About five years ago a new landlord called Dave Mullins took over the King's Arms in Newtown, instantly rejuvenating the rundown pub with Sky Sports, Saturday night discos and karaoke, a pool table and getting a Sunday League football team up and running. Almost everything a bunch of fun-loving lads in their late twenties could wish for in a local pub, the icing on the cake came when the landlord's daughter Kim started working behind the bar. An eighteen-year old blonde sex kitten with amazing gravity-defying boobs and a pouty smile, immediately everyone was smitten with lust.
Yet surely it would be too much to expect for her to look at a bunch of guys who, whilst not quite old enough to be her father, were overweight, crass and sex-obsessed, wasn't it? Well no, in actual fact. Kim, it seemed, thrived on the danger, flirting like it was going out of fashion. It was John 'Jacko' Jackson, -- admittedly the best-looking and slimmest amongst us -- that made the first move, and by all accounts the lad was not to be left disappointed. Later that week, taking a few of us aside in a private conference, he reported in lascivious detail of how young Kim had cut short their date, desperate to get back to his place, and how he found her blowing his cock barely before they were even inside the front door.
Well, rugged and attractive to woman he might be, but Jacko was no brain surgeon and pretty soon Kim grew tired and moved on. It was another of the football team, Spud Murphy, who attracted the young barmaid's undoubted charms with similar success. Kim, by all accounts, proved to be quite the adventurous little thing we fantasised about. Yet, soon enough the flighty beauty started looking elsewhere and yours truly happened to become the lucky latest recipient of her attention. And she did not fail to live up to the billing. We spent the next three months fucking one another's brains out before she moved on to our goalkeeper Jimmy 'Mack' McCartney.
Over the next year and, until she went off to university, Kim went into overdrive, screwing her way through the entire football team plus three substitutes, and back again. I ensured to get my fair share and like to think that she developed a bit of a soft spot for me. Well she had one between the legs that was the cutest pink pussy in Newtown.
As I say, that was a good few years ago, following which Kim disappeared up north to university and things returned to normal. Over the next few seasons the guys from the team either got married, got fat, lost interest or moved away, until sadly we had to finish playing altogether in September owing to lack of interest. But we still used the pub on a regular basis and the four of us had gathered that night for the traditional New Year's Eve party. All single, we were up for a little fun and a lot of flirting. It was at that moment as we took seats in the corner that landlord Dave joined us. "Kim's turning up later," he disclosed.
The smug and lustful looks than ran around the quartet were priceless. "Bringing her new boyfriend along," he added as an afterthought. "She's changed..."
As if on cue, the front door sprung open. In sashayed the still gorgeous Kim, replete in a sexy and slinky two-piece silver party outfit, causing a collective jaw-dropping. Now twenty-three, if anything, she put on a little weight around the hips and tits, the latter pressed up like a couple of plum puddings. Her blonde hair was straight and shoulder length.
In tow was the latest lucky object of her desire, a clean cut and good-looking young guy with gelled brown hair. He looked a little younger than Kim by a year or two and had clearly had a result pulling the sexy little nymph. Immediately spotting our crowd in the corner, she came bounding over. "Den!" she enthused as I stood to give her a hug, my hands stroking her back almost instinctively.
She eased away, issuing similar greetings to Jacko, Spud and Mack, as her boyfriend stood idly in the background, looking a little overwhelmed. Finally remembering him, Kim swiped his hand and brought him over. "Ian, these are some old friends of mine, Den, Jacko, Spud and Mack. Now come and meet daddy."
We all raised a hand in greeting and grinned at one another, the evening having taking a decided turn for the better. Kim flounced off, the hem of the skirt riding up to the top of her thighs to expose a hint of plump rump.
A second round of drinks on order, Kim found her way back, blushing as we unsubtly checked out her curves and took every opportunity to get tactile. For her part she skilfully brushed aside the overt attention, ensuring to refer to her companion pointedly as "my boyfriend" so as to leave no doubt. However, that didn't stop Jacko placing a hand on her round bum, stroking the silky soft material and administering a playful squeeze. Kim issued a stern look but made no verbal complaint.
Spud's round, he added a vodka and lemonade for Kim and asked what Ian wanted. An initial rebuff, the youngster was eventually persuaded to accept a bottle of Bud. That meant the pair were obliged to join us at our table. Pulling up a seat, Kim was anxious to find out what we were all up to since she last saw us. As the DJ got into swing, reminiscences of a collective colourful past rang out. Nibbling on the neck of his bottle, poor Ian was somewhat excluded. Whether it occurred that each of us had had his girlfriend in just about every conceivable position wasn't clear, but he certainly shuffled a little uncomfortably in his seat as we regaled Kim with tall tales and improbable instances. He was in for a long night.
As if to pacify, when a record came on she liked, Kim dragged him up onto the floor. A collective sigh of appreciation ran around the horny quartet as we watched the pair dance. Somewhat self-conscious, Ian shuffled stiffly. In their absence, our reminiscences took a filthy turn. Jacko recalled the time he bent Kim over the bonnet of his van in the pub car park and took her roughly from behind. Mack remembered taking her fishing and an hour-long blowjob as he held his rod tightly and she did too! Spud eulogised upon a heated fuck in the showers after football. I completed the trip down memory lane by disclosing the time she gave me a handjob under my jacket in the cinema. A bunch of selfless liars and braggards at the best of times, somehow all carried an air of authenticity. Mack summed up the feeling around the table by proclaiming: "God, I want the little slut right now."
The song came to an end and young Ian headed off to the toilet as Kim returned to our circle. A big smile on her face, clearly she had strong feelings for her handsome and fit young boyfriend. In stark contrast, we were a bunch of unfit and balding thirty-somethings that were God's Gift only in our own heads. Kim jumped when, upon sitting down, she found Mack's hand was already there. He ensured to get a good grope of lovely arse before she wiggled free. "Oi, you can cut that out," the beauty protested, amid a chorus of chuckles. "No, really," she entreated, eyelashes fluttering. "Not in front of Ian...please."
The inference that we could do whatsoever we liked, provided it wasn't in front of Ian, seemed to occur to Kim a little too late and she blushed profusely. "Okay then, just a little kiss for old time's sake," Mack suggested as the rest of us provided verbal encouragement, causing Kim's doe eyes to widen. "Aww, go on, just a little peck on the cheek," Mack added with an innocent look on his chubby chops.
Glancing back towards the toilet door, Kim gestured at him to turn his head in profile. Mack obliged, eyes glinting, eyebrows rising. As Kim leaned in to kiss the stubbly jowl, quickly Mack turned his head, their lips meeting and crushing together. A sweaty hand moved behind her head and he held her in place until she shook clear with a breathless: "Nooooooo."
Her face contorted like she'd been fed a vial of toxin. Mack, on the other hand, beamed like the cat that had got the cream. All looking up, we saw Ian standing behind. He didn't look to be much enjoying himself. Only nine o'clock, the poor lad was surely in for a torrid time unless he lightened up a little. As if to win favour, he enquired if anyone wanted a drink. We all accepted and his heart seemed to plunge as Kim chimed: "Make mine a double, honey."
"Atta girl," we chorused, knowing full well what a lethal combination alcohol and the naughty little minx made.
