Chloe in the Boy's Roombylorimadison©
"Damn it!" I nearly fall on my ass as I stumble into a pothole. Why do I insist on wearing such high heels when I go out? I lift my foot out of the pothole, my ankle pulsing.
"Shit, my foot's all wet." It's raining again. It always rains here. I dig into the bottom of my snake embossed clutch, scrounging for one last cigarette. As I shuffle through the contents of my evening bag my fingers begin to recognize the shapes, the smooth cylinder of my lipstick case, the rounded metal of the loose change swimming at the bottom. I hear a package of mints rattling furiously as I rip through my purse in desperate need of that cigarette. My hand stops for a moment as I discover a string of condoms inside, about five according to my quick estimate. How many men was I planning to fuck tonight?
"Ah, thank God, I found it." My emergency smoke, I always take the first cigarette from the pack, and hide it away for just such a situation. I place the cigarette between my lips and scan the city around me. The streets look like liquid tar from the constant drizzle. The neon sign from the sex shop across the street casts an orange glow into the air. I light my smoke and take a hard drag. The sweet toxins fill my lungs. It burns a little and I feel alive again.
As I toss my head back and blow smoke into the air, I read the sign above the darkened door in front of me. "Hung Wae Low", the most notorious bar in the city, as famous for it's stiff drinks as it is for it's mafia associations. The hipsters started frequenting the place for the irony of the name and the bad Chinese food. Even I couldn't help but snicker a little as I gazed at the sign. But. I'm here for the stiff drinks and a good fuck. At least the drink is a sure thing.
I take one last drag from my cigarette before squashing it under my stiletto. I lift and press my breasts together. I'm not exactly blessed in that department, but thank God for pushup bras. I tug and smooth the wrinkles of my green tube dress across my tight waist. I work hard six days a week in the gym for this stomach and I'm proud to show it off. I tug the dress a little more across my backside. Men like my ass; it's round, full and strong. I toss my long wavy, brown hair and wet my lips. I'm ready for action.
As I turn the doorknob, I'm hot to make a first impression. I pull the door towards me and my eyes adjust quickly to the darkness. As I shut the door, I gaze up the stairwell leading to the bar. It's a steep incline with a narrow passage. The outlying walls are thick with blackness, but through the shadows I can see a handrail. The air is scented with a spicy perfume of tobacco. I'm hypnotized by the fog of smoke rolling toward me, and I wonder how many drunks have cracked their heads open while stumbling down these stairs at the end of the night.
I begin to make my way up the staircase and I hear a low hum of music and laughter. It grows louder and clearer with each step. I tell myself to be careful, I don't need a repeat of the night's previous fall. Finally I reach the landing at the top of the stairs. It's quite a climb even for someone as fit as me.
I recognize the song on the jukebox. It's Johnny Cash, "Cry, Cry, Cry". Seems appropriate considering my luck in love lately. As I scan the bars patrons, I try to guess who picked the song, it's a game I like to play sometimes. At the bar sits an older man with a tight, clean, gray beard. He wears a plaid shirt with mother of pearl buttons and his hair is fixed in a pompadour style, thick with styling wax. He drinks Old Grand Dad straight. I don't know his name, but I see him here a lot. He's here when I arrive and here when I leave. He never says a word, just smokes his cigarettes and sucks down glass after glass of whiskey. Sometimes he lets out a snort of a chuckle, what he's laughing at I don't know, perhaps his personal thoughts. Maybe he chose the song, but tonight I don't think so.
My eyes zero in on the group of hipsters crowded into the back corner booth next to the pool table. They've got a game of sloppy nine ball going. They're playing for quarters, but they act like sharks. The truth is they're too drunk to give anyone a run for their money. I'll bet they chose the song. Hipsters love Johnny Cash. Not that I mind, I can recall many a night of knockin' back a few shots while listening to him tell his stories.
As I make my way to the bar my eyes wander about the rest of the room. Other than the kids, the old man and myself, the place is empty. I approach the bar and my favorite bartender greets me.
"How's it goin' tonight Trudi?" I've asked her this question a hundred different times; the answer is always the same.
"We had a ruckus in here earlier. Mike had to throw some drunks out on their asses, couldn't hold their liquor. Them kids in the corner are what's left of 'em." Her voice is raspy and rough, like she's two smokes away from a tracheotomy.
"Thanks for the head's up, I'll be sure to steer clear of them." I tell her with an empathetic tone.
"What ya drinkin' honey, a cosmo?" She barks.
"No, not tonight. Makers on the rocks."
"You got it." She grins at me with a snaggle-toothed smile. Tudi is like one of those women who spends most of her life serving up slop to truckers, tough as nails with a pinch of sugar. She's strong enough to kick out the riff raff but sweet enough to keep the regulars comin' back. I guess you'd have to be working here. Trudi brings back my drink, and I hand her the last bit of cash from my purse. I tell her to keep the change. It works out to be a three-dollar tip, way more than the standard for a drink. She works night after night in this hellhole; I figure she deserves something for her troubles.
"Thanks honey!" She chuckles a little as she slide down to the other end to finish her side work. I cozy up to the bar and take a seat adjacent to the old man. I glance over just in time to see him nod his head towards me. I nod back with a half-witted smile and quickly turn back to my whiskey. As I lift the glass and take a swig, I begin to think my chances of getting laid tonight are out of the question.
Just then, out of the corner of my eye, a dim match flame catches my attention. I turn to look and observe a shadowy figure of a man sitting alone in the corner booth. I squint my eyes as I struggle to see any detail. He lights his cigarette and takes a drag. The glowing embers expose the details of his form. He's dressed in a black long-sleeved t-shirt tight enough to reveal the strength of his upper body. The sleeves are pushed up slightly, revealing the colorful tattoos scrawled across his forearms. His hair is dark and neatly groomed with well kept sideburns. They extend to his jaw line, accenting his sharp features. His face is thin with well-defined bone structure. His eyes are dark; yet seem to flash a little.
As he blows the smoke from his lungs, his eyes stay fixed upon me with intent. He leans into his gaze and takes another drag. My stomach jumps into my throat as I wonder what he wants. His eyes never leave me. He smashes his cigarette in the ashtray and stands to cross the barroom floor. He's headed straight towards me.
"Oh God, here he comes!" I fumble in my seat trying to over-come my nerves. As he approaches I take a big gulp of my whiskey, hoping it will calm me. He slides into the seat next to me; I keep my gaze forward and pretend not to notice him. I feel his eyes less than six inches from my body fixed like a laser beam. I can't resist any longer. I turn to acknowledge him. As I face him, his hand is already extended with an open pack of cigarettes.
"You look like you could use one of these." His voice is like gravel.
"Actually, I could, I smoked my last one just before I came in here." I'm feeling more confident as I place the cigarette between my lips. He strikes a match and leans dangerously close to light my smoke. As I puff away, I gaze up at him with a schoolgirl come-hither stare.
What are ya drinkin'?"He gruffs.
"Whiskey." My voice is raspy from the smoke. My boy motions to Trudi to bring me another round.
"What about you?" I inquire.
"What about me?" He lights another cigarette.
"What are you drinking?"
"I never drink."
"Interesting you should come here."
"I come here to think sometimes."
"Really!" I reply, a little taken back. "I've never seen you here before." He smiles as he blows smoke into the air.
"I see you here all the time." His statement shocks me as I swallow the lump in my throat. I wonder to myself how many times has he seen me here; once, three times, all the time? I've spent many nights here so drunk I could barely make the six block walk back to my apartment. Had he seen me like that too? I try to hide my embarrassment as I flip my hair across my shoulder and think of something witty to say.
"So are you stalking me?"
"What if I was?"
"Well that explains all those late night, heavy breathing phone calls."
"Yeah, I stand at the phone booth across the street from your apartment and wait for the light to go off."
"Seriously, if you've seen me here before, why wait until now to come talk to me?"
"You always seemed a bit preoccupied." He smugly motions to my whiskey. I want to be offended but how can I, he is right. I'm restless and have to get up. I grab my drink and chug what's left. As I slam the glass down on the bar, I stand to excuse myself.
"Well, nice chatting' with ya." I wink before I begin to walk away.
"What's the matter baby, did I say something wrong?" His voice is confident, yet smug. The trouble is, he says everything right. It doesn't matter what words come out of his mouth. His look, his voice, and the way he invades my personal space, even the smell of his after-shave makes my clit throb.
I walk across the bar toward the restrooms. I flip my hair to look back and I flash a half smile with bedroom eyes. I turn the corner to head down the hall and stop to catch my breath. My heart is racing. I haven't felt this excited about a man in months. It's not just his appearance, but mostly the way he looks at me. I see the intent behind his eyes. I imagine him getting me alone and taking me however he pleases. The idea of his strong hands grabbing at my body makes my panties wet.
I tug at my dress and gather my thoughts as I swing open the door to the ladies room. I squint my eyes and look to see if anyone else is there. The room is clean and brightly lit in contrast to the dark bar. I guess the owners didn't want their patrons falling into puddles of urine during their drunken stupor. The door closes and I head straight for the sink. I stare at my reflection in the mirror and ponder the possibilities with my boy. I close my eyes and picture his face buried in my cunt. I can almost feel his tongue pressed against my hot flesh.
My excitement for him overwhelms me. I press my body hard against the edge of the sink as I try to catch my breath. I have to get this man into my bed tonight, but how? He likes to play games and he plays them well. Which game will get him to fuck me? I fluff my hair and put my game face on as I head for the bathroom door. For the first time in a long time I have no idea what will happen next.
I open the door and there he is, leaning into the wall, one foot up against it, cigarette in his mouth. I'm startled by his presence, but quickly calmed by his flashing eyes.
"What are you doing?" My tone is slightly annoyed as I continue our little game.
"Waiting for you." The smoke escapes his mouth like a drifting fog as he speaks.
"Oh really, I figured you would have grown tired of me and left by now." He takes another drag and holds it in his lungs as he walks over to me. I lean back against the wall as he approaches. He puts a hand on the wall above my head and the other just next to my hip. Damn it; he's got me trapped. I squirm slightly as he once more leans in dangerously close. Without a word he stares into my eyes, and I'm instantly settled. He turns his head to blow out the smoke. Turning back, he leans in closer and flashes a half smile.
"I'm not done with you yet." My heart races like a schoolgirl playing spin the bottle for the first time. But I know what happens next.
"Come here, I wanna show you something." He takes my hand. His touch is smooth and gentle. He leads me to the men's restroom. Slowly pushing on the door, he looks back for my approval. My demeanor is submissive and I say nothing. I give him a nod and we stumble our way inside. It's just as clean and bright as the ladies room, the only difference is the urinal located just outside the stall.
The door swings shut behind us. My boy whips around and he's quick to spring into action. In a flash, I feel the force of his body pressing against mine as he maneuvers me against the wall. With one hand he holds my arms above my head while he explores my body with the other. His touch is fierce, like a man who knows what he wants. Yet, somehow he's gentle at the same time. My mind is at ease as I feel his warm breath across the nape of my neck. I close my eyes and explore my body through his touch. His hand travels across my hip, and I'm reminded of how many men tell me what a nice ass I have. His hand hesitates as it travels toward my backside.
"Go ahead, grab it!" I demand, half out of breath. He grabs a good piece and squeezes hard and slow as he breathes in. He holds it for a moment then releases my cheek, rubbing it slightly before his hand continues its journey. My boy slowly slides his hand down my legs and begins tugging at my dress. I feel like a teenager again, fucking around in the boy's room after school. My blood pulses through my veins. I'm not sure if it's the alcohol or him. He pushes my dress up past my hip and slides his hand between my thighs. I feel the heat of my body radiating against him. Staring straight into my eyes, he rubs the fabric of my panties against my clit. He presses his body firmly against mine as I throw my head back and release a muffled moan. Why hasn't he kissed me yet? I crave his tongue inside my mouth as much as my pussy craves his cock. I desire for every inch of my body to be filled by him. He leans into me and I whisper in his ear.
"I want to feel your tongue in my mouth."
"I've got something better for you." He gently pulls my panties aside and slides his middle finger inside me. He rests his palm against my well-groomed bush as he slowly fucks me with his finger. I feel a rush of fluid in my cunt as he leans his body into mine with each stroke. God I want to shove my tongue down his throat more than ever, but he just stares into my eyes with the same intent as before. I grab him by the collar and draw him close.
"Wait" I'm being coy. "Now I wanna show you something." He gladly steps aside as I make my way to the stall. I don't bother to fix my dress; I want him to see the view as I walk away. I open the stall and flash a smile over my shoulder. I turn and take a seat on the toilet as he steps a little closer. I slide my panties down around my ankles and toss them in his face.
"Take it out."
"You heard me." I'm still playing the game. I watch him slowly undo his zipper. I wet my lips in anticipation. He pulls his cock through the opening and gives it a slight tug. It swells with desire. I spread my legs and give him a show worth remembering. Opening my pussy lips, I imagine his dick entering me. My flesh pulses hard. I explore the outer edges of my cunt with my finger. The skin is smooth and hot. I hear my boy prowling outside the stall like a tiger ready to pounce. Through the corner of my eye, I flash him a sultry gaze as I tease the inside of my pussy with my fingertip. My cunt is so wet my finger slides in easily. I rub the juice of my sex along my soft pink lips. I know he wants me desperately, just as I want him. I close my eyes and toss my head back as I open myself to him even more.
Suddenly, he moves towards me, and I feel his hot breath against my neck. Opening my eyes, I see him towering above me. He leans in, stroking his hard cock inches from my face. I continue to finger myself, getting wetter by the second. I open my mouth and tease the tip of his dick with my tongue. The head is smooth and hot. A small taste of his sex drips into my mouth, making me desire him even more. I can barely contain my excitement as I shove my finger deep inside me in anticipation of his throbbing member. My boy slides down my body and presses the head of his cock against my soft lips. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him into me. My cunt is so wet, his cock slips right in. I gasp as he enters me. His hard cock stretches my lips with each thrust.
"Push it deep." I moan as his body presses further into mine. Quickly, he rips himself from my clutches and I'm startled by his actions.
"Stand up and turn around." He demands. I don't question him. I grip the back of the commode with my hands and spread my legs wide in a strong stance. I can't stand to be with out his cock one more second. My boy shoves it in hard and fast. I've never felt a cock harder than this. It pulses inside me with each push. He pulls it out just to the edge of my cunt, still playing his game.
"Do you want it?" he whispers in a low, gruff voice.
"Shove it back in!" I plead, out of breath. He grabs my hips and pulls me into his groin. I love how he feels inside me. My pussy lips gently squeeze his dick as he fills me again. His thrusts become harder and faster. I know he's getting close. I feel the rhythm of his body and I circle my hips to match. He enters me deeper than ever. His fingers dig into my flesh as I throw my head back in ecstasy. Our breath moves quickly together and I know he's ready to cum.
"Cum on my ass!" I shout. I don't want to miss a moment. He pull's it out and shoots his sex all over my backside. A little gets on my dress, but I don't mind. It's warm and satisfying against my flesh. He leans against my body, shaking as he catches his breath.
"I need a smoke." He puts his cock back in his pants. "You want one?"
"No thanks, I'm good." Still out of breath, I wipe off his mess and pull my dress back into place. As I stand to make my way to the sink, my boy grabs me and pulls me close.
"I have one more thing for you." He draws me in close and our lips lock aggressively. His tongue slides into my mouth filling me one last time. As he pulls away, we gaze at one another with satisfaction. " I'll meet you outside, I need some air."
"Sure." I nod and smile. I know I'll never see him again. I quickly pull myself together. I wash my hands and smirk at myself in the mirror. I got what I wanted. I timidly open the bathroom door and peek out to make sure no one sees. I walk down the hall in a daze and enter the main room of the bar. The hipsters are gone, the old man too. How long were we in there? No sign of my boy. Trudi comes around from the end of the bar, busy closing up.
"You headin' home honey?" She pretends not to know what just happened and I play along.
"Yeah, I'm done for tonight."
"See ya next time." She waves me off.
"Sure thing Trudi." I'll never see her or the bar again. I make my way down the dark staircase, careful not to fall. As I open the door, I look side to side in the hopes of one last glimpse of my boy. He's gone. Tugging at my dress, I take a step forward and think of my bed. What about tomorrow night?