He moved himself to the stool next to mine. He was white and stood about five feet nine inches tall. He had dark brown hair and was skinny. His nav... blue Penn State shirt hung loosely on him. He couldn’t have been more than one hundred sixty-five pounds. He smelled good, like fresh soap and expensive shampoo. We shared a few drinks and some shots. He was friendly and good with conversation. His hand found a resting place on my thigh two or three times and I made no effort to remove it. . I know that you are alive to such subtle signals, and this is confirmed as you hitch the hem of your skirt a little higher so that I can now definitely see some skin. Idly, you move your hand up to play with your hair, and you pout a little before taking another delicate sip of your drink.I continue to listen to my new friends until I see you turn towards the bar to order a refill of your empty glass. Thanking the young people for their company, I finish my beer and, excusing myself, walk up to. More

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