N'awlins
Cherie and her best friend Candi had drove six hours from Texas into the Big Easy, ready for Mardi Gras. They had planned the trip with Cherie's husband Evan, but he had an emergency at work and couldn't go. After checking into the hotel, the two best friends went bar hopping one bar after another. New Orleans was busy, but always is, at Mardi Gras time. They were slamming back King's Cup shots and getting pretty wasted. Candi wore a tight little skirt with a halter top without a bra and panties while Cherie had some skintight pants and a sexy blouse showing a good deal of skin. The two would people watch and see a guy in the crowd or a server and guess how big his cock was.
"How about the guy in the cowboy hat? I'd say six inches." Cherie guessed.
"I'll give you the six, but he's only the size of a roll of nickels. That's not hitting my g-spot, he better be able to work it good," Candi quipped. "Besides, he's trying too hard to get in that poor girl's panties. Now give me the fella in the John Deere hat, he's hung like a mule."
Cherie looked at the good ole' country boy fresh from the farm, "Yeah, but do you think he could use it?"
"I'm thinking so, he's grinding on that hooker pretty well."
"How can you tell she's a hooker?"
"I overheard the bartender talking to John Deere and he wanted a date for the night. And I can tell by the bulge in his pants, it's huge."
Candi saw a big stud coming her way and figured she would have some fun and see how big he really was. "Hey Cherie watch this." When the stud got close, she spun his direction and opened her long legs wide exposing her soaking wet cunt to him. She caught his attention and pointed down to her aching quim. The guy looked at her and then down and back to her eyes giving her a disappointing look and walked on by.
"Ehh, he was probably gay anyway."
"Candi, don't be a bitch. Whether they are gay or bisexual or straight; nobody wants your nasty twat, don't force it on them. Anyways look over there, that brute of a guy saw you. Maybe you can go hit on him."
Candi looked at the guy in the corner and his gaze was locked on her. "I think I might just go talk to him." She jumped off the stool and nearly fell onto the floor. Cherie caught her and steadied her, smoothing down her skirt because she was showing the whole bar her plump ass.
"Do you think you can walk over there, or do you need help?"
"I got this. Let me go sister, I need a cock in my pussy."
"Good luck you sot. Give him the best you got."
It took Candi a full minute to walk thirty steps, a lot of people there you know. Of course, the eight King's Cups didn't help either. She got to the guys table, "Hello, is this seat taken?" The guy gestured for her to sit down.
Candi tried to strike up a conversation, but he didn't say much, just looked forward. She thought she would rub his legs with hers, but she bumped into something under the table. She pulled the tablecloth up and there was some barely legal girl sucking his cock and stroking his balls.
The brunette worked the big bald man's cock over good, twisting his nuts into a pretzel and then he slammed his hands on the table.
He tensed up and grasped at the cloth, delivering his load right down her throat. Candi sat there amazed at the hazel eyed girl who stared up at the King of Mardi Gras swallowing every drop. Then the girl looked up at her, "Twenty dollars and you cum like he did." Then she took a slug from a bottle of rot gut liquor and swished it in her mouth and spit it into another bottle.
"Thanks, but no, maybe another time."
"Then get your ass up grandma, you're taking up valuable real estate."
Candi looked to her left and right noticing a long line had formed waiting to be serviced. She politely excused herself wobbling back to Cherie. "You won't believe this, but there's a girl under that table--"
