I was well into my second pitcher and having a capital time at the local haunt when I caught the spark in her eye, at the other end of the main room.
"Second pitcher," you ask? Of course! There's no way in hell I'm subsidizing these sub $100k per year salary, do-nothing liberal louts I hang out with! Let them buy their own pitchers!
When our eyes made contact, I immediately knew what had to be done.
"My good man," I motioned to the bartender, "let's get a taste of that '86 Petrus." The Irishman nodded, hurriedly and obediently making his way past the others behind the counter on his way down to the cellar. God, I love waving money around.
The moment of truth was near, so I took a moment of quiet-before-the-storm to make sure that my shirt collar was appropriately popped. I checked my appearance in the mirror--the handsome reflection didn't look that ridiculous, especially not in contrast with my very expensive Italian custom-tailored suit.
The Irishman was back. I swirled the deep, dark red fluid caressing the inside of the glass. The aroma was intoxicating. It was time to make things happen.
"Say," I whispered in her ear, "I made six figures in the commodities market this afternoon. I'd like to celebrate by inviting you to be my dirty whore tonight." Her eyes briefly widened, but I could already smell her excitement. She took the glass from my hand and brought it close to her remarkable lips, which were delightfully framed by her well-defined, yet soft and uniquely European jawline.
She smiled as I patiently waited for her to inhale the fruit of my expertly-chosen $450 dollar per glass offering. That smile widened ever so slightly--the wheels were set in motion on their way to the inevitable.
The evening ended splendidly. Some black caviar and another couple of bottles of wine were enjoyed back in my luxurious condominium, which is located in a well-to-do part of the city. We had vaginal and anal sex, and I subsequently paged my driver to drive her home.
As I sat in one of my many, very expensive, designer chairs and reflected upon the evening--the trivial expenditures, the nasty, sweaty anal and vaginal intercourse with a woman more adventurous and stunning than what most men could ever imagine--I was reminded that I have not yet commented on this thread.