We met at a bar, had a few drinks—maybe more than a few. Her place was closer. Seconds after we fell through the door, our clothes were off. We started on the couch, moved to her bedroom.
After, we held each other.
“How would you feel about Round Two?” she asked.
I told her I liked that idea.
“Just let me slip into something more comfortable.” She turned her naked back to me, moved her hair to reveal a shiny silver zipper running from her shoulders to the small of her back.
“Here, just help me with this zipper.”
Author’s Note: Every writer has to try a story about picking someone up at a bar This is mine.