Barb at 21

Barb waited for Ken to open the door for her. As she stepped out, Ken caught a glimpse of her beautiful legs and feet, and knew all eyes were going to be on her as soon as she walked in the bar.

Barb remembered what her Aunt Dori had said about things getting out of hand, and the risks involved. But, she felt safe as long as Ken was there.

The bar seemed smaller than Barb had remembered. There was less smoke, more lights, and the music wasn't nearly as loud.

"Is this the same place?" Barb asked.

"Yep," Ken replied. "What a difference a year or so makes, huh? Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"Not yet," Barb answered. "We just got here. Let's stay for a drink or two."

Ken helped Barb with her long coat, and was impressed with her little dress. In the bright light, he could clearly see through the dress, and could even see the darker color of her areolas. When she turned away from the light, though, the dress looked normal. Still cold from the walk from the car to the bar, her nipples formed perfect points under the fabric.

Clay walked through a door behind the bar and greeted Ken with a handshake and a wink. Ken introduced Clay to Barb, and then walked into the back room with Barb's coat.

"Understand it's your 21st birthday, today?" Clay said.

"Did Ken tell you?" Barb pouted. "Actually, tomorrow. Nobody was supposed to know. I was trying to look like a hot 30 year-old wife."

"You look hot, alright," Clay smiled. "Yeah, he told me, but don't worry. You secret is safe with me. Just have a good time tonight, and let me know if you need anything."

"How about a drink?" Barb asked.

"Make that two," Ken said as he came out from the back room.

Ken ordered rum and Cokes, easy on the rum, and Clay slid them across the bar.

"What's with the bright lights?" Ken asked.

"I was just cleaning up the place. Slow afternoon," Clay answered. "I'll turn them back down in a bit."

Ken looked around the bar, slightly disappointed that there weren't more patrons.

"Don't worry," Clay said. "The Happy Hour crowd just left. There'll be a few more regulars, soon."

Clay couldn't help but notice Barb's erect nipples trying to force their way through her dress.

"You cold, or just horny?" Clay asked, half jokingly.

"Maybe a little bit of both," Barb smiled.

Clay smiled nervously, wondering if anyone else was aware of the bulge forming in the front of his pants... or the wet spot. He grabbed a broom and dust pan, looked around to see if anyone needed drinks, and set off to do the nightly clean-up a few hours early.

Clay swept while his waitress and fellow bartender, Stacy, wiped down tables. Within a few minutes, they were satisfied with their work and returned to their places behind the bar. The lights dimmed a moment later, making for a few uneasy seconds where Barb thought she was passing out.

Ken counted only a dozen other people in the bar. Four guys barely older than Barb played pool, four older, rough-looking guys sat in a booth with two genuine, thirty-something bar sluts, and two even older gentleman sat at the bar, sipping bourbon, seemingly unaware of their surroundings. None of them appeared to be wearing orange wristbands.

"Clay seems nice," Barb said to Ken. "Have you known him long?"

"He was a friend of my dad's," Ken answered.

"And Stacy?" Barb added.

"I don't know her," Ken said. "Smoked too much, and spent too much time in the sun when she was younger. But, Clay trusts her to run the place when he's taking care of this and that, so she must be okay."

Barb sipped at her drink while she took in the atmosphere. Ken left to use the restroom, and Barb considered going with him. Then, the four rough-looking guys got up from their booth with the two bar sluts. Two of the guys escorted the two women out of the bar, and didn't come back. The other two took notice of Barb and took positions on either side of her at the bar. After ordering themselves and Barb another round, they invited her to join them back at the booth.

"Maybe in a minute," Barb answered.

"What?" one of the men said. "Is that guy in the can your husband or boyfriend or something?"

"My pencil-dicked husband's at home," Barb answered. She motioned her head toward the restrooms. "He's the guy fucking me tonight."

"Why stop at one?" the other rough man said.

"Hmmm," Barb answered while shifting her legs, distracting both men from her chest for a moment. "Good question."

"I'm Gus, and he's Jerry," Gus said, waiting for Barb to introduce herself.

"Hello Gus, and hello Jerry," Barb held up her drink. "I'm Barb."

"Hello Barb," Jerry replied, raising his drink before taking a gulp. "When you're ready, we'll be right over there." He pointed at the booth in a dark corner of the room.

"Ready for...?" Barb asked, innocently.

"Oh, I don't know," Gus answered. "Maybe sit on my lap and see what pops up?"

"Like I said, Gus," Barb turned slightly away. Not to ignore him, but to make sure he could see the side of her black mini dress with the laces. "Maybe in a minute."

Several more bar patrons arrived. A few older men with pleasantly drunk older women were followed by a few younger guys. They seemed happy just talking amongst themselves, getting in line for the pool table, playing darts, or just taking in the view.

She noticed most of the men taking in the view of her, frequently. She turned to face the bar, certain there was enough light on her backside to let everyone know what her ass looked like under the thin dress. She watched in the mirror as some men rubbed their groins while undressing her with their eyes. Barb liked that.

Ken returned a few minutes later, in a better mood. He was obviously happy to see the bar filling up, but he couldn't make out anyone wearing orange wristbands.

"Get lost on the way to the bathroom?" Barb asked.

"No," Ken smiled. "I had to make a call, and then Clay wanted to talk to me about something."

"About his raincheck?" Barb asked, smiling.

"Actually, he didn't bring it up," Ken said with a half-frown. "Work stuff."

Ken had actually been talking to Clay about the orange wristbands, and if they were going to be handed out at the bar, or if the "participants" already had them. Clay said they would show him their test results as if they were invitations to the party, and he would hand out the wristbands, then.

"Anything happen while I was out?" Ken asked.

"I met Gus and Jerry, over there," Barb answered, gesturing to the two rough guys sitting in the corner. "Pretty sure Gus wants me to sit on his lap in that booth. Jerry already had a wet spot from just talking to me. Should I go over there?"

"Maybe in a minute," Ken said, wondering if they had their "invitations."

"Funny, that's what I told him, too," Barb giggled.

The pool table opened up as the four young guys paid their tab and put on their coats, not without seriously checking out Barb and reconsidering. Barb left Ken and Clay at the bar, and approached the pool table. She racked the balls, making sure her dress pulled up as she leaned over the table.

"Sure you don't want to stay for a few rounds?" Barb asked. "I'm not very good."

"Oh, I doubt that," one of the young men said. "I'm the designated driver and have to get these guys home. If you're planning on being here awhile, I'll stop by on the way back."

"I'll be here for awhile, sweetie," Barb said with a wink while subtly stroking the pool cue.

Stacy and Clay soon made the rounds, bringing out drinks, checking for "invitations," and handing out wristbands for the private party scheduled for later in the evening. Barb didn't have an invitation, but was given a wristband, anyway. At first, Barb wasn't sure why Ken would take her to the bar on a night they'd be closing early for a private party, and then realized, the party must be for her.

One of the older guys escorting the pleasantly drunk women, paid his tab and said his goodbyes, apparently not "invited." A few others departed, and then a few more.

Ken looked around and counted fifteen people in the bar, not including Barb or himself. He could see five men wearing the orange wristbands, including the two sitting in the corner booth.

"There should be a few more coming," Clay said, realizing the pun. "Figured we'd send the uninvited on their way around midnight, if that works for you."

"You did good, Clay," Ken said, clapping a large hand on the bar owner's shoulder.

"Thanks," Clay said. "Anything I can do to help out."

Clay looked at Ken, concentrating as if trying to solve a problem.

"What is it?" Ken asked.

"You sure you're okay with her screwing around with a bunch of strangers?" Clay asked. "I'm not judging, or anything."

"Hey, it's her birthday - almost," Ken smiled. "It's what she asked for, so if she wants a lot of dick, she's going to get a lot of dick. Besides, she'll slow down, eventually. When she does, we'll have a few kids, behave like normal adults, and get old together. Until then, though, I don't want to deny her making the most with what she has right now, which is an ass, pussy, and mouth made for fucking."

"Ain't that the truth!" Clay said, slightly embarrassed a second later.

"Don't worry, Clay," Ken said. "I already told her she owed you a blowjob... and she's all for it."

Ken watched as Gus and Jerry wandered to the pool table and played a few rounds with Barb.

"How many drinks has she had?" Ken asked Clay.

"Two," Clay said flatly. "Two real drinks, that is. They think they've been buying her Scotch and soda."

"Ginger Ale?" Ken asked.

"Mostly," Clay said. "Her giggling and jiggling is all her, not the booze."

"Well, then," Ken said as he finished his drink and motioned for another. "Let's sit back and watch her giggle and jiggle."

"Are you letting me win?" Barb asked Gus.

"I wouldn't think of it," Gus said, pretending to be offended. "But maybe I'd try harder if we played for a wager."

"What do you have in mind?" Barb asked innocently. She was starting to warm up to Gus. He was not at all attractive, but his rough demeanor intrigued Barb. His body wasn't in that great of shape, either, but she could tell he must have played football at some point in his life. He had been big and muscular. Now, he was just big. She wondered if his cock was as big as the rest of him.

"Oh, maybe some time on my lap over in the booth?" Gus said.

"What is it about you and that booth?" Barb asked.

"Nothing much," Gus said. "A little privacy. We can drink and laugh, and nobody will bother us."

"I don't think anyone will bother us, anyway," Barb added.

"That's right," Gus said. "It's almost party time, isn't it? I see you got your invitation, too." Gus showed Barb his orange wristband. "Guess that means we'll have more time to see what pops up when they kick everyone else out."

"I guess so," Barb said seductively, and then she smiled. "What's in it for me?"

"What's what, now?" Gus said, confused.

"I know what you're going to get... a boner. But what do 'I' get by sitting on your lap?" Barb asked, moving closer to Gus. Her back was to the bar, and her body obscured her hand as she slid it over Gus' crotch.

"Maybe the same boner. I guess we'll have to wait and see who wins next game to find out," Gus smiled.

"Why wait?" Barb teased, removing her hand from the long bulge forming under Gus' jeans.

Barb walked to Ken at the bar, blushing ever so slightly.

"Having fun?" Ken asked, smiling.

"Starting to," Barb said before leaning into him and giving him a kiss. "What's with the orange wristbands? Is that a bar thing, now?"

"Not exactly," Ken said, not sure he was ready to reveal their real meaning just yet. "But, every once in awhile, bars will host private events and the bar becomes more of a club than a public place of business. It lets Clay keep the place open a little later, and tonight, it lets me choose who gets to stay and party, and who doesn't."

"Are they all friends of yours?" Barb asked. "The ones with wristbands?"

"No," Ken admitted. "Not exactly. But Clay knows most of them."

"Well then, I guess you better hope Clay has good taste in friends," Barb said before kissing him again. "I have to pee."

Ken pointed Barb toward the restrooms, and made sure she wasn't followed.

Without skipping a beat, Gus approached Ken at the bar. He stood about an inch taller than Ken, and easily outweighed

him by fifty pounds.

"You her bull for the night?" Gus asked.

"Her what?" Ken said, almost laughing.

"She said her pencil-dicked husband was at home, and that you were the one fucking her tonight," Gus said.

"She did, did she?" Ken smiled.

"Well, I jokingly asked her why she'd want to stop with just one guy fucking her - to test the waters and all - and she seemed like she was open to partying," Gus continued.

"So, why are you telling me? Asking permission to fuck my client?" Ken said, trying his best to keep a straight face.

"Hey, buddy, I'm just connecting the dots is all," Gus said. "I see no need to tear up Clay's place over a piece of ass."

"Good, 'cause I don't, either," Ken said. "You know why you're wearing the wristband, right?"

"Yeah, Clay made it sound like there was some kind of birthday or bachelorette party or something tonight and needed anyone interested in getting their dick sucked tested," Gus said. "The way she's dressed, I figured she was the birthday girl or bride-to-be. Seeing as there's hardly any other women her age in here, I figured it must be a birthday party. I just never heard of a bull arranging for his date to blow a bunch of guys at a bar."

"She'll do more than blow you," Ken said. "Just don't rough her up too much. She has to look presentable when I drop her off for her husband."

"How old is she, anyway?" Gus asked.

"How old does she look?" Ken said.

"Well, her face puts her at about thirty," Gus started. Ken would have to thank Bethany for doing such a good job teaching Barb how to get the face makeup just right. "But her body... holy shit. Her body doesn't show any signs of having had kids or nothin', and her tits haven't even thought about saggin' yet."

"You should tell her that," Ken smiled. "I'm sure she'd like to hear it with as much effort she goes through to stay in shape."

"Really?" Gus asked, wondering why any husband would let someone that looked like Barb out of his sight. "You're alright, buddy. Say, is she a natural blonde? Does the carpet match the drapes?"

"Well, you'd have to ask her 'cause you won't know by looking - no hair down there. She bleaches her asshole, though, if you're into that kind of thing."

"Holy shit!" Gus said, barely able to contain himself.

"Hey, but take it slow, okay?" Ken asked. "There are still folks in here without wristbands, and while she'd love the attention, we don't need to be passing around the gift that keeps on giving, okay?"

Gus nodded, looked around, and wondered when the crowd was going to thin out.

While Ken didn't know any of the patrons with orange wristbands, Gus apparently did. Ken watched as Gus went to several of the guys wearing orange wristbands, saying something in their ear, pointing at Ken, and then motioning them to the booth in the dark corner. A moment later, Gus returned to the bar.

"You're welcome to join us," Gus started.

"No, pal," Ken flexed his arms and smiled. "I'm allowing you to have fun with my date, not the other way around. When I say stop, or enough, you stop, you leave, and you leave happy with all of your teeth. Understood?"

"No need for that, buddy," Gus smiled. "Not that a half dozen or so stiff-dicked hombres couldn't make you disappear."

"I'm a very good friend of Clay's," Ken said. "He wouldn't like me to disappear, and neither would his family."

Gus' demeanor immediately relaxed. "Well then," Gus bowed. "Let me rephrase that. What I meant to say is, Understood."

"Good," Ken smiled, satisfied.

"Anything else I should know?" Gus asked before turning around to head back to the booth.

"If she likes the taste of your jizz, she'll swallow - a lot," Ken said, finishing his drink as Barb returned from the restroom.

"Oh, looks like you met Gus!" Barb said, bubbly. "Gus, Ken. Ken, Gus."

"We've met," Ken said, dryly.

"Gus wants me to sit on his lap over in that dark corner booth and see what pops up," Barb said. "You okay with that?"

"Sure, sweetie," Ken smiled and bent down so she could give him a deep, open-mouthed kiss. Her dress pulled up enough to reveal the bottom half of her ass cheeks and she made no effort to pull the dress down until she turned to walk toward the dark booth. He laughed to himself, realizing that there was a faint smell of come on her breath.

Clay appeared from the back room a minute later, the top of his pants buttoned, but his fly still open. He looked like he could use a nap, or just woke up from one.

"I can see why you married her," Clay said, realizing where the draft was coming from and carefully zipping up.

"I guess she remembered the rain check," Ken smiled.

"I haven't been blown like that in over 30 years," Clay said, still catching his breath. "She swallowed, too."

"You still eat a grapefruit for breakfast every morning?" Ken asked.

"Never miss one," Clay said, proudly.

"Well, that would probably explain that," Ken said. "According to Barb, it makes come taste good, and makes good come taste better. But, she just might be trying to get me to eat a better breakfast."

Stacy made the rounds of collecting empties, and cleaned up around the bar before counting the drawer in the register, and turning out the outside bar signs. She handed orange wristbands to Clay and Ken.

"That's all of them," Stacy told Clay and Ken.

"How many did you hand out?" Ken asked.

"Seven, not counting you two and the lap dancer," Stacy smiled. "The last two kids without wristbands are playing pool. You want me to kick them out?"

"Nah, I'll talk to them," Clay said. "You can head out."

Stacy went to the back room behind the bar, retrieved her coat, and stopped to give Clay a kiss on the forehead before heading for the main entrance. "Don't stay up too late," Stacy said, an then winked at Ken before closing the door behind her.

The kids playing pool looked like a preppy couple out on a date to the seedy part of town for the thrill of it. They showed up late, and barely had time to finish their drinks when Clay approached them.

"Sorry, folks, but we have a private event tonight," Clay said to the twenty-something, sharply dressed guy.

"Can we stay long enough to finish our drinks? My girlfriend barely got started on hers," the young man pleaded.

"How come she gets to have all the fun?" the young man's date motioned toward Barb, who was sitting on Gus' lap and giggling loudly.

"Well, it's her birthday, so she's getting all the attention, miss," Clay said.

"Andi," the young man's date corrected. "My name's Andi, short for Andrea, and I know how to give a girl attention, too."

"I believe you, but everyone here has been to the doctor since the last time they fooled around to get a clean bill of health. You wouldn't happen to have a piece of paper on you, somewhere, that says you've been checked for the clap, recently, would you?" Clay said, actually hoping she did.

Andi was cute. Small tits that were almost too small, but she made up for it with a pretty face, long legs and round butt. He wondered if Stacy had carded her, and thought about doing it himself. While he was lost in thought, they reluctantly put on their coats and had Clay escort them to the door.

"Sorry, Andi," Clay said.

"Me, too," Andi said, and then whispered in his ear, so only Clay could hear. "I'll let you fuck me in the ass if you arrange a party like that for me some day."

"Okay, thanks," Clay said, waiving good-bye. "Let's plan on that. Goodnight, folks."