rock me now, c

A midnight blue two piece suit. It was, in fact, what he wore, but what he wore wasn't as important as how he wore it. Was it clean? Well-Pressed? Appropriately tailored for maximum physical symmetry? Yes, yes, and of course. Always.

Homer usually wouldn't be caught dead in dive-bar like the one he was currently in. Or dead at all really, since he had a death rate of approximately zero percent. But that wasn't the statistic that mattered right now. His success rate with the 'fairer sex' in these kind of establishments was a solid 50 percent. Half of the time he'd walk away with an attractive enough female companion on his arm and word, and hopefully, tonight would be the same.

He quickly wiped the seat he took before sitting down at the actual bar. He sat two chairs away from a pink-haired woman who looked slender and feminine enough from the back, and even more so from the side. Before he could finish checking her out sufficiently, however, the bartender spoke to him. He and Homer were familiar.

"You want the usual right? With the napkin?"

"Yeah, that's right... bring two over this time though. One for the lady here, she looks bored." Homer turned his head to said woman. The slender, feminine one.

"You're not bored are you? It'd be a shame if you were."

Her smile was a good sign, and the tilting of her head was a subsequent comfort to him. It was time to put the power of the golden ratio he hoped he had achieve to the test again. "Well, now that you mention it, there's plenty entertainment to be had back at my place. Unless West Nova is too long a walk for you that is."

The bartender returned with their drinks, putting Homers on top of three thick napkins. Condensation on the countertop was just plain annoying. "Oh, right..." Homer muttered to himself as he suddenly remembered a crucial part of this common exchange. "My name is Valentine. Homer Valentine."

He would have asked for her name, but she was likely going to give it to him without his prompting. Not that he needed to know it anyway. He wanted to sleep with the girl, not fill a form with her signature.

"But as I was saying, about my proposition, what do you say? 'Yes', or 'hell yes'?"

He was a straight-shooter, no?

There was a momentary pause between her comment and his response. He watched her take her drink, almost entranced by the sight of her wet lips meeting the cold glass that he paid for. ”You didn’t seem the type to need reassurance from a stranger. Besides…” He took a quick sip of his own drink. ”...I thought it was implied when I invited you to the best night of your life at my house.”

Another momentary pause.

”Just kidding, I’m not that arrogant. You are attractive... and a night with me will promise to be pretty damn good.”

He put his drink down on the napkin and quickly traced the rim of the glass one time. ”You’re a bit far…”. Homer patted down the empty seat that was in between them. ”Why don't you inch closer, Aster Gardner. We can plant the seeds of a satisfying lust-affair.”

Homer was sitting in the front row for Aster’s little preening performance, and he made sure to take advantage. He played a visual game of connect-the-dots, moving his eyes from her neck, to her clavicle, and finally, laid his sight on the part of her dress that protruded the most. The ivory bust with two pink rosebuds for punctuation.

She told him he talked big, and he grinned. That had to be a set-up. ”Well…” He began, mirroring her and leaning his elbow along the bar. ”You’ll have to get used to big things with me.” He looked directly into her irides for a moment before grabbing his glass and lightly shaking it a bit. ”...And by that I mean I own a king-size bed.” A joke to amuse himself more than her. ”Not a lot of sleeping gets done in it though.”

He rested his chin on his fist, almost as if he were bored, and his eyes returned to her chest. ”...We should get to the fondling, Aster.”