Chris was sitting on my lap across from our friend Betty at a deuce in a dark corner of an already dark Tobacco Road. Chris and Betty were speaking in Portuguese about their upcoming trip to Carnival, Brazil. Chick trip. I was drifting.A curiously interesting blond kept walking by and looking over. Chris goes to pee and I leave Betty to herself.
“So you were looking over a lot…” It was my turf this blond was stalking.
“Well, OK.. yeah.” Maybe she wanted an explanation of the Brazilian babe sitting on my lap?
“Ex girlfriend. What are you doing here?” Like I had any right to know.
So I start to get the Cirque de Sole story. She’s meeting some friends from the circus. Turns out we have a lot in common. More then we’d ever have imagined. Too much in fact for casual sex. Another, ‘Nice to meet ya,’ easily decided in no more then 15 minutes.
A pretty good jazz band is on the patio; an unquestionably eclectic audience hangs. Jean, the night chef, starts dancing with this rather attractive person in your standard girl jeans and black long sleeved ribbed shirt reaching all the way to the waist of the jeans. He leaves.
I figured she was a friend of his so I walked over and asked, “So you ever dance with white gringo boys?”
I was just kidding.
Fortunately, she was not only fun but nice. She spun me around like a washer on spin cycle gone nutz. I was seriously out of my league.
“Let me get you a drink,” I sure needed one.
We walked over to the patio bar, she looked at Jack, “Water.”
That made sense. Jack scooped a plastic cup with ice and shot it full of water. She sucked it down. I reached back over behind the bar, grabbed the gun and shot her glass with more water.
“I’m just gonna be in your way, dance, I’ll watch,” she smiled, put down the water and moved to the space in front of the stage.
As good as the band was, there was absolutely no #####’ way in the world that those musicians could keep up with Jamie’s dancing. I knew that, she knew that, and every guy on the patio was in drool mode.
There was nothing ‘erotic’ about her dancing in terms of suggestive moves. Jamie just danced. She’s a unique combination of a little classic, contemporary, ballet and a whole hell-of-lot of jazz. She had fun. Not her fault she’s naturally hotter then molten lava.
The guys around the patio, and there were a lot of them, looked over at me and gave that sort of WTG grin. Jamie played it up with smiles and eyes.
She came over when the band stopped. I told her, “I have no idea who you are but that was amazing, and I’m leaving.”
She said she was from Miami.
A Kittyloaf®Original
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