Blowing the Bartender’s Mind
Forget the tip, he gave me his whole cock
He brushed my hair from my face, hips pulsing into my mouth.
“Hey there. How are you doing this afternoon?” The lone bartender, my lover Phil, greeted a gravelly voiced patron. “Afraid everything’s out but draft and fountain soda at the moment. Waiting on repairs.”
Of course they were. Only things he could reach while buried balls deep between my ruby red lips. Which he was. Deliciously so.
And reach them, he did. Poured a perfect lager and handed it over, making small talk with the lone customer at the bar.
And all the while, my tongue swirled along his length, his mushroom tip dragging across the roof of my mouth. He fisted my hair, tugging as I moaned around his delicious pre-cum, tantalizing my taste buds.
“Unnh, yeah, I gotcha there.” Phil gasped out a groan, agreeing with his customer on some trivial topic while relishing the way my hands slid up his shorts to grab his glorious fucking ass.
I sat back on my haunches, his cockshead twitching along my tongue. Lips sliding up his shaft, I drew him to the back of my mouth and flicked my tongue out to lick his balls, dragging him out from between my lips. Three times.
Phil’s fingers tightened in my hair, putting me where he wanted me, hips snapping against my face. My fingertip pressed against his dark entrance, pulsing in rhythm with my mouth.
My eyes flicked up to his, hooded with desire. Two fingers traced the seam of my pussy. My patience was non-existent. Gone. This guy wasn’t leaving. I needed a release. Now.
They slipped into my cunt, three knuckles deep, and curling up to greet my g-spot. It was just what I needed.
I gushed into my hand. Dripped onto the floor. Screamed around his cock.
Fuck. I loved the way this man made me feel.
The daily drinker’s voice filled the near-empty room, his mundane conversation driving me to see how hard I could make Phil cum.
The old man lost his wife the year before. Who was I to begrudge him his visit with Phil?
A quick thrust of Phil’s hips and I gagged on his length. Low mewl rumbled through me. A chuckle above floated down over me.
Whatever. I was feeling too damn good to care.
My lover reached under the bar for a bowl of peanuts, eyes locked on mine. Slow, sensual smile stole across his face. He cupped my cheek and blew me a kiss. I swallowed the head of his cock, past my gag reflex, and pulsed it against the back of my windpipe.
Devilish glint shone in my eyes. I swallowed the spurt of pre-cum he shot down my throat with a grin, his thick dick stretching my lips wide. His pupils dilated until his eyes were almost black.
Phil pushed the bowl towards his patron, who ordered another beer. He drove his cock deeper into my mouth when my finger tapped at that little bundle of nerves in his ass. Loved massaging his p-spot.
So. Fucking. Amazing.
Knuckles white on the edge of the bar, Phil dropped his head. Our gaze met. I watched him shatter under my ministrations, rope after rope of cum streaming down my gullet.
Fingers pumping furiously, I brought myself to another orgasm as my cheeks hollowed and I sucked the life force from Phil’s cock.
He growled as his cock twitched and trembled in my mouth, body convulsing as I quivered at his feet. I sobbed, ecstasy rolling over me in waves. Above me, a low laugh rumbled.
“You okay back there?” That arousal-laden, gravelly voice hit me like a tonne of bricks. Same question every day. My trigger point.
As soon as I heard those words, I came again. Hard. Phil grabbed my head with both hands, holding me still, and fucked my face as I finished us, finger-fucking his ass and my pussy.
Short white hair, Santa-like beard and smiling blue eyes leaned over the counter, a smirk as wide as the ocean aimed at me.
“That was a good one, Shell. He had trouble keeping it together today.” He winked at me, paid his tab and slid off his barstool as I straightened my dress.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. “Just what I needed today.” Lust-filled eyes ate me up. “Goddammit, I wish I were thirty years younger. I’d show you what that mouth was really for.”
I squeezed him back and kissed his cheek, one hand above his heart. “Oh, Don. You’re such a sweet-talker.” I leaned in and stage-whispered, “Me, too, stud.”
He pinched my ass and waved as he headed out the door. Phil wrapped his arms around me, grinning as he pulled me close to his chest.
“Oh, Phil. If I thought he was up to it, I’d offer to blow him tomorrow.” My eyes misted over, thinking of that vibrant man’s celibate life.
“Shell, it would make his day to hear that. Never mind how much he’d love to see you between his thighs with his cock in your hand.” I knew he was right.
“Maybe tomorrow will be his day.” I sat at the bar while he wandered behind it and waggled my eyebrows with a grin. “Always wondered what Don would taste like.”
