What A Bitch - Sex Stories

What A Bitch

... you ever talked to her?”

“Obviously I have, but she just doesn’t like me. I don’t know why. Anyway, enough of her,” and off they went, chatting excitedly.

I washed my hands and went back to the table intending to leave but there was a fresh bottle of fizz on the table and I remembered that I had ordered it. I didn’t bother finding a glass, I just took a big swig and watched the action on the dancefloor, where Suzie was again centre stage.

Suzie

It was hot. I made my way to my table and grabbed the nearest drink and, having finished that one, I looked for another, but finding just empties, I wandered up to the bar to see what I could find. Given the prices, I had no intention of buying one, not on my poxy salary.

“There’s some here.” It was Angela. She was standing at the end of the bar, a bottle in her outstretched hand.

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing the nearest empty glass. Her first attempt to pour missed. So, I took the bottle and filled my glass.

“Can I top up yours?” She nodded, but she just took the bottle from me and took a mouthful.

“Glasses are over-rated,” I said. Again, she nodded but, as she turned, she wobbled and I quickly helped her steady herself.

“You OK?”

“To be honest, no.” She took a deep breath and carefully put the bottle on the bar. “I better go.”

I watched as she walked over to her table and put on her jacket. She had a little trouble with a sleeve so I helped her put it on and then, after finding her handbag on the floor, ...

... she set off.

“Angela, let me help you,” and I quickly went back to my table, grabbed my jacket and purse and managed to reach her before she tackled the stairs. As we went down to the reception, she seemed to regain her composure and she walked unaided to the door.

“I’ll be fine, thank you. I’m not normally like this. I just haven’t eaten today.”

“No worries,” I said.

“You go back in. Your friends will be wondering where you’ve got to.”

“No, that’s alright, I’ve had enough,” I replied, “think I’ll head off now.”

As we went outside, she hailed the only taxi waiting.

“Where do you live?” I told her.

“Jump in; my place is on the way, I can use my card so you don’t have to pay.” And in we got.

I knew where she lived. When I say lived, I mean where she was staying. It was one of the company’s apartments and I had been there before, to drop off some work for her. All I knew it was part of her deal when she joined until she found a place of her own.

We tried some small talk on the short journey there and I was wondering how much the taxi would cost and how her offer to pay on the company credit card would work. Was she going to give me the card? I didn’t know.

When we pulled up outside, she hesitated.

“Suzie, I heard you and the girls in the ladies.” Oh, fucking hell. “Come in, have a drink, we need to talk. Please.”

Angela

I’m not very good at this. Saying sorry is, well, it is not in my vocabulary. But I knew I had been hard on her and it ...