Lynn had insisted that they go to the reading, even though she had long ago lost interest in Dave's work. She claimed it was to support their friend Anna, who had recently left her husband and was going to be performing for the first time, but Dave strongly suspected it was for the headliner, his friend Logan, a chiseled mountain of muscle who fit nobody's visual expectation of a poet, but was certainly the type most likely to make his wife drool.

Dave had anticipated nothing from Anna's performance. She was an attractive woman, thin and taut, of medium height, with shoulder length light brown hair, deep eyes, a long neck, small firm breasts, a tight ass, and well turned legs, but she dressed incredibly conservatively in prim dresses with matching hats, had no consistent spark or energy, and had certainly never struck him as someone who could wring power from the English language. Until she started. Dave sat in awe, watching her sexual peak break through the surface, pushing aside years of suppressed emotion. Her anger was gorgeous. His expectation of the evening shifted completely, from the amusement of watching his wife flirt, to the possibility of seducing Anna. She obviously needed sympathy and understanding, cuddling and fondling. Her anger needed to fuck. The magic of her words washed over Dave, empowering him to consider approaching her after the reading. Looking around he could see those who knew Anna recoiling in embarrassment at her terrible outbreak of honest aggressive passionate truth. Which meant, Dave knew, that Anna would be standing in the reception afterwards surrounded by strangers who could not personalize her pain, who could not sympathize, who would be at a disadvantage in the competition to provide an outlet for her rage.

Dave barely heard Logan's recitation, barely noticed his wife's reaction, her altered breathing, her fingertips stroking her own arms, the rise and fall of her breasts, the thrust of her hard nipples. Instead he thought about Anna, about how he would approach her, win her over, seduce her in the coming weeks, for Dave was a slow and patient worker. He was not going to try to rush her into bed while she was still dressing like a Sunday School teacher, as much as the idea of fucking her while she wore the hat appealed to him. But even the slow and patient need a quick start. Now was the time to plant the idea, to help her see him as a kindred spirit, in tune with her highest and lowest, her brightest and darkest desires.

When Logan had finished, Dave looked around for Anna. Lynn had already left his side, was off in a corner talking urgently with Logan, moving, giggling, playing, flirting. Anna stood alone, sipping from a cup of coffee. Even the strangers were embarrassed. "That was strong" he said to her. There was a silence and then a little laugh "Oh!" she said "I thought you meant the coffee! Thank you!"

Dave smiled, looking at her, picturing her into the future as her confidence grew, without the jacket, without the bra, without the hat, well, maybe with the hat, with her hair a little teased and her skirt a little shorter, with that laugh a little stronger, she would be dynamite. "I'm looking forward to your next reading."

Anna actually blushed. "I don't know. All my stuff is so... so personal."

"More personal than this one?"

"Well, I'd, have to..." she looked down at her coffee, breathtakingly beautiful in an instant of vulnerability. "I'd have to edit out the X-rated parts."

Dave was momentarily stunned. This was a side of her he could not have imagined. He cleared his throat, desperately thinking of what to say next. "I don't think you'd have to worry about this crowd" he responded "but I understand, I don't share everything I write either..." he trailed off, leaving the hint for their next conversation, hoping she would pick up on it, looking around for his wife. No Lynn. He tried to hide his panic, the panic he always felt when she disappeared but, as usual, she reappeared quickly enough, this time from the back room of the coffee house. He'd been so absorbed with Anna he hadn't noticed her wander that way. Or Logan, who emerged a moment later, joined Lynn near the bar, whispered something, walked over to where Dave and Anna stood talking, and asked Dave to introduce them formally. As Logan and Anna exchanged compliments Dave watched her, imagined her stripping, imagined her naked, imagined kissing her, and her kissing back, rolling around naked on a giant bed suspended in space and time. Finally he excused himself, promised Anna they would talk more, walked back to his wife at the bar with a spring in his step and optimism in his heart.

Lynn seemed especially cheerful, almost giddy, and they chatted amiably for a few minutes about the reading, the bar, the people, Anna and Logan, until Dave, over Lynn's shoulder, saw Logan wave goodbye from the front door, waved back, watched Logan open the door for Anna, watched him escort her out, into the night, with his hand on her ass.