I Need an F|
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Copyright ©2013 Zenobia Renquist
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Liria didn't know why Fran overcomplicated such a simple drinking game. The rules were easy -- one alcoholic drink starting with each letter of the alphabet. The first one to get all the letters would win bragging rights and the privilege of choosing the next drinking game. Of course, no one was expected to drink twenty-six in one night. Liria and her friends had decided to relegate the game to weekends only.
Fran, the winner of the last drinking game, had imposed the rule about the drinks being cocktails named after body parts or sex acts. The woman sat at the end of the high-top, rectangular table with her bright pink T-shirt dress glowing under the black lights of the club and her tiara -- the visible symbol of her victory in the last game -- glittering with every bop of her head to the loud music.
"You're up next, Liria. What letter do you want tonight?"
She looked down at the tally sheets prepared for the occasion. Each woman had one, and they had to write down the drink they ordered next to each corresponding letter.
She said, "I need an F. I'm thinking of a Fuzzy Navel."
"That's what you have."
"That's why it's boring. It's been done. Are you even really playing this to win? You're the only one at the table with only five drinks after two weekends. Stop being such a prude," Fran said.
"I'm not being a prude. I just don't want to ask for some of these drinks while having to shout over music in a crowded club surrounded by drunk guys who might take my order as an invitation."
"So what if they did? You need to get laid. I haven't seen you with a guy since you dumped Beau."
"I'm enjoying my freedom."
"You would enjoy it more with a few drinks in you, especially if those drinks have the word fuck in them." Fran toasted with her Fuzzy Navel and took a long swig. "In fact, because you're taking so long, you have to order a drink that starts with the word fuck."
Liria groaned. Her groan worsened when the other four girls at the table started chanting for her to do it. They got so loud the music didn't cover the sound. People from other tables looked their way with interested expressions. There was nothing to see. At least nothing that would interest them. Just Liria giving in to peer pressure. And she thought she'd left that behind in high school.
She raised her arms for quiet. Her friends stopped chanting and waited. She said after a sigh, "Fine. Fine. Tell me what to order. I'm at your mercy."
Fran pulled out her phone and tapped it a few times before she said, "Fuck Me Hard. It's got vodka and different fruit juices. You should like it."
"We won't find out until you order it." Fran pointed at the bar. "Go forth, brave soul, and don't return without your drink."
Liria got off her stool and made her way to the bar. It took a bit of maneuvering and dodging elbows to get there. It would have been so much easier to flag down a waitress, but part of the game was ordering the drink from the bar.
She waved down a bartender and waited for him to finish his current order. While she waited, she looked him over. The man filled out his dress slacks well. Strong leg muscles and, when he bent over to retrieve a bottle from under the counter, she noted he had a firm, round ass. The kind of ass Liria wanted to squeeze.
Her fingers twitched as she moved her gaze up. The rest of the package was just as tempting. All the bartenders wore tight, cotton, button-up shirts with the club logo printed on the small, left breast pocket. The bartender she waited for had the biggest arms. Definitely a man who knew all the machines in the gym.
He looked like the kind of guy who could flex and let Liria do chin-ups on his biceps. And even though she couldn't do a chin-up to save her life, she wouldn't mind giving it that old college try just to touch the man.