Bar One

So, here I was once again, set to spend my evening trolling a bar looking for single women. Women that were not in groups like protective huddles, or laughing amongst themselves paying no mind to anyone else.

And then there is the ever present 'couple' of women, sitting at the bar, having what almost seems like an intimate conversation. Since this isn't a "dyke" bar, I sometimes wonder about those 'couples.'

Sometimes, I even get the impression that the most hetero seeming women might go from 'best friends' to lovers in a heartbeat. If only they's let themselves explore that forbidden side of sex.

They tend to lean in to talk just a little too far, their heads almost meeting. If I didn't see them look up at men that wander by occasionally, I'd think they were already lovers. I cold see them sometimes, almost ready to lean in and kiss their 'friend,' instead of looking with hidden longing and biting their own lips. Lean in and nibble on her lips, I almost want to go up and tell them.

Which of course, all of this makes it even harder to find a single woman in a bar.

If I were dressed expensively, flashing money and buying high end drinks, I'm sure I'd have no problem at this sure.

I was side glancing at a particular 'couple' of nice looking women, when one of them got up and moved in the direction of the women's room. Seeing my chance, I rose up and went over to the (luckily for me) nicer looking of the two.

She had longer hair, and it wasn't "bottle" colored, and it went just past her shoulders. Nicely curved at the end even.

She was looking down and meditating on her martini when I walked up and said, "Hi. I'm Robert," a little too loudly.

She startled (not a good sign), and looked up at me warily. "I guess you just saw my girlfriend to to the powder room. Right?"

"Yes," I shrugged. "Sorry if I'm interrupting. But yes, I really wanted to talk to you, but I didn't want to break in to your conversation."

She paused, looking at me with a not good frown, as if she was finding the right words to blow me off. I know that many women don't want to antagonize a man, and then find that he's stalking her later.

"Look, you're a beautiful woman. If I didn't read the signs right and your friend is actually your girlfriend... Just tell me, and let me off lightly."

She smirked at this. Didn't smile, didn't laugh, but at least she wasn't frowning loudly at me.

"So if you're available..." And you're into seeing men, I almost asked. "I'd like to invite you out for dinner. Tomorrow night, maybe?" I asked as out of the corner of my eye, I saw her friend walking up behind me. Now or never.

Looking at her friend and smiling suddenly, I realized the answer was no. Looking back at me, she pursed her lips, and just shook her head that silent 'No' in reply.

I sighed as her friend waited for me to leave, and I said, "Sorry for bothering you," and turned to walk away. The look in her friends eyes was one of relief as she rejoined her girlfriend. "Men," I heard her say roughly.

Well, that didn't go well. If I didn't still have my drink in my hand barely drank from, I'd put the glass on the bar and walk out. I don't take rejection well.

Now, I'm not a bad looking man. I don't have fifty extra pounds on me, or a vastly receding hairline. I know I don't exactly have the best of taste in clothes, and my fashion sense is as bad as most other men.

But I was beginning to wonder about what was wrong with me. I was beginning to wonder why, the the sea of complaints that I had heard at work about it being so hard to find a 'good man,' why I wasn't being considered worthy of that 'title.'

Time to go and cry "inta my beer" on the back patio, I thought. At least there I might not be so tempted by the various gaggles of women that lay (seemingly) just out of reach inside the bar proper.

Luckily, there was one picnic table with chairs at the back of the enclosure. And it wasn't such a cold night as to need the heat columns lit between each 'grouping' or 'booth' of table and chairs.

I sighed as I sat down. Shot down yet again.

This 'bout' of romantic drought was beginning to really drain me. It had been years since I'd had a woman to fuck. And way too many of the lat twenty years had felt like that. Not relationships, but merely adventures in fucking... and then being fucked (in the head mentally). I was starting to wonder whether middle age would see me wanking till death do I part.

But I looked up suddenly. I felt eyes were on me, but I couldn't imagine where they were looking from.

And then I saw her.

She was in the next booth, laughing and grinning with several of her female friends. I almost thought I was being paranoid, as she barely glanced in my direction.

Then she looked at me full on, her face turning somber, and a look of longing in her eyes.

She was beautiful. She looked like she was in her forties, maybe early fifties, and her friends were all about the same age. Her hair was cascading in dark brunette curls around her full and haunting face. Even in this light, I could se that there were lines around her eyes, and laugh lines beginning to show around her mouth. She bit her lower lip, and then looked down, eventually looking away back into her circle of friends.

I realized I was staring at her, and then looked down, embarrassed, only looking back up when I felt her gaze on me. It was tentative now, and she kept looking across the table at her friends, and then occasionally stealing a glance in my direction.

One time, I saw the tentative gaze become one of a tentative look of lust. I couldn't see her body, as she was blocked by the friend that was in her position at the table with her back to me, blocking my view.

"I'm done for, girls," one of her older looking and plumper friends said to the group as she was getting up from the table. "Been a long week."

I heard agreement coming from the others as they began to get up and move to say their goodbyes.

Now that they were all up, I saw that my Gazer was by far the better looking of her friends, and that most of them looked to be well into their fifties. Therefore I assumed that she was as well.

I sighed roughly again, as a sea of fragrance drifted over to me from where they were all hugging each other in preparation for leaving.

"I think I"m going to hang out here for a few more minutes," my Hopeful Candidate told her friends suddenly, glancing once again in my direction. The other five friends hugged her tightly and wished her a happy weekend, and moved towards the door leading back into the bar.

I watched as her friends all disappeared inside, and then watched as this potential love interest sat down once again, and looked tentatively in my direction. She was looking down through her eyelashes, and her bottom lip began quivering and trembling.

I got myself up and moved the short distance to be standing at the edge of the table looking at her just as tentatively. "Mind if I join you?" I asked her, my voice trembling in fear of yet another rejection.

But she looked up shyly, and shook her head 'Yes.' Hallelujah! First hurdle taken.

"Hi," I said, extending my hand across the table, "I'm Robert."

She reached up and again tentatively place her delicate4 hand in mine. I was tempted to shake it and let it go, but instead I grew bold, and reached my body over in her direction, and kissed the back of her hand gently.

I felt her tremble at this chivalrous gesture, and smile -- again tentatively. "I'm Diana. I'm--" she said, and then in a combination of whimper and moan replied, "I'm glad to meet you."

We sat there in a hushed expectant but still reluctant silence, for felt like years, before I found the courage to ask, "Do you come here every Friday night with your friends?"

"Usually. After we have dinner and--"

"And you don't have a significant other waiting for you at home?" I asked. Then I thought, Well of course you don't. Otherwise you wouldn't be sitting here with a strange man.

She dropped her head, and tried to smile, but I saw hurt trembling on her lips. I suddenly felt like a shit for having said it like that. She looked like she had had her heart broken recently, and was still grieving the loss. She grabbed her hands together and began wringing them slightly.

"I'm sorry to have said it like that," I said and sighed, looking down at my own hands now as well.

A tear formed in her right eye, and began rolling down her cheek. She began to get up and move towards the door.

I got up and stopped her as gently as I could. "God, I'm such a stupid piece of--"

And she turned back towards me and looked very conflicted. "I just... Maybe I'm not..."

I don't know why, but I closed the distance between us and scooped her into my arms to hold her. As gently and comfortingly (and non-sexually) as I could.

She began to pull away, and then just as suddenly, melted into my arms, weeping.

I raised my right hand from her waist and began stroking her hair as softly as I could, an then raised her head up and kissed her softly on her forehead. "I'm sorry that he hurt you so," I whispered.

At this, she began shuddering in her sobbing. My heart began aching for her, for whatever her piece of shit husband or boyfriend did to her.

As I held her, I realized just how slender and yet shapely she was. Even without thinking, I felt my male member begin hardening at this intimate contact, however wrong it felt to me to take advantage of her hurt.

I began pulling away myself, but she clutched at my shoulders and whispered, "Don't." Her sobbing began to lessen, but was now turning into wracking sighs, with an occasional hiccup that I wondered was maybe a bitter laugh.

She nestled into my shoulder, and whimpered. "You feel good."

"So do you. You feel quite wonderful, actually." I kissed the top of her head, reveling in the luscious smell of her lilac scented shampoo. I whimpered now at the oh, so delicious feeling of holding this woman in my arms.

"Can we go somewhere to talk?" She asked me, breaking away and looking up into my eyes. What makeup she had had on before, was now running in rivers down her face. She looked tired, but somehow even more beautiful. But she also looked like she was on the verge of crying again.

"Let's go," I told her. There's the Doughnut shop just down the street. You live around her, yes?"

She nodded, and I grabbed for a napkin on the table and wiped down her face as gently as I could. She grinned sheepishly after I had done that, and then buried her head once again in my shoulder. "Oh, God..." she sobbed again.

"Maybe I should find you a taxi or a rideshare," I whispered in her hair.

"Where do you live? " she asked, looking up at me and raising her right hand to my cheek to caress it.

"About--"

"Take me to your place," she interrupted me hungrily. "I don't want to go home tonight. Make me feel safe! Can you do that?"

I felt my own well of sadness ready to overflow. I wanted to ask her if he had hurt her physically, but I didn't want to bring up anymore hurt for her.

"Sure. I want you to feel safe again."

She moaned and lifted her head and kissed me. The touch of her lips was like a damn breaking inside of me. I could fall in love with this woman so quickly, I realized.

"Make me feel safe and loved?" she whispered as she smiled both so delicately and sorrowfully. I had already fallen in love.

"Let's go," I sad, taking her hand and walking us towards the door, the music blaring as we did.

Outside, I gestured, "My car's over there, on the sidestreet." Then wrapping my right arm around her slender waist, I had to fight the urge to scoop her up in my arms and carry her there. But that was too much, too soon.

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We were on the way to my place. It felt both exceedingly strange, and yet so right at the same time, taking his woman home with me.

It's not like we were twenty somethings anymore. It had been a long, long time since I'd swept a woman off her feet in a bar and taken her home. Or just fucked her in the back seat of my car.

She had relaxed, even being in the car of a strange man who I wasn't sure she could trust. Oh, I wasn't going to rape her by any stretch, but it had been so long since my last girlfriend,... well, I was hoping that I wouldn't be too 'rough and ready' when we got there.

As I drove, I looked over at her from the corner of my right eye, and saw that she had her head down slightly. All of a sudden, she looked much older than I had seen her so far. Whatever had happened to her, weighed heavily on her.

But then my glance caught her eye, and she lifted her head once more and the years drifted off of her face once again as she smiled shyly at me.

We drove on for about another mile, when she suddenly reached over and gently took my hand and brought it to her lips to kiss. Then she used the back of my hand to caress her face as she nestled into, and then kissed my knuckles. She let go of my hand and let it drift back tot he steering wheel.

--------------------

I let her into my modest apartment and turned on the light at the door. I knew it was a mess before we walked in.

"Please forgive the Messi--"

And she grabbed my hand and looked at me so lovingly, and said, "It's ok. I know you live alone."

I didn't want to be so brusque, but I found I couldn't help myself. I swept her up in my arms, and she let out a shrill giggle and a wild, delighted shriek. And then she sighed a tremendous sigh, as I walked her into my (equally messy) bedroom.

I wanted to throw her onto the bed, in a savage gesture of male virility, but instead I laid her down as gently as I could. "I'll be right back," I told her, and put my finger on her lips to quell any protest.

I ran back to the kitchen, and quickly pulled a chilled bottle of champagne out of the fridge. I grabbed two flutes and the bottle and went back to the bedroom.

"Oh, my God! You want to get me drunker than I already am?" She asked, faux outraged. And then she giggled again. "What's the occasion?"

Setting down the bottle and glasses on the nightstand, I opened the bottle and let the cork pop. "Celebrating having met my next wife," I said, hoping that I wouldn't regret that.

Her eyes went wide and she gasped. Then she bit her lower lip so sexily, and began crying and smiling. Reaching up her arms like a mall child would, I put the bottle down and fell into her arms. She opened her legs wide, and then wrapped them around my waist.

Grabbing my head in both of her hands, "Promise me?" she asked lustily, and then pulled me in to plant the most passionate and hungry kiss on me. She whimpered and moaned as we fought to kiss each other even more hungrily.

Breaking for a breath, she looked up at me (with my head still in her hands) in such a lustfully and loving way, hat I nearly broke down crying myself at the depth of the feelings coming up for this woman. "My God. Where have you been?"

And then both of us laughed at the absurd comically cliche nature of what I'd just said.

But that was only for a few short seconds, and we were eating each others faces again in hungry, passionate embrace.

At the next breath, she laughed hungrily and asked, "Why are our clothes still on? She licked her lips, and smiled so happily.

I lifted off of her, and rolled her over so I could get at the zipper to her skirt, and ripped it down. She rolled herself back over and lifted her hips so I could pull them off. She began pulling at her blouse as I did, ripping two of the buttons in the back.

"So much for that blouse," she panted, and reaching back unhooked her bra, her wonderfully full c-cups spilling out as she did.

I couldn't help myself, so I plunged in and took, first her left tit in my mouth and then her right. She squealed, and then began grabbing at the zipper of my jeans to take them off. My polo shirt came off just as easily as her blouse had.

"What's this?" She screamed as her hands grabbed at my raging hard on through my boxers. Taking them down past my hips, I rolled over myself and pulled them off, throwing them into the pile of clothes in the corner near the bathroom.

I looked down breathlessly at her body, almost naked below me, and took a breath in of her lovely scent. My eyes returned to hers, and we seemed to look deeply into each others souls. Why had I not found this woman before now? My God. Even her stretch marks seemed to be insanely beautiful.

I tore my gaze away from her, and began kissing and nibbling my way south to where her panties were still on. When I got to the waistband, I slowly 'unveiled' her everything, kissing and nibbling more softly now, until her cotton panties were revealing her bushy mound and opening up to her garden of delight.

I ran my nose rough her garden, taking in a whiff of her real scent. Dragging the completely off, I lifted her up and pulled the sheets all the say down, opening her legs wide for me to plunge into her fully.

I took another long sniff, and she giggled nervously. "Is there anything wrong?" she asked, sounding both playful and yet worried.

Instead of responding with words, I merely let my tongue do the 'talking,' lapping her in from her ass to her clit, drawing in a very sharp inbreathe. "OH. MY. GOD. Do that again!"

I returned to the start of my journey, and began running my tongue up thorough her sopping wet inner realm, leaving her gasping again. The next 'run' of my tongue stopped at her now flowing opening, where I stuck my tongue in as deep as I could. Her hips bucked up against my face again, with another scream of pleasure. "OH, God. What are you doing to--"

I exercised my tongue up and down, stopping every third lick to plunge back inside of her love cavern and drill for more delicious liquid. Only this time, she let loose with a stream of her juice into my mouth, as she bucked wildly thorough her second orgasm.

She bent down to where I was pleasuring her and grabbed my head, brining it up to kiss. "I want you inside me. NOW. Make-- Fuck me. PLEASE."

So I moved up to be more at her mouth, and grabbed my now throbbing rod, and after swishing it around in her juices, took the plunge. I sliced down inside of her hotly throbbing and oh, so wet pussy, and she grabbed at my hips and screamed again. "YES!"

I plunged, and she bucked her hips up to meet my thrusts and I was sure that the slapping noises were going to be heard on the fifth floor above us and must have been echoing though the building. Between those the sound of those wet thrusts and her screaming in ecstasy, I was sure I was going to be having complaints for days.

We came together in a grunt, and both of us hit the orgasm button at the same time. I order her through our combined throbbing pleasure, until we both collapsed, exhausted.

I rolled us over on our sides so I wouldn't crush her, and stayed inside of her through the spasms and the mini earthquakes that both of us were experiencing.

After a couple of minutes, I asked her playfully, "So do you feel safe now?"

She gasped, eyes wide, and whispered, "I've never felt that way before. My god. Why haven't I felt that way before?"

"Tell me who you're up to it, what happened to you that made you feel so... I don't know. Afraid earlier?"

"Keep making me feel like that, babe, and it won't matter." And then she began to cry once more.

I pulled her into my arms further, and cradled her head against me while I let her cry out whatever she needed to let out. I'll never hurt you like that, I told her in my head.

------------------

We made love again after an hour of recovery, and this time instead of being an animalistic craving, it was more like tender lovemaking.

I thrust into and out of her, making sure that I rubbed the head of my prick over her g-spot, bringing her to the point of ecstasy over and over again. She was crying and laughing at the same time, kissing me all over my face and neck in her thankfulness.