“Be a sweetie and tidy up before you leave tonight,” Michael had said, assuming as usual that I would have nothing better to do on a Friday night after work. The fact that he was right only made me feel worse. I strolled across the deserted dance floor, deliberately crushing a discarded rose under my heel. Feeling more than a little sorry for myself, I kicked the offending blossom away, vowing to pick it up later. Why was it that no one ever bought me flowers?
When I reached the bar, I closed my eyes, forcing all morose thoughts from my mind. Michael was using me-I knew that-but there was no sense in working myself into a fit of depression over it. Next week, I would have to be stronger and tell him I had better things to do after work than clean his bar. Maybe I wouldn’t even do the cleaning tonight. I could probably find something more fun to do by myself.
The thought brought an unexpected spark low in my belly, which blossomed into an ache as my hands moved to my breasts. A deliberate noise from the shadowy dance floor behind me interrupted my game before it had even begun. My eyes flew open, and I felt my face flush as my hands dropped to grip the bar. Before I could speak or react further, the expensive sound system sprang to life, spilling music into the darkness around me. A cascade of notes crept across me like a lover’s hand. Beneath it, the beginnings of a rhythm stirred the ache in my body.
As the music grew louder, the pulsing in my crotch became more demanding until I could no longer differentiate between the music’s driving rhythm and the hot blood coursing through my veins. The singer’s growl was predatory—the tiny hairs on my arms and at the back of my neck prickled as if electrified. I glanced up into the large mirror that hung behind the bar, expecting to see Michael, but the man standing in the doorway was definitely not my boss.
A shiver rocketed up my spine as a flush of goosebumps crept across my tingling skin. He was huge and dressed all in black. Waves of dark hair fell nearly to his waist. I devoured his reflection as my brain came to realize something my body had known from the beginning. This man was gorgeous. I wanted him. The sound of his footsteps, barely audible over the music, jerked me back to reality. Butterflies fluttered in a frenzy beneath in the pit of my tummy. My breath came in gasps. I wondered if I ought to run while I had the chance, but my body had forgotten how to move. My wobbly knees and the insistent pulsing of my crotch kept me rooted to my spot. The air around me was laced with the earthy scent of my sex mingling with his. Then he was behind me.
I started to move as his hands closed over my wrists, and his muscled body pressed me into the hardwood of the bar. Instinctively, I tensed up, but instead of fighting, I arched my body against his. A sound that was more animal than human escaped my throat. As if inspired by my passionate response, he bent his knees and thrust his erection against the quivering muscles of my bottom, pumping his hips as if he meant to fuck me through my clothes. His hold on my wrists remained firm but gentle. I glanced up into the mirror and gasped as our eyes met.
I couldn’t believe I had failed to recognize the man I had watched on stage every night since I had started working at the bar. The man who made my blood boil every time he looked at me. The man I had not dared to dream about might find me-of all people-sexy.
“Johnny?”
He grinned and ran his palms up my arms, lingering at the soft curves of my elbows before moving up to my shoulders and then down my sides.· His fingers were like flames on my body. His lips brushed my throat and then moved. To nibble and suck at my earlobe. I felt his fingers at the front of my dress, searching for a way inside. I wanted to rip my dress off myself, but he stayed my hands with a gentle caress as he loosened the first button himself.
“Open your eyes, darling.” His hot, sweet breath caressed my throat as he spoke. I obeyed and watched as he opened my bra clasp and peeled the lace away from my breasts. They were so tender that his touch was almost unbearable, but at the same time, I would have died had he not proceeded. I watched as he cupped my breasts and teased my pale nipples to a deep, rosy pink. I closed my eyes once more and let my body melt into his. Without a word, he pushed my skirt up over my hips and began kneading my buttocks.
He parted my thighs, and his fingers darted over my moistened skin. I moaned and pushed my ass against him, gasping when 1 felt his cock. I heard him chuckle, and then he slid a hand down the back of my panties. His fingers pressed between my cheeks even as his other hand crept down my belly. A moment later, that hand pushed under the silk, but rather than touching my pussy, he eased my panties down my legs and let them fall, forgotten, to the floor. He slid his hand between my thighs, lifted my leg, and set my foot on the rail that ran along the bar’s base, leaving me open and vulnerable.
“Yes, that’s it, baby,” he whispered as his finger began to slide up and down my slick nether lips. “Open your legs.” Again I obeyed.
His hands began to move simultaneously, the fingers of one hand stroking between my cheeks while another moved in and out of my dripping pussy. The texture of his fingers was rough, alien, and exciting, but I wanted more. As if reading my mind, another finger joined the first. They probed and stroked until I was convinced I would die. Then his thumb seared across my clitoris, and I was gone. He held me as I rocked, tears streaming down my face.
When I could breathe once more, I turned in his arms. Our eyes met, and I wondered if he had watched me cum. The thought of his fingers inside me made me wet again. I was surprised to find that he was naked from the waist down. His jeans lay in a heap at his feet. Smiling, he kissed me as his hands slipped under my ass. In a single fluid motion, he scooped me up, deposited me on a barstool, and stepped between my legs. In a moment, the leather underneath me was slick with my juices.
His eyes met mine, and I smoldered. He smiled and licked his lips, then took my hand and ran my finger along the slippery-smooth flesh of his lips. I watched his mouth and felt my own tremble. His hands slipped down and brought my ass to the edge of the stool, then parted my thighs.
“I need to know just how sweet you really are, Angel.”
My nipples sprang up into pebbled peaks at the thought of his mouth on my pussy. When his lips touched the cleft of my body, my hand gripped the bar, and my head was thrown back involuntarily. The swollen petals of his mouth invaded the engorged flesh of my center, and I could hear his tongue moving in the juices of my body. I had never heard a sound so sensual.
His tongue tapped on me experimentally; then he would devour each part of my body, then pull away, so all I could feel was his breach-so close, but so far away. He was driving me crazy and enjoying the game. I thrust my hands in his silky tresses and forced his mouth down on my steaming core. My aggression excited him, and he went at me like a man starved. With _a few more brushes of his skilled tongue on my clit, I spammed and boxed his head between my thighs, coating his hungry mouth with my honey. When he raised his shiny wee face from between my legs, his eyes were darkened with impending sexual frenzy. I wanted him as badly as he wanted me. Maybe worse.
I saw him when my eyes were closed. I saw his large hands, fingers callused from plucking his guitar strings, on my breasts. I saw so much of him through my other senses. His rough chin against mine as we kissed. The scent of his body mingling with my own. I didn’t need to see his cock, a pillar of granite cloaked in softest velvet, as it slid into me. I felt it. We stayed like chat for a moment, the tip of his cock resting just inside my lips while our tongues battled. I could feel his hardness throbbing against me like an animal.
Without warning, his hands tightened on my cheeks, and he thrust in deeply, driving me back into the leather seat. I gripped him with my arms and legs and listened to him grunt. His hands left my body and gripped the bar behind us. I felt his thighs tighten and flex between mine. I opened my eyes. Johnny-eyes closed and teeth clenched-continued co fuck me, unaware that I was watching him.
Every vein in his arms stood out, and his skin glistened with sweat. God, it was hard to concentrate on keeping my eyes open when all I wanted to do was fall into his arms and die. I gripped him with interior muscles I never knew I had and watched with delight as his face contorted and he gasped in pleasure. The snarl in his voice brought me over the edge.
I closed my eyes as a wave of color and heat washed over me. His body tensed, and we arched together. He shuddered once and then fell heavily into my arms. I held him, his cock shrinking inside me, and stroked his hair to make sure he was real.
“Why didn’t you tell me you felt this way?” I asked, thinking of all the time we had wasted, the time when we could have been having glorious sex.
“I guess I’m shy.”
If I had not been so breathless, I would have laughed. In light of what we had just done, I found that hard to believe.
~Shannon O
Kansas City, MO
