Both Sides Of The Coin

"Oh hey Jess. I guess you really took my suggestion literally."

"Yes I did," said Jess, "But I still think we have a shot at winning."

Mike turned back to me.

"Maybe you do."

************************

The party swirled on with usual debauchery. Dancing, drinking, bullshitting, joking, the usual stuff you get at one of these deals. I began to notice the reactions of the guys in the room to my costume. Most thought it was hilarious, and generally didn't make a second comment except maybe a joke or two about me acting girly. A bunch gave me a dirty look and let me know that they wouldn't be caught dead in a get-up like that. And the last few looked at me in the different sort of way in which Mike stared at me when we arrived.

Then there was Mike himself. I know I wasn't being paranoid, but I increasingly saw him staring at me over the course of the night. Once or twice, as he brushed passed me in the hallway, I felt his hand linger on my hip, or the inside of my elbow. It was always just enough to make me notice, but never enough for me to react, if that makes any sense.

And, strangely, I noticed Mike back. He was taller than me, by 3-4 inches. Not surprisingly he also was slightly more defined than me. He was supposed to be "James Bond," but he was basically just dressed in a decent suit. I thought to myself that he looked well put together generally, and that I should try and figure out how to look like that when I had to wear suits.

Then things got interesting.

I was behind the bar, fixing myself a drink. Mike saddled up next to me, and as was quickly becoming pattern, came maybe slightly closer than I thought he should have. Because I was pretty far into my cups at this point, I fumbled some ice onto the floor. While momentarily bent over to retrieve the errant cubes, I felt a quick smack on my panty-covered ass.

I snapped back up as quick as I could, and looked around the room, mortified.