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At first site I could feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach. One reason was the feeling of "who's this stranger, we've never seen him before". The other was the possiblilty of being seen by someone from the neighborhood. I looked around and it seemed as though nobody really cared who I was or where I was from. I soon realized that everyone was there to just have a good time and be themselves. There were people at the bar, dancing, playing pool doing just about everything straight people would do while in a bar. The only exception was that there were men with men and girls with girls doing these activities. I found a place to sit and just took in the atmoshpere. I started to relax and really began enjoying myself. Being it was my first time, I wasn't really there to try and 'hit' or pick up anyone but to see and be seen.I walked up to the bar and ordered a Corona and shot of tequila then proceeded back to my chair. I was enjoying the sites and listening to the music that. She promised to repay me, but never did. I tried to make her make good on her promise, but every time we got down to doing anything, either she or I would get drunk and pass out. I think we both just gave up on things.I moved because of a job change and Amy moved on to secure a boyfriend and over time we lost contact with each other. I hated that, because Amy was fun to be around, and she was also too-freaking cute, with her bodacious curvy body and perfectly round ass that everyone loved to tease her about. Amy knew she was cute and she loved to flirt and tease.So, when I saw a message asking if I remembered her, ten years later, I sat and stared at the computer screen for a good ten minutes. I always had a crush on Amy, but never really had the guts to tell her since she always seemed to have a bevy of guys around.I answered her “How are you?” question with a little bit of intrepidness. She asked if I remembered her.“Of course,” I replied, reminding her that she still owed me.
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She took the juice from the fridge, poured two glasses, and told me to take a seat. I sat down on the couch whereas she sat down on an armchair opposite me, cross-legged. She flicked her hair casually, once again making me feel horny, but also for the first time thinking about her husband and what he would think of me being there chatting with his wife. “What do you do in your spare time, Lee?” she asked. She put emphasis on my name, as though probing into my private life. I felt like she was assuming that a Lee was different than a Joe or a Doug. She specifically wanted to know what a Lee does. She could have just asked what I do, but because of calling out my name, I felt like I had to give an interesting answer. “Not much,” I said, pathetically. So much for being interesting. “No girlfriend?” she continued. “No, Mrs. Cartwright,” I answered. She practically rolled off the couch laughing. I tried to understand why she found that so funny, but I had to wait for what seemed like.

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