A Boy in a Bar

A young man sits at a table in a bar; it is the night of his eighteenth birthday and he is alone, friendless in this place. He has ventured out to celebrate his new maturity and has chosen an elite bar, one he feels befits his new status. He sips his single malt slowly; no more furtive beers for him. But still he is alone, and his eyes wander, taking in the businessmen and the well-dressed women all around him. He envies their sociability as they talk and drink together.

At the bar he spies a woman who stands out from all the others. Twenty years his senior, but her beauty stuns him. She half sits on a stool as she sips her drink. Her black sheath dress barely contains her full bosom and outlines her every curve, hinting at the nakedness that lies beneath. Her arms are bare, but her legs are clothed in black garter less stockings which display the strain of her calves as they are kept tense by her spike heels. Her long raven hair falls casually over her shoulders, concealing the thin straps of her dress and framing her face, emphasizing the white of her skin and the red of her full, sensuous lips. Her smile is both inviting and arousing, and her eyes, so dark they are almost black, seem enlarged with desire. He closes his eyes for a moment and dreams of her.

But his dreams face the reality of the businessmen crowding around her, jostling each other as each strives to be close to her, to buy her a drink and gain her company. The richness of their suits shames his plain slacks and sport shirt, and, hopeless, he turns again to his scotch. She smiles enticingly at these men, but laughs to herself at their fumblings and scorns their feeble attempts at seduction. They offer her drinks and tell her of their cars, their penthouses, and their positions at the top of their companies, thinking these puerile boasts of self-importance will win her favors. She knows their displays reflect also the self-centeredness of their desires; for them she would only be a prize to add to their egos, and they would expect their mere existence to be enough pleasure for her.

As she chats with them, leading them on to nowhere, her eyes wander from one to the other until she glimpses the plain young man, alone at his table. He senses that he is being watched, and he looks up from the despair of his drink. His eyes meet hers and he is transfixed by the intensity of her gaze. He blushes self-consciously, and she smiles to herself at his innocence as she leaves the barstool and glides towards his table.

His pupils dilate as she approaches, and he falls slack-jawed as she leans forward to introduce herself. His eyes are filled with her cleavage, her breasts pressed tight together, swinging slightly towards him, their erect nipples straining at the soft black cloth that restrains them. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and his slacks grow tighter as she intones, "Hi. I'm Amber. May I join you?," in a voice so hot and sultry that it nearly melts him. He is speechless, and as she sits, she presses him, "And who are you?," so sensually, her tongue rolling around each syllable, that he feels a drop of fluid emerge against the snugness of his pants and stutters incomprehensibly as he tries to answer.

The businessmen find themselves unable to make sense of her actions. Why, they ask themselves, would she want a young geek like him when she could have her pick of any of them, so much more suave and sophisticated and wealthy and... But the other women know, and envy her boldness in taking such an inexperienced virginal boy for herself and envy also the response they know will come to her from him.

The young man regains a bit of his composure, managing an "I'm pleased to meet you, Amber. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Of course," she purrs back, threatening his composure again, "I'll have the same as you."

They chat as they sip their drinks, with her leading the conversation as his composure continues to ebb and flow. She slipped her foot out of her shoe and has been stroking his ankle with her toes. And whenever he seems to recover from the touch, she massages his leg at a higher point. His confused mind focuses for a moment, and he thinks to himself that she's only doing this because she pities him, but that he doesn't care anyway; it feels so, so good.

She sees this in his face and leans towards him (and oh! how he longs for her breasts), whispering "You know, I came over to you because you look like a nice guy to spend some time with. I hope you don't mind."

"How could I," he replied as she leaned back and brought her bare foot between his thighs and slid it slowly back and forth, reveling in the ecstasy in his eyes.

Behind them the piano player has just taken his place and loosened his fingers. She glances at the little sanded dance floor next to the piano, and then again at her boy, smiling and waiting. The music starts in earnest, a steamy jazz piece in two-quarter time, and she gazes hungrily into his eyes. She brings her foot down slowly from his thighs, letting her toes press hard into him, and leans forward. He knows her breasts are nearly exposed to him, but his eyes are riveted to her intense gaze, and he is unable to look down. "Dance with me?" she says in a tone between a request and a demand and so filled with desire that he fears his knees will fail him as she takes his hand and leads him to the floor.

He is tall, taller than she even in her stilettos, and lanky, perhaps even gangly in his own still-teenage way, and it pleases her. She wraps her arms around his neck and begins to sway and shuffle in time to the music, leading him in a sensuous two-step. Unsure of himself, his hands settle demurely on her, one on her shoulder blade and the other lightly touching the small of her back. As they move slowly around the small dance area, she slides her arms from his neck down across his arms, forcing his hands downward on her back until each hand cradles a cheek. With her arms back around his neck, now, she gyrates her hips, grinding them rhythmically against him and then squeezes her arms tight around his neck as she feels his excitement stiffen and press hard into her. He feels her breasts press tight against his chest, her stiffened nipples rubbing against him, and he pulls her closer to him. She sighs at this and brings her lips to the side of his neck, nuzzling him with her lips as her tongue lightly strokes his skin. "Oh, Amber," he moans softly, and she smiles at the sound and at the trembling of his body that accompanies it.

The other patrons are transfixed by the dance, their eyes dilating with pleasure at the palpable sexuality emanating from the dancers. Both men and women find themselves caught between jealousy of their match in the couple and arousal at the couple together. Nor does the piano player miss the eroticism on the dance floor, and he now begins to play to their lust. His subtle changes in tempo alternately slow them to long, lingering undulations of body against body and speed them to rapid, circular thrusts of abdomen to abdomen. She and he sense the effect of the music on them, and yield themselves to it, allowing the piano man to orchestrate their lust. And so he does.

Glissando and arpeggio, lente and andante, and to each they danced. Legs sliding between legs, arousing the sensitive insides of thighs. Hands flowing over backs, now lightly like the touch of a spider, now firmly teasing the deepest nerves. Chest rubbing against chest, her breasts kneaded and massaged, and nipples tingling and erect on both dancers. Hips to hips, gyrating and undulating, forcing fluids to flow in both dancers loins. And then a slow Latin beat, not quite a Tango but even hotter, a rhythm more for bodies than for feet.

She turned in his arms with this new music, her back against his front, his hands gently on her hips. Her eyes were closed now, and her lips, scarlet and quivering were parted with desire. A wave, in time to the music, started undulating through her body, rising from her calves through her thighs, hips, waist, torso and shoulder to her head, rising up and down and starting again and again with each bar of music. His eyes were closed too as he nuzzled her raven hair, deeply inhaling her body's perfume, and swayed his body sinuously from side to side with the beat. She took his hands now, and lifted them to her breasts, holding them just close enough for her nipples to graze his palms as each undulation heaved her breasts up and down. The player pedaled forte, and she sharply drew his hands tight against her and guided them in a circular massage of her breasts as the onlookers gasped in excited amazement. A glissando, now, and she drew his hands down to her thighs, drawing them slowly up, taking the black sheath up with them. His hands slipped under the front of her dress, leaving her thighs bare as she brought his concealed hands to her warm and damp pubis. Her shudder and her moan at his touch reverberated through the barroom and found its echo in the gasps and cries of the other patrons. She turned again to face him, then, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

The pianist's coda brought her face to his and she pressed her lips hard to his in a long, deep, lingering kiss, her tongue playing with his as if it were an instrument. As the music concluded, she slowly descended, spreading her knees as she moved to a squat, his hands now on the back of her thighs and catching her dress as she sank, letting her bare cheeks slide free of their covering. Her forearms pressed against him as she lowered herself and they traced her movements across his torso, following the lines of her caresses. Her lips continued their travel downward, lightly kissing him through his lust-soaked shirt until they reached the bulge straining against his slacks. As the final chord sounded and faded, her lips parted around the bulge and then pressed hard around it, drawing a long, deep, rumbling moan of pleasure from her partner.

She rose, then, and whispered to him in the absolute silence of the awed barroom, "I think we'd better go some place more private, now. Don't you?"

"Yes, Amber, yes," he stuttered through his gasps, and thought of paying the bar bill to avoid having attention drawn to them as they left. He stumbled towards the bar, fumbling for his wallet.

The barman looked at the red tracing of her lips around his still-bulged pants and smiled, "The drinks are on the house for you. Happy Birthday!" And all eyes followed in stunned reverence as Amber took his hand and led him out into the night.

Once outside, she hailed a cab and hurried him into it. Her apartment wasn't far, but even five minutes was too long to be idle. As they rode, she hiked up her dress and straddled him, rubbing herself on him through her sopping wet thong and thrusting her tongue in and out of his moaning mouth. When they arrived she quickly drew a twenty from her purse and dropped in next to the driver.

Into her building they ran, still at it on the elevator, the bulge in his pants now not only traced in the red of her lipstick, but darkened with the fluids from her pussy. At her floor she nearly dragged him to her rooms, closing the door behind her and pushing him towards the bedroom. In the bedroom she stopped and stood, looking up and down, devouring his whole body with her eyes, and shoved him down to sit on the edge of the bed.

A couple of steps back, now, and he can see the whole of her body, and the sight gets him hotter and hotter. "Amber," he sighs, and she puts her fingers to her lips to tell him to shush. She takes a deep breath and then slowly lowers the straps of her dress over her shoulders and rolls them down her arms. The neckline falls with the straps, and she gives a little tug to force it over her distended nipples, swollen with desire. He gasps as he sees them naked for the first time, and reels with lust as she slowly massages them with the palms of her hands. Her hands slide down her side and push the dress over her hips, leaving it free to fall to the floor. Her thong is so wet it's become transparent, and his mouth gapes to see her shaved skin through the silk. She kicks off her heels, one at a time, playfully towards him, and then bends forward, her breasts swinging with her, very slowly rolling each stocking in turn down from her thigh over her knee, to the calf, and finally over the ankle and off the foot before throwing it in his lap. She steps up to him, there at the edge of the bed, and places his hands on the strings at her hips , guiding him down to remove her last covering and give him the entirety of her body.

She brings his hands to the sides of her breasts, squeezing them together, and then takes his head in her hands, bringing his lips to one erect nipple then the other. He sucks hungrily each time, and she moans with pleasure as his tongue plays with each as he draws them in and out of his mouth. Pushing his head from her, now, she takes his hands again and begins to massage herself with them. She senses he no longer needs her to lead, and she starts unbuttoning his shirt as his fingers roll and twist and pull at her taut nipples, so swollen with excitement that each twist and pull evokes a little cry of pain and pleasure. He stops as she removes his shirt, pushing it down over his back, and then guides his fingers to her pussy, standing in front of him with closed eyes and soft moans as he plays with her.

Suddenly she snaps out of her reverie and shoves his shoulders down to the bed, leaving him on his back with his legs hanging over the side of the bed. She leans forward towards him, deliberately letting her breasts hang free in front of him, swinging in time to her heavy, panting breaths, and undoes his belt and pants. Supporting her self with her hands on his abdomen. She slowly kneels down, sitting on her heels, between his legs, and slides his chinos over his hips and legs and off him. His boxers quickly follow his slacks to the floor.

His cock stands upright, straining with the pumping of more and more blood into it, and she places her hands on either side of it, the fingers on his pubis and thumbs pressing hard at its base on the underside. She leans forward and lifts herself so her lips can descend straight down on his throbbing glans. And they do, first parting slightly to kiss his little hole and lap up the drop of fluid there, then wider, allowing her tongue to emerge and circle his head, tasting his sweet saltiness, and, finally, opening fully to slide sensuously over his glans as she draws it into her mouth. He moans a crescendo himself as her tongue presses and twists against his cockhead, and he slides his hands into her hair on the back of her head.

As she slides her lips down his shaft, his hands follow the descent until she reaches his root and strokes up and strokes him again with her tongue. He utters her name again and again while pushing her head down ever tighter against his pubis, driving his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth. Her tongue forces its way between cock and lower lip now and slowly glides down his scrotum, licking and flicking as it glides over the folds of skin and then withdraws back to her mouth. His trembling sighs loosen his hold on her head and she slides her lips back up over the shaft, at the same time sliding her hands and arms up over his abdomen and chest, until she once again has only is glans in her grasp.

A final warm kiss sucks more blood to his swollen organ and then her lips slide up his torso from pubis to abdomen to chest as her own body rides over his hot, quivering penis. As her lips meet his and both their mouths open widely, straining to feel and taste all of each other, she lifts her legs over him to kneel up on the edge of the bed.

Straddling him now, she rubs her pussy over his abdomen, forcing his cock to slide up and down between her cheeks, and she smiles as she feels his fluids flood the valley of her ass and he again softly moans her name, drawing it out so it takes almost half a minute to finish sounding. Upright on him, she takes hold of his cock and slides it forward, pausing for a moment to press it firmly against her anus before bringing it to her labia. With her other hand she spreads her lips to envelope him and begins to slide his cock up and down her slit, stroking herself with it from vestibule to clitoris and back again. On some strokes she pauses at her pearl and rubs her clitoris with him; on others she stops at the vestibule and slides only the very tip into her hole and rims herself with him.

They both moan, sigh, cry out, and gasp for breath, and she finds the rhythm to leave go of his shaft and ride him, keeping him sliding up and down her slit. He takes her by the hips to push her down on him, but she grasps his hands and forces them back over his head to keep him stroking her wet pink lips. He finds the pleasure tantalizing and nearly painful, and it drives him into a frenzy. She's pinned his hands, but he rolls his hips and legs, tossing her onto her back with him still between her legs. Her hands are pinned to the bed now, and she brings her knees up to raise her hips as he lifts his hips. His cock is poised at her hole as his arching reaches its apex, and they moan in unison as he pushes down, driving his cock deep inside her.

He moves rhythmically in her, her legs spreading ever wider, yielding to him as if he should sink completely inside her. He slides up and down over her, keeping their bodies in constant contact while his organ, straining and stiff, slides inside her. As each stroke begins, his glans presses hard against her g-spot and then pushes down her sheath, stretching her walls until the whole of his cock, right to the root, is enveloped by her. And as he strokes, her muscles contract and relax along his length, stroking him from root to head before allowing him to withdraw to start anew. And with each of her strokes he whispers "Amber" again and again in her ear.

They continue in their slow rhythm until Amber suddenly tenses and begins to tremble. He takes the signal and lifts up a bit to begin a faster tempo. In and out, in and out, faster and faster, deeper and deeper until she arches tightly, her mouth opening wide for breath. She digs her heel into the small of his back to pull him deep inside her, to feel herself coming in tight contractions around his penis and to let him feel her coming. She sees him smiling at the orgasm written on her face, and then he presses his open mouth to hers to kiss and taste her orgasm.

She subsides, falling back to the bed, and can feel his slow, rhythmic stokes again. She wraps her legs and arms around him, pulling him close to the whole of her. His head lies next to hers, cheek-to-cheek, and she begins to whisper in his ear, "fuck me, fuck me slow, cum in me, let my pussy feel you cum, fill me with your cum," and his body begins shuddering as he gasps besides her ear, her name barely audible on his breath. Her heels press again, into his ass to pull her to him, and her hands uncontrollably flow up and down his back as she feels his cockhead, pressed so tight inside her, expand and erupt, driving hot spurts of semen against the back of her vagina. She cries out in delight at the feel of his coming, and he raises his head to look at her as he erupts again and again. And she sees the incredible pleasure, the delighted confusion of a young man in his first true orgasm, displayed on his face.

They kiss again as he collapses into her arms and is held secure by her legs around him, the last few drops of semen gently spurting from his spent cock, and her pussy still quivering in the aftershocks of her climax.