0 comments/ 57533 views/ 2 favorites Last Call By: Larry Taylor I tend bar in an upper middle-class lounge in the best neighborhood in the city. I've been a bartender for ten years and have worked in several bars but this one is the nicest by far. Tending bar isn't rocket science but I enjoy it. The hours are long but the work isn't difficult and I meet some nice people. Several months ago I met some of the nicest people yet. May I tell you about it? Friday night is usually one of my best nights, but that particular night was slow because of the nasty weather. We had been hit by a string of vicious thunderstorms all day long and the gusting wind and torrential rain kept my bread-and-butter customers at home. Only a handful of customers had dropped in by ten o'clock and my tip bowl was looking mighty sick. The waitresses had called it quits long ago. The joint was empty and I was giving serious consideration to locking up and heading home to snuggle up against my pretty wife in my warm bed. I figured the boss would never know the difference. "A game of Hide the Salami will really hit the spot," I thought. I didn't want to get soaked and was just waiting for a lull in the rain to make my getaway. Then, in the blinking neon light from the sign, I spotted two people running toward the door huddled under a raincoat. They laughed the way people laugh when they are made the butt of a joke, brushed themselves off, and hurried to the bar. I figured they were either an attractive middle-aged married couple out to have some fun or a boss trying to lay his secretary. What a hell of a night they picked! As they ordered their drinks, I could tell by their slurred speech that my joint wasn't their first. They told me that they had been bar-hopping, looking for "some action". As I mixed their drinks, I fumed at being denied a few hours off. On the other hand, I soon discovered that my customers were good company. They asked me to join them in a drink, so I poured myself a shot of our best brandy. They were soggy, so I dug around under the bar until I found a couple of towels for them to dry their hair with. With combed hair and fresh makeup, the babe looked pretty good. She wasn't gorgeous, but she was the kind of woman that no normal man would kick out of bed. The guy wasn't bad himself, but I didn't pay much attention to him. I was much more interested in his wife's cleavage. We were all on friendly terms by the time we finished our drinks. They told me that they had come from The Swing, a notorious swinger club just down the road, and were very disappointed by the quality of the people they had found there. "Nothing but fat old ladies over there tonight," the man griped. "Yeah, and that bitch at the door wouldn't refund our money," the blond added. I had heard that The Swing charged couples fifty bucks admission, so could understand why they were pissed. I've never been there, but have heard stories about orgies. I would love to try it just once, but my wife isn't the swinging type. The way the blond leered at me made me uneasy. Both of them were staring at my crotch. My uniform pants are tight and the slightest arousal shows. When I complained to my boss about it, she said it was that way on purpose. "The barmaids show their tits and the bartenders show their packages," was how she put it. They ordered fresh drinks but I took a rain check when they invited me to join them. I had a feeling that something good was going to happen to me, and I wanted to be in peak form in case it did. They were getting sloppy drunk and I should have cut them off, but things were getting very interesting so I served them another round. They were talking about sex and the people they had fucked or wanted to fuck and were purposely talking loud enough for me to hear every word they said. Blondie was openly flirting with me and her husband seemed to be encouraging her. "I've noticed that you have very large hands," Blondie said. "I've heard that's a good indication of the size down below. You'll notice that my husband has small hands, and the rule certainly applies in his case." The husband laughed and interrupted her. He told her to stop beating around the bush and come right out with it. "I'll give you twenty bucks to show us your cock," he said, as he slapped a bill down on the bar. By then, I had the start of a pretty decent boner, and its outline showed through the pants. I've got a wife and two kids to feed and clothe and will take any twenty that comes along. "Sure, I'll show you my cock," I said, slipping the bill into my pocket. It wasn't likely that anyone would come in at that hour in those conditions, but I decided to play it safe. I locked the door and closed the blinds, then stood in front of them, unzipped my fly, and lowered my pants a little to get my cock and balls out. They stared at my ten-inch pussy-pleaser with wide eyes. Blondie's eyes were kind of glazed over and she licked her lips constantly, sure signs that she was in heat. Old Faithful was at half-mast with the foreskin still covering the flange of the head. "I'll give you another twenty to show it to us hard," the man said. If he was so determined to give me money, I figured I might just as well take it, and slipped another bill into my pocket. As I started masturbating, I was already planning ahead. I figured I might get another twenty for jerking off for them. Within a couple of minutes, I had my pussy-pleaser hard enough to drive nails with. "My God, you're hung like a mule," Blondie said. Their wide eyes were burning holes in my cock. I lifted it and pressed it against my belly to show off my nuts. "That's a nice set of balls, too," the man added. I continued playing with my dick, hoping he wouldn't make me ask for more money to shoot a load. When no offers were forthcoming, I decided that I would just have to do it for free, and jacked my cock harder. "Wait until I get back," the woman said as she headed for the Ladies' Room, staggering and bumping into chairs. "I'll pay you a hundred to fuck her, but only on the condition that she cums at least once and I get to watch," the man said. I guess that's what I had been hoping for all along, and jumped at the chance. A payment on my oldest girl's braces was due, and that hundred would cover it. "Sure, okay," I answered. "And, don't worry, you'll get your money's worth." We have a nice little bedroom in back where our very best customers can sleep it off for an hour or two, or even spend the night if they are too fucked up to drive. I took Blondie's hand and led them back to the room, my cock and balls hanging out. On the way, they introduced themselves as Becky and Dan. I told them to make themselves at home, then hurried back to the bar to fix them fresh drinks, turn on the neon "CLOSED" sign, and open the blinds. The last thing I wanted was for the cops to interrupt the party because they were suspicious of the closed blinds. When I got back, Becky was stretched out naked on the bed and Dan was sitting in a chair to the side. Becky was sexy enough to make my cock lurch upward when I got my first look at her! She had big, floppy tits, a slightly pudgy waist, a true-blond pussy, and long, sleek legs. Her short hair was dry by then and fluffed up. I took off my clothes and crawled between her legs where I sucked, licked and nibbled on her sweet, soft, blond pussy. She was quick on the trigger and came within a couple of minutes. "Oh, sweet Jesus, this guy knows how to eat pussy," Becky exclaimed as she clamped my head between her thighs. In my peripheral vision, I could see Dan stroking his cock. The broad grin on his face told me that he was enjoying the show. When her orgasm wound down, I crawled up her body and suckled on her creamy tits for awhile. Her big, brown nipples were the kind that make my mouth water. She grabbed my hair and pulled me up for a kiss. When I tried to work my dick into her honey-pot, I discovered that she had blocked it with her hand. "You'll need this," Dan said, holding up a foil packet. "Let him put it on you, baby," Becky whispered. "Why not?" I thought, as I walked over to him. Dan took my cock in his hand and stroked it up and down. "I can't see," Becky complained. I turned to the side so she could watch her husband masturbate me. I had never had my cock stroked by a man before, but it felt damn good, so I didn't say anything. "I'd better wet it so it will go in easier," he said. That sounded like he meant to wet it after the rubber was on, so got a shock when his hot mouth closed around the bare cockhead. He was giving me better head than I had ever had from a woman, including my wife, so I let him have his way. "This should be worth an extra twenty, don't you think?" I asked. "You've got it," he said. Then he took the biggest gulp yet and the head of my dick went down his throat. "Don't you dare make him cum, honey," wide-eyed Becky warned. I told him I might do just that if he didn't stop. He dried my dick on his shirt-tail then rolled the rubber on. It only covered the top half of my cock. He sucked it some more to wet it. "You're going to need help getting this thing in," Dan said. "I think you're going to like how tight she is." Dan lined my cock up with his wife's fuck-hole and told me to push. It took a forceful lunge to mate and then my prick was buried in one of the tightest pussies I had ever had. Dan had been right about that! She dug her fingers into my ass and told me to give it to her good. Dan stripped off his clothes and knelt at the foot of the bed. He asked me to spread my legs so he could see what was happening. "Oh, baby, you should see how beautiful your blond pussy is with that big fucker stuck in it." At first, I had to work to get my piston down Becky's cylinder, but she oiled up very nicely, and it got easier with each passing minute. I only had to fuck her for about five minutes to give her an orgasm. She tossed her head from side-to-side and howled like a wolf. It seemed fitting that a series of mighty thunderclaps accompanied her orgasm. I gave it to her for thirty minutes, and she came again every four or five minutes. "I told you you'd get your money's worth," I said to Dan. He answered with a wink. I kept working her legs up higher until, by the time I came, I had her ankles propped on my shoulders. As soon as I dismounted, Dan hurried to me to examine the load in the end of the rubber. He removed it very carefully so as not to spill any of my cream, then he knelt next to his wife, poured it onto his cock and masturbated with it until he shot his load all over her tits. We lay there panting for quite a long time. They didn't reach for their clothes, so I figured they wanted some more sex, and that was fine with me. I went out to the bar and fixed a round of fresh drinks. As they sipped their drinks, I asked Becky if I could fuck her again, on the house. "My pussy is too sore to take you on again," she said. "I'm not used to cocks as big as yours." I was disappointed until she offered an alternative. "Ever had a blowjob from a man and woman at the same time?" When I answered that I hadn't, she asked me if I wanted to try it. I remembered that she hadn't had my dick in her mouth yet, and wanted to see if she sucked as good as her husband did. I probably could have gotten a little more money out of them for the blowjob, but I had a hundred-sixty as it was, so decided to do it for free. Becky took Dan's half-hard cock in her mouth and sucked it until it was hard. When he was worked up, they motioned for me to join them on the bed then they got on each side of me and went to work. They passed my cock back and forth, taking five or six pulls on each turn. My head spun as two of the best cocksuckers in the city worked on me. They were so good that I couldn't decide which was the best. Becky sucked the head while Dan ran his tongue down my shaft and around my balls. Then they switched off. I don't know how I managed to last thirty minutes, because after the first fifteen it was a constant struggle to keep my load from shooting out. I finally shouted that I was cumming, and an instant later they were sharing the creamy lotion that spewed from my cock. When I was finished, Dan jumped to his knees, grabbed his wife's hair, shoved his cock into her mouth, and came instantly. As we dressed, Dan passed me an extra twenty bucks for giving his wife such a great fucking. They asked if I would be agreeable to them stopping by from time to time for more of the same. I said I would, but it has been three months and they haven't been back. I sure would love to get some more of Becky's fine blond pussy! I have been writing this story on a notepad here at the bar. It's a stormy night, just like that night three months ago. There isn't a single customer in the place and the waitresses punched out hours ago. Could tonight be the night? Last Call "Last call!" As she made the announcement to the few remaining customers in the bar that night, Michelle sighed to herself in relief. The day was almost over...and it had been a long one. She had been at work since seven that morning, only to have to come straight here afterwards. She dreamed of the day she would only have to work one job...but...as distasteful as bartending can be at times, it did help pay the bills. It helped even more when she wore her short skirt, low cut tanktop, and black high heels. They killed her feet, but her tips increased at least fifty percent every time she wore them. She made her way to one of the last tables. "Another one, or all you gents all done for tonight?" She forced a flirty smile at some out-of-towners who had been staring at her ass all night. "We will have one more round, sugar." The drunkest one ordered for the bunch with a sweeping motion across the table. She nodded and turned to make her way back to the bar when she felt a swat across the back of her ass. This wasn't the first time this had happened, but she still squeaked with surprise as the sting hit her. As much as she wanted to turn around and slap the offender's face, she made herself take a deep breath and keep walking. 'It's better not to give them a reaction,' she thought to herself. Sometimes, it's just not worth the fight. And...as much it killed her to admit it, she loved the warm feeling it left on her body. Her high heels clicked on the floor as she walked back over to their table with the last drinks of the night. "That will be $22.50." She tried to make her tone friendly, but it was difficult. Most of them were right at the brink of being too drunk to serve, and the last thing she needed was to get in trouble. She could feel their eyes on her as she leaned over the table, distributing the drinks. It did turn her on knowing that they found her attractive...but she wasn't about to let them know that. She felt a hand touch the back of her left thigh and start to make its way upwards when she stood and swatted it away. "That's enough!" "Here's a fifty...you just keep the change." The dark-haired one at the end of the table held the bill out for her. She hadn't noticed him before...he must be the quiet one of the bunch. She was grateful that it gave her a chance to move from where she was...hopefully away from another unwarranted groping. She went to take the bill from him, but he held it firmly in his grasp. She looked up at his handsome face, and was suddenly dumbfounded by how attractive he was. She heard herself gasp as she froze. There was something about him...something comforting and dangerous that the same time...something incredibly mesmerizing. "You can't really blame him, can you?" His mouth moved into a sly smile as his eyes raked up and down her body. "Those are some gorgeous legs." He pulled on the bill...thereby pulling her closer as he whispered, "Don't you worry...I'll make sure I get these hooligans out of here on time." Michelle felt heat rise into her cheeks as she suddenly realized she was leaning across the table, mere inches from his face. "Th-thank you, sir." She pulled the fifty dollar bill out of his hand and quickly turned away...halfway expecting another swat on her backside. One never came though...and she was a bit disappointed. She hid behind the bar for the next twenty minutes washing glasses and wiping off every imaginable surface. Finally, it was time to go pick up the drinks and tell them to vacate. She took a deep breath as she made her way back to them...keeping a close eye on the mysterious man on the end. He heard her coming and turned to watch her walk towards him. Michelle smiled as she felt her body react to his gaze...already knowing she would be fantasizing about him later when she was in bed. He smiled back and crooked an eyebrow at her as she arrived and put an arm on the back of his chair. "I have to have them, guys. It's time for me to close up." There were the normal moans and groans as she leaned over the table to pick up their glasses. Sure it would have been easier to walk around the table to get them...but this was much more fun, and she felt somewhat protected next to him. The rest of them men slowly gathered their things and shuffled towards the door as Michelle tossed the beer bottles in the trash. She felt him scoot his chair back next to her and figured she'd give the nice, mysterious stranger a good show before he left. Michelle grinned and bit her lip as she reached even further across the table...making her skirt ride up higher on her legs. Michelle smiled as she wiggled her backside just a tiny bit before she stood back up to find him standing directly behind her. His hand came around her waist as she jumped, startled at how close he was. "Very nice legs, my dear." His hand rubbed over her ribs and skimmed the underside of her breasts. Before she could stop herself, Michelle felt her body pressing back into him as she let out a little moan. His mouth nuzzled her neck as his hand reached down to settle on her hips...holding her still as he pressed himself into her. She forgot where she was in that moment. He felt so good...he smelled so good...and she loved how solid he was behind her. It had been so long since she had felt a man's hands on her. Oh sure, she had lovers...but nothing like him. He was all man...a true alpha...and she was having a lot of difficulty keeping up what little resistance she had left. "I've been watching you all night, little one." His voice was low and soft as one of his hands went higher...rubbing her chest...then moving upwards...cupping her right breast as his other hand pulled her hips harder back against him. He closed his hand around her breast and lightly pinched her nipple as she felt his teeth gently scraping her neck. She could feel his erection through his jeans and unconsciously began rubbing her ass against it. His breath was hot on her as his hand left her breast to run down her front...making its way underneath her skirt. It was shocking to her, yes, but Michelle was powerless to stop him...in fact she spread her legs apart just a little as his hand cupped her throbbing pussy over her panties. He pressed his hand against her, forcing a shuddering breath out of her as she pressed back harder against him. She felt his chest rumble as he softly growled into the side of her neck. "I'll be back to deal with you, shortly." With that, he turned and left here there. Michelle was a bit startled to say the least as she suddenly crashed back down to earth. It took her a couple seconds and a few deep breaths before she got her bearing back. She turned to the door only to see it closed. She shook her head...trying to clear the cobwebs as she sat down. What the hell did she just do? She had never acted like that before! A complete stranger? Granted, she wore tight, skimpy clothes, but she had never let someone touch her like that at work before. The pulsing ache between her legs got worse as she replayed it in her mind...she could almost still feel every spot he had touched her...and she had to admit...she wouldn't have been able to stop had he not left. Michelle shook her head and stood back up...finishing up clearing the table. She went into the back room, counted her drawer and tips, then locked it up. She set her purse and bag on the bar as she walked across the room to turn off the neon lights in the back. She turned off the jukebox, blanketing the bar in silence. Once she hit the switch, the only light left was the one above the pool table. Her heels were noisy as she crossed the dance floor towards it. She slowed when she thought she heard another set of footsteps, but soon shook the feeling off. It had only been a few minutes since the handsome stranger had left...and even if he DID plan on coming back, she wasn't going to wait for hours. She reached up to pull the drawstring on the light above the pool table...and groaned in frustration when she couldn't reach it. "C'mon....c'mon dammit!" The unresolved sexual energy in her was making her snippy as she went on her toes and strained to reach the elusive chain. "Want me to get that?" Michelle screamed and turned towards the deep voice. "Who's there!?" "Relax, hot stuff...it's just me." His footsteps came closer, but he was still in the dark. She recognized her mystery man's voice and felt a jolt of excitement race through her body. As he drew nearer, she strained to get a good look at him. "I...I didn't know you were still here." He chuckled as he walked slowly closer to her. "I slipped back in before you turned the music off...you must not have heard the door." His footsteps stopped before he came into the light. "I told you I'd be back." Michelle scoffed as she leaned back against the pool table...crossing her arms. "You didn't believe me?" She tilted her head in his direction. "No, I didn't." He made a "tsk" sound as he stepped into the light. "You should always believe me." Michelle smiled and let out a little giggle. "My apologies, sir...I have just learned not to trust the promises made by my customers." He was still slowly walking towards her. "I don't blame you, dear...then again...I'm not one of your normal customers am I?" He was close to her now...he stopped just a few inches from her. Michelle's brain was becoming all fuddled again. "No...no...you most certainly are not." His hands went to her waist as he began slowly pulling her up to him. She closed her eyes and tried to maintain some type of rational thought as his eyes and voice started working their magic on her again. "I wanted to apologize for before...I don't normally act like that." His voice was right next to her ear "No apologies, little one. I knew from the second I walked in here tonight that I had to have you." He lifted her up and sat her on the pool table...inserting himself between her legs. Her head was swimming and she began to breathe heavily as his hands ran up and down her legs...spreading them further apart. His mouth found hers as he kissed her hard...claiming her with his lips and tongue as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders...hanging on to him as he plundered her mouth. Without breaking the kiss, she felt him untuck her tank-top from her skirt. She moaned in his mouth as she felt his hands on her bare skin...running across her belly and back. He pulled his mouth from her just long enough to pull the shirt over her head and throw it to the floor. Michelle's hands found the buttons on his and began pulling them apart...craving to feel his chest against her. Finally she pulled it apart and ran her hands back around his lower back...pulling him closer. He groaned as he broke their kiss. "You're an impatient little one aren't you?" She grinned and bit her lip shyly. "I guess I am." "Hmmmmm....seems like someone needs to teach you some manners, then huh?" He kissed her hard again before he stepped back...lifted her back down to the ground and spun her around. Her back was to him now and he pressed against her so she was bent over the table...her arms supporting her. Suddenly he had a gentle but firm grasp on her long dark hair as his voice was in her ear. "Is this what you want, little girl?" He rubbed his impressive cock against her ass through his jeans. "You want to feel this cock taking you...owning you...reminding you that you are a woman?" Although she was shocked...and a little bit afraid...Michelle had never been more turned on in her life. "Yes...it is." He wrenched her head up. "Yes, what?" He pressed his cock harder against her as his other hand went beneath her, between her legs and started rubbing her incredibly wet pussy over her panties. Michelle groaned in pure lust. "Yes, Sir." She began moving her ass back against him...trying to get closer...loving how damn good his hand felt. "Good girl." He leaned back and unhooked her bra...letting it drop down across her shoulders and arms and he ran his hand up her back. His other hand found its way around her soaked panties and finally touched the flesh of her pussy. Michelle moaned and bucked her hips back against him as he inserted one finger in her wet hole and began fucking her with it as deep as he could. "Mmmmmm...you like that don't you? Little fucking whore...you like being taken like this don't you?" "Yessssss, Sir...." Was all she could manage to get out before he switched hands...putting the very finger that had just been giving her such pleasure into her mouth as one from the other hand took its place and began fucking her just as good and hard. She sucked hard on his finger...tasting herself on it...imagining it was his cock. She could hear him groan as he gently bit her right shoulder. He gave her another ten pumps with his finger before pulling it out and pushing her skirt up around her waist. He stood her up and turned her around to face him. Their mouths met in another deep kiss as he grabbed the waistband of her underwear and ripped them from her body. She yelped at the sting of it, but quickly forgot all about it when he picked her up and sat her on the table again. His shirt joined the pile of discarded clothing on the floor as his hand went around the back of her neck, bringing his mouth forcefully to hers once again. Michelle ran her hands all over him...up and down his strong back...across his shoulders...wanting him to be closer. They were already skin to skin, but she still wanted him closer. Her hands went to his waist and began fiddling with the button to his jeans. He moaned into her mouth as she got them undone and pulled his zipper down. Before she could touch what she was seeking, he stepped back...keeping it just out of her reach. "Not yet, my little slut." She whimpered her disappointment at him, but he was undeterred. "You have to ask me for it...nicely...maybe even beg." The smile on his face was remarkable as he laid her back across the table again...running his face up from her pussy across her stomach...till he finally reached her breasts. Michelle arched her back up and one hand went to the back of his head, tangling in his hair as his mouth closed over one very hard nipple. She moaned even more for him as his tongue began flicking the tight bud back and forth. She threw her head back and surrendered herself to the complete pleasure he was giving her as she felt his other hand running up and down her wet slit once again. She moved her hips up to him...begging him to enter her. He moaned against her tit...sending deep vibrations up her body as his fingers finally entered her. He began rubbing her clit with his thumb as he fucked her with two fingers...gradually increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts. Michelle could feel her orgasm building already as she moved her hips to meet his thrusts. His weight on top of her kept her body mostly still but her head began thrashing back and forth as she felt herself nearing her peak. He held her nipple expertly between his teeth and he used the tip of his tongue to tease her some more. Michelle was teetering on the edge, but she couldn't quite get all the way there though...and without thinking began to beg him. "Please...please Sir...please let me cum for you...please!" He raised his mouth from her nipple and smiled. "Good girl." He began moving his fingers deeper and harder inside her. "You can cum, baby. Cum hard for me." His mouth latched back onto her tit as his thumb pressed her clit hard while his fingers found the special spot inside her. He felt her body begin to shake and increased his pressure even more...wanting her to remember this orgasm for a long time. Bells went off in Michelle's head as her body climbed to the top of her pleasure...she felt like her body was going to explode in pure ecstasy when she finally got there. Her body thrashing around...screaming for more...begging him not to stop. He held on tight to her, making sure she didn't thrash herself right off the table as she came for him. He slowed his motions gradually...not wanting to bring her down too quickly. Finally her body began to relax and her eyes opened. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. He grinned and began kissing her neck while running his hand up and down her side. "You are....you are amazing." Her voice was shaky as she felt herself already wanting more of him. "You haven't seen anything yet, beautiful." His tongue left a trail down the front of her body as he eventually stood between her legs. She still laid on the pool table...her legs beneath her knees dangling...keeping her ass right on the edge. He took a step back and took the rest of his clothes off. She came up to rest on her elbows as she admired him. "You like what you see, girl?" Michelle grinned and nodded. "Oh yes, Sir. I most certainly do." "Then take your skirt off." Michelle sat up and hopped down from the table...sliding her skirt down her legs. She stepped out of it...and suddenly felt very, very naked. "My shoes too?" "No." His answer was quick. "Leave your heels on. I want to fuck you in your heels, little one." He began stroking his massive cock as he looked her up and down. "You sure have the body of a fuck-toy, you know that?" She smiled shyly and took it as a complete compliment. "I'm very glad you like it, Sir." "Have you ever been taken like this before? By someone who wants to treat you like their personal plaything?" His voice was getting deeper as he stepped closer to her. "No, Sir." Her voice shook as she resisted the urge to kiss his deliciously pouty mouth. "You are a natural, kid." He must have read her mind as he bent and took her mouth with his once again. "Do you want this cock, slut?" She nodded fervently. "Do you want my cock baby?" Before she could answer he took her mouth again...his tongue plowing into her, kissing her completely. "I do...I do want it, Sir." When she could come up for air, she tried to answer him correctly. "I need it, Sir. Can...can I please...please please have it?" He smiled before he took her mouth once again. Then, he took her hand and placed it on his cock...keeping the same stroking motion that he had. Her other hand went around him...grabbing his firm ass and pulling him close. "You were born to be like this, you know..." His voice was rough and gravelly as he kissed her hard. "You were made to be submissive." "Yes, Sir..." was all she could think to say as she gently tightened her grip on his member. His deep moans spurred her on as she quickened her pace. She felt a pressure on her shoulder and somehow knew that she should get on her knees. Once there, she looked up at him. "Can I suck your cock, Sir?" "Yes, my slut..." His eyes were like pools of molten lava as he watched her tongue reach out to taste his cock for the first time. He had a hard time stopping himself from thrusting it down her throat once she took him in her mouth. His cock was so thick and hard that she struggled to get more than half of it across her tongue...but feeling her moans and sucking on the head was enough to make him throw his head back in pleasure. His hips began to rock in motion with the bobbing of her head. "That's it...oooh...that's it, baby." His hands found her hair and held her head still as he slowly moved his rod in and out of her hot little mouth. Michelle sucked even harder...learning quickly when to take gulps of air while trying to take him as deep as she could. She could taste the precum from his tip already. Suddenly he stopped and pulled her to her feet up against his body...his cock pressed between them. "You want me to fuck you, beautiful?" "Please....please fuck me, Sir!" She didn't think twice about begging him for it. "Bend over the table then...stick out your hot little ass for me." Michelle did as she was told...propped her elbows on the table and bent over in front of him. He stepped up behind her...placing one hand on her hip and his other guided his hard stick up and down her slick slit. He found her clit with the head of it and rubbed it back and forth...loving the mewing sounds she made. "Please...please, Sir." Michelle's body was aching to feel his meat inside her. Last Call "What do you want, little one? You want me to fuck your little pussy?" His cock was glistening with her juices as he asked her what he already knew. "Your pussy is so wet, baby." Michelle moaned and nodded. "Have you been wet for me all night, girl?" She nodded again. "Hmmmmmmm....I've been waiting to feel this pussy all night." She didn't know how much more she could stand. "Please!" She whimpered in pure need as she looked back at him over her shoulder. "Please put your cock in me, Sir. I need it! I need it so bad! I've been aching for it ever since I saw you." He grinned as he pointed the head of his cock at her opening...and held it there. Slowly...he moved both his hands to her hips and drew her back against him while he trust forward...filling her completely. She felt every single millimeter of his perfect cock entering her. She couldn't talk...could only make incoherent noises and his cock claimed her pussy as its own. They both moaned in pleasure as he filled her to the hilt. He had to make himself wait before he began pumping in about out of her tight, wet hole. She was so tight...so tight and wet and warm around him that he felt himself clenching his teeth and making a conscious effort to control himself. "Fuck yessssss...." Through gritted teeth he let her know of his pleasure as he began moving her hips back and forth. Michelle squeaked beneath him as her pussy tightened around him. He grabbed her by her hair again, slowly pulling her head up. "It this what you wanted, girl? You like this big cock inside you?" "Yes!" She screamed. "I love it....fuck I love it. Please d-d-don't stop!" He grinned as he released her hair and reached underneath her to find her breasts. His thrusts became harder and deeper as he felt her contract around him. He pinched her nipples every time he plunged into her...loving how it made her squeeze him even tighter. "In your fucking heels, even. Fuck you're so hot! This is my pussy now, baby. You hear me? I own it now, girl." His voice was getting even rougher as he could feel his own orgasm building. "Yes!" Her voice was getting hoarse as well. "It's all yours, baby..oh Godddd my pussy is all for you." She was clawing at the green felt of the pool table...trying to process the intensity of it all. "Mmmmmmm...that's right." He stood back up and grabbed her hips again...pounding her. She could hear their bodies slapping together and loved hearing him grunt every time he filled her. Before long she felt the tingling again. "Ohhh Sir...please...please can I cum for you again?" She bit her lip...trying to find any type of control... "Cum...cum all over my cock, baby." He pounded her harder...grabbed her hair with one hand and began pinching her tit with the other...impaling her on his massive cock until he began to feel her shake. She screamed and moaned as her orgasm took her over but he didn't stop fucking her...he didn't miss one stroke. Time after time, Michelle came all over his cock inside her. Just when she thought one was over, another would start. He kept hitting her spot so perfectly she was scared she would pass out. He was pinching her nipple in the rhythm...and the combination of pleasure and pain was the perfect storm for her. "Yesss...yesyesyesyes...ohhh god YES!!" She screamed for more as his cock began to twitch inside of her. "Please d-don't stop! Please don't ever stop fucking me, S-Sir!!" But he did. He stopped right then and took his throbbing, hard cock out of her sopping wet pussy. In one movement, he turned her over and laid her back on the table. He stood between her legs...holding one in each hand. His cock found her cunt again as he held her thighs to his chest...seeing her high heels out of the corners of his eyes. "Such a hot little piece of ass you are..." He knew he wouldn't last long like this...her pussy was still convulsing around him and it was getting to be impossible for him to deny his orgasm any longer. "Yesssss....fuck me, handsome. Please...please fuck me!" Michelle watched his handsome face as he pounded her even harder. "Pinch your tits for me, slut." He growled his order at her as he dropped her legs to his sides and crawled further on top of her. She did as she was told and began massaging her tits while pinching her hard nipples for him. His mouth found one of them and he began sucking hard on it...making her arch up to it. She could feel his teeth biting into it ever so slightly and let out a cry that seemed to touch off a firestorm in him. He slammed his cock into her three more times...each stroke harder than the last one...moving her whole body across the table each time...then finally erupting inside her. Michelle felt him cumming and did her best to milk every drop out of him. She squeezed his ass in her hands and pressed him closer into her. His body was shaking as he continued to pump slowly in and out of her...still completely filling her each time. She moaned for him...he moaned for her. Then...finally...he collapsed on her in an exhausted, sweaty heap. After a couple minutes, he raised himself up...getting his weight off of her. He gently kissed her mouth as she finally opened her eyes. She smiled...and inexplicably began giggling when he smiled back. "What's so funny?" "I don't know...I just can't remember the last time I felt this good." She gently ran a finger across his strong jawline. "Thank you so much, Sir." He grinned as he kissed her again. "Hmmmmm...you are welcome, little one." Eventually they both got up, and as they were dressing, the inevitable awkwardness set in. "I...I don't know what else to say besides....thank you again." Michelle was blushing, and she knew it. He chuckled as he buttoned his pants. "How about...same time, same place next week?" The smile was instantly on her face. "I would love that, Sir." Last Call Ely had taken her as his lover four years ago for all the wrong reasons, the most important of which, was to spite another woman who had 'done him wrong;' and for that she was not a bad choice. Leah was funny and always made him laugh which offset the times she was whiny, small minded, and jealous. She was conveniently located not too close and not too far from his condo which made for a relatively easy escape from his other problems. On top of this, he was a Dom and she, submissive. So when he tied her up and beat her he could exorcise his demons and frustrations in a way that made her happy and him feel none the worse for using her. At that time, she was a good emotional refuge, and he had grown genuinely fond of Leah. At 6'2" he was a redwood of a man, and, because of their similar coloring, they were sometimes mistaken for brother and sister. She was a whole lot of woman with long, thick, red hair, bright green eyes, and, at 5'10", built like the proverbial brick shit house. A further perk of their relationship was that she had storage space which he had filled with more things than he remembered from the break-up. But a relationship based on revenge has a short shelf life, and this one was no different. In all fairness to her and to himself as ultimately decent people, he needed to let her go. To that end, he had not visited with her for over a year during which he encouraged her to find a new Dom who was also capable of loving her the way she should be loved. It was a task Leah took to heart because she knew it was true. She deserved a man that loved her and her alone, and so when Ely announced he would be visiting to take his "junk" out of her house, she announced, "Come ahead; however, you will be sleeping on the couch, or on top of the portable hot tub you stored in the cellar, if you think it would be more comfortable, and not in my bed. My new Dom now lives with me, and you and I sleeping together just won't fly." A widening smile crept across his face at the news as he said he understood. "That's what you think," he snickered to himself. "Not for more than one night, will I sleep alone. You can bet your bottom dollar on that sweet cheeks." When they first met Leah was a submissive female, but not in the way one in the life style would define. However, he had made her one; and not only that, he had made her a painslut. And although he had no desire to take up where they had left off, he felt the new Dom kind of owed him. After all, he had laid all the ground work, and the new Dom was enjoying the fruits of his labor. He wondered what new experiences her new Dom had brought to her. He knew a new Dom would have his own ways. He wondered if she thought the new Dom was a better Dom? But these were fleeting thoughts. His ego could remain intact. He knew, if nothing else, he had laid a good foundation. It was sound, and she had become a good little girl. There would be treasured memories of their sessions for a lifetime and, though they had both moved on, it could not be otherwise. So confident in himself on all fronts, he set out to arrive at her modest Cape in its well maintained subdivision before noon. He pulled up in front of the house. The lawn was mowed, the shrubbery was trimmed, and everything was well maintained which pleased him. A not too new Goldwing graced the driveway in front of the two cars in the driveway which brought a broad smile to his face. He liked to think she had a man around the house that would help her take care of things. He hoped, too, when the new Dom rode with her up behind that he took the same care he had, having fun tempered with consideration for her safety. It was only right. He met the new Dom, Cal, who was just heading out to work. He liked the way the man shook hands and, in the few brief moments they exchanged pleasantries, he felt the man was someone he might respect. At the very least the man, like himself, was a Winger, and that would be a place to start. He watched Cal walk to his car, estimating him to be about the same height only a bit heavier set with dark brown hair and eyes. He was well groomed and had a confident and likeable demeanor. Leah would be leaving for work later. Ely had timed it so he would be there at just the right interval. The next day was everybody's day off, and they would help him load the trailer. Cal, having left for work, she helped Ely settle in. They ate lunch together, and, over their grilled cheese and salami sandwiches, they reminisced a bit; but, mainly, he shared his plan to haul as much stuff out of her basement as he could in the next two days. "Will you be sleeping on the couch or on the hot tub cover?" "How much crap is on the cover? Never mind, I know. Couch. Thanks." "Suit yourself. But you may have to fight the dog for it." "Easier than fighting the python for the cover. Got my own snake to mind," he quipped. They both laughed, but it was not the easy laughter of times past. There was tenseness now. Things were different. She had a new Master and a new bond, and she hoped Ely's presence in the house would not upset the new balance. Power exchanges can be tricky that way. If there is any sort of insecurity or jealousy, power struggles can ensue with disastrous results. Ely kissed Leah sweetly on the forehead as she went off to work and awaited the arrival of Cal who would be home in the next hour and a half. Because you never know how territorial another man might be until you step into his territory, Ely was careful to show respect to Cal. Ely was not the Dom in this household any more, but neither was he an inferior. Long story short, Cal was a confident man in his own right and Ely, confident in himself as well, did nothing to challenge Cal. Conversation, as Ely expected, came easily between them as over a couple of Miller Lites they discussed the ins-and-outs of Goldwing maintenance and riding adventures they'd never forget. As conversation ebbed and flowed, Ely and Cal found they shared many of the same interests and frustrations with life in general and in specific; and in their commiseration tensions that could have arisen between two dominant males just didn't. Ely told Cal how glad he was that he was Leah's Dom. He cited Cal's obvious care and how Leah seemed happy and well-cared for. The men had studiously avoided the topic of Leah, but Cal being satisfied with the measure of Ely began, "Know what would make Leah even happier today?" "What?" "What would you think if the three of us had a session together tonight?" Ely did not answer right away. It was a generous offer. The two of them working out their frustrations with one woman, there would have to be control. Was Cal that kind of Dom? He had not seen one-upmanship in Cal so perhaps. "I think before I say yes or no, Cal, we should talk over our approach. The two of us out of control could be bad. Leah is a painslut, but we could really hurt her and ruin her by pushing her too far. Can we handle it? Likely, you know more about my approach from Leah than I know about yours. Shall we talk it over and see?" "I think we should to be sure we are on the same page, Ely. Let's talk particulars." Coming up with a plan they set about setting the stage..When Leah got home, they would relax her, and all of them would get what they needed. Leah steamed up the front steps. She had had a bitch of a day and she wanted to get in, vent, relax with the guys a bit, and hit the sack. She was sure glad she had tomorrow off. But, pushing open the front door, she was greeted by candlelight and two Doms whose intent was clear. Ely was clad in his black leather vest, pants, boots, and do-rag and Cal in his black shirt, dress pants, and oxfords. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. They ushered her into the living room. Ely took her bag and Cal handed her a shot of Irish saying, "No words, Leah. Drink!" Her mind raced and her mouth dropped open to speak, but she knew better. "The two of them. The two of them," she thought, "OMG. The two of them." She threw back the shot and, tentatively, handed the empty glass to Ely. "Strip and assume the position, Leah," ordered Cal in his usual commanding but subdued voice. The two Doms stood, arms folded and standing side by side, watching calmly and dispassionately as she self-consciously stripped to the skin and knelt before them. Hands behind her back, she put her head back, opened her mouth, and looked up at Cal. Ely handed Cal her collar which he fastened around her neck. She looked directly at Cal wondering if she would be woman enough for a power exchange with two men. She knew them both intimately. Neither had ever challenged her beyond bearable limits, but she also knew their egos. She trembled a bit, as if cold, and felt her wetness ooze down her thighs. "Ely, snap the leash on her so we can take her to the cellar. Crawl, Leah." Cal led the way to the basement. Ely, controlling her, she crawled on hands and knees across the floor and then backwards down the cellar stairs. Cal watched her ass from below. "You slut! You're already soaking wet! She wants this, Ely. She wants us. Careful what you wish for, little girl." The men had been busy. Since Ely had loaded his belongings on his trailer, there was room for a playroom. And the dungeon toys, they had used in the garage in the summer or had to rearrange furniture to use in the dining room, now had a new permanent home. From her position on all fours, she looked around. The cement floor was cold and the cross and the pillory were stark in the dingy light shed by the single light bulb that hung by a wire from the ceiling. A spreader bar, cuffs, ropes, floggers of all sorts, crops, canes, paddles vibrators, hot wax, butt plugs, nipple clamps, speculum, all the toys-- all the toys were neatly hung on the wall, organized for a Dom's handy access per his will and whim of the moment. Ely blindfolded Leah and cuffed her, spread eagle, face down, on the cross. Leah wondered what their 'will and whim' would be tonight. How far would they go? Subspace, can be the most wonderful experience or it can be terrifying. Leah had always had wonderful experiences in subspace with Cal and Ely, but she had heard stories from other submissives with other Masters where things had gotten out of control and gone terribly wrong. She knew that sometimes in subspace she couldn't speak or move at all so there would be no way for her to protect herself. It would be up Cal and Ely to be aware of it and protect her. She began to have doubts. Ely sensed Leah's mounting tenseness. He knew that Leah's complete trust in them was essential so he pressed his body close to her, stroked her cheek, and spoke to her softly with firmness and reassurance as he secured her to the cross.. "You know, Leah, Cal and I are going to hurt you. We are going to beat you and take pleasure in doing so. You are our painslut, and we are going to leave the mark of our work tonight, on your body. But you will be a good and obedient little girl, and we know this because it is your deepest desire and your greatest reward to serve your Masters here tonight. You will please us by thanking us for the pain and begging for mercy and more. You are our possession, little girl, to do with as we need to gratify our most base needs. We will push your limits in pain. You will submit your body unto us, woman to man, as God meant it to be. And it will end as always with you gratefully in our care. Understand?" Leah nodded her ascent while offering a meek, "Yes, Sir." Her long hair was tied up in braids so that the porcelain skin of her fleshy backside, softly dappled with the ginger freckles of a natural red-head, would remain fully exposed. They began using their softest deerskin floggers which are very supple, and sensual. This type of flogger has a great pop but little sting, just perfect for setting up a steady rhythm. One then the other, Cal then Ely, they alternated stroke for stroke, shoulder to mid-back, left then right. Leah, her juices gushing down her thighs, closed her eyes and tried to relax. Because this was Cal's domain, Ely would follow his lead, matching implement for implement, and intensity with intensity, and given the opportunity at times, lead the interplay. In sequence and in turn, Cal then Ely reached for a flat braided cat. Never missing a beat, a stroke of the cat followed by a swipe of the hand over the skin would "pink" the skin. Her skin glowed with the heat. Their palms dampening the sting, they felt her skin begin to heat up each time the cat struck, and Leah floated into her subspace. Gradually increasing the force of each stroke, Cal and Ely moved to the next level of intensity. The stroke of the cat now without the hand began to make stripes and a beautiful crisscross pattern emerged on the pale skin. With each deliberate strike Cal and Ely took control. They, in concert, meted out the punishment. In this realm it was theirs to say and to do as they wished. To have dominion over all, they themselves and the one who had granted them power, Leah. In a world where feeling of powerlessness is all too common, here they ruled. And Leah, who wanted to do nothing more than to not be in charge of anything, gave up her will to serve her Masters. Releasing control, she shut out the rest of the world, bending her will to theirs. The stripes beautifully laid on her back, they reached for canes. Her lily white ass and thighs mixed with a touch of juicy pussy were next. But before they began, Ely reached for the ben-wa balls. Holding them up for Cal's approval and, receiving the go-ahead, Ely inserted the balls in Leah's cunt. "You know what to do now Leah, don't you?" Cal directed. "You keep them inside and do not let them out until you are told to push them out. Yes? "Yes, Master," came the whispered reply. The canes raised beautiful welts on the pristine ass and on the backs of her flawless thighs. The men wielded the wands slowly and carefully. Each crack of the cane and each raised welt were savored. Marked on her skin, raised and enflamed, each welt would rise. The beauty of pleasure and pain meted out fairly with justice and control brought with it power and pride. Leah, struggling to retain the ben-wa balls by doing kegles, arched her back and groaned softly with each strike. Leah loved the ben-wa. Nestled up behind her pubic bone, they rubbed her G-spot and the harder she clenched and released the greater the stimulation and pleasing the sensation. But it did not come without a cost; for as she tightened her cunt, she also tightened the muscles of her butt cheeks, making the cut of the cane more intense, therefore the more pleasure, the more pain and she moaned. Satisfied the fine quality of their skin art, Cal and Ely decide it is time to flip her over, so that she can be face up on the cross. Cal did the honors. He need only unbuckle her legs. Her wrists could stay fastened, leaving her arms crossed above her head. He liked this because it left her breasts proud and he did love her tits. In fact, both men did. Those breasts were next. Cal and Ely each grabbed a tit roughly squeezing and kneading it. Twisting and pulling out her nipples they enjoyed watching her squirm and listening to her mewl. "Squeeze them out into the bucket, Leah," Cal commanded. Leah gave birth to the ben-wa. They dropped into a metal bucket that had been placed between her legs. "Good, little girl. Now you are going to pee for me. I want a nice steady stream. You will squirt it out. You will not let it dribble down your legs. You hear me?" "Yes, Master Cal." The sound of Leah's pee echoed coldly in the metal bucket. The cement floor and walls of the cellar did nothing to dampen the crude sound. When she had finished, Cal patted her pussy, and slipping his fingers over her clit he inserted three fingers into her cunt. "We are good to you, aren't we, Leah." "Yes, Master Cal. You and Sir Ely are both good to me. Thank you." Next Cal and Ely would tie up her tits. This was Ely's specialty. He used manila line. Its texture was rough, and it grabbed Leah's tits and did not slip. He took his time, and Cal watched and learned. He wanted to be able to do it after Ely left. The tits beautifully bound, nipple clips were next. Leah had wonderful meaty nipples that drew out good and strong providing lots of flesh for the clips to grab. Like a set of vice grips, the clips were adjustable. Ely secured them firmly and gave them a tug to make certain they would hold. Leah's silent grimace and deep breaths told him they were set just right. He smiled knowingly at Cal and gave a brief stroke to her hair. The men then resumed their motif, establishing the tempo of the beating. Starting with the deerskin flogger, they rhythmically stroked her breasts and then between her legs on her sweet fuzzy red pussy and Leah retreated back into her 'subby' space. She was barely aware of the sound of the vibrator when it was plugged in. Ely looked at it admiringly. It was a good tool. They would inflict pain, and she would receive pleasure. The more pain she received, the more pleasure she would receive, and Cal and Ely held the balance tin their hands. The men took careful note of Leah's breathing, facial expressions, the redness and heat of her skin, vocalizations, if any, and the state of her body in the restraints. If they did it right, she would be silent and still when they beat her and moaning in gratitude when the vibrator buzzed on her clit. They would torment her in the most exquisite and beautiful way, and she would beg for more. As before, the cat o' nine tails was next in the sequence. Ely and Cal, upon each laying a pattern of zebra stripes, rewarded Leah with the vibrator until she began to moan. Now they would take turns applying the cane. While Ely caned Leah, Cal rewarded Leah with the vibrator. When Cal caned Leah, Ely rewarded Leah. This they did in turns until Leah begged to cum. This was when control was most important. This was when they wanted to push Leah's limits, but let her succeed. The task was to bring her to the edge and, when she begged to cum, deny cumming while not cumming was still an option for Leah. There might be a time when a Master wanted a sub to fail as a lesson in discipline forcing her to cum s he denied her, but not tonight. This meant they must carefully watch and listen to and judge her pleas. Each of them was able to bring Leah up twice they knew she needed to cum, and she was beautiful in her orgasm and so very grateful in thanking them. But this was not the end. Leah was in a very vulnerable place, and Cal and Ely still had to bring Leah back from her submission. The nipple clips were first. Applying nipple clips has minor pain, but removal is extremely painful. In classic style each man removed a clip and then immediately covered and sucked a nipple to help soothe each one. When that was accomplished, Leah's breasts were untied. After that, she was unshackled from the cross and helped down to her knees as Cal's gentle command came, "Assume the position Leah." Obediently, Leah assumed the position, hands behind her, head back, and mouth open. The two men, both hard, begin to jack their cocks. In her final act of humility, the men ejaculate in her mouth; and, upon command, Leah swallows their spunk. Immediately after, they take Leah to the bedroom where the men can cover her with their bodies. It is necessary for them to physically hold her. Not only is this psychologically necessary for the sanity of the sub, it also creates and strengthens the bond between Master and Submissive. Cal and Ely hold her close, and in a tradition they have individually always shared with Leah in the past, each man gives her a love bite. Last Call The next morning, Leah, in the nude except for an apron, happily prepares breakfast. Long red hair flowing, reminders of the session last evening are still visible on her porcelain white skin. Ely is packed up and the double axel is loaded and ready to go. He thanks Leah for her generosity, helping him move and storing his stuff when he needed help. Ely knows this is his last call here. He will never return, but that is okay. All is well. Leah is well cared for by her new Dom, and Ely will move on down the road to where life next leads, adding one more bittersweet memory to his broken heart. Last Call Two vodka-tonics and a scotch and soda. Finally some adult drinks. Maybe I'll make more than a quarter tip on this round. How many stupid sodas and juices can you pour in one shift? C'mon folks, you're on vacation here, live a little. All these first-timers are taking seats away from our regulars. A few more days, and our seasonal nightmare will be over for another year. My name is Rick. I work in a run-down hotel bar in a small rural community in the South Eastern corner of Pennsylvania. We are nestled in the Allegheny Plateau, just over the Appalachians. On an average summer night, the place gets forty to fifty reservations. Mostly tourists visiting Amish country or Gettysburg. The bar gets a regular happy-hour crowd of salesmen and truckers. In the evenings we have Karaoke or "oldies" sing-alongs. There is no actual "young crowd." But we have enough dart teams and pool shooters to keep us serving until midnight on most days. No need for bouncers and no reason to card anyone. Then comes August. Every year thirty-thousand people from all over the world descend on our quaint little farm town to watch kids play baseball. In the old days the circus rolled into town with elephants and a calliope. Now it's satellite trucks and video games. Trailer-parks spring up from the earth where the corn was just harvested. Hot-dog carts and ice-ball vendors appear on every corner. Mobile arcades, paint-ball venues and water-slides blossom overnight. Twelve-year olds from twenty countries get their first taste of American excess. And they are all in bed by eight thirty. Then the bar fills with lonely moms, often on their first trip to the States. And the hucksters have something to sell them, too. There are phony Chanel bags and knock-off Rolexes, Gucci and Lauren. And for the adventurous moms, there is always a troupe of second-rate Chippendales who can communicate in the Universal Language. Our hotel caters to the bargain hunters. The room-rates only double at this time of year. At about nine o'clock, the moms drift down in pairs or groups and grab tables in the back. Those who speak English do the ordering and they all congregate around the jukebox. They brag and worry over their sons and then bad-mouth the husbands they left behind. Most of the visiting guys are father/coaches, chaperones, or officials from the four-letter cable station that televises the tournament. These guys manage to find the same entertainment that's available in any town around the world. So the ladies are on their own. Tonight, the dull and dreary was just settling in and I was preparing to break down my section and close the bar. At least, I thought, I'll be able to catch the sports on t.v., change clothes and still find a place to get myself a cocktail. "Is this the best it gets," I heard her say. I looked around the taps and saw a smiling face. She had dark blonde hair worn in a ponytail and bright blue eyes that stood out sharply from the white skin, the only light circles on her otherwise sun-scorched face. Her sunglasses must have been on all day, and her light-blue tank top clearly showed the outline of the tee-shirt she must have worn to today's game. For whatever reason, people forget that ninety degrees and blazing sun is just as hot, here in the sticks, as anywhere else. At the end of the night this place smells like suntan lotion, cold cream, and sweat. She slid a fiver across the bar and said she had a joke to tell me. So I listened to her as I cleaned, and I told her that her comedy-act must have knocked 'em dead in Iowa. She dead-panned, "Nebraska." It only took a moment to freshen her drink and make her one of my special flaming-shots for last call (on the house, of course.) I tallied the register and turned up the lights as the last guests were leaving. Her face lit up as I placed a paper rose in front of her. Then I said, "now it's time for me to find a friendly little pub." She honestly surprised me when she asked if she could join me. I said that there was a dive-bar about a five minute walk from here, but that I still had twenty minutes of work to do. She asked for the bar's name and said that she would meet me there in half an hour. I had nothing better to do so "The first round is on me, see ya there...hey wait- what's your name?" "Just call me Debbie, and the first two are on you!" She smiled with a twinkle in her eye and slipped out. She made me laugh. Okay, so an older broad wants to drink and tell farm stories to her bartender before she tucks in her son and watches some late-night television. I did not get a real good look at her, but I have certainly walked into bars with worse. I can always cut out early or make-up some bullshit about a girlfriend. I don't want to be too nasty, if her kid's team keeps winning, I may have to see her all week. The door was locked and I had just killed the lights when this hot blonde tapped on the window. I yelled out that we already gave last call. But as I got a closer look, I was stunned. I thought, "now here's a chick I would like to go out with. What are my chances of ditching Miss Cornhusker and hooking-up with this hottie?" She tapped once again and yelled, "It's me, Debbie. I saw you inside still, and thought I could walk to the bar with you." "Wow!" What a difference ten minutes can make. Her blonde hair was now brushed to a golden shine and spilled softly on to her bare shoulders. The street lamps reflected off of it like a halo. Her pink lips had some sort of gloss to them and highlighted her big smile. Especially when she saw that I had trouble recognizing her. Whatever she had done with her make-up, softened her skin tone while seeming to make her eyes glow. And those eyes! I don't know how to describe them. Icy blue, maybe? But dazzling, with more than a bit of mischief in them. And as she jumped and waved to me it became rather obvious that that she had left her bra in the room. "How did I miss those tits?" I'm a guy who appreciates a nice rack. And whether they are on a teenager, a nun or my grandmother, I appraise them thoroughly and ponder the possibilities. These knockers were spectacular. They bounced freely under her frilly, pink , peasant-blouse. These babies had to be nearly forty double-d's. And the combination of her sun-warmed body and the cooling night air, had her nipples perking up as if she had a couple of thimbles poking through her sheer top. Her silver-dollar sized areolas were clearly outlined as she pressed against the big plate-glass front window. She left an imprint that resembled two big fried eggs on the glass. I almost crashed through it as I tried to get a better look down the front of her shirt. The neon beer signs shook and I cracked my noggin so hard, my knees about buckled. Fortunately she laughed and I avoided making a complete fool of myself. She tried to assume a stern, motherly reproach but then her girlish giggle made her boobs bounce all the more. She made a playful motion to cover her chest with her hands, but even if she had been serious, her small hands could not have accomplished the feat. She smiled again and chuckled, "You better come out here before you hurt yourself." I did not need a second invitation. "Thanks for noticing the difference," she bubbled as she planted a quick wet kiss on my cheek. "I was hoping to not look like a typical soccer mom, tonight." My imagination warped into overdrive. "Mission accomplished," I babbled. I placed my arms on her waist and held her steady at arm's length for a moment while I gave her a full body-scan. Beautiful smiling face, Pretty blonde hair, A+ tits. She wore a loose, billowy print skirt that hugged her full hips. Gazing down, I saw the tattoo of a kitten or something above her left ankle and then a pair of those stupid pink flip-flops. I hate to see women in cheap rubber flip-flops unless they are at the beach. And believe me, we are closer to Three-Mile Island than to any seashore! But I'll give her a Mulligan on the footwear, I don't think I'll be looking at her feet anymore, tonight. "Well, you gave me a pretty thorough exam, doctor. What do you think?" she asked with a very flirtatious smile. "I like every inch I see, and hope to be given a more complete view." My leer was only too obvious. But dishing-out compliments with just the right amount of sexual innuendo is a bartender's forte. Debbie played along perfectly. "Get me to the bar and who-knows what else may happen? Tequila has been known to dissolve my clothing." I returned her kiss and took her hand in mine like a high-school kid. We made our way around the corner and to a small, red-neck bar down by the river. It seemed a bit childish but oddly romantic to walk hand-in-hand with a woman twenty years my senior. Now I was able to steal a few furtive glances. Her blonde locks swayed gently as she walked and her butt had a very seductive jiggle. She wore some perfume, the scent of which, made me think of wild flowers. As we strolled along she snuggled up to me and bounced her hips against mine when she wanted me to look into her eyes. I truly enjoyed the short walk and looked forward to our evening. On arrival, I opened the pub doors and followed her in. All eyes turned instantly and the conversations muted as the good 'ol boys took in Deb's features. I quickly felt proud and more mature as we settled into a table by the window instead of my usual perch at the bar. I even held her chair as she sat down. The waitress, a girl I know well, gave me a sneer. She took our order and soon reappeared with beers and shots,(tequila, what else?) We had a pleasant conversation while sipping our beers out of glass. Deb would often grab my upper thigh to emphasize her stories or at the punchline of her corny jokes. I assumed it was just her mannerism, though I casually as possible draped my arm nonchalantly over her soft shoulders. She caught me more than once peeking down the front of her shirt but only rolled her eyes with a sort of exasperated expression. I was mesmerized by the way her blouse caressed the top of her jugs and then dropped-off suddenly to her lap. Those boobs seemed to jut out a foot, like the proud figurehead of a ship. She must have been used to creeps like me ogling her chest and she could dish-out some good natured ribbing. "If you drool any longer, you're going to need a lobster bib." She made drinking tequila an adventure. Debbie took a wedge of lemon and moistened an area just above her left breast, then sprinkled some salt on the sticky spot. She invited me to lick the salt off, and pulled her top down as far as decorum permitted in these circumstances. I moved to squeeze her breast in the moment, but she captured my hand and guided it to a warm place between her thighs. I was amazed, aroused and mighty confused. As I licked her breast she applied a slight pressure to my hand and allowed me to stroke her mound over the flimsy material of her skirt. We both let out sighs at the same time. I eased back with a salty smile to sip my beer and she abruptly rose from her chair and moseyed towards the jukebox. She peered back over her shoulder and with a sultry look she cooed, "That should hold your interest for awhile." I was beginning to suspect that she had slipped some invisible leash on me. When she returned, I heard some slow, country ballad playing. "C'mon, whirl me around the floor a little, and I'll try to impress your friends. There was only a tiny dance floor and the fellas all know I don't dance, but there I was twirling Debbie around and smiling from ear to ear. All the guys stared and I heard a few comments, but to hell with them. And I couldn't resist sneaking a glance at our waitress as she marveled at my newfound slow moves. My cock was stiff and the small head has often done the thinking for me. Besides I may never get a chance at a MILF like this again. My fantasies began to override my rational thought. I nestled into her neck, sniffing her flowery perfume and gently rubbed and patted her pear-shaped rear end. My left hand slowly snaked its way up to her tits and she did not stop its progress. In fact she seemed lost in her own thoughts. Her eyes were closed and she softly hummed as her own two hands settled on to my butt. The crowd had a great view as she kneaded my jeans and gripped me tight. I cupped her right breast and trailed sloppy kisses down her neck and in to her deep cleavage. The lights dimmed appreciatively and her left leg worked its way in between mine. We were now just swaying together and contentedly slow-groping each other. "Is this foreplay?" I thought. Did she fly two thousand miles to cheat on her former husband and pick me for her one-night stand? Deb continued to sway to the beat and I saw her blue eyes smiling. She knew I liked holding her, I could see it. Deb grinded slowly against me until our bodies were mashed together. I thought she had only been flirting at first, but no woman does this by accident. We were having sex. Dancing, standing, fully-clothed, but a sex act no matter what you call it. I know a woman can reach orgasm without actual intercourse, in fact I've heard that they can orgasm just by dreaming up some sexy images in their minds. Right now, Deb's breathing slowed. Her eyes had a far-away mist. She rubbed languidly against me at every turn. She appeared to be more in a trance than aroused and I'm not certain if she was even aware that I was still hanging on to her. I may not even have been necessary for what she was experiencing. Then I noticed it. A sudden heat wave enveloped her, breaking out in sweat and coloring her flesh. She looked through me and for about thirty seconds I felt a quiet throbbing sensation as I held her tight. Deb shook as if convulsing and then just as suddenly went completely limp. It took a moment for us both to recover from this phenomenon. Her body glistened and her blonde hair was damp. Her mouth opened with a sigh and a soft, trilling purr escaped her. Those blue eyes sparkled once again and her beautiful tits heaved once and shuttered. Debbie burst out with a wonderful, throaty, laugh and whispered a "thank you" in my ear. I needed a beer and she wanted a smoke. Our dance was over. I followed her back to our table and she sat down demurely as if we had just walked in. Our waitress, who had also been watching and admiring Deb's routine came over to get us another round. "No thanks, I've had all I can handle." Debbie offered, and asked me to escort her back to the hotel. Had she just been unfaithful and I missed it? Did I give her a tremendous orgasm and a lasting memory while standing in a crowded room, fully dressed? And what about me? I started with a raging hard-on, now I have blue balls and a bar tab! I walked her back to the hotel lobby where she chastely pecked my cheek and thanked me for a lovely evening. When she saw my disappointed and surprised expression, she replied, "I have to get back to my son before all the chaperones and busy-bodies notice. We're from a small community and everyone is either related or knows each other. I have never cheated on my husband even though the love left our marriage years ago. I'm sorry that I let you down, I was really tempted. Then she vanished up the stairs. When I finally made it back to my lousy apartment, I cracked another "cold one" and rewound the previous hour in my head. As I recalled her lovely face and sexy figure the night seemed pleasantly memorable. Then I replayed that seductive turn on the dance floor and my cock sprang to attention. I yanked my swollen cock and slid my hand roughly along it's entire length. The pressure building inside me was astronomical. I pictured Deb bent over our hi-top table with me now, firmly in control. Her shaved pussy would be my prize. And infront of a cheering audience I would force her to succumb to my wishes and, after her begging me to fuck her to orgasm, I would demand that she suck my huge cock until I filled her with my seed. I could feel her shudder beneath me as I ravaged her wanton cunt. I found myself tugging at my rod as I tried to analyze each minute of the night. I've had enough shitty dates end-up with me drinking alone and squirting a lake of jizm on my belly. I was accustomed to the routine, unfortunately. But this was something entirely different. Instead of frustration, I was intrigued. What had she done, and how did she do it? I actually enjoyed the experience and felt as if I received an education. When I came this time, it was like a bomb exploded! As the spasms subsided, I managed to convince myself that I was better-off "whacking-it" than embarrassing myself infront of this clearly more experienced, older woman. I came twice more as I played out scenarios where I wasn't totally in over my head. The sex was great, even if I was alone all along. That night I dreamed that I escorted a princess to a royal ball and charmed her with my debonair ways. It was the first wet dream I have had in years. I was appropriately ashamed and dejected as the morning dawned. At work that following night I learned that the little munchkins from the corn-hole state, had lost badly and were eliminated. Their plane left about an hour ago. The group in tonight was from Puerto Rico. We stocked for rum drinks and salsa music. I practiced my paper roses. The end, I hope you enjoyed it. Last Call Later, she would think that getting drunk that night had been the turning point of her life. The week had been long, with one problem after another mounting up until the pile of them was so huge she could barely see over it. By the time Friday rolled around, her only thought was to drink as much as humanly possible. And if she was still feeling out of sorts, she'd drink a little more. The little black dress she wore might have been designed to showcase her body, long and lean, but the look in her dark blue eyes kept any man who wanted to come up and talk to her at a considerable distance. She'd decided, while she'd washed her long black hair earlier that evening, that she wasn't going to talk to anybody besides the bartender, and him only because it was necessary. Just because she wanted to be out, didn't mean that she wanted to be out with people. The night wore on, and she lost track of the number of drinks she had. The bartender, for she hadn't even thought to ask his name, kept them coming steadily, and she had the absent thought to remember to tip him well when the evening was over. By midnight, she was drifting along on that lovely little wave that comes from intoxication, and by the time last call was announced, even she admitted that she was well and truly drunk. Sighing, she fumbled in her bag for her cell, when a hand closed over hers. Freezing, she glanced up to see that the hand was attached to the bartender, who was watching her out of eyes a deep rich brown. Very sober, very clear eyes. He smiled slowly, and she felt her insides melt a little before catching herself. "Is there a problem?" "No, not at all. If you need a ride home, I'll be more than willing to help you out. If you're willing to wait long enough for me to close up." She stared at him, weighing her options. It would be insane to say yes; she knew nothing about this man. For all she knew, he could be a sociopath in disguise. So she was more than a little surprised to hear herself say, "Yes, thank you." So while he cleaned up, putting away bottles, counting down the drawer, running the credit card reports, and all the other things that needed to be done to shut a business down, she sat in her chair and watched him. And watching him, she felt her blood being to heat in a way that hadn't happened in quite a while. Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was the stress of the week. Or perhaps it was him in general--the tall, rangy frame, the slightly long, rakishly tousled dark blonde hair. The efficient grace with which he moved. She rubbed the heel of her palm between her breasts, drew a deep breath. And exhaled it shakily when he hefted a garbage can and she saw the faint ripple of muscle beneath his shirt. Before too long, he was locking the door behind them, and ushering her to his car. The drive to her house was short, but seemed to take forever. There wasn't much to say, and she had never believed in small talk. If it was small, why bother talking about it all. When he pulled into her driveway, she was surprised when he shut the car off and came around, opening her door. Her surprise turned to amusement when he walked her to her door, waiting patiently for her to fish her keys out and open the door. Pushing it open slightly, she turned around to thank him. He moved in with the efficient grace she'd watched earlier, framing her face with his hands and lowered his head to press his lips against hers. They were firm, and warm, and very, very skilled. They moved over hers, gently at first, and then more persuasive, until she moaned softly, raising her hands to clutch at his sides. They stood on her front steps for long minutes, kissing in the darkness. When he broke the kiss, lifting his head a mere breath from hers, he whispered, "Yes, or no?" Once again, her head told her to say no. No matter how magnificently the man kissed, he was a stranger. But the blood pounding in her veins, the spinning in her head, the quickness of her breath, all told her to say yes. Throwing caution to the wind, she listened to her body for once. "Yes." Kissing her again, more determinedly, he backed her into her house, kicking the door closed behind them. Her purse fell to the floor as she started unbuttoning the shirt he wore, the cotton cool beneath her fingertips. When his hands found the zipper in the back of her dress and pulled it down, she shivered at the cool air that met her skin. The distance from the door to her bedroom was short. The journey was long, punctuated by falling articles of clothing, the thud of a shoe as it hit the hardwood floor, the gasp she let out when his clever mouth nipped in the hollow of her throat, the moan he couldn't quite hold back when she dug her nails into his back. They fell onto her bed, and the mood shot from hurried to desperate. She hadn't known she had it in her to need that badly. Her back arched, her hands fisting in his hair when he licked a path down her neck to her breasts. When he sucked her nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, she whimpered and begged. "Please." He simply moved his mouth to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. His own blood was roaring, telling him to hurry, to take. He'd watched her all night, sitting calmly at his bar. She'd looked lonely, he thought. More than lonely, alone. And watching, had wanted. And now the wanting had turned to need, fierce and undeniable. When he made his way down her body, stopping at her belly button long enough to lick into it and make her shiver, she shifted under him, restless. The alarm bells went off moments too late. "What--." And then he shifted lower, licking into her, and she forgot what she had been planning to ask, forgot her name, forgot everything but the swamping wave of pleasure. She gasped out her pleasure, her hands clenching and unclenching in his hair. Her hips bucked once, twice, before settling back down on the sheets. There was a light sheen of sweat on her skin now, and her heart was hammering like a freight train. Before she could catch her breath, he was driving her back up, higher than the first time, at a pace that would have frightened her if she had had any thoughts in her head. This time, when she came, she could have sworn that her eyes crossed. Limp and boneless, her hands slid down to lay on the sheets, grasping faintly. She felt him move back up her body, and when he brought his lips back to hers, the taste of herself on his lips was enough to have her blood stirring back to life. Grasping her leg, he brought it up to wrap around his waist, admiring the smoothness of her skin. Shifting his weight slightly, he slid into her, breathing out a sigh that mingled with her own. She was warm, and wet, and tight. She felt, quite simply, like heaven. The pace was slow but steady, a rhythm suited for long, lengthy pleasure. He watched her face, knew when she started the climb back up that mountain of pleasure. Knew when she slid over the edge, the way her eyes widened, like it was a rare, and beautiful sensation. The sounds of sighs and moans filled the room, with the occasional gasp. Although it was a long time, it felt like far too short of one before he felt the changes in his body, the tightening of muscles and the quickening of his blood. Under him, she was going up again, higher than any time before, and he wanted desperately to give her one last burst of passion before he was spent. And then it happened. It was like reaching for the clouds and finding you could touch the stars instead. It flashed through them both, leaving her stunned and breathless, and him not much better. Collapsing on top of her, he breathed heavily, the air searing his lungs. Long moments passed before he shifted his weight off her, lying next to her. He was surprised, and pleased, when she turned and curled into him. His hand moved up and down her back, tangling in the long length of hair. Gradually, their breathing returned to normal, and their heartbeats slowed. She spoke first. "Stay." When he didn't answer, she tilted her head to look into his face. He smiled slowly, the same smile she'd first seen in the bar, and she couldn't help but smile back. "Yes." Last Call The brass bell resonated throughout the bar, indicating last call, as I came to a close of another crazy Friday night at "1984", the 80s retro bar I had been employed at for the past 5 years. The doormen were awesome and never let anyone stay past 2:30am, knowing we all had better things to do. Being the working bar manager, I was responsible for closing up the bar and was always the last to leave. As I sat down, after finishing my closing duties, I took my first sip of wine & heard a noise coming from the ladies' washroom. I wandered over to the door and gave a little knock. "Hello? The bar's closed." All I could hear was a muffled moaning. I eased the door open and moved around the corner. To my amazement I came upon the hottest black woman I'd ever seen being drilled from behind by a huge muscular tattooed guy! The guy glanced over at me and gave me a nod, the chocolate hottie oblivious to my presence. My cock began to harden as my surprise was replaced by lust. Being in the bar business for so long I had had my share of sex with drunken women & men but never together, and I thought to myself, "I'm going to enjoy this." I had been working out on a regular basis for 3 or 4 years and I had developed a rather nice body over time. I kept tanned and clean shaven (all over), and was rather well hung at about 8 inches. My sexual "claim to fame" was the huge loads of cum I produced. My partners were always amazed at the volume of jizz that spewed out of my dick. The couple was still furiously going at it as I moved closer and began to massage my crotch. I glanced down at the muscle mans cock and realized I had nothing on this guy. His glistening piece of pink steel had to be 10 inches long and was incredibly thick. I had taken my rock hard dick out of my pants and knelt down face to face with his cock and her dripping pussy. Muscle guy pulled his huge rod out of her pussy and offered it to me. I licked the girl juice from the giant mushroom head and tasted pre-cum mixed with it. I began to lick and suck his monster cock, as the beautiful black girl turned and lowered her lips to my cock. The feeling was unreal as muscle guys cock head began to swell even bigger indicating he was about to cum. He threw back his head and groaned as he emptied his spunk into my throat. I swallowed until his orgasm subsided, cleaning his shaft and balls before letting his semi erect rod slip from my lips. The hot black girl stood up and leaned back on the sink and spread her legs wide, presenting her neatly shaven wet cunt to me. I have always loved eating pussy and this one looked like a great meal. I start by teasing her incredibly large clit with my tongue and she shuddered as soon as I made contact. Meanwhile, I could see in the mirrors reflection that muscle guy has gotten naked and was flexing in the mirror. His cock had regained its hardness as I continued to fuck the black girls' cunt with my tongue. Her whimpers slowly became screams as she approached climax. She reached down and began to furiously rub her clit, when suddenly she began to squirt cum all over my face! As I bathed in her love juice I felt muscle guys hand on my cock. He stroked it a few times making it even harder if that was possible. I stood, turned and began to feel muscle guys entire body. Ripple after ripple of rock solid muscle! It was too much! I turned back toward the mocha hottie and rammed my cock into her slippery snatch. I pounded her until her juice was dripping down her ass crack. I pulled my cock out and slowly forced into her tight ass. It felt better than anything I'd felt before. It only took 10 or 15 strokes before my balls tightened and I pulled out and began to blow my load all over the black chick. Next thing I knew muscle guy was down on his knees next to me with his mouth wide open. As I furiously pumped my cock with my hand I turned to muscle guy and began coating his tongue with my massive load of creamy white gold. I glanced at black girl and she was rubbing her clit as she squirted her juice all over the floor. I continued to fist my cock, and as my orgasm subsided, muscle guy stood up and aimed his massive cock at black girls' messy pussy. He began to spew his second load all over her belly and cunt. As I tucked my spent cock into back into my pants the couple dressed as well. I offered them a drink at the bar but they suggested we go somewhere a little more private. I agreed! Last Call I watched them most of the night. Two guys in their early twenties out trying to score some pussy. Now I have been a bartender for quite a while and they were pretty typical. Oh they tried a few lines on me, which is par for the course. I gave them a limp smile and served their drinks. I didn't want to encourage them, but I didn't want to blow my tip either. As the night wore on their luck remained the same. The girls were not paying them much attention even though they were both pretty cute. I realized why the few times I overheard their pickup lines. Let's face it, they were young and had a lot to learn. They stuck it out until closing with their luck never changing. I could tell by the sideways smiles through drunken glances that, at least in their eyes, I was quickly becoming their last chance. I'm not above partying with the patrons, but these guys were just above jailbait. Simply not my league. But I would admit they were both pretty buff and it had been a while. I'm not sure why, but my mind started examining the pros and cons of the situation. Of course, there was two of them and one of me. That wasn't a problem for me, but these guys seemed a bit inexperienced for that kind of thing. Then one of those nice devilish thoughts crossed my mind. A fantasy began to take shape in the inner reaches of my mind. I make these boys so horny they can't see straight, then I start making them do things, things they would never dream of doing. Yes, that's when it started getting good to me. That's when I started getting horny. Not really a challenge, mind you, for boys this young as their cocks become stiff with nothing more than a glance. But the idea of watching them do the unthinkable made the decision for me. As was my guess, all the other customers left except my two little drunken darlings. "OK boys, that's it...time to go. Let's finish them up, it's time to go home," I said without even looking their way. The blonde smiled at me and said, "Your place or ours?" I continued to wipe down the bar as if I hadn't heard him. I wanted him to dangle out there for a bit all by himself. After several moments, I stopped wiping and gave my boys a look. It was the reprieve the blonde had hoped for. "Well I have to admit, you boys don't give up easily. Let's face it, it's just not your night." Undeterred, he continued, "But it could be...with you." Now that was the spirit I was looking for. Believe me, he would need it. I gave him a look and the slightest of smiles. "You boys wouldn't have the slightest clue how to handle a woman like me...how can I say this...I'm a bit out of your league." It was all the encouragement he needed. "Well, maybe you could teach us." He stressed the us as if taking the two of them was going to shock me somehow. Little did he know. The plans I had for them almost seemed unfair. Almost. But now it was time to seal the deal. "You never know...I might teach you boys things you don't want to learn." "I doubt that" the blonde said unsteadily. I could tell that his subconscious was trying to tell him to slow down, think, but his drunken consciousness was not having any of that. Suddenly he was looking to his friend for a little support. "Right Pete?" "Yeah, that's right" his friend managed to say without sounding like a complete fool. "From the mouth of babes..." "Hey, just give us a try," said the blonde. My tone changed and so did my look. "I don't try anything...when you go to bed with me, you do everything I want and then some." They both were startled by the change of demeanor, but only for a second. "Sounds good to us." I gave them that smile again, the one that said I'm in control and you will not question me again. I pulled out two shot glasses and filled them with vodka. I handed them to my boys and said, "Bottoms up." They threw them down fast as I walked across the bar and locked the door. By the time I got back to their bar stools, I noticed two distinct bulges dominating their jeans. Yes, this was going to be fun. "What are your names?" I asked. "Craig" the blonde replied, "This is Bob" he said pointing to his buddy. I hopped up on the bar between them and licked my lips. You could feel the sexual tension rolling off of them. Without further adieu, I pulled my shirt up over my breasts and then pulled my bra down to reveal my hard nipples. Not believing their luck, they looked at each other and smiled. "Now lets see...we will start with something easy. Craig, you take this one... and Bob, that one." I then slipped my hands behind their heads and gently nudged them toward my nipples. Soon I was blessed by the gentle caress of my boys doing exactly as I wanted. It felt divine. But I wanted to keep the ball in my court, so I continued to take the dominant position. "That's it, boys. Show me what you got. Lick it...lick it." I rolled my tongue across my lips for moral support as I stared down at them feeding on my breasts. After working all night, their dueling tongues felt wonderful. I was surprised that Craig wasn't that good. I would have thought otherwise as he was the dominant of the two. I had just assumed he was more experienced. But it was Bob, dark hair and rather quiet, who really knew what a sensual caress was all about. Tender, sensuous and titillating, his tongue was working wonders on my libido. I let them feast for several minutes knowing full well their cocks were straining to the point of being painful. That's exactly where I wanted them. There is nothing easier to control then an extremely horny young man. I pulled back so slightly and announced, "Take your shirts off" I moaned breathlessly. No sooner were the words out of my mouth then my boys rushed to comply. Now I could see just how buff they really were. They were both muscled and trim suggesting sports of some kind. "So you boys are friends, huh? I bet you do everything together. Ever shared a girl before?" I asked giving them a leer. Their eyes lit up with surprise. It was just as I thought. "Well...I have a feeling that you two are going to be much closer by morning time." I reached down and began massaging those lovely bulges in their jeans. Moans escaped their mouth almost simultaneously. "Just the way I like them...nice and hard." Those devilish thoughts returned. My panties were growing quite damp. It was time to start working on Craig. He was the dominant one. Once he gave in, they were mine. I turned to him, and with a soft, sexy voice said, "You know...the way your friend licks my nipple is much softer...sexier." I then turned to the Bob and said, "Here, show him how you do it...do to him just exactly what you have been doing to me." I then pulled back so it was just the two of them. It was the moment of truth. I could see confusion on Bob's face. Was it the alcohol or was he resistant to my suggestion? Either way, I wasn't going to give him time to think about it. "No, here" I said nudging his head towards his friends bare nipple. "You do this so well...do it to him so he knows what I like." I continued to push his head downward while giving Craig a nice big smile. That was all it took. And just like that the Bob clasped his lips around Craig's stiff nipple. Craig was immediately responsive to the caress although he tried to hide it. He wasn't hiding it from me. I could see the pleasure in his eyes, but I could also see that this was new. That made me even wetter. I kept my hand on his head as a gentle reminder in case he changed his mind. I watched as his tongue began to caress his buddy's stiff nipple, just as he had mine. I began to massage his scalp, raking my long nails gently along the back of his head, as a sign of my approval. The blonde was now watching his friend's tongue as it worked its magic on his nipple. If I didn't miss my guess, neither had ever touched another man before. And that made it all worthwhile. Once Bob relaxed a bit and started rolling his tongue sensuously across Craig's nipple, things started to get interesting. Craig wanted to moan, but stifled it. I guided Bob to Craig's other nipple where he jumped right in teasing it with his tongue. I glanced at the nipple he just left and found it stiff with excitement and glistening with saliva. Craig was quickly getting to the point where he didn't care who was making him feel this good. "See? See how nice that is?" I told Craig. He was still looking down watching his friend tease his nipple. Bob suckled his buddy's nipple without the slightest hesitation. I removed my hand from the back of his head and moved it down to the bulge in his jeans and began rubbing him. It was a reward for doing such a good job. His cock throbbed in my hand. I knew he was getting off to the action. Craig was digging it too, but he was going to need more to do the things I wanted him to do. I put my hand behind his head, grabbed a bunch of hair, and tilted his head towards me. I moved in for a nice wet kiss. I forced my tongue between his lips and he moaned. Now I could feel his body swaying ever so gently to his buddy's caress and knew he was close to where I wanted him. His free ride was just about over. I pulled away and reached down for the Bob. I grabbed his head and yanked it up towards me and planted my lips on his. I drove my tongue inside his mouth and caressed him while reaching blindly for Craig. I found him and guided him down towards his buddy's chest. He knew what I wanted and I was glad that he offered no resistance. Bob instinctively jerked when he felt his buddy's lips around his nipple, but I continued to drive my tongue down his throat. And just as quickly I could feel him relax as he started to enjoy it. Craig was horny enough now where he needed no encouragement. Bob started moaning into my mouth. I could feel the juices starting to drip down my leg. I pulled back and watched Craig for a moment. "Yes... that's it...much better" I purred, "you are a quick learner...I like that in a man." I turned Bob in his barstool so that he was facing away from the bar. I snuggled in behind him, mashed my exposed breasts against this back. I told Craig, "I want to see his cock. Get those pants off of him so I can see his cock." I nibbled Bob's ear and watched Craig tug on the zipper to his pants. I moved my hand to Craig's scalp giving him a gentle massage as he diligently worked to unbuckle Bob's pants. He then grabbed the pants legs and pulled hard. Bob sat there on the stool, his cock visibly throbbing inside his underwear. He was a magnificent specimen of man. I waited for Craig to pull his underwear off as well, but he was just sitting there staring. "Those too" I whispered. Craig grabbed his buddy's underwear and freed his cock, which stood stiff demanding attention. Craig just stared at it, his mouth inches away. I needed to move fast. I hopped off the bar and moved between Bob's legs. I grabbed his cock, just at the base, and looked at Craig. I looked deep into his eyes for several moments. I wanted to connect with him. I wanted him to know that I was there, with him, for him. Once I saw that in his eyes, I bent his buddy's cock towards my lips and gently slipped it inside. Now I love sucking cock as much as the next person, but I knew that it was very important for me, at that moment, to impress Craig with just how great it is to suck cock. So I really expressed myself! I drove down his length in the most sensuous way, moaning and luxuriating in the hard, yet soft, warm flesh of his buddy's cock. Craig watched intently as inch after inch of his buddy's cock disappeared between my hungry lips. Bob moaned his approval enthusiastically. I kept my eyes on Craig as I sucked that cock. I wanted to keep that connection with him. He watched and all but licked his lips in the process. And that's what I wanted to see. I pulled that thick, hard cock from my mouth and aimed it at his lips. I dared him with my eyes. He wasn't about to back down. He set his jaw, lowered his lips and took his buddy's cock into his mouth. We maintained eye contact as he worked his way down his buddy's length. I smiled as his lips reached my hand at the base. The thought of him sucking his first cock, all the way down, excited me to no end. I would reward him later, but that would have to wait. His smooth young face looked so good with a cock buried his lips. He could see the pleasure in my eyes. It was all the encouragement he needed. He began to work his buddy's cock. There is something about cock sucking that men really lock into. This was not the first time I had witnessed it. Without the slightest bit of direction, he began to suck his buddy in long, slow strokes. The chorus of moans soon pervaded the atmosphere, which only served to encourage him more. Bob was so lost in his enjoyment that I wasn't sure if he had figured out that his friend had taken over. Not that he would have cared. "Yes...that's it. Nice and slow..." I said watching that beautiful cock disappear between Craig's lips. I guess that was when Bob put it all together. Hearing my voice and yet still having his cock sucked caused him to open his eyes and take stock of the situation. He looked down to see his cock lodged firmly in his buddy's mouth. If it bothered him, you could have fouled me. He gave me a lazy smile of appreciation. I rose slightly and tongued Bob's nipple as Craig lost himself in that primitive, yet very enjoyable act of sucking cock. The one thing I was sure of was that Craig certainly didn't consider himself a cocksucker. I'm sure it was probably the furthest thing from his mind before that evening. But he was now sucking his buddy as if he had been born to do nothing else. I was so proud of Craig that I wanted to reward him. Besides, Bob was getting very close to climax and I didn't want that to happen just yet. I gently pulled Craig off and hopped up into Bob's lap. I looked at Craig and asked, "Well you do the honors?" He smiled and grabbed Bob's cock and guided it into me. It didn't take much and I had his entire length within me. That young stiff cock felt so very good. I bounced on it a few times in shear enjoyment. But I had other plans. I patted the bar where I had once sat. Craig took my hint and hopped up on the bar barely an inch away. It was hard to resist grinding against the cock inside me, but I did long enough to grab Craig's cock and direct it to Bob's lips. We both watched as he sucked it into his mouth. Craig thrust his hips forward making sure his buddy got plenty of cock. Now if I didn't know better, I would have said that Bob had sucked many a cock. He sucked and slurped on that cock like a pro. I started grinding away on his cock loving its hardness inside me. It was all I could do to prolong my first orgasm until a more opportune time. My boys were doing all the nasty things I wanted them too, just as I had hoped. Horny young men as so easy. I was determined to make each of them swallow the others cum. That would be the ultimate conquest and I would settle for nothing less. I pulled free long enough to re-position everyone. I pulled Bob behind me and nudged Craig to slide in before me. I then reached back and found Bob's cock and pulled it between my legs from behind. I rubbed it several times across my clit, but didn't let him enter me just yet. I turned around and looked at the Craig and then nudged his head down, down towards my legs, towards his buddy's cock between my legs. With a firm hand behind his head, I directed Craig down on his buddy's cock. He wasted no time sucking it in and lathering it up with his saliva. I then directed his mouth towards my pussy and he got the idea. He directed his tongue to my clit and flicked it several times. Then without my direction, he reached over and grabbed his buddy's cock and pushed it just inside my pussy. He surprised me by leaning in and licking my clit and his buddy's cock at the same time. It was marvelous! Bob would fuck me for a minute or two and then pop his cock out where Craig would go down on it. Then Craig would push it back into my pussy for another round. It was better than I could have hoped. I sensed that Bob was on the edge of climax and I wanted desperately to have him shoot his entire wad into his buddy's mouth. I would not be satisfied until they both swallowed swimming pools worth of cum. I pulled Bob from my pussy and moved him around so that his cock was directly between Craig and me. It gave me a perfect view. I took Bob's cock and slipped it between Craig's lips. "He is ready for you...do me proud." Craig didn't let me down. He went all the way down on Bob's cock and stayed there. Bob moaned loudly and threw his head back. He thrust forward just once and then released into Craig's mouth. That's when my first orgasm cursed through my body. Craig tried his best to swallow it all, but Bob had too much volume. It started leaking out the sides of his mouth and that's when I had my second orgasm. Bob became too sensitive and yanked his cock away. I kissed Craig and sucked the rest of the cum from his mouth. Seconds later, I said, "Now its your turn." Without hesitation, I moved Craig around so that his cock was bumping up against his friend's lips. "Now, bring him off." Bob smiled and sucked that cock between his lips. I could tell from the look in his eye that if he hadn't been sucking cock for years, he was certainly going to start. He sucked that cock with so much enthusiasm that Craig blew a huge load down his throat barely a minute later. And Bob obviously loved the taste of sperm. He sucked him dry and then licked his cock until it grew limp. I watched. I was very pleased. Both my boys did everything I wanted them too. I'm sure they would tell no one and that was fine with me. But if I didn't miss my guess, the next time they struck out at last call, they would go home and suck each other's cock. Last Call It was well past two in the morning Saturday by the time Sherry made her way back home. Sherry had started her partying Friday right after work, when she, along with a few of her friends, decided to celebrate the weekend at a bar they frequented often. They had been tipping more than a few as well as dancing, until the combination of the two got to be too much for even her. Thank God, she hadn't driven or she would have had to call Steve to pick her up again, then listen to him rant and rave all the way home. It wasn't unusual for her to be this late; in fact it had become pretty commonplace over the last year or so. Oh well, her husband was probably sleeping, as usual, but it wasn't beneath her to make more than enough noise to wake his ass up, in fact she kind of enjoyed doing that. She had really become a vindictive bitch, she thought to herself with that drunken smirk still plastered on her face. Staggering up the stairs she passed the guest room and kept on walking. It wasn't really walking, more so just putting one foot in front of the other as she made her way down the dark hallway. By the time she hit the master bedroom, she was sliding her shoulder against the wall to make sure she kept herself upright. Pushing the door open with her foot, Sherry saw that her bedside table lamp was on, and more surprisingly, the bed were empty. "Where in the hell is he?" her brain asked, shooting an impulse to her legs to check out the bathroom. After checking the rest of the upstairs and finding no one, she headed back downstairs. There was a dim light on in the kitchen, and she thought that maybe he'd fallen asleep at the kitchen table waiting up for her. No such luck, but Sherry did find that the hood light over the stove had been left on. "That son of a bitch is going to hear it from me when he gets home, making me worry like this." That's when she saw some stuff piled on the counter. Sherry almost didn't bother with it, thinking she would wait until morning, but something shiny caught her eye. Pulling one of the high top chairs back from the counter she flopped down in it and scooted it up to the counter. She fumbled and finally picked it up; it was Steve's damn ring. Not just any ring—it was his wedding ring. Rolling it around with her fingers even her numb brain figured out this wasn't normal. Stacked underneath was a bunch of papers and things she started to sort through. Her passport, what looked like some kind of ticket, and a sealed envelope. Sherry looked at her watch, two thirty. Maybe she'd wait until Steve got home so he could explain this all to her. She folded her arms on the counter, laid her heavy head down on them, and was asleep in no more than a minute or two. How Sherry ended up on the floor she wasn't certain, but hitting the floor will wake up anyone, drunk or not. Rubbing her face, she glanced at her watch, five forty-five. That damn Steve, he came home and left her sleeping on the counter. Getting to her feet she charged up the stairs to wake his ass up, but like before he wasn't there. This time she didn't stagger, but swiftly walked back down the stairs and into the kitchen. Sherry hit the overhead light and now everything was illuminated by the bright recessed kitchen lighting. "What the hell's going on?" she thought, as she opened the door to the garage and saw that Steve's car was still missing. Looking over at the counter she again saw the pile of items. She hadn't used her passport in years, she thought, as she looked at the old outdated photo. The ticket was an airline ticket to Florida, and the final piece was an envelope with her name on it. Tearing into it she pulled out two pages. Sherry ran to the bedroom for the reading glasses she kept on her night table, taking the letter with her. She went back down into the kitchen, sat at the counter and started to read. Dear Sherry, If you're reading this, you've figured out I'm not at home, and you've found everything I've left for you. I know you have heard it in bars, especially over the last couple of years for sure. About a half hour before they're ready to close they'll yell out 'last call." This, my dear wife, is your last call. You, of all people, won't be surprised when I say that our marriage isn't working and hasn't been for a long time. I'd like to say I'm willing to let it go on like it has for the past couple of years, but that's not what is going to happen. As I see it we have basically two choices. One, you can get off your ass, scoop up those documents and join me for a hard week of trying to save what's left of our marriage. If you choose that route I'll meet your plane and we can go on from that point. Option two isn't quite as nice. We separate, split everything fifty fifty and end what has become a sham of a marriage. I'm not really sure I wouldn't prefer to see option two happen, but because I still have feelings for you, not a lot of feelings anymore, but something is still there, I am willing to give it one more try. I'm not going to write a long dissertation on how we got to this point and who's fault it is or was, I'm just going to say that I can't continue on the path you've chosen for us. Sherry stopped reading for a moment and looked around the room. This was a joke, it had to be. Steve didn't have the balls to do what he had written. She knew any minute now he would be walking through the door, his tail tucked between his legs, asking for forgiveness like he always did. "This is the thanks I get for being too easy on him," Sherry thought to herself. "If he thinks he can scare me by threatening a divorce, he is sadly mistaken." She decided to finish reading his stupid letter as long as she'd gotten this far. Sherry, we've had some great times in the past and raised two wonderful children, but as they say you can't stay in a bad marriage just for the sake of the kids. They're on their own now and making their own lives with the people they have chosen. I think if we're both willing to give a little, we can find what we had when we first met. I'm not saying it will be easy, but it's necessary if our marriage is to survive. "Crap, crap, crap," is what she said, tossing the letter on the counter. "I gave that man my virtue and everything else I had, and he now says it's not enough? As God is my witness he is going to pay for this when he comes home," Sherry said aloud to the empty room. "If he wasn't such a sniveling little wimp and had even the resemblance of a backbone, then maybe I wouldn't have to push him all the time. If it weren't for me, he would still be a frigging route salesman instead of moving up the ranks like he has. He should be on his knees kissing my feet instead of giving me ultimatums. Who does he think he is and for that matter who does he think he's talking to? His damn mother?" Sherry was getting worked up now, like she always did when Steve didn't do exactly what she wanted him to do. She went back to reading. Like I said, Sherry, I'll meet you at the plane, and we can try to start our lives over again, but you need to make sure you're on that plane. Sherry looked at the ticket. "There's no way in hell I can make that damn flight; it leaves in just three hours," she said, looking at her watch. "Won't Mr. High and Mighty be surprised when I'm not on the damn plane," she said, spinning his wedding ring on the counter. "And if he thinks he's getting this ring back when he finally comes home he's sadly mistaken. He's going to have to earn it back," she snickered, thinking about all the ugly things she was going to make him do. When she spun the ring and it fell onto the floor she just left it there. She was tired. After a long night of partying with her friends she needed sleep. She would deal with her husband later—and at her convenience. Sherry didn't take the time to read the rest of the letter because if she had, she would have seen if she wasn't on the plane a whole list of items, that had already been put in the works, would happen starting in just a few short hours. Later that morning Sherry was nursing a cup of coffee at the kitchen table, vowing never to drink again, when Steve's two brothers, Chris and Jack, walked through the front door. "Excuse me, you two can't just walk into my house, even if you are Steve's damn brothers." "Go ahead and finish your coffee. We're just here to pick up a few items my brother wanted us to get for him," Chris said, looking at his piece of shit sister. "All right, go ahead, and you can tell him from me that he is in a world of deep shit when he comes home." They never responded, just ran up the stairs with a box of black trash bags. Three trips was all it took, and they were gone without saying another word to Sherry. "They could have at least said thank you," Sherry mumbled to herself, finishing her second cup, now thinking about breakfast or maybe lunch looking up at the clock. After her lunch she went shopping with her friends, and since Steve wasn't around they made a night of it again. She never made it home. She woke up on Carol's couch Sunday afternoon praying for death. For the second time in two days she swore off the booze, but that would only last until she sobered up and felt better. "Steve's probably at home right now wondering where the hell I am. He can just think the worst, it'll serve him right." She went back to sleep. To further teach Steve a lesson, Sherry spitefully was going to stay over at Carol's Sunday night too, but she really needed to get home. She had to be at work Monday morning, and didn't have a change of clothes. When she walked into a still empty house, Sherry got mad all over again. "He can run, but he can't hide forever," she said under her breath, planning even more ugly things when she saw him the next time. Sunday night was quiet, too quiet. She was reading in bed and for the first time thought about Steve and not in an ugly manner. "Maybe I'll give him a little when he finally decides to come home. It's been a while and I know how much he loves to go down on me." That thought made her feel something deep down inside—not love mind you, but what it felt like after Steve got her off. She woke up late Monday morning with her book still on her lap. Monday she was running late. Steve had always made sure her ass was up and moving, so this morning without him, Sherry got to work a half hour late. It was a busy Monday, as always, and if it weren't for Carol asking when Steve had finally shown up, she probably wouldn't have given it a second thought. That is until ten fifty-four when a man in a suit walked up to Sherry and handed her an envelope. "Mrs. Sherry Moore, you've been served," was all he said. When she took the envelope he turned around and walked back out the way he came in. "That bastard," she said out loud. "He's gone too far now, that little prick is going to pay big time for embarrassing me at work like this," she screamed on the inside, looking around to see how many people saw her getting served. At lunch Carol and Sherry looked over the papers. "He is really not asking for much of anything. Fifty percent of the savings, his 401k, and you get to keep the house. Looks like he just wants out," Carol said, scanning the five-page document. "He's not going to get a damn thing. By the time I'm done with him, he'll wish he'd never met me." She was spewing the venom she normally saved just for Steve. During lunch Sherry looked at their bank accounts on line. She found that fifty percent of all their money had been withdrawn. When she called over to the bank all they would tell her was Steve had withdrawn the money and they had no record of any additional accounts in his name. It was obvious to Sherry he had taken the money and opened his own account at another bank. On the way home from work Sherry stopped at the bank and also opened up a new account in her own name only. "Two can play this game," she thought, driving to her empty house. Sherry went into the kitchen, poured herself a tall glass of wine, and walked over to the counter where she had left Steve's letter and everything else two days before. She picked it up and reread it with more interest than she had early Saturday morning. She came to the part where she had left off and continued to read. Sherry, if you're not on that flight, I guess I'll have my answer and the following things are going to happen. I've already removed everything I wanted out of the house, excluding the rest of my clothes. My brothers will be there sometime Saturday to collect whatever is left. Monday you will be served with the divorce papers I had made up months ago. Like I said, this is your last call and if you're not here with me Saturday, well then, it's over. I'll be fair, but if you contest it, it'll get ugly and I don't think either of us wants that. Also, in case you're concerned, our kids have known that we've had a marriage in name only for years and shouldn't be too surprised. And our families? Well, they're surprised we're still together. That's all I've got to say until I see you in person or not. If not, have a good life, and believe it or not I don't wish you any ill will. I hope you find whatever makes you happy. Your husband, Steve Sherry looked at the airline ticket and the rest of the documents. "Shit!" was the first word that came to her mind. *************************** On Sunday morning, a couple of thousand miles away, Steve was sitting on a lounge chair playing with the new toy he had purchased the week before. "I'm sorry," she said, looking over at Steve. "Don't be, it was mostly my own fault. If I hadn't given in to her all these years and stood my ground we wouldn't be in this mess now, or maybe we would have. Who knows? I don't care anymore. I'm just glad it's finally over." "Did you really think she was going to come?" "No, but I told my kids I was going to give it one more shot," Steve said, still going through the iPad menu looking for the books he had previously downloaded. "You're just happy we won't be using both cabins now." "Well, if you want, we can switch cabins every night, that way we'll always have a clean bed to mess up," Donna said, pulling Steve to her, and giving him a kiss with more than a little tongue. Donna worked with Steve for the last ten years, and had watched him slowly get more and more unhappy in his marriage. Her own husband died eight years ago, and Steve had been someone to vent her frustrations to when she reached the end of her rope as she did on many occasions. He was a sensitive friend, telling her that it would get easier day-by-day, and if she ever needed someone to talk to he was always available. He became her sounding board. However, Steve wasn't always so gentle and nice, more than once he had to kick her in the ass. "Your husband died, you didn't. Randy wouldn't have wanted you to give up on life. Grieve for him, then move on. You're young, good looking, and have a lot to offer. Any man would be lucky to have you." That seemed like an eternity ago. The card she gave him three years ago had only two words on it, 'Thank You.' It was left on his desk unsigned, but Steve knew whom it was from. Two years ago the roles reversed. Donna started to listen to Steve's problems, and when asked gave him her advice. There was nothing physical going on between the two of them, though Donna knew she'd jump his bones in a heartbeat given half the chance. So they became close friends who came to depend more and more on each other. Nine months ago Steve came into work on Monday with fire and brimstone coming out of every orifice. It was Sherry this and Sherry that, and he was finished with the ungrateful bitch. Still Donna did nothing. She gave advice, but Sherry was pushing the envelope. It got so bad that Donna was ready to put a bullet between Sherry's eyes herself to ease Steve's pain. Then out of the blue came Steve's offer, a one-week paid vacation on the Carnival Glory, except there was a catch, separate cabins. Donna was confused. "It's my last ditch effort to save what's left of my marriage, although I'm almost one hundred percent sure Sherry is going to let it slip between her fingers like everything else. Even if she decides to grace me with her presence, I want you there on the ship, in the other cabin, when I finally get it through my thick skull it's over." Donna smiled, said she'd love to go, and the two of them made the plans together. They waited together at the Southwest airline gate number twenty-six. When the pilot and crew finally walked off of the plane Steve was relieved. He grabbed a shocked Donna and kissed her once lightly then again with a lot more feeling. "I've wanted to do that for years." He did it one more time before saying they had a boat to catch. They checked into their prospective rooms, and then sat on deck looking at all the things that were going to be offered over the next seven glorious days. Steve switched Donna's dinner table reservation. They decided not to book any excursions. "Maybe on their next cruise," Donna told Steve with a smile. They spent the rest of the day walking the ship, had a wonderful time at dinner, and at the dance clubs afterwards. It was close to one a.m. before the two had to address the sleeping arrangements. The first night they slept alone in their own cabins. "That is the last time I ever sleep alone again," Steve informed Donna at breakfast. When he slipped a promissory ring on her finger he told her they would take it a day at a time until the divorce became final. Donna was walking on air with her head in the clouds. And when they spent the night together Sunday, it was better than he though it could ever be. Steve was happy again. On the last day of the cruise, Donna said they should just hide in their cabin and do it all over again. Steve loved the thought of it, but knew it couldn't be. "Two people are expected back at work Monday, and I don't think either of our bosses would understand." He was right, but she could ask, couldn't she? Donna said he could move in with her. As tempting as that was, Steve chose to live, for now, with his brother Chris, while the divorce wound it's way through the courts. Sherry called him every name in the book, and threatened him with everything she could. Steve just smiled and never let it bother him. He was happy. Whether she liked it or not the divorce was granted and the ninety-day waiting period, until it became final, began. Their children grew tired of all their mother's tirades saying that maybe, just maybe, if she had treated him like a loving husband, instead of a door mat, they would still be married. Sherry didn't talk to either of them for a month. Ten days before their divorce became final, Sherry saw the engagement announcement in the paper and sent an ugly e-mail to Steve. The day after his divorce became final, Donna and Steve exchanged vows with just a few people present, which included his two children, his parents, Donna's sister, and her mother and father. Steve became even happier everyday. A month later, Sherry was sitting in the bar along with what was left of her friends. At about one thirty the bartender rang the big bell behind the bar. "Last call," he yelled out. "If only!" Sherry said to herself with just a hint of a tear. "If only." Last Call Birthday Whore "And what do you do for a living?" she asked as she casually propped an elbow up on the bar. "I do data-base consulting work for several small companies in town," he replied. "Computers...fascinating," she said. She smiled coyly at him while absent-mindedly fingering the long-stemmed wine glass. "So, other than talking to strangers at bars, what exactly do you do?" he asked. "Oh, this and that," she answered, knowing it was best to give a vague reply. "Hmm....sort of an evasive answer, don't you think?" He smiled and watched her facial expressions. "Evasive?—no. Vague, perhaps." She raised the inner corner of her eyebrow and flashed him a smile along with a flirty little tilt of the head. "My interests are sort of on a 'need to know' basis." "Well then, I suppose I need to know. What exactly are your interests?" He slid his left hand onto the bar and ran his index finger lightly across the inside of her elbow. "Let's cut to the chase. Do you mean, 'Am I interested in leaving this bar with you tonight?'" She grinned. "Honestly, you seem like a really nice guy, and I've enjoyed chatting with you, but no—I don't see us leaving together, if that is what you are hinting." "Well, then obviously you don't really believe I'm that nice of a guy," he grinned and leaned toward her just a bit. "You are nice enough," she said standing to her feet. "I'm just not looking for a one nighter." She slowly moved to stand behind his left shoulder and leaned over to whisper into his ear. "But if I were looking, you would definitely be leaving here lucky tonight," she purred softly. As she turned to walk away she made sure the tips of her breasts brushed against his arm. He shifted slightly, leaning back to prolong the feeling of her tight tits against him as they slid across the back of his shoulder. He turned around and watched as she sauntered slowly toward the left-hand side of the room. "Damn little tease," he muttered to himself as he eyed the soft sway of her hips and felt the throbbing ache between his legs sharpen. She sat down at an empty table in the far corner of the smoky bar. Still he couldn't help but grin as he turned back around and dipped his hand into the pretzel bowl next to him. She asked for a glass of red wine and sat with her legs crossed at the knee, smoothing the fabric of her blue silk dress while she waited for the server to return with her drink. She scanned the crowd slowly and looked at each man seated near the bar. Mr. Computer Consultant would have made a pretty hot catch for the night if she were into that sort of thing. No harm in a little fun flirtation though, as long as she didn't let things get out of hand. She certainly had no intention of going home on the arm of a stranger tonight for some quick little rut on a lumpy couch and a 2 a.m. cab ride home alone. The waitress plopped her drink onto the faux-wood table top and folded a paper cocktail napkin beside it. She lifted the glass to her lips. As she swallowed the first sip, a tall gentleman pulled out a chair at her table and sat down across from her. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked after the fact. "And what if I said, 'yes, I mind?'" "Now, why in the world would you want to do that?" "And why in the world would you want to sit down at my table?" she asked bluntly. "How else are you going to get to know what a wonderful guy I am unless I sit down and we talk?" He smiled and leaned against the back of his chair. He was certainly self-confident, perhaps even somewhat arrogant. He had classic good looks: chiseled features, smoky-blue eyes, and a head full of dark hair with just a bit of graying at the temples. "Okay, so I am going to discover that you are a wonderful guy. What else?" she asked, taking the bait. "You might just discover that I am going to change your world." She laughed openly. Her red shoulder-length curls bounced as she threw her head back. "Wow. Now that is a line if I have ever heard one." He smiled smugly. "I don't use lines. I shoot straight and honest." He stood up, picked up his chair and dropped it into place next to her. "I see what I want and I go for it," he replied as he sat back down. Her expression grew serious. "And what exactly is it that you want?" His eyes locked with hers and he leaned over slightly, draping his arm across her thigh. With one smooth movement he pushed his open hand over her legs, uncrossing them and then he slid his hand underneath the slit in her dress that exposed her left thigh. She gasped when she realized what he had done. His palm flattened against the top of her naked thigh and his warm hand slid straight up between her legs without hesitation. She instinctively clamped her hips shut and glared at him. She couldn't believe what was happening. This guy had waltzed over to her table, uninvited, and was actually mauling her in public. She opened her mouth to protest as his hand pressed in tighter, pushed against her resistance and clamped down firmly between her legs. She reached out with both hands and grabbed his arm. "I'll have you know that I'm not some cheap buffet you can just walk up and sample." She struggled to push his arm away as his middle finger wiggled underneath the satiny edge of her panties and slid into her. He was startled at how wet she was and how easily his finger stroked back and forth across her hot little slit. He ignored her rising protests and continued to slide his finger deeper. Her mouth literally dropped open in shock. She tried to think of something to say to get him to stop. Instead she found herself acutely aware of how firm his finger was and how the back-and-forth dragging motion of it caused her whole body to tingle. Instead of continuing the useless protest, she tilted her head back, closed her eyes and enjoyed the ripples of pleasure that radiated from between her legs. She found herself pulling her knees further apart to accommodate more of this dark-haired man's skilled hand. He smiled when he saw the gap between her legs widen. He had never been so bold before and had no idea how this woman would respond to such a blatant sensual come-on. He had watched her at the bar all night as she talked to the guys that hit on her. She had smiled, laughed, and flirted, but had walked away from every single one of them. He hoped the end result for him would be different. Now he sat here in the corner of this dank little bar with his finger sliding back and forth against her pulsing twat. He slid two fingers into her moistness and pushed them deep into her wet hole. He watched her shoulders tighten and her back stiffen. She tossed that beautiful red head back and let out a soft slow moan. He slid both fingers out and curved them to press firmly against her clitoris. Then he smoothly pushed them down and back into her wetness. Again and again he pulled them out and pressed them back, a little faster with each pass. After several repetitions of increasing speed, he felt her hips jerk and she gasped, squeezing her closed eyelids even tighter together. The bulge in his pants was painfully tight now. It strained against his cotton underwear and begged to be freed. He leaned over and kissed her on the neck while his fingers continued to slide and tug faster and faster. He breathed in the smell of her and heard the jagged little gasps that vibrated from her lips. He thought about how wet and tight she was and he swallowed hard. The ache between his legs tortured him. His fingers shoved deeply into her as he thought about what it would feel like to ram his hard stiff cock into her tight wet hole. She moaned louder now. She heard him sigh and felt him press his warm lips into the smoothness of her neck. She still could not wrap her mind around the fact that she was sitting in this public place and this man was..."Oh," she sighed. His fingers pushed and pumped against her pelvic bone and she strained to grind her clit against his knuckles. She breathed in a sharp deep breath and exhaled swift ragged puffs of air. Her hips undulated to the age-old rhythm of sensuous raw pleasure. She fought against the urge to thrash and buck her hips for fear of drawing attention to what was happening between her legs underneath the shabby bar-room table. He picked up the pace of his thrusting fingers and bent his middle thumb knuckle so the edge of it smacked against her clit each time his fingers plunged deep inside her. She pressed the top of her shoulders hard against the back of the chair and shoved her hips up into the air to push against his hand. He steadied the back of her chair with his free hand and thrust harder and faster with the other. She arched her back and panted with each breath as she resisted the urge to let out a guttural growl. He noticed that the guy she had been talking with earlier at the bar had turned around and obviously recognized what was happening. His lips were parted and his eyes were locked on the facial expressions of the woman as she moaned and arched in unrequited release. She tightened her back even more and her upper thighs bumped against the underside of the table in a quick steady rhythm for five or six hard thrusts. She was oblivious to the low tapping sound her thrusts made. "Whump. Whump. Whump." With one last deep push of fingers and upward shove of thighs, her entire body spasmed with the release of coiled passion. Her body shuddered. She whimpered and laid her limp head against the broad shoulders of the man who had indeed just changed her world. He slid his hand out from under her dress and sat quietly while she fought to regain control of her heaving body. After a few moments the man spoke. "How would you like to get out here and go someplace private?" he asked. "What did you have in mind?" her voice quivered. "There is a hotel just a block or so down the street." "A hotel? Why don't we just go to your place?" There. She'd said it. She couldn't believe she'd actually said it, but she had. "Um," he hesitated. "My place is no good. You know I told you I shoot straight and honest? Well, I'm married." "What? You're married? I should have known. So, what is it you want from me, Mr. 'I'm married but not wearing my wedding band'?" "Let me explain," he said. "Today is my birthday. My wife asked me what I wanted as a gift and I told her I wanted to live out a fantasy of mine...that I wanted to go to a bar and pick up a woman. So, that is what I'm doing here." "Let me get this straight," she said. "You told your wife you wanted to pick up some woman at a bar to take to a hotel for the night as your last-call birthday whore?" "Basically, yes," he said with a grin. "And you're telling me she agreed to that?" she asked incredulously. "Yes. Her only stipulations were that I had to come to this bar and that I couldn't bring the woman back to our house." "So you are telling me that you are going to 'change my world' by asking me to go to a cheap hotel for the night to be your whore..." "It isn't a cheap hotel. Actually, it is a very nice hotel, but yes, that is the basic idea. My wife told me I could pick any one woman from the bar and take her to a hotel. I sat here watching you drink and flirt all night and I decided you were the woman I wanted to ask to help me fulfill my birthday fantasy." She just stared him. "So, what do you say?" he asked tentatively. She thought about how crazy this whole thing was. She thought about how hot he'd just made her. She thought about what it would be like to go for it; to give in, to let go, and give this man the birthday of a lifetime. She realized he was still staring at her, waiting for an answer. "Yes," she said simply. A broad smile spread across his face. He held out a hand and helped her out of the chair. As they started to leave he noticed the guy at the bar staring at him. They exchanged glances and the guy gave a quick shake of his head as if to say, "Lucky bastard." They reached the exit door and she quickly spun around and faced him. "What about the kids?" she asked. "I got a babysitter for the night," he replied. "But, honey, how did you know that I was going to be at the bar?" she asked. "Because it couldn't have been a good fantasy if my wife wasn't a part of it," he grinned. "I'll go to the hotel with you," she said with a wink, "but only if you remember that tonight I'm not your wife...I'm your last call birthday whore."