At the bar

She sat at the bar like the evening had already decided against her. The little brunette, all smooth skin and quiet heat, let her drink sweat into a ring on the napkin. No one was coming. She knew it. So when the blonde appeared, tall and easy, and leaned against the same stretch of wood without asking permission, something shifted. The blonde didn’t waste time with stories. Her hand found the brunette’s thigh under the bar top, slow, confident. The brunette’s breath caught. She didn’t move it. The blonde took that as yes and slid higher. No panties. Bare. Warm. Already wet. She smiled against the brunette’s neck and rubbed slow circles until the girl’s knees spread wider on the stool. They left together without finishing their drinks. In the back room the blonde pushed the brunette against the wall, kissed her hard, tasted her. She dropped to her knees, lifted the short skirt, and licked her open. The brunette came fast, clutching blonde hair, thighs trembling. Then she wanted to return the favor. She pulled the blonde up, undid her jeans, slipped two fingers inside her and fucked her standing while the blonde gripped the doorframe and came around her hand, biting her lip to stay quiet. Two girls, one bar, no one missed.