When I got home that night, I felt strangely horny. I was disgusted by the whole thing, the dirty bathroom, the blow job, the ass licking. Yet, my pussy was dripping wet. I felt ashamed at myself for being turned on by such an awful act, yet I couldn't deny it. I masturbated that night and for the first time, thought about Sam fucking me, not my lover, who had always dominated my fantasies.
The next couple of days I avoided the bar. I told myself everything was fine and I should forget about it. After all, I had made rent and had another month to worry about that. Then Bruce came in to get change. As I handed a couple role of quarters, he asked me where I'd been and told me things were boring and quiet without me there. I told him I'd stop by after work. My worst fear, that he knew, and everyone knew, was probably silly.
I stopped in the bar and sat down at my usual spot. Sam was across the bar from me, as usual. He simply smiled at me and I smiled back. I thought, all is normal and it seemed so for several nights. One Friday, about two weeks later, when the bar was busier than usual, a stranger came up to me, introducing himself as Sam's friend. He was kind of cute, nice build, and smile with dimples. He looked to be only in his early thirties. He asked if he could buy me a drink. We talked while we had our drinks. Just as I was starting to feel like he liked me, he told me his real desire.
"Um, so Sam says there is a way we might be mutually benefited, if you know what I mean?" He asked, looking directly at my tits and not at my face.
Embarrassed, I said I wasn't sure what he could mean.
