This story was originally published elsewhere.
Trixie watched as the sun dipped behind the horizon. The pink glow in the sky promised of a better day tomorrow. Well, it could hardly be much worse, she thought. Five years ago she had been on this very bus, even the same driver if she remembered. Escaping this god forsaken backwater to find a life for herself. There had to be more than the repetitive days of small town living. She couldn't say she hadn't discovered more. Her horizons were certainly broader, but very little of it was an experience she every want to repeat. Although some moments had been interesting.
Broke and with little avenue out, she had to go cap in hand back to her Mom. Returning home had always been an option, but not one she ever particularly wanted to resort to. Consoling herself that it wouldn't be forever, maybe a few weeks, tops. She was more worldly wise now. The big city lights had certainly knocked the innocent little girl out of her. Next time, she would be prepared. Happy with her internal negotiations, she accepted the boredom of the next few weeks as a stopgap, after nothing ever happened here. She could probably guess what every single resident had done today, and tomorrow, and probably for the rest of the time, she was there. The monotony of it sent a shiver down her spine.
It was only just 9pm when the bus pulled at the terminal. With her rucksack in hand, Trixie stepped off the bus with a resigned sigh. Ignoring the bus doors closing behind her, she looked around the small square in front of her. Damn! She was sure those same flowers were there when she left--does nothing happen in this place? Across the road lay the roads to home. It wasn't a long walk, but already Trixie could feel an ominous weight in her feet at the thought of having to walk those few yards.
A light flickered to break her attention, Harry's Bar. Yep, that ole neon light had never been fixed. In all her years living in this town, she had never figured out who Harry was, or how that place stayed open. No-one ever seemed to spend a large amount of time, or probably money, in that place. In fact, the greatest attraction had been it had the only pool table in the town. It had also employed two of her ex-boyfriends, Craig and Jamie, at different times, of course. So, she had spent a quite a bit of time in there, and quite a few hours on the pool table she remembered, grinning to herself, but she had never spent one dime. What's the point of having a boyfriend behind the bar if you have to pay for your drinks?
Harry's Bar seemed suddenly inviting, if only because it wasn't going home and that absolute acceptance of failure, not to mention her Mom fussing over her as if she'd been in a car wreck.
The door creaked open in the same way it always did, and the smell of pine and beer flooded over her as she walked through. Truly NOTHING changes. Good to see the pool table still there.
I wonder if anyone else ever used it in that way.
Empty as every, not even anyone behind the bar. Maybe this had been a bad idea after all. Walking over to the pool table, Trixie caressed the velvet, her finger tips dancing across, her mind drifted back to those nights. Closing her eyes, she fancied she might feel a damp patch on the material. Maybe from her last night here--it got rather intense. Letting her hands wander to edge of the table, wondering for a moment if her panties might still be in that pocket, she let two fingers slide in. Nothing. Obviously, they clean this place more often than she gave them credit for.
'No, we cleaned that out ages ago. Although I kept them for a while.' Craig emerged from the shadows grinning at her. 'Trixie Malloy, as I live and breathe, I thought you'd left all us stay at homes behind in your dust when you went in search of fame and fortune.'
'Craig, why on earth are you still working here?'
His smile lit up the shadows as it did all those years ago. 'Oh, I don't just work here anymore, I own it now.' His muscular chest seemed to expand a couple of inches, stretching his shirt with pride.
'Why?' her shock was clear in her voice.
'Why not? It pays the bills, I got it for a steal. And let's face it, Trixie, there is not a whole load of jobs round these parts from someone with my qualifications.' He adjusted his waistband, Trixie wasn't sure if he did that your of habit or to emphasise the bulge in his pants when he mentioned qualifications.
Oh, that bulge. Her eyes gravitated towards it. He was most definitely hard under those finely tailored trousers.
Still got it!
She congratulated herself, proud of the effect she could still have on him so quickly after all this time. The memories of the hard cock and how good it felt. She felt her body respond, a single drip of warm excitement dripped down her thigh as she held a gentle moan back.
'Well, the truth is we both own it.' The unmistakeably resonant voice of Jamie made her hot spots leap to life.
Jesus, this is all she needed. Both ex's in the bar at once, this might get a little messy, neither were known for their calm temperament, and if Craig was aroused as his bulge suggested he wouldn't want any company, and to be frank nor did Trixie, it had been a while since she felt any intense pleasure and the sight of Craigs cock, bulging inside his pants was too tempting to resist, she could already taste him on her lips.
