The Joy of Joy Ch. 03

Joy kept a finger on her lips, thinking, shifting her eyes back and forth between the two men. Victor found himself glancing at Josh the bartender and making a physical comparison. It didn't add up: they were completely unlike each other.

The Josh guy was fake tanned, fake macho, and kind of buff in a gym kind of way. He had frosted, spiked hair and was wearing a tight t-shirt cut to show sculpted biceps and a typical tribal tattoo. He looked like someone that might be called a 'douchebag.' Victor knew that he, himself, was kind of out of shape, pale, and not well kept up. He'd buzzed his hair short to make life easier, and didn't dress well; for the job, what was the point? He realized with complete certainty he'd let himself go. Not unfixable, but definitely not acceptable.

He was thinking about his need to make some level of change when Joy spoke.

She made a thoughtful, devious face, and said, again, "I tell you what." She shifted on her stool, making her amazing body ripple and move. "I'll do eeny miney and whoever wins gets to take me home."

Victor watched as Josh leaned in, looking very pissed off; he half expected the guy to walk away, but he didn't. Victor suspected the show was more about this Josh guy than himself, and that Joy was up to something. Joy winked at Victor, managing it while Josh had his head turned for a brief moment. Then she started in.

"Eeny, meeney, miney..." she waved a finger at the two men. She paused, then continued. "...moe, catch a..." She rolled her eyes up and smiled. "...pussy... by the toe," she said. Her finger was pointing at Josh, and Victor could see the guy trying to figure out how the game would end.

"If she hollers, let her go," Joy said.

Victor had to move on his stool and take a drink from his bottle, trying to hide and arrange his pounding hardon. He felt somewhat embarrassed by his situation, but couldn't help it. He glanced over and noticed Josh was pressed against the back of the bar, probably trying to do the same thing.

"Eeny, meeney, miney..."

Then she did it: she lifted her other hand, and with one finger extended directly at Josh, she aimed the other squarely into Victor's chest, close enough to brush his shirt.

"...MOE."

She was pointing at them both.

Joy kept her hands stationary for what seemed like a full minute, pointing at the two men. Victor was too shocked to move or say anything, but finally looked over at Josh, and that man's expression was absolutely priceless. He thought, "I could charge admission to that," and the idea of Josh's face as a circus attraction made him come close to laughing out loud, but he held it in. He looked back at Joy, who was looking at him expectantly. She raised an eyebrow, questioning, and he knew she was waiting for some kind of answer or validation.

Victor said, "I'm in."

Josh reared back, flexing his arms in some kind of visceral showing-off behavior. He lifted a bar rag and wiped his hands, then swept it across the rail. He looked very unhappy. Victor tried to remember what the behavior had been called, way back in middle school, something about birds. He remembered. "Aggression displacement." When he knew what he was watching he sat back, amused, and waited for Josh's decision.

Josh pursed his lips, glared at Victor, then faced Joy full on, his face a mask of anger and lust. He finally struggled out a choking, "Okay. I'm cool with that." He sucked in a huge breath. "I'm off in forty-five. Wait." The last word came out like something a villain would say in a bad action movie.

Joy leaned in, showing off her delectable breasts and hiking up her skirt. "I can do that." She licked the tip of one of her fingers and ringed the top of her drink glass. "But I'll need another drink." She laughed, a deep laugh with just a hint of mockery. Josh the bartender grabbed the glass and did his best to dramatically storm off in the limited area of the bar.

Victor was dying to find out what this was all about, but decided to hold it together and not ask. He was certain Joy wasn't going to back out or anything, and if he had to do a threeway to get her naked well, that was how the cards played out. He'd live with it. He looked at her again, and she took his breath away.

"Gorgeous."

Joy looked over at him, a smile, a little smile with a hint of grimness, traveling across her lips and vanishing again. She lowered her head and hiked up her skirt a little. Victor involuntarily looked down, and at the junction of her thighs he could see a triangle of white, lacy panties. Blood rushed into his head, and, not incidentally, into his cock, and he had real worries he might actually come in his pants.

Josh came back with Joy's drink. He set it down too hard, accidentally on purpose, and bright liquid spilled down the sides, glistening in the bad light. Joy smirked, wiped at the mixture, and did a finger-licking exercise again, sucking the concoction off manicured digits.

She said, "Victor needs another beer."

Josh the bartender stomped off to retrieve another bottle, which he delivered with singular bad grace. When the bottle had been smacked down to erupt on the bar, Joy turned to Victor and said, "Now. Where were we?" and for the next forty-five minutes they made small talk, waiting for Josh.

It was just about the longest forty-five minutes of Victor's life.

Joy leaned, touched, exposed, and wriggled. Her shirt opened in buckling fabric waves, showing off her white lacy bra and newly hard nipples. She was obviously turned on, a little buzzed up, and she wanted the show to start. She licked her lips, sucked her straw, and bumped her fine, fine legs against Victor's knees. She whispered, talked, giggled and laughed, and every second she got more and more beautiful and sexually explosive. Victor couldn't sit still and was compelled to shift maddeningly on his seat while Joy watched him squirm, enjoying herself, but in a decidedly amused, not malicious way. She was weirdly friendly and warm, and Victor couldn't figure it out. He made the decision not to care.

Finally, finally, the excruciating time was up, and Josh the bartender stomped over and said, "I'm out." He glared at Victor. "Let's go."