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I jumped up onto thestool, over energized by nervous energy and alcohol. I pounded my drinkand then grabbed his hand and lead him to the dance floor. I had neverbeen a dancer but I thought that it might help me burn off these weirdfeelings.We danced for a couple of song and then, to my horror, a slow tunebegan. Neil put his arms loosely around me and pulled me into hisembrace. I could smell his musk and feel his tight muscles in his bigarms. I felt light headed and the warmth in my groin spread up to mybreasts. I could feel my nipples grow hard. I felt like I was going toloose my mind, I had never felt like this before.We danced and drank until the bar closed and then we got a cab back tomy apartment. As last time he walked me to the door, but this time as Iturned to say goodnight he bent forward and kissed me.My brain exploded.My vision swam.My lungs burned.It felt like I had the most insistent erection of my life in my jeans. Iwas worried my breasts would burn him as I pressed. .. we were buying our own drinks ... no expectations. None of us were sponging drinks. Teenagers drinking legal ... we had driven up 14 in the Dodge. BEFORE the storm. Stuck up here until the Troopers opened the road. Shit happens.Anyway, after the second pickle and the fourth beer, a male voice said, “Barkeep! Gimmie a shot of pickle juice. Stir the jar first.”Don’t you just know ... we all had to try it ... twice. An ounce of juice, chased with a draft.You should keep count ... because none of us were.Six? Really? Six beers? No ... wait ... seven. Yeah ... seven ... or was it eight?“Anna? How many trips to the pisser?”“Two.”Eight beers ... each.Sure it’s 3.2 but ... eight, and the stool is feeling comfy.“Gimmie your keys,” said the bartender.I didn’t even think about it ... I passed ‘em over. He hung ‘em on a board behind the bar.He got on the phone to the desk. “Yeah ... four of them ... college girls, looks like.” He hung up.“You’re bunking here tonight,” he said.Unnerstan ... we.
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