Attraction Is Not Mathematical [Marguerite & Adonis]
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Marguerite on 06-01-2010, 04:24:54</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Attraction Is Not Mathematical [Marguerite &amp; Adonis]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>06-01-2010, 04:24:54</strong>
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				Alexis pondered over the numbers printed out on the paper before her as she chewed on her pen. She was not great with numbers which was why she thanked her research partner, Tony, on handling the mathematical side of their project. Nonetheless, she liked to look over the data to make sure the research had enough participants and variables to keep it unbiased and able to be repeated over and over if it was to be tested out by the committee. There could be no mistake in this research for any double number or unusual result in a set of repeating ones it could throw the whole experiment right out the window. Right now, she could not afford to throw a year's worth of research out the window. There was a maximum of five years to the research but if she wanted to get the research published in enough time to get a few investors and grant money she needed to get it done in the next seven months. Even if the research was hypothetical and could have the possibility of becoming a proven theory, it would receive the money needed to fund better exploration on the subject.<br><br>What was the subject Alexis and Tony were anxious to fund? The research was on the discussion of appearance and intelligence competing for which is admired and wanted in males and females. In other words, did men and women choose brains or beauty in a partner? For Tony and Alexis, both felt men <em>and</em> women chose beauty and not brains in potential partners. It was harsh to think of the female and male population as hungry beasts who wanted to screw the hottest piece of ass but the surveys and the questionnaire groups all gave their explanations on their reasons for choosing beauty over brains. The reason which popped up the most was the participants felt men and women did not have brains <em>and</em> beauty rolled up into one package. As a result of their assumptions if it came down to being with a gorgeous or handsome individual who was stupid but was good eye candy or an unattractive individual who could solve mathematical equations and discuss the interpretations of War and Peace, most, if not, all went for the gorgeous person. <br><br>"Such a sad thing to see someone would rather bang Paris Hilton who is the poster child of stupid rather than Hilary Clinton who is an intellectual woman just because Mrs. Clinton looks like a man," Alex, (who went by Alex instead of Alexis), admonished as she moved her attention from the numbers to the written responses of the surveys. The women were shown pictures of handsome men like fashion models and celebrities. Alex went on to ask the female participants if they thought the male model went to college or perhaps even completed their basic high school education. Most of the women believed the handsome men were not intelligent because of their physiques. One female participant even commented the men could get by on their looks alone and if they were stupid to keep it to themselves or be the brooding and quiet types. Alex felt a bit pessimistic about the whole research but it did prove the hypothesis raised. Now the last few steps of the project was to take these results out into the real world and test it out on individuals. In other words, Tony and Alex planned to personify beauty and the beast to further cement their findings.<br><br>However, Alex, knew this meant she had to mingle and rub elbows with men who unknowingly would be test subjects for the theory. For her end, Alex planned to take on the personification of two twins, each different in their personalities and one holding the intelligent side and the other the beauty. This meant Alex had to slut herself up to look like a drop-dead gorgeous female with a pea for a brain as the example of a stupid beautiful female. As for the intelligent side, Alex, would have to ugly herself down to look like a female who could care less about shaving her under arm or conforming to the idea of beauty all the while have the intellect of a professional. Classic stereotypical vision of what a smart female looked and acted versus what a runway model spoke and performed to the public. Alex knew this experiment had to be played close to the vest and had to go all the way in taking on these persona's. This was just not dressing up or down but interacting in public. <br><br>Tony was great enough to pull a few strings and have her hired on as an art assistant in the Haight and Ashbury. She would stay in a small loft apartment that was owned by a friend of Tony's but who would be out of town for the next few months on a 'cosmic search for Nirvana'. All of this worked for the persona and lifestyle of 'Gloria' the ugly but intelligent twin. For Candi, the beautiful but stupid twin, she would live it up in the Financial District who was living off of Daddy's inheritance money and working her way as a party girl who liked to party hard all over. Of course, Alex, needed to keep herself sober in order to get the full effect of interacting with others but she could easily fake being a sloppy and falling down drunk. As a matter of fact, Alex, could start on her Candi persona tonight for she was supposed to check out the night clubs in San Francisco and find one where the men would be in droves tonight. For the experiment, she needed to hook three men for Candi and three men for Gloria; it would be hard to keep the men in track but she had no doubts about juggling the men. <br><br>"Alright, Tony, I need to go and change into 'Candi' and start it off. I have what I need to set myself up," she called over her shoulder as she ran towards her Chevy Tracker. It was a 2001 Tracker but she loved it to death and it never steered her wrong, no pun intended. For the set up, Alex, had a pin-sized camera and a recording device on her to audio and visual record the men she interacted with tonight. If any one of the men bit and were snatched up, all the better to have evidence to back up the research further. The transformation from Alexis Rodriguez into Candi Gonzalez would take some time but 'Candi' could be fashionably late and make a statement. All Alexis wanted was to prove the hypothesis and lock down the grant money needed for Tony and her and everything would be smooth sailing. Besides, here in San Francisco, the men would be hankering for a piece of hot but simple-minded ass. Who could deny that? No one. This is what Alexis thought an hour later as she was picked up by a cabby in the Sunset District and dropped off at a lounge she frequented when she wanted to sit back and enjoy a Guiness. The Gallery Lounge (http://www.thegallerylounge.net/) was a good place to pick up on the singles or even those who were coming off of work. Oh, this was going to be an easy night.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Attraction Is Not Mathematical [Marguerite &amp; Adonis]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Adonis</strong> on <strong>06-01-2010, 06:17:39</strong>
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				Micheal rolled his neck lightly behind his desk. It had been a rough day, with mounds and mounds of paperwork to sift through. Most of it was simply the bullshit that he had to do on a day-to-day basis, and like everything in the military, it all had to be in triple copies. One was for his local office's records, one for the state office, and one to be sent off to the pentagon to be filed and stored in a database off in some obscure region of the US. He had acquired the stiffness in his neck early in his career as a marine, and it had stayed with him ever since, reminding him now and then what was needed when one took the oath to become a soldier.<br><br>Rarely did any within the marine corps earn the decor he had at such an early age, but he had joined just before such a crucial point in history. He joined freshly out of high school, bright eyed and raring to go. He soon found however, that the actual duties he would attend to after all of the rigorous training would soon become stale, and that he hungered for more. He was stationed at a small base, Fort Drum. Drum was located just north of New York's namesake city, by about twenty minutes. He had been there for exactly one year to date when his life, morals, and courage had been turned upside down, and tested beyond the strain he thought he was capable of.<br><br>His platoon had woken him up at five in the morning, and slipped a black bag over his head. He honestly thought he was going to get the shit beat out of his for some unknown slight.&nbsp; His thoughts raced, and his pulse hammered. He was given a hard shove and fell to his knees. As soon as his hands were free, he yanked off the hood, more than a little fearful, and quite pissed at this point. He ripped the hood off of his head, and his jaw dropped. His anger quickly dissipated, and a stupid grin befell his face. He had forgotten the date. Today, was his birthday, and he was turning 19 years old. His entire platoon had assembled in the small hangar, around a giant cake with a horrible drawing of Celine Dion done in icing. His last name, you see, was Celine, and he caught more shit about it than anything else. He laughed jovially as they began to all sing happy birthday in falsetto. Fighting back tears, he was enveloped in bear hugs, slaps on the ass, and claps on the back as all fifty men wished him a happy 19th birthday. It was the single birthday that he would never, could never forget. He was born September 11th, 1982. The date today, was September 11th, 2001.<br><br>They had been finishing off the remnants of the cake, fighting over who did cleanup when the emergency sirens on the base kicked into life. Seven different TV's scattered throughout the hangar were flipped on, chaos on every channel. Their home, their country, was under attack. They watched the replay in horror, as a terrorist driven plane connected with one of America's most prized landmarks. The World Trade Center's Twin Tower's represented everything that they stood for, a unification of the world centered around a free trade policy. Several of the soldiers dropped to their knees, crying as they realized that loved ones, girlfriends, wives, relatives and even a few children directly connected to them had just perished in an instant. Crying turned to screaming, and screaming to rage. The hangar silenced when the local news channel clicked over to a live feed, showing a second plane breaking the horizon, headed straight for tower 2. They watched as the second plane smashed, dead center into the last remaining hopes that they had of a loved one's survival.<br><br>His platoon leader, face red and tears streaming approached. "AteeeenTION!" He screamed through his despair. The platoon assembled, slower than usual, and barely at order. Not a single eye was dry. The platoon leader pulled up a chair, flipping it to sit backwards. These few words, the next few minutes were etched into Micheal's memory for the rest of his life. Jerimiah, or "Jerms" as they had come to know him, rubbed the tears off of his cheek with the shoulder of his sleeve. He gazed quietly into each and every young face before proceeding. <br><br>"Gentlemen, I want you to know that what you just saw, has changed my life forever. I didn't have to come in to work today. My wife told me that we needed the money for groceries this week, so I volunteered to come in for a little overtime to help things out. She worked in one of those towers, and she took my little girl, and my little boy to work with her this morning. I'm at a loss for inspirational words right now. I have no orders to deploy, I have no authority to make you go either. I may lose my job for leaving my post, but I'm going down there. I was a husband, and a father, first and foremost, and a United States Marine, second. I am no longer either of the first. I took an oath, just as you did, to protect everything that I hold dear. That has just been destroyed. But I'll be god dammed if someone else loses a wife, or their children because I wasn't there to pull them from the wreckage. If any of you has a wish to go with me, take a step forward and I'll get the Humvees gassed to go."<br><br>Two rough lines, of twenty five men each, not a day over 21, stepped forward in solemn unison. <br><br>Their platoon leader wiped the tears from his eyes, but they flowed freely anyway. He stared at them proudly. "Oorah, Marines." he said quietly to them. "Oorah."<br><br><strong>"Oohrah!"</strong> they screamed back, making it echo off the hangar walls.<br><br>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br><br>Micheal had a hard time remembering the drive up there, but the scene as they approached the city gripped his heart in terror and despair. Steeling himself for what he was about to see, he hit the ground at a dead run, as did the rest of the men. They quickly broke up into five squads of ten to begin helping with the evacuations on various floors. They were to start on the thirty fifth floor of tower one, and evacuate four floors at a time, one to a platoon. The floors above were either empty or so filled with smoke that to go up any further would risk death from smoke inhalation.<br><br>An hour later, they had managed to get down to the tenth floor, and Micheal's squad was ordered to move to ground level to help the survivors get clear of the tower. As they hit ground level they did as best as ten men in uniform possibly could, moving the men, women, and few children clear of falling, and often flaming debris. A screaming of steel was heard, and they looked up in horror as the top stories began to collapse in on themselves. Chunks of cement the size of tables rained into the streets for the next few minutes as they scrambled clear of the initial falling. <br><br>Micheal remembered a flash of pain and blackness, then being dragged as he shook off the impact. He remembered thinking that there were still forty other men that he had trained, sweated with, bled for, and would die for inside. He was up and running before he realized what was going on. From there, the rest of the day was a blur to him. Reports said that he had managed to lead, walk, carry, and finally drag thirty-six of the forty one men left inside to safety. In the process of doing so, he tore a large portion of the muscles in his shoulders, as well as around the back of his neck, tore a ligament in his left arm, and walked away with scars on his heart and mind that would never heal.<br><br>He spent six weeks in intensive care for burns, smoke inhalation and surgery recovery as they repaired his shoulders, arms and did the best they could on his neck. The doctors let him know that his arm and shoulders would recover fully, but his neck would need regular work with a therapist, and that he might want to seek out a chiropractor.<br><br>As soon as he was able to walk without aid, he was summoned by none other than the big man himself. He was being given several medals, including the Marine Corp. Medal of Honor,Defense Distinguished Service Medal and a Purple Heart for what he had done all those weeks ago. He knew what he had done, and he accepted the medals, even though in his heart he felt he didn't deserve them. He had failed to get five of his brothers out, and it would always weigh heavy on his heart. <br><br>For the next few years, he shuffled back and forth between several bases, frustrated because they refused to let him join the war efforts due to his injured neck. <br><br>Eventually, he settled in Pax River, Maryland at the military base. The place was beautiful, and he soon met the woman he thought that he would spend the rest of his life with, Jessy. She was beautiful, talented, and driven. He had finally become happy, and settled in for the long run. She, however, had other ideas. He had left for an extended trip up to Washington, only a few hours away, to receive his surprise promotion to First Lieutenant. They had told him that he would be gone for only four days, but he was able to get away after only two. Driving home early, phone in hand to call his fiancee, he decided that instead, he would surprise her. Pulling into the base, smile on his face, he slowly drove into the small garage provided to officers, parked and made his way into his home. His wife-to-be, Jessy, was bare assed, straddling their neighbor in the middle of the dining room table, riding him like he was a fucking stallion after a horse race.<br><br>She didn't even know that he was there until he slammed the door on his way out. He headed straight to the housing office, and then to his commanding officer to request immediate transfer to the furthest place he could get to while remaining within the continental US. His CO frowned, but knew him very, very well. He wasn't one to make demands, much less requests, so he was granted this one item, to much disappointment of his friends, as well as his family. He took the stationing that was offered in a small administrative office in the heart of San Francisco. Never once did Jessy try and contact him, and from what his friends had found out, this had been going on for a good few months now. It took him all of a week to get things settled, moved out, and on his way to his new life, and he never looked back.<br><br>He had been here in San Francisco for roughly six months now, having finally settled into a routine. Up for work at 5 in the morning, arrive by quarter to six, and out again by four. He would hit The Gallery Lounge on his way home every night to unwind a bit, head home, watch some television, and then go to bed, intent on starting it all over again.<br><br>He pulled into the lounge, which was busier than it usually was, and ordered a "Crazy Monkey", a mix of various tropical rums, and fruity liquors. Some called it a girly drink, he didn't really give a shit. He sat quietly at the bar, watching the news with his back to the writhing mass of people that constantly mixed and mingled behind him. He was approached by several people, all wanting to share drinks with a higher ranked officer, mostly just kissing ass. He either turned them away, or ignored them altogether.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Attraction Is Not Mathematical [Marguerite &amp; Adonis]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>06-01-2010, 07:05:49</strong>
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				Alex knew this was crucial to the research for to prove the surveys and the results by the groups of men and women would be the best thing for the project. It was not that hard to find participants for the survey but it was difficult to weed out the third group of homosexual males and lesbian females as well as the bisexual individuals. The groups had to consist of heterosexual males and females though both needed to be separate. From there it went down the line of homosexual and bisexual to make sure all sexual orientations were covered. It was not easy considering in San Francisco one's sexuality could vary from one person to the next. Sometimes a lesbian female slept with a male because he was that gorgeous or after a very long night of drinking. How did she know this? With the individuals each were given their one on one questionnaires to make sure there was no faults or defects in a participant influencing the rest of the group. The last thing she needed was one person to tell the rest of the group how to think about the photographs or act around the rest of the people who volunteered for the project. Not only would it compromise the results but throw a whole group out the window and have to go through the process of finding new ones. Oh, how she loved sitting down and talking about the 'sexy men' and 'hot babes' the participants would get to see.<br><br>Now, in the Lounge, she needed to find at least one male tonight. Get one male and have him hit on her or at least show interest in her appearance. Her eyes glanced around the lounge but it seemed people were either too drunk to notice her entrance or she was not engaging herself fully to grab the attention. Nonetheless, it was her first night but she needed to come out of this night with a few men interested in talking to her or at least giving her up and down glances. Oh, she knew about those up and down glances because out of the corner of her eyes there was a gaggle of females eyeballing one particular male situated at the bar. Once she stepped a little closer to their group, the women could not stop talking about the 'hunky sex on a stick' and the 'male who can ride her home'. Aye yes, women at their best adding to her research especially since all of these women looked to have come straight from the Financial District because none of them changed out of their work attire. Even one looked as if she was the Boss for the way she kept her opinions to herself. However, by the way the female kept eyeballing the male one had to think carnal thoughts were running through her head. Even Alex, no, Candi, could admit the man was delicious but she had to find a way to get his attentions on her.<br><br>It was hard not to think like Alex for she had to think like Candi. Candi was the type to go after a man and make sure he noticed her and never forgot her. Now how to get this man but not without the tactics the other women who tried and failed at the bar? She continued to listen in on the women's conversations and caught gold when one promised to fondle the guy's ass and run away before he noticed it was her. How about that? A good opening to grab the male's attention but not make it by throwing herself at him? By helping him, it gave her an in with the man and showed she was not interested in trying to take him to bed. Well, not yet and never could she get involved with any of her subjects. Date them? Yes. Go to bed and have sex with them? Never. That would compromise the research and even strike it down if it was thought to be an excuse to pick up and prostitute herself for the grant money. Never would she see herself turning to prostitution not even when things got bad in her graduate school. Her family had supported her up until realizing she wanted to go into human sexuality as her major. The dishonor it brought upon her father to know his daughter wanted to talk and even speak out in public about sex. When she did not give into their demands, Alex was cut off from the family money. However, it did not matter for her grandfather was good enough to her plight that he left a trust fund to her and could take out money whenever she wanted from it. The only demand was to have Friday lunches with him every week in the City. <br><br>Right now, she needed to make Grandpa proud and put her researching skills to good work. Funny, how she wanted to make her grandfather proud by picking up a man in a lounge but it was all for the cause. Slowly, she made her way through the crowd and with the stiletto heels she had on, it was easy to look over the heads of people. Without the heels, she stood at five foot and five inches and with the heels she was around five feet and nine inches. Still, eyeing the male from the back, he had to top over six feet and he had broad shoulders. Hell, the Candi part of her was liking what she was seeing while Alex was determining if it was genetics which granted this male the body he had or having to go the gym six days a week. Here, in San Francisco, there were certain parts of San Francisco which boasted on its sex appeal. In Castro, the GLBT population had as many visions of strapping and physically appealing males on their posters as the next strip club promoting their well-endowed strippers. This male in front of her could very well be a stripper who danced the poles at the bars in Mission or Castro but the air around him was more towards wanting to be left to his drink. While, she had no problem leaving people to drink their nights away, this was something she had to do and the guy was going to have to get over himself in order to help her out.<br><br>"Just wanted to let you know that in the next three minutes, a brunette wearing a black and white suit is going to try and pinch your ass. She might even smack it and try to get a picture taken before she runs off," she warned the male as she settled herself at the seat next to him. When she made her way over, a bleach-blond had been rebuffed and went off to have her self-esteem pumped by another male at the end of the bar. Crossing her legs at the ankle, she glanced over the male. He was not bad looking at all but now she could see the man was not one who worked in the Financial District. There was no air of money around him in those who wanted to make their quick money and spend it on whores and booze. Nope, this one looked more contained and self-assured. Military? He could be though she leaned in and tapped his shoulder before pointing towards the female who was making her way to his backside. Hopefully, he got the warning and did not think it was a joke before his ass got pinched by a set of acrylic nails. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Attraction Is Not Mathematical [Marguerite &amp; Adonis]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Adonis</strong> on <strong>08-01-2010, 02:10:00</strong>
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				Micheal sipped slowly, watching the football game on. He may be a resident of San Francisco now, but he couldn't stand the 49er's. Every guy had that one team he loathed, and it just so happened that his was situated in his city. He smirked as a tight end got obliterated by one of the Giant's defensive ends, much to the annoyance of those sitting around him. Micheal heard the footsteps before he turned around. <em>Stiletto's, maybe five five..</em> he sniffed the air trying to sort through the cigarette smell, <em> Con De' Juor perfume. Rich little airhead looking for an easy fuck.</em><br><br>He ignored her as she sat down beside him, all smiles. "Hey stud, what's a woman gotta do to get you to buy her a drink?" He turned slightly on his stool to look at her. Five foot without the stiletto's, bleach blond, shirt that a toddler would be challenged to squeeze into...and dear god the skirt. <em>If it was any shorter, I'd be seeing her fucking short and curly's.</em> The woman practically ooze sex appeal. He cocked an eyebrow and looked her up and down once, making it obvious. She smiled lavciously. "So, like what you see? How about we get out of here, I know a great restaurant up by my apartment. Or if you like, we can skip the dinner," she leaned in closely, "and you can make me breakfast in the morning."<br><br>He gave her a sly grin, and leaned in, his lips close to her ear. She leaned in as well to hear him, smile on her face, thinking that she had caught her "free ride" for the night. "I'll tell you what, I'll make you a deal. If you can tell me what rank I am, other than "officer", I'll go home with you. Actually, let me make things easier on you, since you're bound and determined to catch some sort of crotch rot before you turn twenty-five. I'm going to tell you exactly what you just did wrong. First, you interrupted my drink to ask me to fuck some unknown woman. I have morals. Two, that perfume you wear, it's repulsive. Smells like something sprayed out of the hind end of a cat. Third of all, my dick, in inches, is bigger than your IQ."<br><br>He knew he sounded like an asshole, but he didn't care at this point. She was the fourth woman tonight to spend fifteen seconds talking to him, before bluntly offering a quick fuck and a child support case. He was overworked, stressed, his neck was fucking killing him, and all he wanted was to relax for an hour after he got off of work without some bimbo making a pass at him looking for a handout. How hard was it just to talk to someone.<br><br>The blond's eyes seem to get wider and wider as he went along, the response completely unexpected. Her jaw dropped when he basically called her as dumb as a shorted out toaster, and she turned red from the top of her face, all the way down to the considerable, and most likely fake boobs that were practically popping out of her kid's t-shirt. "My perfume smells <em>sophissicated</em> thank you." He bit back a laugh at the mispronunciation. Dumb as a stump, or drunk, he could care less as she got up, huffing and puffing as she sought out her next victim, some poor ensign at the end of the bar.<br><br>He shook his head and went back to his drink, and his game. Not thirty seconds later, yet <em>another</em> woman sat beside him, slightly classier than the last, no fake tits or dye job, from what he could tell. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and then she began to give him a warning. He was baffled at the unexpected turn of events. "Do what?" he asked dumbly. He snapped out of it slightly as she tapped him on the shoulder and pointed. His face screwed up in confusion and he turned around completely to face the woman, who was looking back at her friends giving them a thumbs up and not paying attention to what she was doing. Before he could stop her, her hand connected. Instead of getting an ass, she ended up with a handful of his crotch in her hand. His jaw dropped as he looked down, and then looked up at her. The poor girl was mortified. Her hand flew from his package to her face, and she practically tripped over herself as she ran back to the safety of her friends.<br><br>Face practically purple with embarrassment, he picked up his drink, and downed it, with intents to leave without a word to the woman who had sat down beside him, and unintentionally caused him to be groped by the younger brunette.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Attraction Is Not Mathematical [Marguerite &amp; Adonis]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>08-01-2010, 03:56:36</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Candi pondered over whether or not this male was worth her time. Already, he seemed to look like the type who brushed off any female interaction. Hell, just having seen what he did to the fake blond made her realize showing off her breasts and trying to get him to pay attention to her pretty face was not going to cut it. He just might be someone she needed to cross off her list. While Candi was worried about bagging this male, Alex was figuring him out in other way. He was absolutely not a regular Joe on the street. Whether or not he was homosexual needed to be further investigated. Just the way he brushed off the women showed he was not here for pussy but instead for the drinks and the game on the screen offered at the bar. Alex sneered to see what was going on the flat screen television and was ashamed at the way the 49ers were heading. Her father used to love the 49ers back in the eighties and nineties. Somehow, it all changed once the team started to suck the life out of what was football. Such a shame because a lot of those players could easily be used for the study conducted tonight. Maybe she had to search a few of the clubs were the footballers would frequent this week but for now eye on the male situated next to her. <br><br>Wow, maybe she did overwhelm him by the way it took him a big longer to response to her comment. Did he expect her to come onto him within ten seconds of meeting him? Maybe by the way the other women around her were waiting for her to fail and the next female to take her spot. Women could be vicious and even worse especially in San Francisco. While San Francisco was the mecca for the GLBT community it was a nightmare for straight men and women. It was hard enough to date in other cities but to date in San Francisco, one never knew if the guy next door was batting for the other team or enjoyed himself a pink taco. For Alex, most, if not all, of the time she was hit on by lesbians and rarely by men. Tony, once told her it was because of the aura of bitchiness and possible castration surrounding her. Alex did not blame herself for the way she acted with men or women. Sometimes, she found herself watching the world and hoping she did not let herself be led by her clit or by a man's phony words to try and get into her pants. If it meant being a spinster, she rather be an unmarried single woman than to be three times divorced like her mother.<br><br>Such a shame because if Alex had it her way there would have been a ban on people being able to divorce like it was water. For her mother, Guida, marrying was like eating a box of chocolate. The box was her husband and when she was done with the chocolate or with his money, she went onto the next eligible husband. With her father, he at least had the respect to become a permanent bachelor and make sure none of his women thought they were going to be wife number two. Nonetheless, with her grandfather her only support it was best to keep her attention on this male. A male she had no name to put to for the fact he turned around to look at the female coming their way. Alex could stop herself from laughing but Candi was not going to cap her laughter for anyone. When the male turned around and the other female's hand grab a nice handful of crotch a burst of laughter came from her lips. There was clear embarrassment on the female's face and the rest of her friends were embarrassed for her. Poor female but at least she had the chance to grab at him before being rejected at the bar.<br><br>Candi cleared her throat a few times and wiped at her eyes before saying, "Well, at least you can save this hilarious story for a night out with the boys'." Not the best thing to say but to try and hit on him and ask to feel him up did not seem like the best choice. Besides, his face looked like a grape as he swallowed the last of his drink. Now, Alex and Candi liked alcohol but alcohol was not on her list tonight. However, she could buy him a drink to assuage the embarrassment and maybe have the bartender get him some ice in case the other female had dug her nails in good into his manhood. Motioning to the bartender, she asked for the male's drink to be refilled and for a small rag filled with ice. With the bartender having seen the hilarious scenario, he kept a tight smile and headed off to get the drink and the ice rag. "I warned you but obviously you thought it was some new form of picking you up. I am sorry for that happening but I wanted to get to you before she even had the chance to have her photograph of the event and shown all over Facebook." With the way the internet was working one could have mishaps placed on youtube and naughty pictures placed on porn sites. For her, she planned to at least figure this one out before heading back to her loft.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Attraction Is Not Mathematical [Marguerite &amp; Adonis]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Adonis</strong> on <strong>25-10-2010, 04:51:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Looking at this new woman, he could clearly tell that something was off about the woman. She dressed..risque enough to catch attention, but not quite enough to put her over the line into slutty/easy territory. <em>Must be some high end businesswoman out on the prowl</em> he thought to himself. Rubbing his neck, he angled himself away from the woman, hiding the fact that he was slightly aroused by the touch. He was a man after all, and it had been a long, <em>long</em> time since he'd allowed anyone to come near him there. Looking back over his shoulder at the group of women, the one that had grabbed him hid her face behind a friend for a moment before they got up and prepared to leave.<br><br>Taking a small bottle of pain medication from his pocket, he declined the extra drink, as he didn't want to mix alcohol with the pain meds that were strong enough to knock out an ox as it was. "Just water, if you please." he said to the bartender before he could completely turn away to mix another drink. He shook a single white pill out into his palm and closed his fist while he waited on the glass of water.<br><br>The bartender handed him a short glass filled with icewater, and he nodded Michael. Michael rubbed the side of his neck for a moment before popping the pain medication and downing the entire glass of water. He turned to Candi and gave her a weak grin.<br><br>"While it was wonderful meeting you and being grabbed by one of the babysitters club girls, if you'll excuse me, I do need to be going now." He stood a bit woozily as the pain from his neck made him a bit unsteady. He could already feel the little pill working it's way into his body, numbing him up. He was under doctor's orders not to drive or operate heavy machinery while he had the stuff in his system, but who gave a shit. He could drive home blindfolded with his legs tied to his armpits he knew the route so well.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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