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Happy Hour part 2
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Happy Hour part 2 My mouth<b> agape </font></b>and my eyes peeled back widely, as I instantly assessed my situation, albeit through a thickening fog of inebriation, four quick shots of Tequila on an empty stomach, flooding my veins with judgement impairing juice. The man who snuggled up against me as I sat at the bar, slyly cupping my breast with one hand while working his other hand under the hem of my sundress, was not my husband. I scanned my recent memory for clues, I just left my hubby and our friends at a table a few tables away from the bar. How did I end up seated at the bar with a stranger’s index finger tracing the outline of my pussy hole under my dress. My eyes raced around the bar looking for them. I located the table where I thought we were sitting but it was filled with a bunch of middle-aged former jocks guzzling beer, and they had been there awhile. I felt like I was having an out of body experience, sitting on the bar, watching myself frozen in the embrace of a stranger, being fingered and groped without questioning or resisting. My face was turned toward him, over my shoulder, our noses jousting playfully, my lips unconsciously parted in confusion, as I looked for my hubby and our friends. Then his tongue unexpectedly stabbed into my mouth, prying open my jaw, just as his hand released its grasp of my left breast and palmed the back of my head like a basketball, forcing our lips together in a tight seal, jamming his tongue into me, probing my soft warm mouth. His abruptness caught me between breaths and I suddenly felt lightheaded from lack of air, or maybe it was the Tequila coursing through my veins, I couldn’t tell. As our tongues played cat and mouth between our sealed lips, his index finger pushed into my slickening pussy while his thumb kneaded my pleasure button. My response was instant and instinctual, I sucked on his tongue, raking it with my teeth. The heat between us was chemical and an explosion was imminent. I spun around on my bar stool and pulled him in between my open legs, giving his fingers better access while hopefully blocking everyone’s view. He pushed in closer. My legs hooked around the back of his thighs. He could’ve penetrated me with his cock had he not been wearing jeans. But he had zipper. And I called to me. My hand dropped down between us, grabbing at his inflating coil encased by his jeans. Unexpectedly, I felt someone tapping on my shoulder from behind me. It was the bartender, with an overall disapproving look on his face but wicked glint in his wink, he asked us to either order more drinks or get a room. I flushed red with embarrassment. The realization that I was making out with a total stranger in a restaurant that I frequent, and I didn’t seem to care that anyone looking knew where his hand was and what he was up to, unleashed a shudder of shame. Spinning around on my stool to face the bar, my elbows dropped to the bar and my face fell into my open hands to hide my face. What was I doing? Hearing the heavy clunk of shot glasses hitting the bar in front of me, I lifted my face from my hands, combed my hair back from my face into a loose pony tail, and stared down at the Tequila shots lined up like drunken soldiers. I looked up at the smiling bartender and pleadingly drew in a breath to decline, when two men, one on either side of me reached in for their shots squeezing me in with them. I exhaled completely. They took their shots and motioned with a lasso like circling finger, ordering another round. Who were these guys, two new faces, and where did the guy who was kissing me go? Again I scanned the bar for my hubby and my friends and now my anonymous kisser-guy, I guess he’s my date. With a heavy clunk and clink of shot glasses, more Tequila arrived. I meekly and tentatively pushed my hand away above the bar, announcing that I’d had my fill. Instead, a lime wedge was placed between my teeth and as the empty shock glass hit the bar, forceful lips covered my mouth, sealing the openings between us, Tequila from his mouth mixing with the lime in mine. I stood up. It was time to go. I would Uber home, if necessary. I wobbled a bit but two sets of strong hands clenched around biceps, holding me up, almost lifting me off my feet, one of my sandals, dangled from my big toe, the only one touching the floor. I was floating away from the bar, through the crowd behind us, the bar patrons parting as our threesome walked away three abreast, a waif-like woman between two large men. I saw a booth by the exit and presumed that was our destination. But we passed it and walked out into the warm humid night air. At this point, I was a little pissed that I’d been ditched by my hubby and my friends. But I had two new friends with me now, and maybe a third, if he looked outside. So I was content to see what the night had to offer. We turned at the corner of the restaurant and into a dark walkway between the buildings. As they released me, I felt my full weight on my feet again. We were only a few feet into the shadows but obscured in almost total darkness. I could hear the revelry inside the restaurant through the brick wall and see the comings and goings of passersby on the sidewalk. I turned toward my new friends and leaned against the bricks, lifting a bent knee and placing the sole of my sandal against the wall, in my best cum-hither pose. My hem riding up to mid-thigh. I combed my hair back with my fingers, interlacing my fingers and a tangled hair behind my head, my elbows spread wide, hoisting my breasts upward and outward, my thin sundress clinging to my moist perspiring skin. The outline of my hard nipples could be easily seen even in the darkness. My offer was plain and simple. My invitation was quickly accepted. And the first button of my sundress was quickly undone, followed by the second, then next until I stood before them with my dress parted above my knees. I kept my hands behind my head and parted my feet widely. Until my arms came down, the straps of my dress would stay on my shoulders. The first mouth found my naked nipple and sucked it in deeply, nipping at its hardened tip with his teeth. I was so hot for cock that my body involuntarily twisting at the waist, gyrating and beckoning. When his buddy pulled him away from nipple, I could see his buddy had unzipped his shorts and freed his one-eyed beast. And it looked angry, its skin shiny in its tautness, pulsing and veiny, capped by swelling purple helmet, bobbing and weaving, like a snake. He stood before me and pushed downward on my shoulders, encouraging me to slide down the wall to meet his cock, eye to eye. Squatting, my knees wide and pussy lips parted, I still had my hands interlaced behind my head. I was determined to keep my dress on, albeit open all the way down. His he playfully waved his cock in front of my open mouth like a fishing rod, almost touching my lips, then whipping it away. When I lunged at it, I teetered on my toes, drunk and with my hands behind my head, my balance was soon lost and I fell forward impaling my mouth on his swollen peg with my arms flailing wildly until they found their supportive perch on his ass cheeks. My straps fell to my elbows and my dress fell to the ground in pile of fabric under my ass. I was now essentially naked in an alley, deepthroating a total stranger, a few steps from a crowded restaurant, while his buddy watched. But he wasn’t watching for long. Soon his cock was out of his pants too, as he stroked it to readiness. My face buried in pubic hair, I blindly grabbed for the second cock, and found it, and a third. To be continued? |
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6/7/2018 3:30 pm |
very nice ... do tell ...
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