The Princess and the Pauper

1

It's another Friday evening, no different than most. I completed a bathroom reno today, money in the bank, bill's paid for the month, my son is with his mom this week; so, I have nothing at all planned to do this weekend.

I'm in my favorite watering hole, 'Shotz,' sitting on my usual stool at the far end of the bar, facing the door. I look at my watch, 5:17. I'm about half done my second rye and coke, pondering another drink and have a plate of hot wings, or picking up a pizza on the way home and watch the game.

The bright sunlight illuminating the dimly lit bar, signals someone entering, drawing the attention of everyone in the place. The only other patrons are a middle-aged couple in a booth near the back, and 3 young businessmen in suits at a table near the door.

She stops just inside the entrance, removing her sunglasses and tipping her head back, shaking her long, thick mane of wavy flaxen hair to settle behind her shoulders. She places the dark glasses in a small purse attached to a long gold chain over her left shoulder.

I estimate her to be 30ish, 5'6" extremely sexy. An extremely alluring, exquisite, shapely woman. A deep red satin, mini dress, open deep V front, the intersecting point of the shiny fabric is just above her navel, the top is loose enough, if she were to bend over slightly, a bountiful breast would be visible from an angle view; any abrupt upper body maneuver and one would certainly be exposed. Long muscle toned legs adorned with dark, lace-patterned, shiny silk stockings and red high heels.

My first thought is a very 'high class call girl,' but why would she enter a dive like this? The lack of thick, theatrical makeup hookers wear, (OR so I'm told) also suggests otherwise. Perhaps a model planning to meet someone, unaware of this old dinghy bar's atmosphere. However, those alluring legs, suggest a dancer.

After ample time for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, she surveys the room.

First sizing up the businessmen, individually, purposefully scanning, obviously judging, acknowledging them, she smiles, nodding.

She raises her head peers equally as studiously at the couple, only for a second or two, then to me. Our eyes meet, her head tilts slightly, a deep thoughtful gaze.

She proceeds my way, she moves fluidly, with grace, and noticeable poise, like a runway model, placing one foot directly in front of the other, maintaining direct eye contact with me. Behind her I notice the three men staring, ogling her, as her swaying hips, seductively move away, but definitely holding their gaze.

Fixated on me, as she approaches, a wide smile adorns her beautiful round face. She looks slightly uncomfortable, maybe a bit nervous, obviously being out of place in this bar.

All six seats along the front of the bar are vacant; yet she sat on the end to my right, with one stool between us.

Up close she looked even sexier than I first imagined.

I totally dismissed the hooker idea, could easily be a model, or an actress. Her green eyes dazzling brightly in the dimly lit bar, long thick eyelashes, a subtle hint of shimmering eyeshadow, for a very sultry look; puffy cheeks, slightly reddened, and natural not makeup; high cheekbones. Her thin also natural, reddish lips, with lip gloss, beneath a tiny, narrow, upturned nose, smiling seductively, showing smooth, bright white teeth. An extremely attractive women, no need for artificial enhancement, a true natural beauty.

I admit I imagined kissing her, sucking on her lower lip, running my fingers under her dress over her smooth skin to cup on of those bouncy boobs, while nuzzling and nibbling the nape of her long neck.

Ruby drop earrings, dangling from her pierced earlobes, would interfere with nibbling her almost non-existing earlobes.

Shrugging the gold chain from her shoulder, placing the small red clutch on the bar in front of her, she sat, wiggling her butt to get better comfortably seated on the barstool, the action of sitting exposed her thighs, nearly her privates, the tops of the silk stocking are attached to a red garter.

She was definitely feeling promiscuous when she chose this outfit. I'm confident she was seeking attention. The design of the dress demanded it, it was enticing, profoundly provocative, and sexy, so was she.

I could see the majority of her firm, round breasts, a crisp, distinct tan line visible on the sides of her bulging breasts; the material barely covering the areoles and nipples; as she twisted the darker skin edge of her areole peeked; and I'm sure she was aware I was enjoying the view.

{Eyes up here bucko!' came to mind}

I was enthralled, bewitched, she was stunningly sensual.

{I admit I view pornography, and dare I say; this voluptuous woman would be my favorite star.}

I detected a waft of intoxicating, expensive, mysterious perfume, an elegant fragrance, tangerine was my first thought, then I thought, maybe passion fruit, for such and elegant, mysterious, passionate lady.

She wore a gold chain necklace with a ruby pendant, matching the teardrop earrings, it dangled in the hollow, just above, her noticeable collar bone. A faint, barely visible peach fuzz like hair covering her smooth arms, her delicate wrist adorned with a diamond bracelet; if real, must be worth thousands.

Delicate, long, thin fingers, well-manicured, sculpted nails; a large expensive looking diamond ring on her right ring finger, possibly a relocated engagement ring; so, I checked, no wedding band, however, there is the evidence of a slight indent in the skin, indicating one had been recently removed.

{Thinking to myself} 'Do I want to get involved in an affair? It appears she just removed her wedding ring, is she here to cheat? Well, she certainly is sexy, and I've not had sex for a while? I was intrigued, extremely excited with anticipation, this enticing beauty sitting close, obviously desiring attention, most likely seeking affection.

So, let's proceed; ... cautiously, see where this may lead.'

She had a soft, melodical voice.

"Chantelle." She extends her right hand.

"Sorry, no, my name is Brian." I fight back a snicker.

She chuckles, nodding.

"Hi Brian, I'm Chantelle." I'm tempted to kiss the back of her hand, wondering how high classed a greeting she might be accustomed to. Every indication she appears to have a rich pedigree about her. Unsure, I gently shake it.

I wink, to gauge her reaction.

"What's your pleasure?" Jerry the bartender/owner's favorite greeting as he drops a coaster, sliding it toward her.

"Champagne please."

"Are you celebrating Chantelle?" I queried, holding up my nearly empty glass to Jerry, to signal I'd like a refill.

"I am," Her voice a bit shaky; I detected a hint of remorse.

"Sort of," a slight pause.

"I just delivered divorce papers to my cheating husband." Her voice lilted towards the end expressing some glee.

Jerry places her drink on the coaster and set napkins in front of us. I hold my glass towards her; she clinks them together.

"To your fresh start, may your new life surpass your desires and dreams." We both take sips. Gazing into each other's eyes, gauging each other, 'sizing each other up' I believe is the saying. Her expression brightens, eyes gleaming. She gets a look of admiration.

"Brian, that is inspirational; an empathetic, and appropriate toast, thank you." She pauses, smiling provocatively, nodding, peering intently over her flute as she took another, longer sip.

Her nervousness appears to have diminished somewhat.

My curiosity piqued, what is this exquisite woman's intentions. I'm not going to be aggressive, but I hope my initial, carnal thoughts are correct.

"Are you currently in a relationship Brian?"

'Bold, direct, hmmm, I might need to make my decision fairly quick, I do believe she is hunting.'

She sets the flute on the coaster, two fingers of her left hand on either side of the stem, holding the base like it might levitate, or fall over, her right fingers delicately toying with the tall glass, her thumb and forefinger slowly stroking it up and down like a dick.

{I think}

'I wonder if that's a Freudian thing, is she doing that unconsciously; OR is she deliberately making the sexual connotation, sensuously stroking it like a penis for my benefit.

I look intently at her, she's biting her bottom lip, a sultry, lustful look in her eyes; ok, she's definitely doing it intentionally.'

"Nope, I'm divorced, a few years ago." I hold up my glass,

"And I'm still celebrating." I chuckle. She laughs and nods.

"I've never been single; I was in a long-term monogamist relationship throughout high school, I thought he was the one." She's still stroking her glass, looking at it, talking to it, more so than me.

"He went across the country for college, got a girl pregnant, they're still married; maybe he was the one."

She took a healthy swig from her flute, draining about half the bubbly liquid. Looking lustfully at me.

Damn she's absolutely gorgeous.

"Then I dated Cliff throughout college, we married 8 years ago, right after graduation, he joined my father's company."

She tips back her champagne, finishing it in one gulp. Jerry refills it again as soon as the empty glassware touches the coaster. Again, she starts toying with the glass staring at its contents, her fingers seductively stroking.

"About a year ago I noticed a change in our relationship, I seemed no longer important to him; we rarely did anything as a couple. I accused him of having an affair, he claimed he was just so swamped with work."

"I accepted that, I believed him. Soon after our sex life drastically tapered off, declined steadily, confident he was cheating; I dressed sexier, bought negligees, thinking I might win him back. 4 months ago, he quit wanting sex with me, always having excuses."

She tipped back her flute, finishing another, Jerry was immediately there.

'Is she building liquid courage, or drowning her thoughts of Cliff?'

"Oh, why am I babbling on about my fucked-up marriage. I'm sorry Brian. You don't need to hear about my shitty life problems."

Hearing her story, I'm confident she's not cheating, she's horny, and finally free to roam. I decide to pursue, she definitely came in here looking for a hook-up; she's attracted to me, hasn't had sex for some time, gorgeous and horny... Mama didn't raise a fool'

"Please continue Chantelle, I'm a good listener, I won't judge you, and I won't offer advice." I lift my glass; I touch her hand my fingers glide over hers, I caress the back of her hand. She doesn't seem to notice; I take that as a positive.

"Chantelle, it's obvious you need to vent. I was planning to sit here for a couple more drinks, grab a pizza on my way home to a football game or a movie." I signal for refills.

"I'm happy to listen. I know I had to talk about my ex before I could move on." I give her my best smile and a wink, squeezing her hand gently, my thumb rubbing her delicate, soft fingers. Especially the meaty area between her thumb and forefinger a known erogenous zone.

"Chantelle, you're extremely attractive, you seem friendly, we both have struggled through failed marriages, we're adults, don't be shy, please go on, get it out."

She stared intently at me; I could tell by her stoic expression she was in deep thought, pondering something serious. She twisted off her seat, moved to the closer stool; squarely facing me, she dragged her drink over.

"Brian, do you sincerely find me sexy and attractive?"

{'Ok, it's time for me to make a move, I'm not going home alone.'}

"Chantelle, you are absolutely stunning, sensuous, extremely sexy, an absolute '10'."

I raise my eyebrows, clutching her hand between mine.

"If I walked into a bar and saw you, I would think you are out of my league and sit across the room ogling you; just like those three suits by the door. They've been staring at you, since you arrived, they turned their chairs to watch you. They're dreaming, likely fantasizing about you without clothes, doing lewd, carnal things with you in their bed." I lift my glass, take a sip.

{Ok, here goes}

Chantelle, honestly, I'm likely thinking the same things they are. Thinking how lucky any man would be to go home with you."

"Really," She smiled, her face lit up, beaming with delight.

"Thank you; that means a lot." She downs her bubbly, puts her glass on the bar; stood and twirled.

"I bought this dress, specifically with the thought of teasing Cliff and his mistress Becky, when I served him the divorce papers." She settled on the stool.

"It didn't work, I got no response. I don't know why I remained faithful to that jerk, for so long."

Her legs were slightly parted, allowing me a good view of her upper thighs, the smooth alabaster skin above the silk stockings, held by a red garter, even the glimpse of the black lace fabric covering her vulva. I was caught looking, I felt a warmth flush on my face, knowing a blush developed.

She warmly smiled, pleased I was looking, I think.

"As I left Cliff's office, I made a conscious decision to find someone to hook up with; I wasn't going home alone tonight; I was getting fucked; even if I had to stand waiting outside a strip club."

She held her freshly refilled glass to me, waiting for another clink. Then tipping back about 1/2 of it.

"When I exited his building, I saw this bar across the street and decided to check out the selection of patrons in here."

She leaned forward. I once again was caught looking down, but I was rewarded with a flash of a delectable breast.

"Brian, does this dress excite you?" She leaned forward; wiggled her shoulders, provocatively, an audacious gesture, her bouncy bosom became unobstructed, I got full view. I fought to not to reach out and grab one.

'The champagne has had an effect, she's no longer nervous, I sense it's time for me to make a strong sexual advance; I don't want regrets and go home alone.'

She once more drained her flute.

"It's not the dress that excites me Chantelle, it's what's inside."

"Chantelle, you are stunning, you would enhance anything you wear, Hell, I'd be aroused seeing you in a potato sack." I pause, stare at her intently.

"Especially in a suit; your birthday suit, that would definitely be my favorite."

"Damn Brian, fate brought me here. I entered this bar feeling promiscuous, you excite me; I was attracted to you for a reason."

I intentionally stare at her firm nipples, poking against the fabric.

{'All women prefer a confident, aggressive approach, and Chantelle has shown she's ready. So, it's time I become the aggressor, I'll either get slapped or we're leaving together.'}

I lean close and whisper.

"Your nipples are erect."

My right hand settles on her upper thigh, moving the hem of her dress; my fingertips trace along the edge of the garter strap, gliding higher.

I lean forward almost touching her ear, my left fingers sneak under the dress, I wiggle her erect nipple between my fingers. I whisper softly, hot breath in her ear.

"Are you wet down here, are you sexually aroused?" My smaller fingertips follow the edge of her panties, I boldly rub her labia through the lacy fabric with my forefinger.

"Mmm hmmm, I'm definitely wetter now." She coos, closing her eyes, putting her hand down to cover mine; moving the silky material aside, my fingers discover a smooth, clean-shaven, probably waxed, vulva. My finger explores the inner edges of her wet labia, up to touch her enlarged clit. Her hand is still covering mine, a sensuous moan escapes her lips.

"Oh Brian, I don't remember the last time I had a decent, satisfying fuck, gawd I'm so horny, I want you to take me home and fuck me."

"It's been some time for me too Chantelle." I'm rolling her nipple, my forefinger continuously teasing the sensitive, tiny nub, my remaining fingers rising and falling along the inner surface of her pussy lips.

"Brian, i need a good fuck, are you a good lover?" She moans, opening her eyes, tipping her head toward me.

"Well, yes, I do believe I am, I've never heard any complaints." I chuckle, my fingers still manipulating her soft flaps, spreading her juices.

"I usually receive compliments during pillow talk or having breakfast." I blow lightly on the nape of neck, I know by her changed breathing and sighs, she's bordering a climax.

"Brian, I want you," She murmurs, struggling to be coherent.

"If you truly find me sexy, take me home, prove to me you are a good lover, give me a good fucking, I need at least a couple orgasms." She starts rubbing my dick through my jeans.

I glance over, all 3 men are smiling and staring. They're able to see we're interacting, but her back is to them, so they can't visually see what we're doing; so, they're likely using their imagination as to what's actually happening. I nod and smile back. Turning my glance toward the couple in the back booth; I realize they have an unobstructed side view to our carnal actions.

They are both smiling at me, I become embarrassed and almost stop, then I see, she is being fingered by him, and he is getting a hand job from her.

"Oh, gawd Brian, I could easily cum." She presses my fingers further into her slit and sighs, sliding forward to the edge of the stool, parting her legs further, allowing me deeper access. I insert a second digit, curling up, wiggling them on her g spot, my thumb rubs across her clit. I nibble the nape of her neck, my fingers pinching her nipple. I whisper.

"Go ahead Chantelle, cum on my fingers, you deserve it."

"I'mmm cuummming." She quivers and sighs, grabbing my wrist, forcing my hand faster; then clamping her thighs tight she shivers. Holding my hand from moving, she tugs me out of her, she sighs deeply. I remove my hand from her tit.

"Geeze, that was damn good Brian." She adjusts herself back on the stool. Her hand returns to my cock, she scrapes her fingernails over my hard dick, trapped in my pantleg.

"I want that, I can tell your big, I want all of that in my cunt."

"Let's go, I want so much more." Staring at me with glazed eyes. Her hand rubbing my erection, her gorgeous face has a seriousness, a desperation. She downs her champagne.

"I'm so horny, I might need to keep you all weekend."