At the Bar

[VerbalAbuse]

I sit in a booth off to the side of the bar.
Across the table, a stranger drinks his beer without saying a word.
The bar is sunk in semi-darkness, lit only by the glow of liquor signs behind the counter and a few dim green neon lights. A couple of ceiling fans rotate lazily overhead—more for show than comfort, since the air conditioning is on. The air is cold and damp, heavy with the scent of beer, trash, toilet cleaner, and disinfectant.
A dozen or so working-class types linger in the place at this hour—burly and skinny, tall and short, dressed in jeans, shirts, tank tops, and worn jackets. Their hair is greasy, their faces unshaven. A ripe stench rises from their armpits—sharp and pissy enough to knock you out cold.
My girlfriend perches high on a barstool, leaning forward over the counter. Her pale, exposed back catches the light—and every passing glance. She’s wearing a matching set: a micro-skirt and a backless halter top, both cut from glittery, silvery fabric. The outfit clings tight, barely covering her breasts or her arched, pushed-out ass—and not much else.
She’s turned slightly to one side, chatting with a tall, burly man in his thirties. Black hair spills from his open shirt and mats his thick, muscular arms.

 

[MsK2021]

It's easy to see Kaye get sucked into a bar scene. The ambience, the music and the colorful dim lights are as intoxicating as her Whiskey Sour. She likes the pungent taste of what comes in contact with her. Yes, pungent, sour and salty, nothing sugary sweet. She likes it sting a little or even burns a bit, but nothing stronger than that for her.

Sober mostly. In a very short skirt always.

This bar is filled with a mixture of motions and emotions that are not really understood. The glow of liquor signs behind the counter is the only thing that stands out in the dark but it doesn't show the reason why Kaye is sitting high on a barstool chatting with another man while her companion VA is in a booth off to the side of the bar.

 

[VerbalAbuse]

The man slips a hand inside her top. I can't see it, but I imagine it's large and rough, with thick fingers tufted with hair. He grabs Kaye's pierced, soft nipple between them and twists. She laughs -- pleasantly, lusciously -- and leans forward to whisper something in his ear. I can guess what it is: her nipples aren't the only parts of her body that are pierced.

He laughs loudly, vulgarly, mouth wide open. Maybe it's just the light, but his teeth look yellow, and I imagine his breath smells unpleasant.

He pulls his hand from her top and runs it through his greasy hair, still grinning. He tells her something -- probably just what a hot cunt she is. She nods invitingly, batting her eyelashes and licking her lips.

His hand descends down her cleavage, over her navel, and slips beneath the waistband of her skirt. I know for a fact the slut wears no panties -- he could push her legs apart and reach her undoubtedly wet pussy in seconds. Well, he's reached it anyway, and by the motion of his arm, he's exploring it with undisguised enthusiasm. I bet his fingers are deep inside her sticky, steamy hot hole. The back-and-forth of his arm -- that must count as fucking.

 

[SabinesSeductions]

Kaye could feel his eyes boring into her . He wasn't taking them off of her in this moment. She un crossed her legs, and let a low sigh escape her parted lips. She reached for her whiskey, and took a slow sip, her gaze never leaving the burly man in front of her. His mouth agape, he stared at his hand working under her skirt. She was hot, certainly wet, but this guy was fumbling around her hot hole like an amateur. Every once in awhile, he would bump into the right spot, or slide one of his rough thick fingers deep inside her. In response, she would squirm a little bit, just to keep the stranger engaged, and fingering her hot box. He was still watching her from his table in the corner. She silently wished he would give her the signal they had agreed upon, this was getting boring.

When he came to the bar, she would stand from her barstool, and walk out the door, turn left, walk fifteen steps to the alley, turn right. By then his footsteps would have gotten heavy behind her, and she would feel the soft warm of his hand slip around her neck and shove her into the wall.

She was getting impatient, that he hadn't made his way to the bar yet. What was he waiting for? It dawned on her slowly, and made her hotter than she thought possible. He wanted her to cum, right there , in public; if that wasn't his goal, she was happy to take this game to the next level, and see just how far she could push his patience.

She began moving against the strangers strong working hand. Grabbing his muscular forearm, she directed him right where she wanted him. She leaned over, rubbing her tits on his shoulder, hold your thumb right there, and slide a couple fingers in. Let me do the work."

The stranger stood silently holding his arm in place, just staring at her tits. He watched from the corner as she basically mounted his fingers, and began to grind her hot cunt on his palm. Her head tipped back just enough, that her hair fell off her shoulder, exposing her heaving chest as she got closer to drenching that man. He knew what that man didnt, when she came, she was going to squirt all over that stool. He considered letting her, he saw how close she was, moments away in fact. He stood, cleared his throat and walked to the bar.

 

[VerbalAbuse]

"Look at those two at the bar," I say to the stranger across the table.

"Holy cow!" he exclaims. "Whatta hoochie!"

My raging hard-on presses painfully against my tight pants.

"Who's the tart?" the man asks. "I've seen her around, I'm sure. Is she a prossie?"

"Almost," I say. "She's my girlfriend."

"You gotta be shitting me," he says. "She goes at men like that?"

"She's a slut."

"You let her?"

"Fuck, yeah. Makes me crazy horny."

The two at the bar counter stand up, still sucking faces, and walk hand in hand along the counter into the narrow gangway leading to the back of the shack.