It happened in a dive bar outside of town, just off the highway. I was heading back in after a day trip up north and thought some food might be a good move. I'd been to this place before with friends; a little dirty, a little rough but the food and drinks were always on point. I come in out of the late-summer heat just as the sun dipped below the horizon. As patrons are wont to do when someone first enters their bar, sixteen sets of old, tired eyes shoot a look towards me as I stand in the doorway, taking off my hat and sunglasses, letting my long hair down after my drive.
I stop at the counter, order a coke and a shot of Jim as well as a sandwich and fries. From there, I go to the emptiest table in the darkest corner of the bar I can find. Downing my whiskey, I just have the coke to my lips when this old bird, maybe in his sixties, white and fat with a Santa Claus beard comes and sits next to me. I'm pretty sure he'd been eying me since I walked in, which was fine; he is very much my type! Taking the chair at my left, he sets his hand on my knee and lightly strokes it as he makes small talk; how are ya? Alone tonight? Whatcha drinkin'? The alcohol hangs around him in a cloud, the smell of stale cigarettes strong on his breath.
He adjusts his chair so he's much closer to me, his hand having gone up well past my knee. My heart's racing and my cock has gone totally stiff. All I can think about is having this fat fuck mount me and dump a load or two in me. With my mind racing through that fantasy, his fingers start tracing slow circles over my inner thigh. He's starting to get dangerously close to my cock and if he touches it, Santa's gonna have me in his lap whispering exactly what I want for Christmas from him as I grind my chubby ass against him. His fingers pull back a bit and he leans against my ear.
In a low whisper, he asks if I want to see his cock. My mouth having long gone dry and with a furious blush on my face, I nod my head yes and he takes my trembling hand and guides it to the bulge in his jeans, helping me unzip him. In such a public place? I can't believe this is happening, but it is. I hear the grind of his zipper as it's pulled down. I can't to see what my new friend has for me. No underwear, that's a good start. His nuts, full to burst, rest comically in a dense bush of pubic hair. His cock, 5" or so and uncut, is wet with precum. I can smell his sweat and excitement. My head begins to swim as I feel his hand gliding over my own fabric-bound bulge.
"Do you like him?" My drunk Santa Claus asks, mouth still by my ear. "He really likes you," I hear him mumble, before he nibbles at my earlobe. Taking his slippery cock in hand, I stroke him. He moans a little, groans a little. His breathing quickens.
"On your knees, baby. Take care of this nasty cock." whispers Santa's slurring voice as I feel his hands on my shoulder, urging my to the floor. I oblige, getting caught up on my chair and making a quite a bit of noise as I do so. Before now, only a couple of other patrons had taken notice of us and were spending their time leering eagerly at my friend and I. With my clumsiness, though, most of the bar was looking our way. I could almost swear I hear the sound of a deadbolt being thrown, But I'm in no position to care as this drunk guides my wet mouth to his sweaty, slick cock.
"Give him a kiss, baby," he says as he rolls his foreskin back. "he needs to know how much you want him."
Christ, do I! Right now, I can't think of anything I've ever wanted so bad! So, I gently place my lips against the silky skin of his purple head, precum coating my lips, a small gush of the salty stuff bubbling free of his slit as I make contact. The old man sighs, calling me a good little bitch while he exhales.
