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    Computers, Conferences and Kisses

    Tara walked the bar rapidly, her heart racing a little more than she had realised. She smiled at the young men she recognised from outside the hotel earlier. “What can I get you?” she asked as she reached them. They had evidently had a lot to drink and had reached the stage of being drunk where they were invincible and, more annoyingly, irresistible, at least in their minds. The least drunk guy placed their order and as she turned, one of them called out; “I’d like an order of that *****, baby!!” he howled as his friends erupted into laughter.

    Tara fixed their drinks and rolled her eyes, noticing that Vince had glared down the bar at the guys and was making an effort to keep an eye on them. She placed three bottles of beer in front of them and smiled weakly, she knew her job meant that she would often be leered at by drunken men but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “This ***** is far too much for you to handle!” she whispered to the guy who had made the earlier comment and blushed deeply as his friends took about jibing and teasing him.

    “Better bus some tables.” Vince called down to her as he expertly jugged orders and bottles, drawing whoops and cheers from the women seated at the bar. “On it.” She called, grabbing a tray and lifting the hatch in one movement. The crowd were wild, everyone dancing, singing and generally having a great time. As Tara moved through the mass of bodies, collecting glasses and bottles, she found herself scanning the crowd for the red-head, unable to find her she focused on the task at hand.
    When she was unable to carry any more and after receiving various proposals, of marriage, the best sex of her life and one rather odd offer to wrap her in Saran wrap and peanut butter, she headed back to the bar. Filling the glass washer promptly, she heard a females voice call her from the very far end of the bar. “Right with you.” She said, looking up she saw the red-head nod and smile.

    Tara threw the remaining glasses into the machine and slammed the door. As she make her way to the end of the bar she was wolf whistled and heard many lewd comments as she passed her new group of admirers. “What can I do you for?” she asked, her cheeks flushing as the words left her mouth. The red-head locked eyes with her, smiled and raised a carefully sculpted eyebrow. “Well,” she purred, “I always fancied ‘Sex on the Beach’, could you do that?”Tara stood back, her mouth agape much to the delight of the woman sat in front of her. “You? I? Sorry?” she babbled. The red-head laughed a laugh that was a little on the dirty side. “The cocktail!” she said and Tara felt her face turn beet red. “Oh, yeah of course!” she said, trying to laugh off the images of the sun beating down over the firm body of the woman in front of her as the sea lapped against their naked, entwined bodies. “Your wish is my command.” She added instantly kicking herself mentally as she turned to the spirits behind her. ‘***** sake Tar,’ she scolded herself, ‘You’re flirting like a *****!’ the reasonable and sexual part of her brain reminded her; ‘She started it, she didn’t have to ask for that’

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