It was Wednesday night. The office was closed at least until Monday -- there was a plumbing problem. Your job didn't allow you to work from home, so you had a four-day weekend ahead.
Since it was so sudden, you didn't have anything planned, and the last several days at work had been really rough. Everyone had been pushing hard to meet tight deadlines, and you had struggled to get the data and paperwork that you needed to meet your deadlines from people burning themselves out trying to meet their own deadlines.
So, the sudden time off was a blessing, although you knew that once the office opened again, it would be even more work and longer hours catching up on deadlines that had slipped. The office was going to be a madhouse. You resolved to make the most of this surprise long weekend.
You'd come home, soaked in a hot bath until it got cold, and then settled down in front of the TV with a glass of wine. After a couple of episodes of your favorite unscripted TV show -- Real Broken Men on Halifax Pier -- you noticed that you had started squeezing your boob and pinching your nipples. Clearly reality TV was not what you needed to de-stress. You pulled out your phone and started streaming porn on the TV. There's nothing like 4K streaming porn on a 65-inch TV to make a girl appreciate technology.
But it didn't seem to be enough, even after you'd added your blue g-spot vibe into the mix. Frustrated, you looked in your toybox and say the new clit sucking toy you'd bought recently. You'd used it a couple of times and it was fantastic. But it didn't look like it would give you what you wanted. You were really craving a nice thick, hard, and throbbing cock pounding you until you couldn't take it anymore. You looked at the clock, it was about 11:30 at night -- which was a prime time to go to a bar and find someone to scratch that itch.
The men at bars at this hour would be slightly desperate, but not sloppy drunk on either alcohol, or their own inflated egos. There was a hole in the wall bar called The Dew Drop Inn a few blocks away. You hadn't gone to it yet because you were either too beat from work or out with friends at nicer places where you could dance and grind and get handsome men to buy you drinks with no strings attached. But going to any of those places at this time of night was too much hassle and would be way too full of knuckleheads, peacocks and sleazy men looking to slip something into your drink.
You put on some nice sexy but not overly dressy clothes and shoes you could walk in and headed out to the Dew Drop Inn to find some action. The bar was in the lower portion of a narrow two-story unit at the end of a row of abandoned small business stores. You felt a little worried walking past the boarded over doors and paper covered windows, but figured if you didn't find a cock worthy of scratching your itch, you could grab a ride-share home.
From the outside, the Dew Drop Inn didn't look like much. The only window was covered with the name and logo of the bar, except for the top corner where the neon "Open" sign was blazing. Inside was cleaner and more hip than you expected. The bar ran most of the length of the wall adjacent to the rest of the retail block, and the outer wall had a selection of paintings for sale done by an independent artist you hadn't heard of. The pieces looked well-made but were not your style at all. Below the art, there was a long wooden ledge to set drinks on and a couple of bar stools.
The lighting overall was dim, but not dark. There were lights on the liquor shelves and can lights on the ceiling. All the bulbs were designed to emit a yellowish light, rather than a harsher white. There must have been some kind of lighting under the bar because the bartenders were better lit than the walls. Looking around, you only saw a few people; one guy struggling to hold himself upright with a full martini in front of him; a couple with their faces about two inches apart clearly having an intimate conversation; three barely 21-year-old girls at the end of the bar with two frat bros standing behind them. The frat bros were talking sports kind of loudly with a bit of a slur, clearly a few beers in. They weren't paying any real attention to the girls they'd come with.
The bartenders were a contrasting set. They both looked to be in their early thirties. One was tall, skinny, and was rocking a look somewhere between Mick Jagger and Robert Smith. He was pretty good looking and had a focus and intensity that boded well for his skills in bed. The other bartender was Asian, or at least of Asian descent, and looked like a hockey fast forward. He was built but not bulky, and clearly spent some solid time working on his glutes; that was a nice tight ass that looked ready for some powerful back and forth.
Both bartenders were focused on the 21-year-old girls, plying them with talk about obscure garage rock bands and photography and modelling. Clearly the bartenders were good solid fuckboys. How to choose, how to choose...
But first, you had to get a drink, and their attention. You sat at a stool near the front of the bar, closer to the main entrance. You made a small "tee-hee" noise. The Asian bartender looked over at you. you smiled, licked your lips, and jiggled your tits a bit. Seeing that, he grinned and sauntered over. He placed one hand on the bar in front of you and leaned in a bit. You smelled a hint of cologne that was spicy with just a hint of jasmine.
"I'm Brandon. I haven't seen you in here before." He paused, put on a little grin, and said "What's your pleasure...?" "I'd like a vodka soda with lime." "You want that in a martini glass, or something a bit ... taller?". "Oh, I like a martini glass, it's so much easier to run my tongue around and get every last little bit." "I'll send Jay over, he's good with wide glasses where I'm good with tall ones."
The other bartender, who must be Jay, came over. He pulled out a martini glass and a shaker and asked what kind of Vodka you wanted.
You explained that you generally liked plain vodka, it was much more refreshing. Jay offered a taste of an obscure herbal flavored vodka. While it was interesting, it really wasn't what you wanted -- you really wanted a normal vodka; Jay nodded and shook the vodka on ice for a half a second. After pouring it into a martini glass, he cut a lime wedge from half a lime, and squeezed the juice into the glass and filled it with soda water. Then he took a slice of peel from another lime and twisted it over the glass to get a bit of the lime oil in there as well.
It was a pretty darn good vodka soda! The vodka was cold, the soda water fresh and bubbly and the lime flavor was forward but not overpowering.
You chatted with Jay briefly, mostly listening to him ramble about this cool obscure band that he had seen in an unground club, and he had their first record on vinyl. After a little bit of this, you turned to look at Brandon again, and gave him a wink. Brandon came back over and sent Jay back to entertain the young ladies.
"I heard you talking about photography... is that something you do as a hobby?" "No, I'm a professional photographer along with being a part owner of this bar.". "I bet a handsome guy like you doesn't have any trouble finding ... models... to let you shoot them with your flash bulb." "I'm very picky, actually, I only like models that will look good through my long lens." "Long lens? I thought those were for taking pictures of things far away?" "They're also good for tight shots and closeups with lots of field of depth."
