She sparkled like a diamond in a coal bin and scared the shit out of the men she approached.If anything, she was too beautiful and too self-assured.What a curious blend of emotions for a virtual stranger. Most of the men in the tavern looked like drop-outs from Blubber Buddies or some such weight watching group. She took a small sip and savored it like a gourmet, "Perfect! Darlene hopped down from her seat, and like Alexander the great, set out to conquer the known world. She was the Alpha-Fox loose in the hen house, radiating sexual availability like a neon sign in the night." tilted her head back and wolfed it down in one long gulp. Darlene was in a class by herself and that was a problem.We needed a new place to live, and we needed it fast.We crisscrossed Denver and the surrounding suburbs chasing every "For Rent" sign we could find.The bar and a back wall of brick formed a naturally cozy little alcove large enough to accommodate three bar stools.
I grimaced; envy flavored a bit oddly by jealously. She had the uncanny ability to read people like a book and play them like a deck of cards."Complements of the house," Our curious barkeep did a visual inventory of his own as he set a beautifully mixed and handcrafted White Russian in front of Darlene.They have killed intruders in the past and are willing to kill again to keep their home a secret.No living man is allowed to know the location of the Colony.Heads turned as Darlene strutted into the tavern in a blur of legs, cleavage, and the predatory smile of a fox. Her mini-dress must have been a belt in a previous life and her tissue thin blouse was unbuttoned down to her navel.She wore no bra."That's a nice outfit you are almost wearing," I did a double take when she hopped up on the barstool next to mine."Panties optional dress code? Darlene's field of viable targets was limited unless she lowered her standards or went in for a threesome.I fulfilled the role of December at the tender age of 67.Through the process of elimination, we had become drinking buddies at our local tavern. More often than not, we were the last people still standing when the barkeep bellowed out, "Last call for alcohol! The tavern, built in the 1890s, featured a Walnut and Mahogany bar with an odd little 'L' shaped hook at the far corner of the saloon.The men she flirted with as she worked her way around the tavern were flattered, flustered, and fearful of her attention. After ten or fifteen minutes of flagrantly flirting Darlene returned to her seat to regroup and re-fuel. We became romantically involved as much out of laziness as out of lust.Our bartender presented her with another complimentary White Russian as his sacrifice to the Gods of Wishful Thinking."Thank you so much. Can I have another one to keep this one company," Darlene touched his hand and if her smile had been any warmer, the barkeep would have erupted into flame. As Darlene studied me, her dark look of frustration gradually brightened and her eyes sparkled as her grim expression transformed into the predatory smile of a fox."I'm as horney as hell. " she leaned into me until our noses touched while her hand moved to my knee and slowly slid along the inside of my leg. Neither of us cared to invest the necessary time to search for the perfect partner so we settled for close enough for right now.I usually have to beat men off with a stick," shaking her head in disgust, she demolished another White Russian."Maybe you should offer to beat them off with a stick, you know, fifty shades of kinky? She collected orgasms like some folks collected postage stamps.After a few months together, the real-estate development company in which Darlene had invested fifteen years of her life went belly-up, and then her last two paychecks bounced.