Bar Whore

After being on vacation with family for a week, my horniness level was in high gear. As soon as my flight landed, I quickly picked up my car and raced home to change clothes. I needed to get to my favorite seedy bar, to see what sort of trouble I could find for myself this evening. It was hard to obey the speed limit!

I changed into my usual whore attire—short skirt, tight T-shirt, and of course, no bra or panties. I jumped back into the car, and drove the short distance to the bar, wondering who I would find to use me tonight. My nipples were hard in anticipation. My excitement level skyrocketed as I parked the car.

I strolled in, and sat down on a stool at the bar. I tend to sit with my legs slightly apart as I twirl back and forth on the stool, showing glimpses of my wet, naked pussy. I felt whorish—those flashes of pussy are my best advertisement. The bar was busy, and there was quite an assortment of men this evening. I sat and tried to pick out a target, but it didn’t really matter who the lucky winner was. I’d take the first load of cum that came my way—I was desperate for it. I squirmed on my seat in anticipation of my upcoming performance.

There were no open pool tables, so I wandered into the back room to play pinball for a few minutes until a pool table opened up. I started to play “Road Warrior.” When I play pinball, I put everything into it—and tonight, I put on quite a show. I made sure my tits bounced and jiggled as I leaned way over, humping against the machine as I played. I felt my skirt riding up high on my thighs, stopped only by the swell of my ass cheeks. As I finished a game, I noticed a tall, blond guy leaning against the wall, watching me from behind.

“Nice view,” he said as he slowly walked up beside the machine. “Glad you’re enjoying it,” I told him. My nipples were hard, and I knew he could see them. I had a difficult time maintaining my composure. I was excited by the thought of cum—it was so close now. “Mind if I watch you play again? I might pick up some pointers,” he told me. I smiled and told him I didn’t mind, especially if I could give him the kind of pointers he was looking for. He grinned, and I watched his eyes drop to the front of my T-shirt. He knew exactly what I meant.

I dropped in quarters for the next game. The nasty whore in me had risen to the surface--I made sure to lean way over, so my skirt would ride up again. It was obvious I wasn’t wearing panties. He came over and stood next to me, and I felt his arm snake around my waist. I kept playing as I felt his hand travel slowly down over my ass, and across the back of my thigh. He didn’t waste any time sliding his hand under my skirt. I leaned farther over the flashing, ringing machine, hoping to feel his hand glide across my wet pussy. I wanted to feel his hand there. The thought of clamping around his fingers flooded my mind. I needed the feel of a dirty public-sex cum so badly—both his and mine. My excitement sent waves of wetness directly to my pussy.

I wasn’t even paying attention to the pinball game anymore. My tits were pressed against the warm glass top of the game. I was sliding them slowly up and down against the glass while he ran his hands over my ass. He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me upright. “Let’s go to the back and sit down for a drink,” he whispered into my ear. I could smell the liquor and cigarettes on his breath. “Do we have to go just yet?” I whined. “I really like how your hands feel on my ass. Keep touching me there for a little while longer, please?” I was begging for this stranger’s touch. I think he knew I liked being touched where everyone could see me. I liked being a slut on display in a bar full of horny, drunk men. His cum was so close—I knew it would be mine soon.

He ran his hands up over my hips and waist, until they met in front on my tits. I felt his cock pushing and grinding against my ass. I couldn’t help pushing back, rubbing his hard-on with my ass. “You’re a nasty one, aren’t you, baby? I like that,” he hissed into my ear. He put his hand on the back of my neck, keeping me pushed down against the glass. I felt his other hand move back under my skirt; my breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t move, and I didn’t want to. His fingers slid inside my wet slit, quickly grazing my clit. He pulled me up. “Let’s go to the back, NOW. I’m in a hurry. I’ll give you a little more later, after you give me what I need.”

He pulled me through the smoky darkness to the famous “last booth.” Only dirty girls and whores sat in the last booth. If you sat there, you got what you deserved. He slid in first, and pulled me in behind him. I almost came the minute my ass felt the coldness of the wooden bench. I tried to sit sideways so the edge of the bench would slide between my pussy lips—I needed to grind against that edge, but I hardly got the chance. He pushed me down to my knees onto the sticky floor, pushing my head down into his lap, and holding it there so I couldn’t move. My hands instinctively unzipped his pants, and his hard cock popped right out. He was average size and thickness. I took him in my hand and started to slowly pump his cock up and down. “Use your tongue, you tease,” he barked. “Make me come, and quick.”

He was still holding my head down. His cock was right in my face while I ran my hand up and down the shaft. I used my other hand to massage his balls, and I felt him jump when I squeezed them. I flicked the tip of his cock with my tongue, tasting a bit of salty-sweet precum. He was thrusting his hips, pushing his cock against my cheek. His balls were tight in my hand, and I knew he wouldn’t last long. His cock found my lips and pushed inside. I barely let the head slip in and out of my mouth before I felt his hot blast all over my cheeks, lips and chin. I felt a few streaks running down my neck, rolling towards the valley between my tits.

It was the warm, wet feeling I’d come for. My eyes were closed as I enjoyed the brief feeling of his cock swirling across my cheek in a slick of his own cum. I wanted to touch it with my fingers—to rub it around my face and neck. I also had to taste a little, and I let my tongue dart out of the edge of my lips to steal a pearl of his cream. My pussy was humping air—I needed to cum so badly. I was almost in a frenzy—I had to cum while I had this stranger’s spunk coating me, and his cock shoved against my face.

I felt the pressure release from the back of my neck. I opened my eyes and watched him shove his cock back into his fly and zip up. “Move,” he said. “I need to go.” I slid back to let him out of the booth. I had fresh cum all over my face and throat, glistening for anyone to see. I couldn’t believe he was leaving—I needed so badly to cum, yet I was powerless to keep him there. It wasn’t fair.

I watched him walk over to the bar and sit down. A few seconds later, a tall blonde woman sat down next to him and gave him a kiss. They leaned over and whispered to each other. She looked over at me, and then they talked some more. I saw her look at me again and laugh. They stood up, and held hands as they walked out. I knew they were talking about me, and what a nasty whore I’d been. I felt so cheated—he was going to take her home to fuck her and make her cum. He left me sitting on the hard bench, sticky with his nasty jizz, unfulfilled.

I sat there a minute, still coated with his stickiness. I needed to cum. I slid out of the booth and strode out of the bar, tits bouncing. I didn’t care who saw my wet, sticky face. I wanted everyone to see it—I was a dirty girl.

I jumped into the car, hiked up my skirt, and furiously masturbated in the parking lot until I came. I felt the cool stickiness of the cum drying on my face and neck as an explosive orgasm shot through my body. I arched against the car seat while the contractions radiated through me. It was what I’d worked towards…it was my reward.

I pulled down the rear-view mirror to look at my cum-coated face. Sticky white flecks of drying cum were everywhere. I even had a few drying blobs on the front of my black T-shirt. I smiled, thinking I wouldn’t wash that shirt for awhile!

My evening was complete—I felt cheap and used, and that was just what I wanted.