It started with a day off. Thanks to all the veterans who fought for this great country, I get a Thursday in November off from work. I celebrate their blood by going off to my local bar and seeing how many beers I can knock back (and how many skirts I can chase) before someone takes a swing. I'm not saying I'm the toughest guy in the world. Lord knows I've taking my share of lumps for my carefree attitude.
Some men just know their place. At 32, I had no wife, no kids, and a suck-ass job, with little prospect of changing any of that. It wasn't like I walked the street looking to hurt someone -- or was out knocking off gas stations or mugging old ladies. I guess I was just a tiny thorn in society's ass.
I set off for my local pub, Barneys, leaving the truck at home. (Not that I cared about drunk-driving, but just so I could find it later when Barney shut me off.)
It was just after noontime when I strolled in. Barney rolled his eyes, but pulled me a draft.
"To the Vets," I toasted. I don't know if anyone responded, because across the bar a black dress caught my eye. Two large dudes, wearing leather, flanked her. I seen both of them before, but they didn't know me.
I took a second look and then a third, not at the dudes, but at the black dress. And, yes, it WAS Lexi. I was confused because she was Charlie's girl. She was also looking hotter than usual. Her normally flat brown hair was teased and I particularly loved her lips: peach and glossy. She was primped to play, but it didn't fit, it was just after noontime, and Charlie wasn't around.
Oh, yeah, I didn't mention that Charlie was a female. She was bull dyke, but she was our dyke. She even played on my dart team.
I saw one of the dudes cop a feel. Lexi smacked him. He raised his hand, and I started around the bar.
"Easy, Steven," Barney warned. "It's a little early for that shit."
It took a stare down and some threats, but I was able to pull Lexi out of the bar. (Barney grabbing his Louisville slugger helped the cause.) I heard a death threat follow me out the door. I'd have to put that on the list.
Lexi wasn't happy, but gave me her car keys. Even though it was a short ride, I found out that Charlie was out of town -- a long way out of town -- on business, and Lexi was feeling neglected. It planted a seed.
"Hey, you said you were taking me home," Lexi whined, when we pulled up to my house. (Well, I rented the second floor.)
"And I did. Now get your ass in the house." I had to literally drag her into the house and up the stairs.
* * * * *
One hour later, I handed Lexi her cell phone and ordered her to call Charlie. She whined and whimpered some more, but she finally did make the call.
"Now remember what I told you," I warned her. I put my arm around her neck and pulled her close.
"Hi, honey, I know you have that meeting coming up, but I just called to say hi." Lexi's voice was cracking.
"Me, not much. Did go down to Barneys today, though." (Hearing only one side of the conversation, I would have to stay focused.)
"Oh, I was just a little bored and looking for some fun."
"Yeah, I'm serious...Barneys. I even wore that black outfit you like so much. You know the one that makes me look like a common whore on the prowl. And I had on them stupid black high heels you bought."
"Yeah, the ones with the straps that wrap around my calves. Well, the outfit worked. I had these two big guys all over me. The things they wanted to do with me...."
"NO...I just went there to...you know, tease."
"I wouldn't have. I so would have been sick, and I might have needed some shots afterwards."
"You're right, your friends wouldn't let that happen. One of them came to your defense and dragged me out of there. It wasn't that easy; it almost caused a brawl."
"Oh, really? But now it's like an hour later, and I'm still with him. He's sitting right next to me."
"Yeah, it's a him. He's on your dart team."
"What am I doing?" (She looked at me and pleaded with her eyes. I raised a fist.) "Well, you're not going to like this...but I have his hard cock in my right hand, right now, as we talk."
"Go ahead and laugh, but I do. It's really hard, too. He told me before I called that he's done this a million times, even thinking about me, but my little hand feels so much better, and he confessed he thought that this would never happen."
"I'm not stroking that fast. He showed me how fast he wants it."
I cleared my throat. (I had instructed her just what I wanted her to say, and she was straying.)
"Shhh.... Alright, I'll tell her," she said, in a stage whisper.
"He wanted me to tell you that I'm butt naked, all except for them damn heels."
"No, I didn't want to get naked for him, but it was all I could think of. As soon as we got here, he said he was going to fuck me silly. I was stalling for time to think of a way out of it."
"Why? He said I owe him, because he put his neck on the line and something about having to watch his back from now on. He was pissed when I told him what I was really doing. He also tricked me and drove me to his place when he'd said he would take me home, and that's why I'm here."
"That's what I said. He didn't understand that you like it when I flirt with men, knowing they'd never have a chance. He said I'd done that one time too many. He can be really scary."
"I thought he was going to...he was all over me, but I pulled away and said the only thing I could think of."
"No, at first he didn't think I was serious. He even half-joking said, 'Ok, then strip, bitch.' It was crude, but I had a point to make, so I started. No dancing, just a slow (and, I'm sure, sexy) shedding of my sluttish duds. First my dress hit the floor, leaving me in my lacy, black and white bra and panties set. He looked me over, lustfully. I ran my hands over my body. He chanted 'take it off.' I answered by taking something off: My bra. He'd been sneaking looks at my tits for some time, so I knew it would shut him up.... Men...!"
"He had me tease my nipples to make sure they were nice and hard. I was embarrassed...'cause they were already. I even had to give him a little taste, first the right nipple and then the left. He sucked like a hungry baby, even sulking a little when I pulled away. I thought that might be enough, but deep down I knew I still had work to do."
"Yeah, work. Remember, he said, 'Strip.' I still had my panties to go. It was a little harder to muster the courage to drop them to the floor, seeing as you like me shaved clean down there, and I was stupid enough to comply. But I stepped out of them and kicked them over. He picked them up as if collecting a souvenir."
"I was still stalling, so I asked him if he wanted to see my ass. THAT was a stupid question, 'cause he was practically drooling. I backed up and slid my hands to my knees and waved my ass at him. It was more than a little humiliating. At least he had enough class to compliment my ass and give it a nice soft caress instead of a groping. I could tell he was also checking out more than my ass when I felt my cheeks being subtly pulled apart. I stood up quickly when I felt his finger slid over my pussy. I wasn't quite ready for that."
"He wasn't happy, that's what. He wanted to...you know...fuck me...right NOW. But I asked for more foreplay. He huffed, and then he ran to the bathroom and came back with some towels."
"Why? Because he took my clothes with him, that's why. He said he'd give'em back when he was done with me."
"I begged him to take me home. He laughed and tossed me my purse, but I knew he had my car keys, as well as my clothes. He moved over and opened the door."
"Yeah, it was definitely time for Plan B. I wasn't leaving naked...and, yes, I'm still stroking his cock."
"The towels? He spread one on the floor and snapped his fingers. I whimpered, but, like a puppy dog, I came. He showed me a bottle of baby oil. I laughed. He said a women friend had left it. I joked it must have been a long time ago, noticing the dust. He responded by telling me that he was going to rub it in now, and, boy, did he. It was a little perverse at first. He had me stand there with my hands behind my head and my legs spread apart, like I was under arrest. At least he had soft hands (and the oil helped). I had to close my eyes. He lingered in all the places you'd think he would. I reminded him not to put it on my pussy, and he said he had another tube of lotion for that."
"He suddenly stopped. I opened my eyes, and he was putting another towel on his couch. He pulled me over, and I sat down. He made sure I was on the couch's edge, and then he spread my thighs apart. I wondered what was next, but he answered by taking one of my hands and putting it on my pussy. But, he didn't want me to masturbate as much as he wanted me to show him my pussy. He slid down on his coffee table and positioned himself like he was a gynecologist. He also gave me instructions. I couldn't believe I complied, just like he was a real doctor. Although, all too soon, I was showing him even more than my gynecologist ever got to see. He produced that tube of lotion. It was almost empty...from jerking off I'm sure. He lubed his finger. This time I couldn't pull away when he slid a finger in. He moved it around like he was looking for something. I don't know what he does for a living, but he missed his calling. Although, considering how long as he probed --and with gloveless hands, too -- he would have lost his medical license. He finally pulled out, but he wasn't done."
"No, of course I didn't like it."
"He told me to grab my legs under my knees and lift. When I was in position, he smiled like a devil. That made me question my actions. But then it got worse -- when I felt him rub lotion on my asshole. I really tried to fight him, honey. But, quite frankly, he was stronger. He 'helped' me back into position and told me he was going to examine my asshole, whether I liked it or not. I closed my eyes like I do at the doctor's and waited for the finger. Only this time it wasn't a women's finger. I knew it was going to be different, but it was still jarring. He went slowly, but I couldn't help shedding a tear knowing I'd crossed a line, and there was no turning back. I was his to do with as he pleased. I also figured he wouldn't be satisfied with just a finger, that thought alone brought more tears. He pulled his finger out, seemingly noticing my discomfort and used a towel to dry my tears. I thanked him."
