A Barmaid's Tale - Part 1. The Benefits Package - Sex Stories

A Barmaid's Tale - Part 1. The Benefits Package

... walking away slowly, knowing his eyes were boring holes in my skin-tight jeans.

The next day, I turned up with butterflies in my stomach. With my hair in a loose ponytail and wearing large hooped earrings, I was dressed in a blue and white cotton crop top, which hugged my firm boobs and made it obvious I wasn’t wearing a bra. Separated from the crop top by a bare midriff and dangling crystal belly button ring, was an old pair of cream jeans, which I had cut off to make into shorts that barely covered my peachy little buttocks.

It was a cold day, so I arrived at the pub wearing a short black puffa-style coat with a fake fur-lined hood. Greeting Mal, I slipped it off and placed it and my handbag down on a chair in the corner of the bar, deliberately bending over as I did so, to offer him a prolonged view of my arse. Straightening slowly and turning to face him with an innocent look, it was obvious I had achieved the desired effect.

Business was slow, with only a few of the die-hard regulars nursing pints in silence as they watched sport on the big screen. Mal and I chatted in a flirty way, whilst we restocked and organised ready for the evening. This meant passing each other frequently in the narrow serving area. Without making it obvious, I made sure to brush past him each time: sometimes with my bum; sometimes with my boobs. In addition, I made sure to bend over slowly whenever restocking the fridges, and push my boobs out when reaching up to stack the glasses. ...

... After an hour or so of this, Mal was looking increasingly flustered.

The pub slowly emptied of its remaining punters. By the time we had finished, the last one had wandered off home. Mal followed him and locked the entrance door, before re-joining me behind the bar.

“Not bad,” Mal grinned, leaning against the counter, and admiring our handiwork.

“Yeah, I reckon we deserve a reward,” I replied with a wink, leaning back against the counter opposite him, arching my back slightly.

“And what sort of reward do we deserve then, Tiff,” he asked in a tense voice.

“Well, the best sort of reward is something you aren’t normally allowed,” I responded in a low sultry tone, my eyes locked on his, and my stomach turning with nervous excitement and anticipation. I could feel my nipples hardening slightly, and pressing against the tight cotton crop top.

“Always,” he mumbled, his eyes mentally undressing me. Pushing gently away from the counter, I stood close enough to feel the warmth of his body, see the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, and hear the tightness of his breathing.

Maintaining eye contact, I traced an index finger across his hairy chest. He caught his breath as the red-painted fingernail slid down over the protruding roundness of his beer belly. “Are there things Jane won’t allow you, Mal,” I murmured, raising my eyebrows questioningly.

“There are one or two things,” he croaked, feeling my finger slide lightly along the underside of his belly, which was ...