"Oh yes,” she cooed, “Oh yes, please don't stop."
I quickly found her most sensitive spot, just beneath her engorged little clit, and her body writhed in pleasure as I nibbled, sucked and licked. When I eased the fleshy hood back with my fingertip and sucked the swollen nub between my lips, an animal-like reverberation came out of her throat, and she pressed me harder, matching her hips with the thrusts of my tongue and fingers.
The waves of pleasure began to wash over her and she cried out as the spasms of her orgasm enveloped her. Surge after surge pulsed through her body until finally she couldn't take anymore and she reached for me to make me stop. I released her and stood. A pink blush had shawled her throat and cheeks, and she held onto the vanity in an attempt to catch her breath.
"What's your name?” she asked as the ability to speak came back to her.
I handed her the tube of color.
"Ruby,” I told her as a smile crossed my face, “now you'll think of me every time you put on your lipstick."
She giggled.
"And now every time I go into a ladies room."
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KISS THIS
"Why are men such assholes?” she asked as she finished her second drink.
I wiped off the counter in front of her and put a fresh napkin down for her to put her glass on.
"Not all of them are,” I replied.
"Yes they are,” she said quickly, her hands flying up and gesturing in the air.
I smiled. Being a bartender, I was the sounding board to many a jilted lover.
"You just haven't met the right guy yet,” I told her.
She made a little circle with her index finger and thumb.
"Tiny little assholes … just like this. Every fuckin’ one of them."
I chuckled to myself.
"Miss, don't you think you've had enough to drink?"
"Not just no,” she retorted, suddenly slamming her hand down on the counter, “but Hell no. I can still remember his name."
"Who's name?"
She snapped her fingers in front of her face and thought for a moment.
"Whatshisname? Oh yeah … Jeff. That's the asshole's name."
"So you're trying to drink enough that you forget his name?"
"That's the plan, sweetie. Now, pour me another."
I didn't want to, but it was my job. I poured her another drink. As I put it on the napkin in front of her, I leaned a little closer. I could see she had been crying, so the guy had probably just dumped her.
"Why don't I get you something to eat? Some nacho chips and salsa or something like that? It will make you feel better,” I told her.
"Nah,” she said, waving me away, “I'm not hungry. I just want to spend the evening with Charlie Daniels."
"Charlie Daniels? The country music singer?” I asked.
"I mean Jack Daniels.” She hugged her glass. “My three best friends, Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, and Jose Quarvo."
I chuckled to myself. I could see that I was going to have to pour her into a cab before the night was over.
* * * *
I waited on other customers, but kept an eye on her. She was an attractive woman, and several men hit on her during the evening, but they struck out. All she wanted to do was to drink and forget whatshisname.
"Hey, bartender,” she called, motioning for me to come to her.
"Yes ma'am?” I asked.
"I think my glass has a leak in it. It's empty again."
"Hmm, maybe we could stop the leak with these pretzels,” I told her.
She looked at the bowl of pretzels and smiled at me.
"You're trying to keep me from getting drunk."
"Yes ma'am."
She sat back and looked me over for a moment.
"You know,” she summarized, “you're kind of cute. I like big guys. How tall are you?"
"Six foot seven inches."
A sly grin crossed her face.
"Let's forget about the six foot and talk about the seven inches,” she quoted Mae West.
I laughed. She had a delightful sense of humor.
"Jeez, you should be a wrestler,” she commented.
I laughed again.
"No, I'm not the violent type."
She reached over the counter and grabbed my left bicep.
"My god, your arms are as big as my legs."
Her hand was warm and I could feel a slight stirring in my groin. I shook it off quickly and tried to remain professional.
"Having a little muscle comes in handy when throwing out the obnoxious drunks,” I told her.
She put her hand down and looked solemn.
"Am I being an obnoxious drunk?” she asked.
I shook my head.
"No, you are being a delightful drunk."
She grinned.
"So, what's your name, Paul Bunyan?"
I chuckled at her jesting of my size.
"Jerry,” I told her.
She reached over the counter to shake my hand, and then popped another pretzel in her mouth.
"It's nice to meet you, Jerry,” she said, “I'm Renee."
"Nice to meet you too, Renee. Now, can I get you some coffee?"
The corner of her mouth turned up and she pushed the empty glass away.
"Yeah, black with a little cream."
"Coming up."
I handed her the cup of coffee and pulled a stool up behind the bar. The locals had begun to leave and the place was beginning to empty out, so I could take a little time with my new friend. She wasn't a beauty contest winner by any means, but she was attractive and listened contentedly as I told her my life's story.
"You know,” I told her, “being a bartender, I'm a pretty good listener."
"I wouldn't want to bore you."
I looked around. There were only three other people in the place and two of them had passed out. I'd already called them a cab.
"Well, if you don't talk to me, I'm going to fall asleep and then I'll get fired. You don't want that on your conscience, do you?"
A slight smile curled at the left side of her lip.
"No, I wouldn't want that to happen."
"Good, so tell me why this Jeff person is such an asshole."
She sipped her coffee, then put the cup down and ran her finger around the rim.
"What can I tell you?” she began, “he ran around on me, gambled, ran up my credit cards, and just as we were going to get married, he told me that he had found another woman."
I made a sour face.
"Ouch. So why did you stay with him?"
"Stupidity probably,” she laughed, “I thought he would change."
I spent the majority of the evening with Renee. We ended up in a booth after closing and she told me how she had even moved here to follow the jerk because he was in the service. She moved her hands a lot when she talked and I watched them carefully. They were long and tapered and I could picture her soft hands doing some sort of office work. I could also picture her soft hands on my body. A tingle was starting between my legs.
"May I have another?” she asked.
"Huh?"
Ok, it wasn't my greatest line.
"Coffee. May I have another?"
"Oh yeah, sure."
Before I could get up, she rose from the booth, walked over to the counter, and reached over the bar to pour another cup of java. When she came back, I was smiling.
"What are you grinning at?” she asked as she sat down.
"You,” I replied. “You're a nice lady."
She tossed her dark hair back over her shoulder and gave me her best pout.
"I'm no lady. Especially staying with an asshole like I did."
"Well, I think you're a lady. We don't think so straight when we think we're in love,” I said kindly. A little more mischievous grin over took my face as I continued. “And besides, I was watching you when you leaned over to get the coffee. You've got a nice ass."