"Beer please love," he said as he slapped five dollars onto the bar.
"Coming right up," I replied glancing up at him. He was unwashed, needed a shave and a haircut. He wore scruffy jeans and a vest that looked like it should have been binned, or burnt many years ago.
I took a beer glass off the shelf and filled it with the local brew. It was okay, tasted okay, but its main quality was that it was strong, and cheap, not necessarily in that order. "Bag of peanuts as well please," he added as I placed the beer in front of him.
"Salted?" I asked to which he just grunted an affirmation. I crouched down to get them and could feel his eyes on my ass. Standing up I placed them next to his beer and slid the 5 bucks off the bar. Ringing it up I offered him his change which he waved away. "Thanks," I smiled at him dropping the change into the tips jar.
He wandered off to a table and sat watching one of the many sports screens that was on. I leaned on the bar and watched the small TV at the end of the bar which was currently playing American Football. I knew the rules, but I wouldn't say that I followed it. I didn't have a team or anything like that, but of the sports shown it was the one I watched. I spent most of the time in fantasy imagining being stripped naked, lubed up and thrown in the changing rooms to be used and abused. I was fit and looked after myself and I had been with a few guys who were very keen on the gym, but I had never been with anyone who looked like them. I realise they wore a lot of padding, but not on their arms, and the muscles made my young female mind run riot. They could pick me up, mount me on their cock and spin me around like a Catherine wheel.
"Usual?" I asked as one of the regulars came to the bar.
"Please babe," he grinned at me.
I smiled back as I pulled him a pint and placed it on the bar. I was not his babe, or even casual associate, but he tipped well. He was also more than twice my age and married. "Tab?" I asked.
"Please," he said as he dropped a few coins into the tip jar and went back to the pool table.
I added his beer to his tab and got back to my fantasising about being gang banged by an entire football team. I wondered if they took drugs to aid their body shape, which lead me to wondering if they all had dicks like button mushrooms. I grinned as my imagination saw fit guys, more muscles than anything, naked, all of sporting teeny erections as I stood in the middle of them. I shook the image out of my head and using a cloth I wiped down the bar just for something to do.
The bar is a small town sports bar. It is dark and seedy with an equally dark and seedy clientele. It is larger than is ever required, we have two full size snooker tables, four pool tables and a two dart boards. There is also a selection of bar games that the older customers tend to use, sitting and playing dominoes, checkers or chess. On really slow nights I find myself sat watching them, it does have to be a really slow night though.
My name is Sophie, I am 19 years old, petite, 5 foot tall and weigh 50kg. I wear a dress size of 6 and a bra size of 28A, although I rarely bother with one as they are just uncomfortable in most situations. I was wearing cut off denim shorts and black tights underneath them. To make up for my short height I was wearing 6 inch stiletto heels which were skull studded. I was wearing a white vest top with a black skull print on it and my raven black hair was tied up into pigtails. I played up to my cute girl looks, it had a reputation of being a fairly a rough bar and I held more authority when half the customers wanted to bed me, and the other half saw me as a kid and wanted to protect me.
I did a quick round of the bar to collect the empties and placed them into the washer. It was a usual Tuesday night and it was only me who was working. The owner of the bar was upstairs, but he rarely made an appearance these days as he was well into his 70s. The bar earns him a decent living and all he had to do is pay me a few bucks an hour to look after the place for him. I was currently in my gap year from school, and when I say gap year I got busted smoking something I shouldn't have been so got kicked out of school. Not drugs, I don't touch them, his name was Mr greaves and he was the head of the department, I was caught on my knees, my top open and breasts on show with him watching me finger myself with my hand down my panties while giving him head to get an extension on my coursework. He got suspended, I got kicked out and I ended up here.
"Anyone fucking serving?" a small guy at the bar bellowed.
"Yeah, sorry, what can I get ya?" I asked in my friendly voice as I placed the glasses down and walked towards him.
"Beer," he said, his anger ebbing instantly as he saw me and eyed me up and down, "And that ass," he added as he watched me walk passed him.
"One beer coming up," I said as I poured his drink, "You cant afford the ass," I added with a cheeky smile.
"Try me," he said as he mentally undressed me which made my skin crawl.
"Let me rephrase," I said, "Not for sale," I added as I placed his beer down.
"Three dollars," I said.
He handed me the three dollars and perched himself on a bar stool which made my heart sink as he hadn't taken the hint and was now going to try and chat me up. He tried a few lines, which I politely answered with closed answers to try and kill the conversation. He really wasn't taking the hint though. He was old enough to be my Dad, he smelt like he had worked on a farm all day, which is fine, but he could have showered, or at least washed. He was barely any taller than me, although I did have heals on, and he also looked like in a toe to toe fight I would kick his ass. I am not big, or scary, and I like my men rough and ready, he looked like it would be me wearing the trousers, and I am not into that at all.
"Do you have Jack Daniels?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Double, with coke please," he said, "And your own."
I poured him his drink, took the ten bucks off the bar and handed him his change, dropping 1 dollar into the tip jar. "So what is your story?" he asked.
"No story, student earning some cash," I said as I divided my attention between the TV and him.
"Boyfriend?" he asked.
"No," I said instantly regretting my answer. If I had said yes he might have given up on his quest to get into my pants.
"Just you working?" he asked.
"Yeah, quiet Tuesday," I replied, "Owner is in the back," I added feeling creeped out by his line of questioning. I was so gonna get raped, or murdered, or both, in my mind I hoped he murdered me before doing the dirty as I really didn't want to experience him in me.