The offerings are entirely fictional.
The action takes place in a provincial town in Northern England some years ago. This wine bar is located on the first floor (second floor in countries other than the UK) over a shop. The man who runs the wine bar has a small apartment on the top floor. This establishment is quieter during the week but get's crowded on weekend nights. The action takes place one Saturday night in the 1980's.
Anthea
By ten o'clock the place is heaving and Anthea is passed on the stairs by a couple she knows. They pause to speak before the man and woman leave and the young woman enters a hubbub of sound. She makes her way over to the bar and is greeted by the owner.
"So you've made it."
"Yeah. Thankfully the photo shoot finished early."
Anthea was a fashion model and a UK size 8. She wasn't tall enough for the cat walk but made a good living as a catalogue model with the occasional soft porn photographic on the side where her curvy shape and flawless skin were in demand.
Mike poured her a drink and then began the first moves to get rid of the customers who wouldn't take part in the Saturday night 'lock in'.
By 10:30 pm the place had emptied out considerably and the hardcore of regulars were now gathered around the bar and began persuading the owner to get out his guitar.
Mike had been a pro musician when younger, a lead guitar and vocalist whose band had folded a few years before. Finally showing willing he tuned up and set a chair against the bar facing the audience and had already played a couple of up tempo numbers when Anthea approached.
"Budge up girls."
She was speaking to the six or so women already seated up on the bar who immediately made a space then hauled her up to join them. Whether by design or mere fortune when Mike sat back down with a refilled glass he found Anthea's denim clad knees on either side of his ears.
After playing a moody slow number he became conscious that she had slid her bottom forward until her mound was against the back of his head and he could feel the heat of her fanny.
"Ho ho," was his immediate thought as he pressed back in acknowledgement.
He sang and played another faster number and felt Anthea moving in time to the rhythm but as the last chord died away she leant forward to place cherry red lips next to his ear.
"Could you do
Me and Bobbie Mcgee.
?"
He raised his head and she bent further.
"Okay, next but one."
She started to raise herself upright again but he beckoned her back and spoke under cover of the general buzz of conversation.
"Were you getting off?"
"Mmmm...Yes."
Her soft reply was a touch tentative so he probed again.
"Can you orgasm without touching yourself?"
"Sometimes, no, usually."
With that she straightened but he was now doubly conscious of her presence at his back and was glad that a sudden erection was hidden by the belly of his guitar.
He finally got round to playing Anthea's request and as he got to the second refrain of
feeling good was easy, Lord
Mike felt her thighs stiffen and knew instantly that she had got where she wanted.
Later, perhaps as some reward or merely because she needed tender contact, Anthea pulled his head back and kissed him with soft post orgasmic lips before whispering a quiet request.
"Promise me you wont say anything. Not to anyone."
Nor did he.
Florence
She would go out that Saturday night. Decision made. Go out for a bit of fun company. Florence was fed up after a bitch of a week and because her husband was away on a 'men only' weekend. What was it this time? Oh yes, a 'stag do'.
She would go to the wine bar where no one would dream of questioning her presence without her husband Geoff, so after lunch she ran a bath and tipped in her favourite oils. But as she stripped before the long mirror Florence considered why their love life had gone off the boil.
Now in her early thirties Florence was a late starter. Admittedly she had been attractive in her youth but had suffered by having the ultimate in sexy best friend's but now she had become sexy herself. Her skin was superlative, the tits and bottom were firm and she had legs to die for. What was there not to desire? But her husband was no longer attentive, he no longer rushed home to ravish her, rarely even had sex with her.
She knew he wanked off regularly because she saw the evidence in the weekly wash so why didn't he fancy her anymore? Florence had even asked him straight out on one occasion but his reply was like a slap in her face.
"It's easier to just masturbate."
"Easier than coming in me?"
"No, but less effort than making sure you come."
Even when on rare occasions they did made love she was always left on the edge. Okay, he did try but shot off far too quick for her liking and then fell asleep. On those occasions and actually on most nights these days she saw to herself once he started snoring.
So in the embrace of the hot water Florence caressed her clitoris and with her legs rigid against the foot of the bath came noisily in anticipation of a fun evening.
...
Mike greeted Florence with a friendly kiss on the cheek. In fact he had a lot of time for this attractive woman whose husband had no appreciation of what a gem he had married. She looked sensational with her hair down, her high bosom outlined in a tight sweater and bare tanned legs under a mini-skirt.
"No Geoff tonight? Never mind. Your mates are all in the far room."
And indeed they were all there but by half nine Florence seemed to have become separated from the group and was seated at a table beside the acknowledged Lothario of their set. Every woman in the locality knew he was dangerous to know but he was also attractive and amusing so in her present mood this ill-treated wife was prepared to welcome all the attention she could get.
Aroused by his nearness, the sense of danger, and the hand kneading her thigh she was already wet with desire so when he suggested that they move on she was more than willing. Pleased that he had read the signs correctly he helped her up and they went out through the bar but on the stairs met Anthea.
