Barfly

It was early when she walked in the bar. About a half dozen guys on their way home from work were sitting at a table next to the darts. A regular was sitting at the near end of the bar playing video poker. His straw-hat pushed way back on his head showed the white forehead and deep red nose and cheeks of a man who worked outdoors over at the stockyards. His legs were wrapped around the stool showing the worn soles of his dusty western boots.

She had been instructed to sit at the bar, but she hesitated. All the men turned to look at her. The group hardly paused in their bullshit session, but their attention briefly turned to her. The guy at the bar only glanced over his shoulder, but the heavy bartender didn't take his eyes off her.

Wanting to turn around and leave, she moved haltingly toward the far end of the bar, started to drop into the booth in the back, but forced herself to take the last bar stool. It was as far from the men as she could get and still do as she had been told.

She lit a cigarette. Still wearing her sunglasses, she looked over the frames to see the bar keep walking toward her. He was sizing her up, but no more than he would for any other new patron—he didn't get that many.

She seemed out of place in this corner bar located between Houston's Ship Channel and a large blue-collar neighborhood. She was dressed nicer than most of the women that came there. Any woman arriving alone was fairly unusual, but that only meant she had come to meet someone.

The bartender wondered who she was there to meet. He knew his clientele, and could predict the arrival and preferences of most. Since he had never seen her before he figured she was waiting for one of his regulars and was curious to know who was scoring uptown.

When he got up close he saw her wedding band and a big diamond on her left hand. He guessed her age at about 45. He had noticed her nice shape when she came in silhouetted against the setting sun, but at that time he thought she was much younger. The truth was that spending enough money and time to keep in shape made her look younger than her age.

Before he could ask, she ordered a glass of chardonnay, and settled for the house white wine poured from a plastic spigot in a box. She didn't care. She lit a second cigarette before the first was finished, and took some big gulps of the wine. A deep breath and she was able to look around the room. She had imagined all their eyes following her, but when she looked at the men she saw none of them looking her way. She could relax a little, but was also slightly disappointed.

She looked the six guys over carefully. Average guys that one by one drifted away to their homes. The bar fly sipped his beer, played the video poker, and seemed to be in his own world. The barkeeper stayed busy wiping things.

Another glass of wine, the door opened. Two young guys came in. They looked like construction workers with very long hair and beards. A single guy in his 40s with a potbelly was followed by two young men wearing neckties. Then two young women walked in followed by their dates. No one sat at the bar. No one looked at her. She ordered another glass of wine, and took her last cigarette out.

She had done what she was told, but no one had paid any attention to her. When the wine came, she put her purse on the bar and fumbled for some cash. The bar tender asked if that was going to be it for the night. She said "yes," and put some cash on the bar, when he asked, "Were you supposed to meet someone here?"

She looked at his eyes and said that she was but he didn't show. "Can't imagine who would stand you up...who was he anyway?" She almost choked on her words as she said, "I don't know."

That stopped him.

She really wanted to leave quietly, but she heard herself say, "Maybe you can help me." He raised his thick eyebrows without speaking and looked intently at her.

She started to talk, got her words tangled, then started over saying, "Look, I was supposed to come here and let a guy pick me up."

"Pick you up? What is this? You're married, aren't you?"

"Oh, shit! I should just leave."

"Wait," he said. "I want to hear this, but I gotta take care of these guys." He scooted away toward the cash register. Took their cash, rang up the sale, and returned before she could put away her purse. With both elbows on the bar, he leaned toward her, and almost whispering asked, "What's going on with you, and how could I help?"

"It is like a game," she said. "I'm supposed to come here and make eye contact with a guy, flirt with him, and get him to take me home, but no one paid any attention to me. I'm kind of relieved, but I'm also embarrassed."

"Let me get this straight. Your husband wanted you to come here and pick up a stranger and take him home?"

"Yes...kind of. Well, no. Not my husband. My boyfriend." The bartender stood up straight and looked at the ceiling. "So", he said slowly, "what do you want from me?"

"Get one of these guys come talk to me." The bartender looked at her, then over his shoulder, then back at her. "Well, if it ain't gonna be me, I know someone you might like."

She took a deep breath. She was so far removed from her comfortable reality. Here she was far from her big house in a working class bar, about to be offered to a stranger by another stranger.

The bartender went to the other end of the bar and through a door that had a small diamond-shaped mirrored window. In a few minutes he came back out and motioned for her to come around the bar. She stood. Her legs felt a little weak. Too much wine mixed with fear.

She walked around the bar and through the door held open by the barkeeper. Inside was a small brightly lit office. It was not a mess, but definitely a working space with lots of paper stacked on the desk and tables. There was a small vinyl couch and a couple of chairs from the bar. She heard the door close. Behind the desk was a man in his late 30s.

He stood up. Wearing an unstructured gray sport jacket over a black tee shirt, and triple pleated slacks, she could see that he was in very good shape. His muscles were very big—obviously a weight lifter, but not so extreme that he could have been a competitive body builder.

"I don't want to offend you, but I need to make it clear that we don't allow hookers in our establishment—or cops looking for Johns either. Is that what you are doing?"

"No" she stammered. "It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

"It's just a little game. He wants me to go to a bar and flirt with a stranger and go off with him for a while."

"Why does he want you to do that?"

"So I can call him later and tell him about it."

"Call him?"

"Yes, when we have phone sex."

"Phone sex?" Is your husband out of town?" "Not my husband...it's my boyfriend I'm doing it for."

"Oh. I see, and you just want to get laid by a stranger, then call your boyfriend to tell him about it, right?"

She looked at the floor, and quietly said, "Yes, that's right."

There was a long pause. She heard him walk around the desk. She looked up to see him standing in front of her.

"OK," he said. "Let me look at you."

She looked at his square jaw, then up to his dark eyes under a thick brow. He had dense dark hair behind a receding hairline. She looked down at his arms folded across his chest. His hands were big with a big gold ring on each hand. His nails were professionally manicured.

She could smell him, his cologne and a hint of tobacco, but she was caught by the smell of his body. He uncrossed his arms and slowly extended his hand to her face. He touched her. She looked at his chest and shoulders. He was a big man. She felt paralyzed with fear and anticipation.

He lifted her chin. She looked into his eyes. He stepped back and refolded his big arms. "Raise your skirt. I want to see your legs."

She hesitated. "Go on. Do what you are told."

She looked down to watch her hands gather her skirt higher up her legs, but stopped just before her panties. She stopped. "The light is so bright."

He didn't move for a moment. Then he slowly reached across the desk to turn on a small desk lamp before switching off the overhead fluorescent lights--much better.

She knew the bright light betrayed her age, and now that the light was dimmer, she continued to raise her skirt to her waist exposing her flat tummy and firm legs. The man was looking at her legs. His arms remained folded across his chest. "Nice", he said.

"Take your skirt off."

She let the hem fall and unbuttoned the waist letting the skirt fall to the floor.

"Now your shirt." She looked down to see her hands mechanically unbuttoning her blouse. She let it fall from her shoulders. Her bra and panties were a jungle pattern, a hint of zebra stripes. Her breasts were small but firm enough and didn't sag too much. Her butt was firm but had lost some of the roundness of youth.

She was not ashamed of her body. Almost every morning she swam naked in her pool--secretly hoping the husbands of her neighborhood were watching—but she had seldom completely undressed in bright light in front of her husband or any of her lovers. Yet now she was standing in front of a stranger about to show everything.

"Go on," he commanded. She unhooked her bra and slipped it from her shoulders holding her arms over her breasts realizing that it was a lame gesture of modesty. And so she lowered her panties to her knees, let them fall to her feet, and then stepped from her shoes and stood before him naked and exposed to his gaze.

"Get on your knees."

She lowered herself unsteadily to her knees facing him but looking at his shoes, heavy black leather with extra thick soles. His shoes moved closer to her and stopped.

"Unzip my pants."

She raised her eyes to his crotch, but saw no bulge. She reached for his fly and pulled down the nylon zipper. His smell was stronger. Not unclean, but intense, reminded her of moss. She reached inside and found her way over the elastic band to find his cock still soft. She pulled it over the elastic and stretched it toward her face. She could feel it filling with blood before getting it in her mouth.

He pulled her head toward him and she was able to suck all of his flaccid cock into her mouth. She was for a moment able to actually suck on his cock, but soon it grew too large and he began to stroke through her hands and into and out of her mouth. His strokes became faster, and she started feeling him tremble. His cock swelled to pull the skin more tightly. His breathing grew louder. He made a groaning sound and she felt his warm cum in her mouth. The first oozed out, but the second was a powerful shot that went to the back of her throat and almost caused her to gag. There were more. She did not intend to swallow, but there was so much and she couldn't gag on it, so she swallowed what she could and the rest ran from her mouth, down her chin and onto her breasts.

She started to pull away, but she held her head to his cock. She felt him grow softer, but still he held her. She swallowed reflexively again and again. Soon she was able to suck all of his cock into her mouth once more.

He had not moved for several minutes. Her knees began to hurt. He pulled his soft wet dick from her mouth. "That felt very good," he said softly. "Go to the sofa."

She stood slowly and took the few steps to the small couch, more of a love seat really. Room enough for two. She sat on the vinyl and folded her legs under her. "Could I have something to drink?" she asked. "Yeah, sure. What are you drinking?"

"I've been drinking wine, but I want something stronger, and some water."

As he zipped up his pants and walked toward the door, she thought to get a tissue from her purse to wipe the cum from her face, but instead rubbed it into her chin and chest spreading his sperm until it dried in a thin cooling crust. She smelled her hands and filled her senses with his essence with a hint of ammonia.

He went through the door and quickly returned with two small glasses. Behind him was another man. He handed her the drinks. She drank all the water quickly and took a sip of the other—some kind of a vodka mix. "He is going to fuck you now while I watch. Then if I feel like it, I will fuck you too."

Her heart was pounding. She was afraid, embarrassed, and excited. She looked at the other man and was disappointed to see the barfly. She leaned back in the sofa wishing she could get out of this.

The manager sat behind his desk, while the other man walked to the sofa and stood looking at her. Grinning broadly he showed his crooked teeth stained by decades of chain-smoked cigarettes. "When you came in," he said, "I knew that you were here to get fucked." She started to say something, but before anything could come out, he reached down to feel her tits, and then he was on his knees kissing and sucking her breasts. His rough straw was still on his head until she pulled it off. She was going to put it on her own head, but it smelled like cigarettes and beer, so she tossed it toward the desk.

He made her nipples wet and cold but involuntarily erect. His hands pushed between her legs, and she opened for him. He pushed her legs farther apart. She resisted weakly. He forced himself between her legs, and started kissing her lips. She wouldn't open her mouth for him although he tried to force his tongue into her mouth. In an uncomfortable position, she had to put one leg on the arm of the sofa to accommodate him. Somehow he managed to get his cock out of his pants and into her pussy.

He was breathing heavily in her ear, but she could hear the manager talking to someone through the door. He was inside her, but she didn't feel much except his zipper. It was too late to do anything except let him fuck her.

"Pull you pants down, your zipper hurts."

Slowing down his strokes, he slipped his pants down just enough to get the zipper out of the way. He made no effort to please her. He just fucked for quite a while until he made a trembling moan and stopped. She assumed that he had come, but she felt nothing.

The barfly got off of her and pulled his pants up. He said nothing to her, but thanked the manager, and left.

She didn't feel so good. She pulled her legs back under her while the manager sat next to her. "That didn't do much for me, but I liked the way you sucked my cock, so I want you to do it again."

She was more than willing to let him get on her and use her pussy, but just sucking his cock was not much fun. Still, she got on her knees again between his legs. His cock was already out of his pants, and it was almost hard. She thought that once he got excited, perhaps he would want to be in her pussy.

She could feel the hard chamber slightly beneath his soft skin. His dick still tasted of his cum. Her mouth watered. His cock got slick and wet. She could feel his pelvis start to stroke, when she heard the door open. She tried to pull away, but strong hands held her head in his lap.

"Get ready," he told someone. She felt his cock soften a little then grow strong again as he fucked her face.

He removed one hand from her head and gestured to the other person who immediately began touching her ass and legs. She was sure it was a man by the size of his hands, and a workingman from the rough texture of his palms. He rubbed her back and reached under to feel her stomach, which she sucked in, and her breasts, which were hanging down between the manager's legs. Then the man she couldn't see slipped his finger into her crack and found her pussy very wet with her juices and the Barfly's cum. He gently stroked her clit—the first to make an effort to give her any pleasure. He pushed a big finger into her, then another. He stopped.

She concentrated on the cock in her mouth. She wanted the young manager to fuck her, but figured that the unseen man would fuck her first. She was resigned to being held in this position until the man with the muscles had come in her mouth again.

But it didn't work out that way. She could hear the man behind her undressing. She felt him positioning between her ankles. She raised her ass to receive him. She could feel his cock probing her slit and almost stopped her rhythmic work on the manager. The cock working its way into her pussy was large and hard as a pipe. Not so large that it hurt, but filling.

She gave up on thinking. She became a sex object for these men to use—her reason for being there--and they used her for what seemed a long time. At one point she thought the manager was going to cum, but he pulled her head off his cock, and the other man pulled out at the same time.

They pushed her back on the couch, and for the first time she could see the other man. It was the bartender. He was a really big man with a big belly, big arms, big legs, and a big cock. He was firm and very hairy, scary looking, but he treated her tenderly. He pulled her across the length of the sofa kissing her thighs. He licked her clit lightly causing her to shudder. He kissed her tummy and her tits. He kissed her neck and her mouth and as his cock slid back into her, she opened her mouth to allow his tongue to explore hers. She wondered if he could taste his boss's cum.

She raised one leg to the back of the sofa and the other around his back. His knees were on the floor, but this position on the small sofa was still uncomfortable with such a big man on top of her. She asked if they could move to the floor. He picked her up, with his cock still in her, and moved her to the carpet. He pulled her knees up high and took his weight off her so that he was on his hands and knees while his dick pushed deeply into her. She was free to grind her cunt against his hairy belly and felt an orgasm building inside. As she began to come her moans grew to a shrill cry.

When her orgasmic spasms began to subside, she felt the big man increase the speed of his strokes. "Come on her face," the manager said, and the bartender did as he was told. She opened her mouth for him but most of his thick juices splashed across her face and into her hair. What went into her mouth was very thick and tasted like bitter palm flowers.

He raised himself from her, leaving her on the floor exhausted with her legs spread and rivulets of cooling cum slowly running down her cheeks. He said nothing but dressed quickly and left the room.

After catching her breath she saw that the manager had undressed but was still holding the silver buckle of his leather belt. His body was big and chiseled. All his body hair had been removed. His muscles rippled in the glowing light. His cock was hard.

"Now you are going to get fucked the way your boyfriend wants."