Belinda and Dean

Frasier's was an out of the way watering hole that had been there for as long as anyone could remember. It sported a corrugated tin roof and clapboard siding on the exterior. The interior was covered with dollar bills, pictures of patrons with the bar's current owners, and assorted sports memorabilia. The unisex restroom was located in the back, off a hallway behind the kitchen, which afforded maximum privacy from the people in the bar.

Greg walked in precisely at seven. He had been to this bar a few times before, and greeted the bartender before spotting Belinda, sitting at the end, her legs crossed so she was showing maximum thigh. Greg let out a low wolf whistle.

"Belinda ... you look ... fantastic." He stopped in front of her barstool. His eyes were glued to Belinda's massive cleavage. He was planning on getting lost in it.

"It's the new me," she drawled. There was a bit of Panhandle Florida cracker in her, and the Southern accent sometimes leaked out.

"I like the new me." His eyes remained fixated on her chest.

"Are you going to buy me a drink?"

"Of course ... of course."

Belinda gave her drink order to the bartender. He wiped off the counter in front of her and put a gin and tonic in front of her. Greg ordered his usual rum and coke and they started chatting. Belinda was unusually engaging, especially with Greg, a person she despised, and before long they were on their third drink. Greg hadn't had any dinner, and by the time he drained his third drink he was starting to get tipsy.

"Whaz about we go to the bafroom?" he asked, slurring his words.

Belinda put his hand on her leg, allowing him to slip his hand under her dress. "Why don't you order us another round and then maybe I'll take that trip with you?" His hand hit the gusset of her panties, which were sopping wet.

"Shuure," he replied, signaling to the bartender for two more.

Belinda nursed her fourth drink while Greg downed his. "Ready?" he asked.

Belinda slipped off her barstool, smoothed her dress, and then turned to Greg. "Come in two minutes."

She walked to the bathroom and closed the door and locked it. The bathroom was a good size. There was enough room for a small table that had bowl of potpourri on it and a low rise cabinet for supplies, as well as the toilet and sink. She sat on the toilet seat and waited until there was a knock. Within a minute, there was a loud rapping on the door. "Ishh meee," he said without opening his mouth. He held himself upright by resting the palm of his hand against the restroom door.

Belinda unlocked the door, with Greg half falling into the room. Belinda pushed him inside and locked the door behind her. She had him stand up in front of the toilet and pulled his pants down to his ankles. His thick cock was already erect, the head an angry purple and leaking precum from the tip. She pushed his chest to make him sit on the toilet.

"You luke bewtiful, Bewinda," he muttered as the slut blonde pulled down the top part of her dress and unclasped her bra, exposing her bountiful tits.

"I think you'll like this Greg."

She knelt on the cold tile and licked the head of his cock like a lollipop. It bounced obscenely against his stomach as she traced her tongue along the sensitive underside.

"Fuuuck, Bewinda," he groaned, his arms falling limply behind him.

Belinda felt the familiar chill from the bathroom tiles as the grout lines dug into the skin of her knees. She dipped her head over and over, sliding her wet lips up and down his shaft until the veins in it pulsed, and he starting shooting his hot cum into her mouth. Instead of pulling off, Belinda forced her head down, inhaling his entire length, while he continued to ejaculate. She loved the feel of the soft skin of his manhood and the bittersweet taste of his cum.

While her lips were mashed against his pubic hair, she reached behind the drunken man to feel for the handcuffs she had attached to the flush mechanism of the toilet. She had previously attached one cuff to the flush mechanism of the toilet and was able to attach the other cuff to Greg's wrist. She snapped on the cuff before he was able to comprehend what she was doing, and then stood up.

"Hey! We're not fineeshed." He was barely able to keep his head upright. He tried to stand up, but found his left hand was chained to the toilet.

Belinda spit his cum into a cocktail napkin. "I think we're done here, don't you?" asked Belinda as she tucked her boobs back into her bra and then wiped her mouth with the same napkin.

"Noooooo," Greg cried out, now realizing his predicament.

Belinda lowered her panties and took the cum crusted napkin and rubbed it vigorously against her wet pussy and asshole. She crammed it into his mouth.

"Something to remember me by."

She washed her hands in the sink, dried them on a paper towel, wadded it up and threw it, bouncing it off his forehead. She took out her phone and snapped a series of pictures. She flipped through them, deciding which one was the best. She showed the picture to a distraught Greg.

"See you at the office. I think some of your co-workers would love to see this picture. If you're a bad boy, maybe I'll share this with them."

She walked out, leaving the door wide open. Two men who were waiting in line were aghast to see the hulking man handcuffed to the toilet. Belinda walked briskly by the bar, spotting the barkeeper cleaning glasses at the far end of the bar. Without breaking stride she tossed a twenty dollar bill wrapped around the key to the handcuffs to the cupped hands of the young, dark haired man that she had been flirting with for the last hour.

"You'll need the key in a minute. The twenty's for you." She winked and then was out the door.

* * *

" ... and so I left him handcuffed to the toilet."

"You did what?" asked an astounded Dean, then taking a large draw off his draft beer. "I can't believe you actually did it. Give me the details."

Belinda drew her barstool closer and picked up her gin and tonic. "I got to the bar early and tipped the bartender to water down my drinks and give Greg doubles."

"That was smart. How drunk was he?"

"Really drunk. Almost falling down drunk."

"So how did you get him into the bathroom?"

"I told him I was going to give him a blowjob."

"That would work. So how did you restrain him?"

"I brought a pair of handcuffs with me. I went to the restroom first, and attached one end of the cuff to the metal pipe right underneath the flush handle. He was so drunk that while I was giving him a blowjob I was able to reach behind him and close the cuff around his left wrist. Here."

Belinda pulled out her phone and scrolled through her pictures until she found the one of Greg cuffed to the toilet, his pants around his ankles and his cock sticking straight up, still wet with Belinda's saliva.

"No," uttered Dean. "I can't believe it." He started laughing so hard other bar patrons were staring at them. "Honest Belinda, I think I just peed in my pants."

"I don't think we'll have to worry about Greg anymore." She slid off her barstool and landed next to Dean. She put her hand on his leg and squeezed the growing bulge in his pant leg. "But you seem to have a problem that I can help you with."

* * *

Dean followed Belinda into the driveway at Belinda's house. She only lived a few miles from Dean, but in a much more modest house. After her divorce, she settled into a three bedroom bungalow that was more than enough room for one person. She opened the front door and turned on the lights in the entranceway.

"Something to drink?" she asked.

"Sure, what have you got?"

"Beer? Wine? Maybe an older scotch?"

"Beer sounds great."

Belinda led Dean to the galley kitchen, and opened the refrigerator door, making room so Dean could see inside. She pointed to an area on the top shelf. "Take your pick."

Dean perused the half dozen different beers and picked an IPA in a longneck. He twisted off the cap and tossed it into the trash. He took a long draw off the bottle. "Belinda, you've changed so much."

"I have." She nervously adjusted her dress. "Let me show you something."

They went back to her bedroom and into her walk-in closet. There were two black plastic garbage bags burgeoning with clothes. She dipped her hand into one of them and pulled out a dark, conservative jacket. She held it in front of her.

"Recognize this?"

Dean stared at the garment. "I think this is what you wear to work."

"Not anymore. No more hiding my body." She went to the clothes hanging on the rod. She held out a hanger holding a low cut dress. "This is like what I'm wearing now." She shimmied her body which made her boobs wiggle in her new dress, the tag still dangling under her shoulder.

Dean's eyes widened at the impromptu show. Belinda was so self-confident. So sexy.

Belinda put the dress back in its place. "Did you want to see the rest of the house?"

Dean nodded. He wanted to follow Belinda, to see her ass shake in her new dress and heels.

Belinda went to the dining room in the back of the house. The busty blonde flipped on the outside lights and opened the curtains covering the sliding glass door to show Dean the hot tub and wooden deck in her back yard.

"Nice Belinda. Looks private too," commented Dean, noticing the six foot high wooden fence surrounding her back yard. He was imagining the two of them naked in that hot tub.

She chuckled, mostly to herself. "Sometimes when I'm feeling a bit naughty I'll go into the hot tub with my toys."

Belinda, where have you been?, Dean thought. He put his arm around her, pulling her closer, as they both gazed out at the back yard.

"I know we've been through a lot of stuff together. And I know I was kind of ... an asshole at first ...what I was trying to say is that I like you, Belinda. You're a nice person and after a few bumps we've had a lot of fun together. You're sexy as hell too." He lowered his eyes. Belinda thought it was cute. She was flattered by his twin admissions -- that he was an asshole and that she was a nice person, and sexy too. She thought well of Dean that he exhibited a great deal of self-awareness, and that at the beginning of their relationship he wasn't considerate of Belinda's feelings. But the slut blonde didn't want to fall into the same trap as her other relationships -- a partner who didn't enjoy or indulge her in her fantasies to be a slut.

"Dean ... you know when you met me that I have ... certain sex-driven motivations."

Dean laughed at the obviousness of her statement. "The first time I saw you was in a men's bathroom with the stall door open giving a line of men blow-jobs."

"True," admitted Belinda. "But I suppressed how I've felt for a long time. I don't want to do that anymore. I'll admit, the train in the men's room was not my finest hour. But it wasn't as if I didn't enjoy it. I did. A lot. I just need to be a bit more careful ..."

"A bit?"

Belinda shrugged. "Well ... a lot more careful. But I still want to do it. You know ...".

Dean nodded his head. "I do ...like I said, it's been fun for me. I enjoy watching you act out your sexual fantasies. I must say, it's a bit fucked up ... but it is hot. You have the most amazing tits ..."

Belinda saw that Dean's eyes had wandered down to her chest. Belinda used to be annoyed at men staring at her tits, but now she enjoyed watching their eyes. She knew they were focused on her tits ... she never acknowledged to herself that she enjoyed the attention.

"Did you want to touch them Dean?" Belinda drew one breast out of her top and offered it to him in the palm of her hand. "Suck it. You know you want to."

He wanted to do it from the minute he walked into Belinda's house. He bent his head forward as Belinda's hands cradled his head, sucking her nipple into his mouth.

"Mmmm ..." hummed Belinda as Dean's hot, wet mouth embraced her hardened nub of flesh.

Dean's palm cradled her breast as he licked around her nipple. "Are you going to be my little slut tonight?"

Belinda looked at him as if she were chiding him for asking her the obvious. She dropped to her knees, unzipped his pants and pulled them down, along with his boxers, to his ankles. His cock bobbed in front of him. She looked up at his surprised expression, and then eyed his cock and sucked it into her mouth.

With his head tilted back and his eyes shut, he uttered to the ceiling, "I guess I got my answer."

Belinda loved giving blowjobs, and wanted this one to be memorable. She licked the underside of his cock down to his scrotum, and then lightly took each ball into her mouth, using her tongue to roll it around, and then lower to swab his asshole while pumping his cock with his hand.

"Ohhh ... Belinda ...you naughty slut... ". His voice trailed off as he tried to savor twin sensations of her rim and handjob. Belinda pressed her head between the cheeks of his ass, burrowing her tongue in his ass as she jacked him off.

"No ... Belinda ... not yet ...," he pleaded between panting breaths.

Belinda dove deeper, ramming her tongue inside his asshole and milking his cock and caressing his balls with her strong hands.

"Ahh ... ahhhh .... ahhhhhh," the dark haired man sighed as long spurts of cum arced onto the glass sliding door.

Belinda stopped and watched the cum splattered on the glass slowly run down. She stepped forward, as if to inspect it, then lapped up the ejaculate off the glass with the flat of her tongue. She scooped up a large wad and let it pool in a puddle on her tongue, showing it to Dean.

Dean's hand had already started stroking his sensitive cock when Belinda started licking up his cum, and stroked harder when Belinda made her lewd display.

"Belinda ... you are a slut," telling her what he thought and what she wanted to hear.

The big titted blonde wiped a speck of cum off the corner of her mouth with her finger, then licked it off. "Yes I am, Dean. Yes I am."