To Smokie's Bar, deep in the heart of the throbbing city. Behind the bright, pastel colours of the suburbs, past the smog of the motorways, away from the neat precision of the business district and just down the road from the industrial complexes. It's ten past midnight on a typical Friday night, music blares from jukeboxes in this sleazy area and An eclectic cast of characters walk and run the streets flitting between the pitch black shadows and the bright neon lights.
Inside the bar, the barman washes and polishes glasses. Cigarette smoke pervades the atmosphere and hangs around the lights at the low ceiling, hanging over the inhabitants like a dark cloud that has seen all this life has to throw at it. You would think the bar would be thronged with people clammering for a last drink as the barman has just called last orders. But no, not one patron sits on the hard, wooden stools or leans on the bar. Instead, the twenty five regulars who spend every Friday night down at Smokies are where they always are, crowded in a horseshoe around a pool table in the far corner of the bar. This is a place where denim is much in evidence, cowboy boots and hats, real working clothes. It's not the type of place that newcomers stumble across easily and when they do they are rarely welcomed, you'd need a strong recommendation to become a part of this crowd. And maybe you wouldn't want to. But maybe you would.
Seemingly oblivious to their audience, two players pace and slink around the table, intent on their shots. It's the last game of the night before the other entertainment starts and the loser will have to buy the winner a drink. Manny, is losing and doesn't want to, not with everyone watching. A bead of sweat breaks and spills from his forehead and trickles down his nose and into his bushy moustache as he bends forward to take a shot. But no one in the audience is in the least bit interested in Manny or his shot, right now he isn't important. Whether he realises that or not we don't know but he misses the simple black ball and allows his opponent back to the table. Instantly, the crowd become more interested and crane their necks up to get a better view.
And on whom are all these eyes trained then? Enter the lovely Sarah, pool table right. She is clad in a T back top connected around her neck and middle of back with the flimsiest of ties, it's bright pink and barely covers her pert little bosoms, though plenty shows round the side of her outfit. She also has the tiniest, black, micro-mini skirt (nearly) covering her superbly rounded ass but not much more. Surely there are panties up there and all the guys strain to see if there are - not that it matters. Then there are her long thin legs, beautifully encased in black seamed stockings, low enough to allow a peak of her white skin. Finishing the look are a pair of knee length black leather boots, polished to perfection.
Sarah bends over the table seductively, her long hair (normally scarlet coloured but for now dyed raven black) cascading over her bare shoulders and baize and she nonchalantly slams the black home to win the match. She smiles a big, white toothed smile at Manny and indicates with her hand that she needs a drink. The barman has a Scotch lined up and Sarah downs the shot in one, slamming the glass down on the edge of the pool table.
Manny joined the expectant throng and Sarah took centre stage climbing atop the green table top, supporting herself with the long wooden cue. Sarah's cherry red lips curve into a knowing smile and the crowd revel in how she fondles the cue, each imagining it is their hardening cocks. Up on this wide pedestal the guys can see that, indeed, Sarah is not wearing underwear tonight. The barman, barely looking up, turns the rock music down low and walks to the front doors and locks them. No-one wants to be disturbed on a Friday night.
Sarah's hips start to sway sexily in a seductive dance and the audience are rapt in their attention to this lithe nymph, who is right now, sex on legs, She traces her long tongue along the tip of the pool cue smacks her lips while slipping her hand under her loose top and fondling the perfect, small breasts held under there. Already there are visible ridges in many of the men's trousers and they are only going to get harder, but one question fills everybody's head. Who will be the lucky three tonight?
Next to the bar stands Linda, wife of the bar's owner. She is just finishing counting up a roll of money as Sarah dances atop the pool table. Satisfied that all the money is there she lifts a glass bowl that holds twenty five folded bits of paper that each of the men in the bar have paid $25 for and walks over to below Sarah. Standing below her she looks up at Sarah's smooth shaven pussy but displays no emotion and waits for Sarah to notice her before lifting up the bowl for Sarah to pick the first number.
What does that number signify?
It's simple really. The guy who corresponds to the first number that Sarah picks will join her at the table and receive a blow job from lovely nineteen year old sex goddess. That's not all though, the second number chosen will have the fruits of Sarah's pussy to enjoy while the third shall gain entrance to her sweet, puckered asshole. It's the Friday night tradition at Smokie's Bar and it's about to get started!
Sarah stretches her long, thin fingers into the bowl and hooks out a piece of paper, she doesn't look at it yet, rather she places it between her gleaming white teeth and begins a striptease atop the table. Her long, pale arms reach behind her and as she writhes her hips in time to the music she deftly unhooks her top at her neck and pulls her arms forward in a flourish revealing her pert, firm breasts to a round of applause and cheers from the expectant throng. She tosses the top to the floor and continues her hypnotic strip, her long fingernails (painted scarlet) pressing down the side of her hips and entering under the fabric of her tiny skirt. From the inside she rolls up that skirt until her heavenly, shaven pussy is in full view and her skirt is a tight roll of fabric around her waist. As she moves to the music she wriggles the skirt up and over her arms and head and tosses onto her discarded top and now dances nude save for her stockings (which she never removes here) and her kinky boots.
A small pause while Sarah lowers herself so that her delightful frame is perched on her ass on the edge of the pool table, legs hanging down. Smiling at her wrapt audience she hoists her right leg up until it rests on the table also, allowing a wide open clean view of her glistening pussy, and she seductively peels the tight, leather boot from her leg letting it fall to the floor. Her right boot follows suit quickly after and the audience become a little more tense, they know that the preliminaries are over now and the main event is about to unfold.
Sarah plucks the piece of paper from between her teeth that have kept hold of it so diligently and , looking up at her adoring audience to prolong the tension she smiles widely and speaks in a low, sultry voice.
"Number 24 come on down, my mouth awaits" as she says this she sexily plays her tongue along and over her lips, as if licking her lips in anticipation of a truly great meal.
But few in the bar failed to notice to split second wiping out of Sarah's smile when she saw who stepped forward brandishing the corresponding number on another piece of paper. It was Manny, he who so recently had been soundly and publicly humiliated at the pool table, as he was most times he plucked the courage up to re-challenge the cocky Sarah. That history had led to Manny taking even greater pleasure in his infrequent bar lottery luck and he being Sarah's least favourite winner. He only got in because his father had been a long-time regular. Still Sarah managed to get her game face back on and her smile glowing, if not quite as widely as previously.
Manny snickered seeing Sarah's regret that he had won tonight, usually she was only too anxious to get things started with the first guy. He also knew that Sarah was such a nymphomaniac that it would not take long for her to not care whose cock it was she was servicing and would only care for where her next entertainment would come that Friday night.
Sarah cocked her head coyly to one side and closed her eyes, she would just imagine it was someone else, besides most cocks tasted pretty much the same she had found. Manny unleashed his, proud in the fact it was one of the biggest of the group, and there were plenty of big cocks in this bar of a Friday night. The slab of thick penis meat that flopped out was already three quarters of the way erect and would rapidly be as stiff as the proverbial board. It was nine inches long and had an impressive radius that had Sarah stretching her mouth in preparation of accepting. Manny was obviously not one for pubic grooming of any kind because at the base of this large penis grew an unruly tangle of greasy black hair that were it not for their curliness would perfectly match the mop on his head.
"Eyes open Sarah, I want to see every look on your face as you take this nice and deep. You may have beat me at pool again tonight but I have a feeling I I'll be feeling like a winner in a minute" , he gloated.
"Shut up dog breath and get that dong of yours over here I've got the hunger for cock tonight, even if it is yours" was her spunky reply.
He was only too willing to obey. He stepped forward his thick cock jutting out obscenely at Sarah's clear expectant eyes. Once he was within reach she wasted no time in getting his rod in her hand, first one the both encircling his cock and masturbating him fiercely so his foreskin rolled back and his glowing, blood engorged penis came fully into view and it was all Sarah could do not to jam it into her mouth there and then but she did so enjoy putting on a show for her late night regulars. So as she slowed her pumping of his cock she also extended her tongue and began to lick at his penis like it was a lollipop still too cold to take all the way in her mouth. But there was nothing cold about Manny's cock it was warm, sweaty, meaty, hairy, musky and after a few pre-emptory licks she could not resist laying her lips together on it's pee hole in a kiss that delighted both parties and the turned on watchers, most of whom had there hands fondling in their trousers and silently praying their numbers came up for Sarah's other two holes.
She couldn't hold on any longer and as her left hand fell to her own crotch and began to tug gently at her own sex she opened her mouth to it's widest and engulfed his cock inside her and as she did so she turned her wide eyes upwards and met Manny's mocking look with a wanton challenge as her tongue played along the ridges of his veins, tracing each one individually. Manny was in ecstasy already, he had been overjoyed that the cocky little bitch would have to suck him off when his number was called but now with his member buried in her mouth (and throat now, aaaargh, yes) his body took over his feelings and it was only interested in getting more of the intense pleasure being visited upon his most erogenous area.
She worked his cock beautifully in her mouth, weeks and months of practise behind her and made no complaint when he reach a large hand down behind her neck and began guiding her head faster and faster onto his straining prick. A second hand descended and she instinctively knew that she should drop her own hands submissively to her sides as he increased his pace of fucking her mouth. Traces of her saliva sprayed out of her mouth married to the length of his throbbing cock as he relentlessly powered his way back and forth into her inviting mouth. And at once they both knew that he was ready to cum, ready to explode and fill her mouth with his sperm.
