Transit, 33

Lori stormed away from the reception, the frustration boiling inside her. She needed a break from the madness. The soft glow of the bar caught her eye, and she made a beeline for it, hoping for some momentary escape.

Sliding onto a barstool, Lori let out a frustrated sigh and tossed the cheap red clutch onto the counter. She barely fit on the stool with her new curves, but she didn’t care anymore. The bartender, a handsome man in his thirties with dark hair and piercing eyes, approached with a practiced smile.

“Long day?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth with a hint of that same Russian accent she’d been hearing all night.

"You could say that," Lori muttered, brushing her platinum blonde hair away from her face. "I mean, I’m not even supposed to look like this. None of this is real." She gestured down at her body, her voice dripping with disbelief.

The bartender’s eyes trailed over her, lingering just a second too long on her cleavage before he met her gaze again. Lori felt a flicker of something unexpected shoot through her—was that excitement? His gaze wasn’t subtle, and for some reason, it sent a thrill through her.

He leaned in closer, his presence commanding. “Tell me about it,” he said with a smirk, clearly interested in more than just her words.

Lori glanced down at her massive breasts, spilling out of her tight top, noticing how his eyes flicked down with them. The attention wasn’t lost on her, and instead of pulling back, she felt a strange urge to push it further. It was reckless, but everything about this night was already beyond sanity. What harm could a little flirtation do?

“I’m not even supposed to be here,” she said, leaning forward deliberately, making sure her cleavage became the main attraction. “This isn’t me. I didn’t used to look like this. Now, I’ve got this body, these…” She glanced down at her chest, making a show of it, biting her lip as she caught the way his eyes drank her in. She felt a pulse of heat low in her belly.

“Doesn’t seem like such a bad thing,” the bartender replied, his gaze slowly rising to meet hers, a sly grin curling on his lips.

Lori’s pulse quickened. He wasn’t trying to hide it anymore, and neither was she. The power in his gaze, the way he looked at her like she was something to be devoured, made her feel a rush of something raw, something she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time. And she liked it.

He slid a glass towards her, a cocktail she hadn’t asked for but suddenly needed. “Here, this will help.”

She took the drink, fingers brushing his briefly. The contact was electric. She lifted the glass to her lips, the cool liquid sliding down her throat as her eyes remained locked on his. “Thanks,” she said, her voice softer now, more loaded. She took another sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol mix with the strange excitement building inside her.

The bartender leaned against the bar, his gaze unwavering. “Sounds like you’ve had a hell of a day,” he said, but his tone told her he was thinking about more than just conversation.

“You have no idea,” she said, resting her hand casually on her chest, pushing her breasts up just enough to make them even more prominent. She caught the way his eyes flicked down again, and a smirk tugged at her lips. “Maybe you could help take my mind off things?”

His grin widened. “I think I can manage that.”

The heat between them was palpable now, and Lori’s inhibitions began to slip away, dissolved by the alcohol and his attention. She could feel herself leaning into it, wanting more of it, even as the chaos of the night still buzzed in the back of her mind.

She stood up suddenly, the movement causing her breasts to shift even more in the tight top. She watched his eyes track the movement, lingering on her cleavage again. Lori bit her lip and let the moment hang between them before giving him a sultry smile.

“I should freshen up,” she said, her voice dripping with suggestion. She leaned forward just enough to give him an even better view of her chest, knowing full well what she was doing. His eyes darkened with hunger as they roved over her skin, and that thrill shot through her again, hotter this time.

“I’ll be right back,” she added, her voice a purr. “Don’t go anywhere.”

With a final glance over her shoulder and a slow, deliberate sway of her hips, she sauntered off toward the bathroom, feeling his eyes burn into her the entire way.