How in the world did anyone ever find this bar in the first place? I would not expect a house to be on this little dirt road in the woods, much less a bar full of people. And talk about full! I could hear the sounds through the closed car windows and immediately began to rethink accepting this invitation from my brother-in-law to come here.
I had been living in an apartment for over two months after I took a job offer in the same town where my brother-in-law, Stan, lived with his wife Bette. My wife and family were still back in Ohio waiting for school to end before they would join me in another two months.
Knowing that I was probably bored out of my gourd sitting in the apartment alone every night, Stan called and invited me to a birthday bash for a friend at a country bar.
"Hey, it'll be cool!" he pitched. "There will be a whole lot of people there, so you won't look out of place. Probably a lot of free beer, probably some karaoke and dancing. We won't stay out too late; come on. It'll be fun."
What have I got to lose? An evening in front of the boob tube or free beer? I'm there.
"Oh, yeah, wear shorts and flip-flops. It's real casual. I mean, real casual," Stan offered.
But I mean, really, there's casual, and there's this... this bar in the woods. Yeah, it's got beer signs outside, so they have electricity, that's good. But it's in the woods! All I could see nearby were little wooden shacks.
But we parked and walked into the place. The noise was deafening, but the first thing I felt was a cold bottle of beer being pushed in my hands, and this big, burly hulk of a guy with a huge smile saying "hi."
"Uh, hi, I'm Brad," I offered.
But before I could thank him or even get his attention he had turned and grabbed Stan by his shoulder whipping him around and pushing a beer into his hand.
"Mike!," Stan shouted. I could barely make out what Stan was telling me, but it was something like, "Brad, this is Mike. He organized the party."
"Hey Mike," I grabbed his huge paw, still cold and wet from holding the beer.
"Go eat," he yelled in my ear. "There's a full table over there with lots of good shit. Help yourself."
And he was off being the good host.
I followed Bette as she hugged and laughed with her friends as she'd meet them. When she noticed me behind her she began to introduce me to the ladies explaining who I was and my situation.
Each said hello and told me that I was going to have fun tonight.
I smiled and thanked them and headed toward the food.
With my plate piled high I made my way to a far corner of the saloon to eat and drink and just watch the festivities. Boy, this place was packed and it seemed that everybody knew each other, and as I feared, I was the odd one out.
The crowd looked to be a bit older than me, quite a bit older than me. I figured most at probably 50 and above. Due to lack of female companionship over the last few, long weeks, I had developed a habit of watching pretty girls in public and playing with my fantasies. Well, it sure looked like slim pickings tonight, unless I raised my minimum age by a few decades. I should have guessed, I mean, Stan's about 10 years older than me, so naturally his friends... oh well.
And then I saw her. A blonde came walking out of the kitchen with a casserole dish in her gloved hands. Compared to everyone else in the place she was hot! Yeah, she probably would not have made my radar in a crowded mall, but at least I knew that I would have some entertainment this evening just watching this beauty move about the place.
It was as if I were in a trance watching her rearrange the table to fit the dish. She had short blonde hair and was full-figured. No, not really fat, but with an ample bosom; no, I mean really big tits. Her ass was the absolute perfect size for her frame - not huge but just right. I saw her joke with some of the guys near the table, and she had a real flirty manner about her. Damn, who was she? And is she going to stay in the kitchen all night? I immediately started a fantasy about her. I just wanted to see those tits again.
My reverie was broken when Bette and one of her friends came to sit at the table with me.
"Brad, this is Susie. She's the wife of the birthday boy," Bette offered.
I shook her hand and we talked a bit about our jobs, her hubby, the kids. Then a couple of more of the women came by to see Bette, and I was introduced to them as well. I realized that I was meeting just the women and few of the guys. I kinda liked that.
"Who's the kid?" another lady coming from the bar asked Bette. It's been a long time since I was called a kid, and at 42 you'd think I could sit at the grown-up table. But like I said, the crowd was appreciably my senior.
As I was talking to one of the women on my left I felt two strong arms grab my shoulders, and I looked forward in surprise. Blondie was right there holding me at arm's length looking at me! I was trying to figure out what was going on. Did she see me ogling her? Did I do something wrong? Damn, those tits are even bigger up close! All of these things went through my mind in milliseconds.
"Oh my god, I thought he was Earl, Bette! I was saying, 'what's Earl doing here?' He kind of looked like Earl from the side, but he's a whole lot better looking than Earl, that's for sure!" she exclaimed.
The other women concurred, "you got that right," "he's not Earl, that's for sure," "he makes Earl look like a pile of shit."
I didn't know who Earl was, but I'm glad I wasn't him. But I'm glad I resembled him if only to get Blondie's attention.
"Hi, I'm Frankie," she offered.
I started, "I'm..."
"This is my brother-in-law, Brad," Bette began her story which all the other women had already heard.
"So, you moving here?" Frankie asked.
"Yes, I'm living in an apartment now near downtown. Nice commute; I walk to work."
"Oh, a bachelor pad, huh? Bet there's some wild times in there some nights," she winked at me and laughed with the women.
"Oh yeah, real wild, like when I burn the popcorn in the microwave, or wash whites with colors," I joked.
We laughed a bit more, then Frankie left to take care of the food table again.
Bette offered, "she's Mike's wife, you know."
No, I didn't know. I didn't understand if she was just stating a fact or giving me a warning. Whatever, I could still watch her move about, but from now on I was going to make sure that Mike didn't catch me.
I ate a bit more and drank even more. I even paid for a couple of drinks when one of the friends wasn't watching. There were a few older guys there who took pleasure in filling their buddies' needs in the drinking department. I guess an ego thing. I even got cussed at for buying a beer by some old coot sitting at the bar.
"Damn, boy. Tell me next time you need a fucking beer. You don't need to be going spending none of your own damn money," he slurred.
I thanked him and told him I'd get him next time.
Before I made it back to my table bright lights came on and the jukebox was silenced. Mike had a microphone in his hand and wished a happy birthday to whoever the guy was who was having this birthday... Susie's husband, whatever his name is. Then he thanked all those people who helped put on the party, especially his wife, Frankie, who worked her butt off organizing food, but she's still got a ways to go to work it all off, he quipped. Then he thanked everybody for showing up to celebrate. Then he thank me saying "We even got people who came all the way from Ohio to be here tonight. Thanks for coming, Brad!"
And the ladies started to clap and cheer. Then the men started joking and hollering about the "young thing" or "fresh meat."
As soon Mike finished speaking the lights were lowered again and the voice of a DJ came on saying it was dancing time. Of course, this being a country bar the music of choice was country and western, and the first song was a line dance song. All the women, at least those that could stand, attacked the dance floor and began moving as one, in rhythm with the music. Damn, some of those old women could move!
But, of course, one stood out from the lot - Frankie. She was there, over to the right, dancing with a wiggle that was driving me crazy. I watched her heavy breasts bounced as she moved and bounced herself.
Dammit, I was getting an erection just watching her. I felt like I was back in high-school again. Let's see, it's been eight damn weeks since I got laid. Hell, I'm overdue for an erection about now. Might as well sit back and enjoy it. I could take matters in hand when I got back home.
The next few songs were the old classics, some Texas Swing and two-steps. I enjoyed watching the couples having fun on the floor. I wish that my wife were here to dance or that I could work up the courage to ask one of the women to dance. Of course, I knew which one I would ask.
A hand on my shoulder "woke" me up from my daydreaming. Frankie.
"Come on," she said as she grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor.
I didn't even have time to object. It was almost like a continuation of my fantasy where I was watching her from afar. Now I was watching her right in front of me, and, boy, was I getting an eyeful!
She gyrated to the music with an extra beat in her hips; her boobs bouncing about barely controlled beneath her blouse. I stared openly with a smile on my face as I tried to move to the music as well.
She saw me staring a few times but would just smile, close her eyes and turn her head. Maybe it was my imagination, but every time she would catch me stealing a look at her chest she would put just a little more "oomph" in her hips, or she would turn around with her back to me and thrust her cheeks towards me.
Shit, I was dancing with a hard-on now. Yep, just like in high school over 20 years ago.
When the song ended, I took her hand and thanked her for the dance; she instead responded by hugging me tightly.
"I just saw you sittin' there by yourself, and I just had to be a good hostess," she aaid into my ear.
I limped back to my seat, thankful for the dim light offering camouflage to my swollen crotch.
Twenty minutes. That's how long it took for my dick to recede. And that's how long it took for Frankie to approach my table for another dance.
"I figured you're too shy to ask me, but I'm not too shy to ask the cutest boy in the room to dance with me," she said.
"Well, cutest girl, cutest boy, they should dance together, don't you think?" I asked.
"Yep, they should," she paused to consider me and smiled.
