by Bridy McAvoy
He tried to hide his disappointment as Jim stepped into the space behind me and wrapped a protective arm around my waist. The penny dropped for this guy, who had about as much chance of pulling me as he did making a working chocolate teapot. He smiled and nodded then moved away, heading toward the other end of the bar where Ben was loading the glass washer. He didn’t even get the chance to try a pickup line on me.
Jim’s arm was around my waist, his hand splayed on my stomach over the thin top. I could feel the heat from his hand against my skin as we chatted about this and that, nothing really, for five minutes. Then someone else needed serving and Ben was busy so Jim went and served him before coming back. When he came back he put his own drink down next to mine—giving any other drinker yet another signal, I guess—and stood closer to me. This time his hand was higher, just below the curve of my breasts.
In the meantime, I’d managed to undo the bottom four buttons on my skirt, giving me enough room to move a little, and at the same time ease the skirt down to cover a bit more leg as I sat at the bar with my legs crossed. I was still showing thigh but not quite as much. I was twisted partway toward the bar, and I somehow hadn’t noticed the front of the bar was actually metal, polished to a mirror shine. Anyone with the right viewing angle could see rather more than I’d anticipated. At least half the guys in the bar knew my bra and panty set matched.
Over the next half hour the number of customers diminished. A couple of new ones came in, but more left. Every single one was male and all of them checked me out. Some of them were quite brazen about it, some less so. Only one made a play for me, but as he got close I think I saw Ben signal him with a wagging finger. Jim returned to my side a moment later and that was it.
Eleven o’clock came around and I was actually surprised it was that late. I hadn’t been paying attention and, just as on Saturday, Jim’s witty conversations and off-color jokes had kept me laughing. I’d had two sodas and no alcohol so was still stone cold sober, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t ready for sex.
I excused myself to use the ladies, and spent a couple of minutes redoing my lippy and makeup then returned to the bar. I’d half expected Jim to intercept me outside the door to the powder room, but he didn’t. When I reached the main bar it was empty except for Jim standing where I’d left him, and Ben just bolting the door.
“There she is.”
He smiled broadly and as I walked back across the bar toward him he came to meet me. I expected him to turn me around and lead me upstairs, but he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed my hand and led me over to the jukebox. It hadn’t been playing earlier—no music at all—but now it was switched on and he punched in a couple of numbers as he wrapped his arm around my waist again. I noticed the songs he chose were all slow ones, so I reasoned he wanted to dance with me first.
“Let’s dance, baby.”
He pulled me into his arms as the chords of the first song swelled into the silence. I could see Ben working his way along the front of the bar, closing the drapes. As Jim started to dance with me, turning me around in slow circles, his hands pressed close to my back. I kept an eye on Ben’s progress.
He collected the empty glasses, not that there were many, and then wiped down the tables. As he started doing that, Jim bent his head down and started to kiss me. I’d been horny all night—the lecherous glances of the bar’s patrons had kept me in quite a high state of arousal since I’d got there. The way Jim had been so possessive of me seemed to just intensify that. I kissed him back. His hands started to move—one up higher on my back, catching and then letting go of my bra strap, the other stroking slowly down onto the curve of my butt. I pressed myself closer to him, rubbing against him, feeling the way his cock was starting to lengthen in his trousers.
The song finished and, breaking the kiss, I established a little gap between us. Ben was now behind the bar, dealing with the glass cleaner and didn’t seem to be paying us any attention. Jim, meanwhile, was staring at my chest. “You’d look great in that top without a bra.”
I shivered at the thought of being in such a public place dressed, or rather undressed, like that. A bit of fooling around in a secluded space, fine, but actually in a bar? I shot a glance toward the bar where Ben was still working.
Jim laughed. “Don’t mind him, he’s gay.”
“He is?”
“Of course he is. He doesn’t count.”
I shuddered. Now it was obvious Jim wasn’t going to take me upstairs to that nice comfortable bed, even if it did have those clichéd black satin sheets—he was going to take me down here. Take me, fuck me, call it what you will, but he was going to do so with another man present, even if that man wasn’t interested in me. I couldn’t help giving a little moan at the sheer corrupt hedonism of such an act as the jukebox started up again and Jim pulled me into his arms. This time my arms went straight around his neck and we kissed again. His hands both dropped to my butt and he started massaging and squeezing it as we danced in place.
Visions filled my head, of Jim pushing me back onto one of the booths, him spreading my legs on top of one of the tables, bending me over the pool table or even over a bar stool. The last of those fantasies got me really going. In my head Jim was fucking me from behind as I hung onto the edge of the bar while Ben continued to work right in front of me.
My head was getting me into trouble by the time the music finished.
“Baby, do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Well, do us both a favor.” He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “Go to the powder room, remove your underwear and then come back out here.”
“You mean my bra?”
“No, I mean both your bra and your panties.”
I’d been right—he wanted to fuck me in the bar. I shivered but I’d come too far to back out. I’d turned up knowing I was going to let him fuck me. “Are you sure he’s gay?”
“Bent as a nine dollar note.”
“Hmm…”
He kissed the end of my nose. “Please, for me. I want to see what you look like dressed like that.”
“I’m surprised you don’t want to remove them yourself.”
“Well, if you want me to, I will, but I might tear the top in my haste, and you haven’t got another one with you.”
In my lust-fogged state I guess that made sense, but I was still sober. I cast another glance at Ben but he had his back to us, seemingly oblivious to what was going on as he worked at the glass washer.
“Okay.”
“Good girl.”
He stepped back and gently turned me in the direction of the powder room. I tried not to shiver as I walked away from him, knowing just how slutty my clothing was about to become. I could feel his stare boring into my butt as I walked away. It was a turn-on. I put a lot of sway into my ass as I walked out of sight.
“You really believed him when he said his bartender was gay and didn’t count?”
She jumped a little at my interruption. I’d already seen how the story would play out.
“I guess, yes, I did. I was so naïve. I thought I was sophisticated, and really I was acting like the horny virgin I was portraying myself to you as.”
“Staying in character then.”
She winced, but then stuck her tongue out at me. “Do you want me to continue?”
“Do I want you to? No. Do I think you need to? Yes.”
She nodded and forced herself to smile. If it was hard for her to tell, it was also harder for me to hear.
Once I had the door closed I knew I had to move quite quickly. My panties wouldn’t be a problem. That was a simple hands up my skirt and pull down. With no garters to get fouled, or in the way, it would be easy. The bra, though, was going to be more difficult, especially as I didn’t want to mess my hair up. In the end, I pulled my arms out of the sleeves, one at a time—it was stretchy enough for me to do that. Slipping the bra off then was easy. Pulling the sleeves back on wasn’t exactly elegant but I didn’t care, I was the only one
in there. Then I had a thought, maybe he had CCTV covering the whole of the bar including the toilets? I hurriedly checked the ceiling, looking for cameras in the corners, but there weren’t any.
As I’d said, my panties were easy to slip off and I quickly undid another couple of buttons on the skirt, knowing this increased the amount of leg I exposed every time I took a step, also making it easier for him to slide my skirt up. It was still tight across my butt, but as soon as it went up about three inches it would slide easily. Once done, I checked myself in the mirror. I looked like sex on legs. You could see every single detail of my breasts. I shivered, trying to ignore the feeling of warmth flooding my core.
I’d made a mistake as well. I’d left my purse on the bar when he’d led me over to the juke box. Here I was with my underwear in my hand and nowhere to put them. As I left the powder room I remembered how Jim had tricked me the previous Saturday night, how I hadn’t known his friends were there. What if he’d done the same tonight? What if, when I walked out into the bar carrying my underwear, he’d let his friends in and there were twenty guys suddenly staring at my virtually topless body. I froze for a second, panic bringing a flood of adrenalin through my system. The flight or fight reflex kicked into overdrive—in full-on flight mode!
I wrapped both arms across my chest, holding my underwear in one hand, and stepped toward the opening into the bar, ready to scream and bolt for the door if there was anyone else there. There wasn’t, just Jim standing there by the jukebox waiting for me, a smile playing across his face. Ben was still behind the bar, getting on with the job of clearing up after the night’s drinking. Okay, I know I was naïve to think he was gay. I had no proof of that. I took Jim at his word. What happened a few minutes later caught me entirely by surprise. I walked over to the end of the bar and turned my back on Jim while I quickly stuffed my underwear into my purse. Then, putting my arms down by my sides, I spun back around to face him, and walked across the bar. I desperately wanted to lift my hands and shield my breasts but I didn’t cover up. I watched Jim watching me and, from the corner of my eye, I could see Ben watching. I guess I got a glimmer of understanding that maybe Jim was lying, but only a tiny bit. Then I was right in front of Jim and he pulled me into his arms. I guess he must have hit the play button when I wasn’t looking because another slow song started to play.
We kissed and swayed to the music—there was no pretense at really dancing. We just swayed in place, our bodies pressed together, my nearly naked breasts flattened against his chest, his hands all over my ass, and my arms around his neck as our tongues played chase. We stayed like that for one whole song, and then, as a second song started, I could feel his hands moving to my hips and my skirt starting to slide up. Seeing as I was naked under the skirt, I almost panicked then forced myself to relax. He let go of my skirt at the sides, and slid one hand between us. He groped for the slit at the front then pushed his hand into the gap, straight onto my mound. I ground against his hand and moaned into his mouth. After a few seconds he shifted his hand back to my hip and my skirt was dragged higher.
After another couple of times and my skirt was above my butt. I could feel the cool draught from the air-conditioner playing across my naked skin. Now his fingers had unrestricted access to my slit. My legs were trembling as he continued to plunder my mouth with his tongue, and my pussy with his hand. I was humping against his fingers as he spread my outer lips apart, teasing me with my own slickness. He pressed against my clit then gently pinched it. My eyes were closed and I humped against his leg as his hands rose higher.
Suddenly his hands grasped mine and spun me through a half-circle to face away from him. My hands dropped back behind his head and I craned my neck to enable him to kiss me again. My eyes stayed shut as I surrendered myself to his touch. He could reach any and all of me, from my breasts to my pussy, without having to move anything out of the way. I could feel his rock-hard cock pressing between my buttocks, and I knew it wouldn’t be long now. One hand had free rein over my breasts, the other working between my legs. I ground and thrust back against him, capturing his cock in the crease of my ass, imprisoning it there and humping against it. He worked the hem of my top free from the waistband of my skirt and then both hands worked their way up inside it, teasing my naked nipples.
I felt another pair of hands at my waist, pulling my skirt higher, and it took a few seconds to realize I had four hands on me. My eyes opened in shock and my head jerked forward. Before I could react fully to what was happening, my lips were caught by Ben’s who started kissing me as hard as Jim had. He jerked my skirt all the way up to my waist and his fingers started to play with my pussy. Now I knew Jim had been kidding me along—Ben was no more gay than Jim was. It had simply been Jim’s way to get me to lower my guard and then let his staff member fuck me too.
I was too far gone to care. They manhandled me across the bar, the music forgotten now it had done its job. Ben pulled away and I found a bar stool right in front of me as Jim pulled my top up, completely exposing my breasts.
Jim pushed me on my back, bending me over the stool as Ben approached me from the other side of it. That was it. Within seconds, Jim had pushed into me from behind, while Ben’s equally impressive cock was bouncing in front of my face. I didn’t have to decide what to do—they’d taken that from me. I opened my mouth to cry out as Jim bottomed out in me, and Ben stifled my cries by the simple expedient of pushing his cock into my mouth.
Bang. I was being double teamed, DP’ed—whatever you want to call it. A cock at each end, and little or no say in the matter. Not that I cared about that. My pussy spasmed around Jim’s cock as I came and Ben grunted as his cock entered my throat. Somehow I managed to keep control of my breathing but it wasn’t easy, especially as they made no attempt to establish a rhythm. Sometimes one was thrusting in while the other pulled out. Sometimes they both pushed in together, squashing me. Sometimes they both pulled out together making me feel empty. It didn’t matter. I loved every second of it. Best bit of it was, I was sober all the way through it.
I lost track of the number of times I came before Ben spent himself straight down my throat. Then Jim came inside me before pulling out and sitting on the nearest stool. I lay across my own stool as his spunk drooled out of me and then I slowly pushed myself to my feet and staggered to the powder room to make myself half decent.
By the time I came out, I thought Jim would be up for another go round, but Ben had disappeared—bastard, hadn’t even stayed behind to stay goodbye. All the time he’d never said a single word to me. I only knew his name because Jim had told me. Maybe Jim had been right—he fucking was gay, and to him a throat was a throat. Who knows? I never saw him again—he didn’t work Fridays.
“Drink?”
I nodded a ‘thanks’ and Jim poured us both a JD from a bottle behind the bar, and then sat next to me. I was still somewhat disheveled—and, remember, my underwear was in my purse. His eyes roamed over my chest, and down to where the skirt still gaped open at the front, but he was shagged out—and, to be honest, so was I. I’d been in a high state of arousal since closing time at the library, and six to seven hours is more than enough for any girl, especially so for me.
“So, baby, you want more of the same on Friday?”
I licked my lips. That was what I’d agreed to come here to talk about. I’d expected him to fuck me, but in his bed, not double team me on a bar stool.
“I guess.”
“But now you’re not so sure? Am I right?”
I nodded.
“Well, what would you like? Do you know?”
“No, not really.”
“But you want something.”
“I think so… Yes.”
“Okay, baby, not a problem. What we need to do is find out where your limits are. Obviously you won’t want to do anything down here while the bar is open? Right?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Pity. When you walked in I was going to announce that the entertainment was
here, lift you up to stand on the bar and get you to dance a striptease for everyone to see.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. That was far too close to the fantasy I’d had when I’d danced for Mr. Bryant. I opened my eyes as he laughed.
“I can see that struck a nerve.”
“Not happening.”
“Okay, so how about we have a lock in? After we close, a few guys stay back, and you dance for us.”
“How many guys?”
“Interesting. You didn’t say no to that idea.”
I frowned at him and then decided to hide my thoughts behind the whiskey glass.
He grinned at me and held his peace for a few moments. “How many guys would you like? Bear in mind they’re not just going to watch you, they’re going to fuck you afterwards, possibly more than once.”
I shook my head. “No, once and once only, either mouth or pussy, nothing else.”
“So a bit of suckee then fuckee, but as a train rather than a free-for-all gangbang?”
The questions were very direct and I blushed as I thought about my answer. Jim didn’t crowd me, letting me answer in my own time.
I left the bar that night sometime after twelve, with a definite plan for Friday night. Part of me couldn’t wait. Part of me was totally petrified.
Chapter Three – Friday
I had four days to get through before Friday, and on at least one of those evenings I was going to make sure I spoke to you to find out how you were getting on. That eventually happened on the Wednesday, and we arranged a date for Saturday. I knew if anything went awry on the Friday, I could cancel, but I didn’t want to—I wanted to see you.
I suppose at that moment I was thinking of the Friday night as some form of last hurrah before things got serious. I know you thought you were being sneaky and keeping things well hidden, but you’d dropped enough hints that I was sure you were getting close to making a proposal. I didn’t want to be doing what I was doing, sneaking behind your back once you popped the question.