Beth raised the glass of wine to her lips, her nose sensitive to the gentle fragrance that stood in stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere of the pub.
It had not been her ideal choice of venue, and she'd told him so as they arranged the meeting, but he had been insistent and she - not wanting to upset her first date in seven months - had relented.
She'd regretted that decision almost the moment she'd entered.
The pub was dimly lit, the noise confining and the air thick with the scent of beer and sweat. Those patrons - old before their time and too young to know - sat in huddled groups in the half-light; their conversation hushed and slowed.
It was a place where people came to drink. Not to date.
The only person of any appeal had been the barman. He was older than she, perhaps, but had an air of confidence that she'd noticed as she entered.
He noticed her too, and she'd felt his eyes upon her as she passed by the bar. Perhaps the dress she'd chosen was a little on the short side, she considered, but it was tasteful. And besides, she'd wanted to feel good for the evening.
As arranged, her date was waiting for her in the booth he'd reserved near the back - in low light Beth noted - and she was aware of him eyeing her hungrily as she snaked her way between the tables.
They'd smiled politely, she'd extended her hand in greeting, then turned her cheek in practised good time to ensure his kiss landed where she was comfortable with it. She wasn't about to give him expectations this early on.
An hour had passed since that first meeting and the date had not gone well. After ordering the wine and two glasses Daniel, perhaps from nervousness, managed to consume almost a third of the bottle before announcing the taste didn't suit him and changing to pints of beer.
And as the barman had brought the drinks over, Beth had again caught him noticing her from the corner of his eye.
The glances might have simply been the shared understanding of her situation, but beneath the kindness in his eyes, there was a definite something else. Something carnal that made Beth feel slightly cheap. And, if she was honest, slightly wet.
Beth lowered her glass again and savoured the taste; the only thing nearing sophistication in the pub.
The excess of alcohol had done nothing to improve Daniel's conversation as he faltered and floundered his way through trying to impress her. Over the next two hours, he chattered his way through tales of sporting prowess - some invented, all embellished - and through his opinions of current politics.
It was clear Daniel was nervous, she got that, but he was doing everything guaranteed to ruin his chances and Beth, unable to find a pause in which to steer him back on topic, went through disappointment to deflation and, finally, to disinterest.
By the time the pub was ready to close, and Daniel had announced he'd enjoyed himself but needed to head home, the date had been a complete disaster.
Beth watched as the final call for closing came and Daniel got unsteadily to his feet. She was about to rise as well when the barman, having removed the other patrons, made his way over to their table.
"Sorry mate, I have to close up," he said to Daniel. Then he turned to Beth "you can stay to finish that glass of wine, though. I'll call you a taxi."
Daniel gave a nod of acquiescence as he allowed himself to be walked out by the barman who locked the door behind him. Now the pub was empty, save for Beth and this man.
She watched him for a moment as he collected empty glasses from the other tables and returned them to the bar, then began to mop the tabletops.
Perhaps it was the wine she'd drunk, but Beth was sure he was only half focussed on his work, and more than once he gave her a sideways glance.
Was he simply being kind? Or was there something more? She felt suddenly very aware that she was alone with him in a locked pub, and she drained the rest of her glass even as she heard the carnal whisper deep within her.
"Feel better?" he asked, approaching the table as she made to stand and collect her handbag.
"Thank yous," she replied. "Ah...I mean, thank you," she corrected herself with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I'm a bit tipsy."
The barman gave a wolfish smile. "You're also very attractive," he said outright.
Beth looked back at him, a mixture of surprise and desire fighting in her body. "Thank you," she replied. She knew what was happening, but found a part of herself willing it to happen. Wanting it to happen.
She stepped out from the table and collected her bag, but the barman blocked her path.
"Taxi," she said, her voice suddenly weak.
He regarded her cooly for a moment, then nodded. "Of course," he replied. "If you want to leave I will order you a taxi and place you in it myself." Then his eyes twinkled. "If you want to leave, that is."
Beth saw the plain desire on his face as she stood before him, feeling small and naked. He stood motionless before her but kept his eyes locked firmly on hers as a predator stalking its prey.
"Tell me what you want," he said sternly.
"I.." the sentence faltered in her throat and she felt her heart beat faster.
"Tell me what you want," he repeated. Still, he made no move toward her but, flicking her eyes downward, she could see the firm bulge in his trousers and she felt herself get suddenly wetter.
"I..want to get a taxi," she replied meekly.
The barman remained where he was. "Tell me what you want".
Charged with the wine and the pangs of desire, Beth's mind began to rebel. She knew this was wrong, utterly wrong. She should ask - no, should demand - this man fetch her a taxi now and not touch her, but there was something in feeling trapped and helpless that appealed to her baser instincts.
"I..want.." she stuttered. Then a pause. "I..want..you."
And there it was. Suddenly, the room became small as he gathered her into his arms, his hands sliding tightly around her waist.
Even as her body melted into him she hated herself for giving the command but felt unable to resist.
Her heart thumped wildly in her chest as he reached under her dress. With rough abandon, his fingers pulled aside her already wet underwear and she gasped as he found her engorged clit. At the roughness of his touch, her mind was suddenly shaken and she tried to recoil.
"No. Please," she protested. "Taxi. Home."
"You don't want that, slut," he replied roughly. "You want this, don't you?"
"I do, sir.." came the automatic response, and she was suddenly disgusted with herself for saying it.
His fingers continued to play with her clit as she reached instinctively for his bulge, then unbuckled his trousers and released his straining cock. Curling her fist around it, she gave a few strokes as the man sighed in approval.
"Now. Down on your knees, slut," he commanded.
She felt her knees go weak at the order and dropped down before him. Her lips were inches from his throbbing member, but she kept them tightly closed as the battle raged within her. She was furious with this man for doing these things to her and furious at herself for allowing him to, but she was a slave to the arousal within.
The battle raged a moment longer, then desire won out and in one movement she leant forward and took his entire length into her warm, inviting mouth.
The barman sighed and closed his eyes as Beth's tongue teased the underside of his cock, then reached down to grasp her firmly by the hair. She gave a small yelp of pain as he gathered a clump in each fist, then began to slide her head back and forth on his straining cock at a pace and depth of his choosing.
"That's it, slut," he growled. "Take that cock in your wet little slut-mouth. You like that, don't you, slut?"
Beth moaned in response, then gave another yelp as he dragged her off his cock.
