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Darts -- Part one
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Darts -- Part one It's been while but here we go again....and yes still fiction. Darts -- Part one They were the only two on the dance floor. Everyone else was drinking, visiting, flirting, shooting pool or watching. They rocked side to side making a small circle on the dance floor sticky from too many spilled beers from weeks gone by. Occasionally they even stepped with the beat of the old slow song from his high school days. Make out music it would have been called. They weren’t, making out that is, though their embrace was tight. Her arms were around his neck and his encircling her waist. They were both very conscious of all the places on their bodies that were in contact with the other. They were also thinking of those portions of their bodies that weren’t in contact but wondered independently what that contact would be like. While they weren’t kissing their mouths were close to the others ear so as to allow their soft voices to be heard over the blaring jukebox. “No way,” she giggled. “I won every game of darts I’ve played tonight.” She was grinning at the thought of how she had cleaned house at the dart game on the randy guys who have been struggling so hard to impress her tonight. “Oh I saw some of your shots and they were quite good. But I’ve had some special practice myself. It takes a great deal of skill to allow my eight and ten year olds to beat me without them knowing I’m throwing the game.” He was coolly confident, not bragging. I’ve played round after round after round with them, just barely losing to give them another chance to pull out a victory. They seem to enjoy it so much more when they just barely beat Dad. It can’t be any more difficult to hit the right score once than the number next to the right score time and again.” “You are so full of bullshit.” The burst of air and moisture as she uttered the B in bullshit tickled his ear. “Well I can tell you’re not all talk.” His fingers splayed a bit more as he pressed her toward him for emphasis. “But those are fightin’ words when you challenge my darting authority.” “You looking for a fight, Prof?” “No, Katie. A bet.” She could see this coming from a mile away. What was the bet he wanted? A flash of titty? A peek of pantie? “What are you betting, Pro-fess-or?” With out a pause he said, “Head.” “What?” She had clearly heard what he said so close to her ear, but couldn’t believe what he had said. He was the shy one, the conservative one. He was the one they debated amongst the women of the group. Was he dynamite or a dud? “The bet is head. You win at darts I eat your pussy. I win at darts, you suck my cock.” They had flirted intensely on line, sometimes for hours and the implications there were always clear. But they were implications, innuendo, and double entendre. Rarely if ever had she heard him be coarse, vulgar or explicit. He certainly seemed to have gotten past that for this moment. “Of course if you’re not up for an interesting bet, Katie, we could just make it for a drink.” Win, lose or draw she knew to what she would be agreeing. But win, lose or draw she was sure he would back out. She pulled back to stare intently into Prof’s eyes. “Done. Let’s play.” She pivoted away from him, her skirt swirling about her legs, and strode to the dart game. “Can Prof and I cut in the next game, we’ve got a bet to settle.” His heart skipped a beat. Was she going to announce the nature of their bet? He wouldn’t put it past her, but his new boldness was designed for her, not the crowd. “What cha, bettin,” somebody leered. “A drink. He wouldn’t buy me one so I’m winning one.” “Ah hell, I woulda bought cha one.” “Nah, it’ll taste better when I win it off old Prof here. Won’t it Professor?” He smiled a sly grin knowing their secret was safe for the moment, “Oh, I think one of us is going to enjoy the drink…Katie dear.” Prof took the first turn. He had seldom shot darts in a bar and certainly never with an audience this size. But he had played hundreds of games with his in their own basement and took pride in precisely losing game after game to them. He knew he did it best when he didn’t think about the shots. The three darts thudded into the board one after another in close succession. The computer game counted down a bullseye, a one, and a twenty in a grouping so tight they didn’t span the size of a 50 cent piece. The crowd crowed it approval. Katie stepped to the line and with a measured flick sent the three darts on their way. She smirked as she moved forward to pull her shots from the board having scored only two less than Prof. “I am looking forward to your service, Prof,” she crooned as she passed close by him. Prof stepped to the line. He was completely content with the proposed result of either winning or losing. But for all his calm, he was secretly very competitive. He wanted to win. His first turn was showy, but risky. Going for the bullseye meant risking catching too many low scores and she did know what she was doing with a dart. Prof smiled to himself as he thought, “I suspect she knows what she is doing with lots of things.” He went for the safe twenty wedge and scored: twenty, triple twenty, and twenty again. Whoops flew out from those watching the game. “Ya better have your money ready, sweetie. He’s looks like a bald shark to me.” Katie stepped to the line but her thoughts were not on the throws she needed to make. She pondered, “what made me agree to this damn bet?” She made three careful throws…and was now behind by 26. Prof crossed close to Katie as he moved to the line. He leaned in as he passed and whispered, “They would be rooting a lot louder if they new the actual bet, wouldn’t they?” Three more of Prof’s darts whizzed toward the board for another brutal total. Each round widened the distance between their scores. Each round made it harder for Prof to think about the throws rather than the prize. Each round made it harder. After two more exchanges of throws and verbal taunts Prof’s score had counted down from 301 to 51. Katie was sitting at 106. Katie tried to shake him as he stepped to the line. “This is where the luck changes Prof.” Prof smiled… And threw… Triple seventeen… Katie’s mouth hung loosely open. The few still focusing on the game cheered or booed, divided along gender lines. Prof handed his two remaining darts to the woman next in line for the game. “Prof…what…I don’t get to play the winner.” “Sorry sweetie. Katie and I are going to dance while I consider my drink order.” Prof took the darts from Katie’s hand and passed them to another player. Her mouth was still gaping slightly at the single dart it took to finish the round. He took the same hand and led her back to the dance floor. He crossed to the far side of the dance floor even though no one else was dancing. Though the music was an upbeat old rock-and-roll tune, Prof pulled Katie back to him slow dance fashion and started to circle again. He leaned in toward her ear to whisper, “Nice game.” |
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