Jims Bar

Once upon a time I used to work my way through Jim's Bar in Carbondale, IL, with a small paper bag full of apples under my arm. I'd take out an apple and ask a lovely lassie,

-Would you like an apple?

One in ten would say,

-Sure.

I'd give her an apple and then I'd ask,

-Would you like to sleep with me?

-At four in the afternoon?

So I switched to later in the day.

-Would you like an apple? Would you like to sleep with me?

Then I'd simply get my apple back, sometimes with a bite taken out of it. Sometimes with the bite, back, too.

Once upon a time in the Midwest I'd work my way through Jim's bar around closing time with an apple in my hand.

-Would you like an apple?

A cross-eyed drunk psychology major (or such) would ask me back,

-Do I know you from somewhere? Can I offer you a drink? Hik!

I kept my apple.

I moved to the east side, the black side, of town.

-Anybody here want an apple?

It turned out to be a gay bar. The guys were all over me.

I moved back to the center of town, to Das Fass, where the steins were huge and Horst Wessel played almost constantly.

-Ein Apfel?

-The fuck?

-Would you like an apple?

-Go screw yourself with your Apfel.

Next woman.

-Would you like an apple?

-Was sagst du?

-Willst du ein apfel?

-Ein Apfel? Go fuck yourself, Apfel!

I was almost ready to.

I climbed up to the first floor where there were only a few tables, mostly empty. I plopped down and ordered a beer. The boss came around, then a few of his waitresses.

-Blablabla blablabla.

I recognized one of the waitresses, Bonnie. I knew her from Old Greek and from a lesbian friend we had in common. She recognized me and smiled. The boss looked at me, looked at her and said, so that even I could hear,

-Looks like your friend's dog just died.

To myself,

-Or your dog's friend.

When they were finished arguing over prices, customers and drunks, she came over to me and asked,

-Wanna see a film with me tomorrow? A Bertolucci film, in the Student Center. It should be good.

I looked up at her.

-You're just feelin' sorry for me.

-Silly, I barely know you. It's you who's feeling sorry for you. It's only a movie.

I stared at her. We made a date.

On Saturday, I showed up at her house on Forest Street two hours before the film. I was nervous. She was relaxed. I got coffee. She drank thee. But she was so knocked out from work that day that she asked me if I didn't mind if she first took a nap. She plopped down on her bed, fully clothed and faded away. I thought, if you can't beat them. I took off my shoes and socks and laid down beside her on my back on her double bed.

She started snoring, I was wide awake. Her alarm clock ticked.

I was still awake when she rolled over, still asleep, and threw an arm and a leg over me. She kissed whatever was close: my cheek.

When I turned my head and returned the kiss, I got a bit of her tongue in my mouth.

She opened her eyes and laughed. We started kissing again.

She rolled on top of me, sat up and started unbuckling my pants. She got up enough to pull my jeans off. Then my undies. She held my dick. I was hard in about 10 seconds.

She sat away from me on the edge of the bed and stripped out of her jeans and underpants. Then she got back and sat on my lap. She wiped the head of my cock up and down on her wet labia, aimed me up her cunt, sat down and took me in.

-Oh, fuck! she said.

She rocked her pelvis into me. And slowly picked up speed.

-Ever seen... Last Tango? she panted. Wanna do... butter... up my butt?

I didn't answer.

She slowed down, stopped. She stripped out of her t-shirt, no bra underneath. God, she had beautiful tits.

I started to unbutton my shirt, but she stopped me. She ripped my shirt open, letting the buttons fly. With her still on top of me, she pulled both of my shirts off over my head.

She got back into grinding, even harder.

She got on her feet and squatted on my crotch. She plopped up and down on it to the sounds of her wet cunt and her rhythmic moaning. She licked two fingers and whacked away at her clit.

Her eyes were closed, her mouth was open.

Plop, plop, plop, plop, plop, plop.

-I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come, I said.

-No, no! Not yet.

She stopped, got off of me and laid on her stomach.

-Take a sec, and then I want you to come up my ass, nice and hard.

Sounded good. I wet my dick with spit, just to make sure and drove it in, up her tight little asshole. She gasped from pain and pleasure. She started fingering her clit again. While she whacked away at her clit I whacked away at her butt. Slap, slap, slap! I was ready to come again. She, too, to hear from it.

I shot a load up her ass. Then a second and a third.

And she cried like a banshee.

I laid down on top of her.

When she calmed down, she said,

-Fuck the movie. This is better.

I hugged her from behind, one hand on a shoulder, one hand holding a breast. My dick stayed hard inside her.

Then I heard the sounds of a key in a door and the front door opening.

And the light turned blue. I shook my head and blinked twice to try to change it back, but it didn't work. I grabbed a sheet to cover us.

A few seconds later Sarah, our mutual friend, and another woman walked past the foot end of the bed.

Sarah stopped and asked,

-Is that Roy?

Bonnie didn't answer, but I gave a quiet

-Uh-huh.

Minutes later a somewhat fat, naked, Sarah and her athletic, naked, girlfriend came back and crawled up on Bonnie's bed, next to us. Bonnie and I moved over.

-Hope you don't mind.

Within seconds they were hugging and kissing and sticking fingers up each other's cunts, or whatever.

The doorbel rang.

Sarah unplugged herself and went to open the door. It was Steve and Cathy, friends of mine from a few doors down.

They came in, stripped down, laid at our feet and went at it doggy-style.

Bonnie and I sat up in bed, to give them room.

The doorbel rang. Sarah got up again, opened the door and this time left it ajar.

It was Mike and Linda, from the Quads, near campus. They entered in a 69, he standing, with a pussy in his face, she upside-down with his cock up her throat. They plopped down on the floor near the bed and continued on their merry way.

The door creaked open again and it was Doug and Jim, in leather underwear and matching accessories. They stripped out of their leather things. Jim climbed on top of Bonnie. Doug got on top of me, with his whopper of a cock aimed at my mouth, before we threw them both off. They decided to fuck each other.

Bonnie leaned over towards me.

-Is this going somewhere?

I could have sworn I saw Stan Laurel walk in holding the top of a long ladder. And then leave again in the same direction, holding the bottom of the same.

And then the whole cast from the Fellini film "I clowns." Passing by I recognized Charlie Rivel, Pierre Étaix and Annie Fratellini. Annie gave me a wink.

I waved.

Ian Paisly walked in, dressed as a green leprechaun, holding hands with Gerry Adams, draped in the British flag and wearing an orange bowler. Ian growled at me,

-Aye, but are you a catholic atheist or a protestant atheist?!

I said,

-Neither, I'm vegetarian.

And then they disappeared. Simply disappeared. All of them. I blinked twice and the blue light, too, was gone.

I heard a key getting stuck into the front door again. Sarah entered and passed the foot end of the bed.

-Is that Roy?

I nodded.

She disappeared into her bedroom in back and nothing happened for such a long time that Bonnie and I eventually fell asleep.