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Friday, March 1, 2013

A Drink, a woman and some evening

She walked by that table, she was fine and smooth. She would have rolled down anybody's throat with ease! She was a master at it.


There was a scotch on the table. It was stunning, beautiful and pretty. It planned its move, leaving the best, numb! It was class.

The background was set. A meeting between the two would have been the perfect meeting.

How would that happen?
Simple.
Bring a table with a scotch and a woman around and its done. but there was a criterion. The scotch had to be Black Dog scotch. A 21-year-old blend. The woman had to be dressed in golden, smell woody and taste perfect. And then we could possibly think of making them meet at the Easy Evenings of the club.

She wished her meetings with the usual went on all night, but they all left her high and dry very soon. She knew she was made for it and nothing else would satisfy her.  A little bit of this and that. a touch here, a touch there. A sensation that she had experienced only once. It relaxed her like never before.

The Scotch preferred to be a listener. Someone who would just listen to what others said and then soothe them. Unfortunately it hadn’t met someone like that yet.

The evening had arrived. She was all dressed. As she was asked to. A golden shimmer over her body, enough to make her move. The scotch was placed on the table. It was the original 21-year-old Black Dog. The perfect setting. What was missing was the fire. The fire that kept each of them going. They were sure they would go on all night but weren’t sure if they could stay away. It was tough to control after all.


The moment had arrived. She held it in her hands, skipped a breath, and brought it closer, she couldn’t wait any longer. A sip was taken… A few moments later she felt like how she imagined. Relaxed! She had lived her life in style.  What else did she want out of life?

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