Abby Rode

Michael was waiting for me in an unfamiliar car, just outside. At first, I wasn't sure it was him, but he flashed his lights as soon as I stepped outside. I'm sure I looked like a prostitute meeting her "John."

"New old car?" I asked, as it looked like one my dad owned from the 1970's, complete with a bench front seat.

"Borrowing it for the weekend," Michael said, looking me over. He smiled and opened his pants so he could release his forming erection. "Hungry?"

He came and I swallowed, twice in the twenty minutes it took to get from the porn shop to wherever it was we were going.

When I sat back up, I checked my makeup in the visor mirror, closed my purse, and looked around trying to figure out where we were.

"You can leave your stuff in the car," Michael said. "You won't need anything but what you have on."

"What about my purse... and my phone?" I asked.

"You can leave those, too," Michael said. "Just put them in the bag. They'll be safe."

"How will you know when to pick me up?" I asked.

"They'll call me," Michael said.

"They?" I asked, confused because I thought this was a date with an older gentleman.

One - older gentleman.

"It was going to be just one old guy, but he doubted he'd get to nut more than a few times and wanted to make it worth your while," Michael said, finally tucking away his half-erect dick.

"Considerate of him," I said, placing my phone in my purse.

"Don't forget the ring," Michael added.

I looked at Michael as I took off my wedding ring. I placed it in a side pocket in my purse, and then placed my purse in the bag with my house clothes. I had never taken my ring off since marrying Ron. Even while I was getting fucked by Kevin, Ron's boss knew he was fucking a married woman. The times I jerked off and gave the occasional blowjobs to the dicks poking through the glory holes with Ron watching, I always wore my ring. This was about to be something different.

When I stepped out of the car, I wasn't supposed to be married and in my early thirties. I was supposed to be a college girl, again. Single. Impressionable. Horny.

"What is this place?" I asked as I dwelled on not having my phone.

"An old VFW hall. Changed owners a few times," Michael said. "Now, it's just a quiet, little bar with a few old guys and a few bar flies. They can get rowdy, though, so don't let their grandpa act fool you."

"Are they safe?" I asked.

"More or less," Michael smiled. "A little kinky, but I figured you might like that."

"How kinky?" I asked, my mouth watering for some unexplained reason.

"They think I'm bringing them a college girl, just out of high school," Michael said. "You'd definitely look it if we gave you a school girl outfit, but it would have looked like you were trying too hard.

Too obvious. Instead, you're dressed like that so you look like you're trying to look over twenty-one, get it?"

I nodded. "So, I'm a girl with daddy issues?" I asked.

"Something like that," Michael said. "Maybe a horny college freshman with daddy issues. Can you handle that?"

I nodded. I knew girls like that, but hadn't been one myself - as far as I knew.

"How are they going to last long enough for me to be out all night?" I asked, thinking this wasn't going to take very long. "And how many are there?"

"Just two or three. Okay, maybe four. Oh, and don't let their old age fool you," Michael said. "They've been around once or twice, and just might surprise you."

My heart was pounding. I wondered if Linda ever got this excited before a "date." She must have.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few hours, and if I'm wrong and you're not having a good time, I'll take you back to your minivan," Michael motioned for me to open the door. "But, I doubt that'll be the case."

Michael looked around, pointed to a door on the side of the building, and said, "Ask for Little John."

"My date?" I asked before closing the door.

"Yep, one of them," Michael said. "Have fun, Abby - and remember to act like a college girl with daddy issues. Oh, and don't get drunk."

"What's wrong with having a few drinks?" I asked, remembering how I had been drinking ginger ale all night at the office party and pretending to be on the verge of alcohol poisoning. For my size, when I really did drink, I thought I handled my alcohol pretty well.

"They're dirty old men, Abby. You'll figure it out," Michael said, pulling the door closed and waiving goodbye.

The side door to the establishment was locked when I pulled on the handle. I turned to look at Michael, but he was already pulling away.

I knocked, and waited. I didn't realize how cold it was outside until knocking a third time with no response. I walked to one side of the building, and then the other, and didn't see any parked cars. I wondered if Michael took me to the wrong place, and I started to panic. Then, someone finally opened the door. It startled me so much I almost jumped.

"Can I help you, missy?" an old man said.

"I'm here for... to meet Little John," I stammered.

"Oh, yes, yes... come in," the old man said. "You must be freezing in that little outfit."

"It's a little colder than I thought it would be," I said, allowing him to hold the door open for me.

I heard him lock the door behind me.

"Yes, yes... come in, missy. Little John has been looking forward to meeting you," the old man said. He must have been in his late 60's, short white hair, maybe on the frail side the way he was hunched over, and probably an inch shorter than me with heels.

"You can call me Abby," I said.

"Is that your name, or is that what you want to be called?" the old man said. He waited for a moment, laughed to himself, and said, "I'm just funnin' you. I'm Mort. Bartender, and custodian of this old place."

"Hi, Mort," I said. "My name really is Abby."

"Abby, are you even old enough to be in a bar?" Mort asked.

"Ummm, y-yes?" I stammered. Mort just smiled.

"Good enough for me, not that it would help to ask you for ID," Mort looked me over. "Doesn't look like you brought any, unless you're hiding it somewhere," he smiled with a twinkle in his eye.

"No," I said. "Guess I forgot."

I followed Mort down a few stairs until they opened up to a large room complete with a long bar, pool tables, pinball games, Foosball table, shuffleboard, and jukebox. Everything was easily fifty years old, but clean, and well-maintained. I wondered if the same could be said for the bar patrons.

The bar was almost completely empty. There were only two men sitting at the bar; one rather large gentleman, and the other about the same size as Mort. I wondered which one was Little John. They dressed like businessmen - nice shirts, nice pants, nice shoes, but no ties or jackets, as if they had just removed them after getting off work at some white collar job.

"Excuse me," I said in a voice a little higher-pitched than normal. Completely unintentional.

They both turned inward to look at me.

"Umm, Hi. Would either of you happen to be Little John?" I asked with an expectant smile.

They both looked at each other and grinned.

"I wish," the large man said, looking me over.

"He's in the restroom, sweetie," the other man said. "Can we get you a drink while you wait?"

The smaller man moved to the bar stool to his right and motioned to the empty seat between him and the larger man.

I accepted.

Mort appeared on the other side of the bar and asked, "What'll you have, Abby?"

"I don't know," I said shyly. "What's good?"

"Abby, huh?" the little old man to my right asked. "I'm Cecil. The fella on your left is Jerry, but we all call him Fat Ass." Cecil and Mort chuckled to each other.

"Pleased to meet you Cecil," I said, holding out my hand. He shook it gently, and then I turned to Fat Ass on my left. "Pleased to meet you, Jerry."

"Are you sure you're old enough to drink... Abby?" Jerry asked.

"Ummm, yes?" I said again, sounding not so sure this time.

"I'm having a Gin and Tonic," Jerry said. "Cecil is having his usual Old Fashioned."

"Can I try yours?" I asked, happy the "naive redhead with dumb blonde highlights act" seemed to be working.

Jerry put the stirring straw back in the glass and made me lean over to take a sip. Looking in the mirror behind the bar, I could see Cecil's eyes were fixated on my butt.

"I like that," I said. Mort nodded, and proceeded to make one for me.

"So, how'd you meet Little John?" Jerry asked.

"I haven't met him, yet, silly," I said.

Jerry looked at me like there was no way I could be that stupid, so I added, "A friend from school said he was a nice guy that I would probably like to meet."

"And why is that?" Cecil asked. "Don't you have some high school boys chasing after you?"

"College, and no," I said, taking the drink from Mort and smiling a thank you to him. "I just broke up with my boyfriend, and decided that I'd like to try meeting someone a little more mature."

I sipped my drink through the tiny straw, and forgot what I was drinking. Cecil put his left hand on my right leg, and Jerry put his right hand on my left leg. They both pulled ever so slightly, and I shifted on the bar stool as if I didn't notice. I didn't want them to get discouraged, though.

I let them spread my legs, but only a little.

"Wow, that's strong!" I said.

"I see you've already gotten yourself a drink," a voice said behind me.

I turned, pulling away from the hands on my legs and stepped off the bar stool to greet Little John.

"Hi, I'm Abby," I held out my hand.

"Little John," he replied, taking my hand, kissing it like a gentleman, and then sliding his hand down to my waist. "You're a little thing, aren't you?"

I let him look. Then I looked at him the same way.

"The name doesn't suit you," I said, taking in his large frame. Where Jerry was large and fat, Little John was large, wide, and just a little mean-looking. Maybe not mean... but, rough. Like he had a hard life, but he didn't let it stop him from enjoying the finer, half-naked things when they were standing right in front of him.

"Cecil, why don't you play something on the jukebox?" Little John asked. Except, he wasn't really asking.

Cecil got up from his bar stool and sauntered over to the beautiful machine.

"What do you want to hear?" Cecil asked.

"What do you want to hear, Abby?" Little John asked.

"I don't know... something fun, or something I can dance to, maybe?" I said, innocently.

"Why don't you go help Cecil out," Little John said. "He doesn't know anything after 1975, but the assholes that owned this place before Mort started working here threw in some newer stuff you might like."

"Okay," I said with a smile.

I stepped away from the bar and was surprised that one drink had already made me tipsy. I didn't think it was that strong, but I was definitely feeling it by the time I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Cecil.

I picked out a few songs that I was surprised they had, and then looked around the room.

"Cecil, do you know how to play pool?" I asked.

"Of course, missy," Cecil said. "Do you want to play?"

"I don't really know how," I lied. "Would you teach me?"

Cecil nodded, smiling.

Of the three tables off to the side of the bar, I pointed to the one that had the most light and was most visible to Little John, Jerry, and Mort.

"How about that one?" I asked Cecil.

"Oh, that's as good as any, I suppose," Cecil said.

"Good. I just need to use the little girl's room before we start, though. Okay?" I asked.

"We don't have one of those, but the restroom is down the hall to the right of the bar," Cecil said.

"Okay, I'll only be a minute," I said.

"Take your time," Cecil said. "Should I get you another drink?"

"That'd be sweet of you. Thanks," I said.

The restroom was surprisingly clean. Not spotless, but certainly cleaner than I had expected, and well-lit. I wondered why they didn't have a separate ladies room, and then realized with as busy as this place was on a Friday night, they probably didn't need one.

Three stalls. Three urinals. Three sinks.

I went to one of the stalls and peed what little bit I could, although that wasn't really why I wanted to use the restroom.

I stepped out of my panties, stepped out of the stall, and hung them on the corner of the mirror over the middle sink. I checked my makeup, my hair, and my dress. Earlier in the video booth, the dress didn't really look see-through. In the light of the bar bathroom, I realized it actually was. The men had probably been enjoying the sight of my pierced nipples the whole time.

I could also see that the small white triangle above my hairless pussy was now easily visible through the thin fabric of the dress. If there was any doubt in anyone's mind about my willingness to fool around, I hoped that would clear things up.

I wasn't sure I was pulling off "under twenty-one" but I was certainly not looking like a thirty-something mother of two. Maybe early twenties. Good enough.

And, with their old eyes, I figured I probably looked even younger.

Despite the blowjob I gave Michael on the way, my makeup still looked good. My nail polish on my fingernails and toenails was still perfect. The tan was working for me, and my hair looked better than it had in months. Of all the times Michael or Ron weren't around with a camera. I wondered if I'd ever look this hot again.

"Time to get fucked by a bunch of horny old men," I said in the mirror.

As I turned to walk out of the restroom, I thought about taking off the dress, too, and walking into the bar naked. I was practically naked, anyway.

Instead, I figured I would tease a little longer, or at least as long as I could.

"Pace yourself, Abby," I said to my reflection, echoing something Linda had told me.

I'm not sure I could have smiled any wider when I walked back into the bar area. I walked over to Little John, gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "I'm going to play some pool with Cecil if that's okay?"

"That's fine," Little John said.

"Want to join us?" I asked.

"In a bit," Little John said. "For now, I think I'll just sit right here and enjoy the view."

I hoped it wouldn't be long before he was getting more than just a view, though. I was definitely becoming aroused.

Cecil had already racked the balls and had another Gin and Tonic waiting for me on a high shelf next to the pool cues. I reached up for my drink and could feel the bottom of the dress pull up, completely exposing the bottom half of my butt cheeks. I pretended not to notice, and left it that way.

Looking in the mirrors that lined the walls near the pool tables, I could see Little John noticed. So did everyone else, but nobody said anything. They just let me play.

Cecil knew the game, and was actually very good. He missed a few shots, intentionally leaving the cue ball in such a position that I would have to lean over the table to make my next shot, and I played along.

I knew they had to have seen my small, jeweled butt plug at some point, but I was doing my best to not be obvious about it. I even pulled the dress down after one shot just to see if there would be any sign of disappointment on their faces. There was.

I let it ride up again, and again I left it there. Their smiles quickly returned.

Cecil let me win, and I did a little jump in celebration like a giddy school girl, bringing the bottom of the dress up high enough to allow an unobstructed view of my wet pussy lips. Jerry obviously liked that as he had to adjust his growing bulge in response. Little John barely seemed to notice, though.

Then, a song played on the jukebox that I remembered dancing to at someone's wedding. I tried to remember how I danced, because Ron had told me half the guys were undressing me with their eyes while I was on the dance floor. The other half were getting scolded by their wives or dates.

Minimal arm movements. Minimal leg movements. Hands close to my body. A sexy sway. It was coming back to me.

I stepped to an open area which I guessed was as good a dance floor as this place was going to get.

I motioned for Little John to join me, and after Jerry motioned that if Little John didn't get out there, he would, Little John slowly got off his bar stool.

Little John was no dancer.

Instead, he let me dance around him, and I let him touch me with his large, warm hands.

He'd smile. I'd laugh, and then dance around him.

He pulled me close to him a few times, and I pulled myself up to kiss his cheek. He pulled me close again, lifting me off the floor, and I kissed his neck.

When he bent down to kiss me on the mouth, I reached down and brushed my hand across his groin.

"You're making my cock hard, Abby," Little John said somewhat unexpectedly.

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked.

"It's a naughty thing," Little John said. "Just like that naughty little jewelry you have nestled between your cute, little butt cheeks."

"I'm a naughty girl," I smiled, playing along.

"It would appear so," Little John said, smiling slightly. "Well, you know what naughty girls get?" Little John asked.

I almost said, "fucked?"

Then I almost said "your cock?" but decided to just look puzzled - and a little drunk, because I was.

"A spanking," Little John answered.

My clit instantly swelled and began to throb.

"Do you want to give my cute, little butt a spanking, Little John?" I purred.

"I'm going to do more than that, Abby," Little John grinned. "A lot more."

"Promise?" I whispered in his ear while rubbing his groin, again.

I expected to find a growing bulge between his legs. What I felt was a hard lump extending down his right pants leg halfway down to his knee. It was easily as wide as my forearm.

"Oh, wow," was about all I could say.

"Yeah," Little John said. "You want that?"

"Oh, wow," I said, again. "Is that all you?"

"Oh yeah," Little John said. "All me. Think you can handle it?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "You're so big!"

I had planned on using that line, anyway. But, I hadn't planned on actually meaning it.

My pussy was already aching to be fucked.

I'd handled big cocks, before, on much younger guys in better shape and with longer stamina than me.

Something about Little John and his friends, though, gave my stomach butterflies.

"Lose the dress," Little John said softly.

"Here?" I asked. "Now? In front of everyone?"

"Yeah," Little John said. "It did it's job. Set the tone. It left little to the imagination, anyway. But keep dancing. I like the way you dance, naughty girl."

"What if more people show up?" I asked, taking my arms out of the shoulder straps and inching the dress down my body.

"The more the merrier, right?" Little John said, grinning.

"Not exactly the first date I was expecting, Little John," I said, letting the dress fall to the floor and stepping out of it. I bent over to pick it up, knowing Jerry, Cecil, and Mort would get another great view of my nice legs and sparkling jewelry between my butt cheeks.

"Shoes, too?" I asked.

"You can leave them on for now," Little John said. "The floor is probably a little cold."

I walked toward Jerry and Mort and placed my dress on the bar.

"Don't let me leave without this, okay?" I asked Mort.

Mort just nodded, staring at my pierced nipples. Taking a quick glance in the mirror, I could see Jerry and Cecil looking at my butt and legs as I walked past them.

I walked back to Little John, who had moved a little closer to the bar, and I resumed dancing around him. The songs I had picked eventually ended, and the jukebox started playing random oldies which I couldn't dance to. Mort turned down the volume, but let the jukebox play.

Little John motioned for us to move back to the bar, and I watched as Jerry, Mort, and Cecil gave me their full attention. Cecil was practically drooling.