Bar Snack Ch. 01 - Sex Stories

Bar Snack Ch. 01

... more. The music came up and, sure enough, the three couples at the other end of the bar ambled out onto the dance floor. “So, do those sell a lot of drinks?” What the hell was she saying? Oh, I see, she’s staring at my nipples. Oh god, they give me away very time. Maybe that’s good. Oh shit, maybe it isn’t. “I don’t know about selling drinks, but they seem to attract tips pretty well.” I wanted to raise my hand high and jump up and down like a school kid with the answer, and yell, Choose me, choose me! “Are they always that long?” Oh God, she’s talking about my nipples, my best feature, my best friends! “Um, well, they’re always a little poky, but they appear to have some extra incentive just now.” She smiled again! A beautiful smile that lit up her face and mischievous green eyes, a face framed by that long brown hair. A few strands, wildly out of place, ran across her forehead and down her smooth cheeks before settling into a contrast with the denim off-white shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down her chest. Because the fabric was so thick, very little showed, but it was obvious that her breasts were large and somewhat low slung—which meant they were real—I love real boobs! “Can I see them?” She wants to see them! See them? Hell, she can suck on them until sunrise! But I can’t just take off my blouse with other customers here, even if they do seem to be sexually liberated. What to do? “Why don’t we dance?” My suggestion took me by surprise, and her, too, but she broke into ...

... a grin and stood. I came out from behind the bar undoing buttons and when we met to figure out who would lead; it would obviously be her;I pulled my blouse open and fell against her chest. Until this point I didn’t know she was wearing cowboy boots—hell, I didn’t even know she had feet; she just moved from the entrance to my bar as an apparition, an animal on the prowl. Oh, I hope so much she’s an animal on the prowl for me. I'm 5-9, but with me in cute little sport-shoe sandals, she was at least four inches taller and her large, low slung breasts met my little nipple holders as we embraced. “Now, open your blouse, too.” My voice was noticeably husky even to me as I stared into her eyes and dared her to reciprocate. “In public, right here? They’re a little floppy, ya know. If you spin me, someone could get hurt.” I laughed and our eyes met again and I did it, I actually did it. I started to unbutton her blouse as we swayed to the sweet, soft music, hardly dancing, just bringing our bodies together. “Well, if they look like they’re getting out of control, I’ll just have to grab ‘em.” She laughed at that, tossing her head back, her wild brown hair flying. She’s playing with me; oh my God, I want her to play with me in so many ways. When I had her shirt unbuttoned, I pulled it open and held her close, and we both looked down to check out one another.; my little 34Bs with the pencil-eraser pink nipples, her large 34Cs with big, smooth brown areolas that I wanted to touch and kiss ...