All of the following is complete and total fiction. Not a word of it occurred, nor would it.
Honey Bee
Starring Scarlett Johansson
(MF, HJ, Oral, Anal, Exhib, Cons)
by MrMaxLord
Steve was not a hook-up master. It wasn't that he had anything against the idea. Far from it. The idea of one-off, guilt free sex between two consenting adults had several different layers of appeal to it. He just wasn't very good or lucky at it.
It wasn't that Steve couldn't talk to women. He could. But he was better at it when it came to looking for more than just a hook-up. He could start a good conversation with any woman. But just enough to get in someone's pants? Something about it tied his tongue up and made him look like a total dunce.
And he'd had a couple one night stands, but those were due to women doing the very easy job of getting into his pants. That obviously didn't take much though. Honestly all he needed to hear was "Hey, wanna fuck?" and he would have been ready to go, as most guys would. But getting a one night stand out of a woman was an actual challenge, at least for him.
Maybe it was because it wasn't a goal of his. He liked getting laid, but he also liked there being more to it than sex. Still...the idea of not having to call someone the next day or having any reason to stick around post-orgasm had an appeal. Which was why he downloaded a hook-up app.
The app was unique. It played up to Steve's strength in finding one night stands. The women did all the work. All he had to do was upload his profile and wait for someone to pick him.
That led him too a no name bar in the meatpacking district of New York. That was actually the name of the place, the No Name Bar. Of course you wouldn't see that on the outside on a big glowing neon sign. But the address still showed up on Google Maps.
This was where he was told to meet the woman in question. The woman who picked him. He had a little bit of pride in that. That a woman, out of all the other guys on the app, many more than likely way more attractive than he was, would pick him for no other reason than to fuck. It was a nice ego boost.
The woman, on her profile at least, went by the name Honey Bee. Not her real name but the whole point of the app was for the woman to stay anonymous until she was ready to reveal herself. He didn't mind that aspect. Just water off Steve's back.
The bar itself was a clash of modern and classic ideas about a dive bar. The furniture all had that classic wood look and feel. Deep browns and lighter tones, all seemingly well worn with age. The lights weren't too bright nor dim. The special lighting for inebriation. Not too bright to bother your whiskey soaked eyes but bright enough to make out who you're going home with.
The modern pieces were obvious. The digital jukeboxes and the arcade machines, as well as not a hint of smoke throughout the entire bar. It made it clear to get to his destination.
Honey Bee had given Steve clear instructions She was sitting in the back booth of the bar. The very back. Past the red topped billiards tables and digital dartboard. To the right. Her back would be to him. Clean and clear instructions. Perfectly clear.
So Steve made his way in the bar. Past the drinkers, past the digital jukebox. Past the red billiards table and digital darts to the very back of the bar. Unlike the full room up front, the deeper he got the more sparingly the bar was populated, like the patrons knew whoever liked to go to the back liked it nice and quiet. There was a different vibe in the back. Even a different smell. Up front didn't smell bad at all, but it was more...musky. A bit more chaotic. Open with the insanity that only New York could bring. In the back...there was an undercurrent of that lightning. It was trapped in a bottle, waiting to be unleashed. Steve could relate.
As he felt that electricity conduct in his blood, he finally put eyes on the booth in question, and there she was, long blonde hair being the only thing he could see. There was his Honey Bee. He straightened out his suit and checked his breath and breathed deep. It was now or never.
However, no amount of bracing himself could have prepared him for what he saw when he approached the woman. She was gorgeous, beyond that honestly. Sexy too, wearing a formfitting, low cut dress that displayed cleavage that could only be described as legendary and holding an ice cold glass of vodka with a twist.
None of that was the shocking part. What was shocking was who all that, plus a gorgeous and knowing smile now on display, belonged to. The owner was one Scarlett Johansson and Steve's shocked reaction gave her a sexy case of the giggles.
"Steve, correct?" she asked. He could only nod in response. "Then that seat is for you." She motioned to the empty area of the booth right across from him and Steve sat as directed. "Would you like a drink? On me."
"Um...yeah." he replied. "Jack. No mixer or anything. Just straight and neat."
"Good choice," Scarlett said. "I'm usually a whiskey girl. Tonight though...Grey Goose with a twist felt right." She looked to the bartender, getting the older gentleman's attention. "Oliver? Would you be a dear and prepare my friend here a Jack? Neat please."
"Right away Ms. Johansson," the bartender said. In a flash the brown liquor was in front of Steven, still in shock and Scarlett loving every second of it.
"Not what you expected I take it?" she asked. "Don't be shy. You're not the first man I've seen with that reaction."
"Really?" Steven asked.
"Of course. A man like yourself may be expected to get laid with a meet-up like this. But with Scarlett Johansson? It's a shock."
