The streets were empty. I walked this time of night because I knew that they would be. When people asked why I chose to walk this time of night, I usually talked about how nice the silence felt and how cool the weather was. When they worried for me about who may be lurking outside, I liked to pretend that I had never considered the risks before, but now I would be more careful. I never did promise to stop however, because I wasn't going to. The risk wasn't something I hadn't considered before; it was something I was counting on.
Every night I pulled on my shortest skirt, and when it was cold, my tightest jumper, that barely fit me years ago, and certainly didn't now. Then I would head for the door and begin taking my evening stroll, on the side of the street where no one lived, and the lights never seemed to work. I would walk past truck stops and gas stations. Every now and then I would see hungry eyes following me, or coarse voices describing what they would do to me, but I never seemed to entice them enough to follow me. The most I ever got was an older gentleman that walked with me just until the end of the street, grazing his hand over my lower back, dropping it sporadically and pretending he didn't mean to tuck it down, so that is brushed dangerously against my ass. He seemed like he was considering following me, but the further we got away from the stop, the more he decided that whatever he had back there waiting for him was better. Tonight, I decided to walk past a tavern in the area. Maybe drunk men had less waiting for them, and less inhibitions to stop them.
When I walked past, I could see many neighbors I recognized, though most of them looked less polished this late into the evening. One of them I recognized as a gentleman that owned a house three doors up from mine. He also happened to be one neighbor that was always inexplicably outside whenever I brought men home. He would sometimes smile knowingly. Other times he would look disgusted. Sometimes he would be speaking with someone and they would go quiet, before he leaned in closer and they both broke out in laughter looking me over. He was probably not going to be the gentleman I would try and earn tonight. I looked around at the rest of them. Not everyone had noticed me, but the men that had had gone silent, setting free butterflies in my stomach. Regardless of who was trying to get their attention around them, they carefully looked me over. Their eyes tugging at my clothes, and their jeans becoming stiff as they imagined what they would do with a defenseless little slut, walking home alone this late at night. They didn't even think to look away, which meant that every terrible thought was mine to see and savor.
I pretended not to notice the stares as they carved themselves into my imagination and walked inside to the bar. I leaned over the bar, letting my skirt ride up against the curve of my ass and ordered a sweet cider I could sip on until someone was ready to take me away.
I fondled around my bag to find something to cover the drink when I heard a gruff voice next to me. "On me."
He handed over some cash and the barman passed him my drink. He was 40 and smelled like he had been grabbing drinks like this over the counter for a couple of evenings straight.
His hand tenderly touched the small of my back. "Join me and my friends, why don't you sweetheart. A couple of us are especially curious as to how you get around in a cute little skirt like that without some trouble."
I smiled and began following him to the table. "Trouble like you?"
He laughed and introduced me around the table. Most of them mumbled their names, and a couple eagerly took my hand to shake it. Some of them ignored me all together, frustrated that I had imposed. I sat down anyway and smiled to everyone. I felt the cool chair burn against my ass and steal the warmth from my cunt.
My pussy began to slobber slightly down my legs and onto the cool bar stool the more I stayed with the men. The one that brought me here couldn't stop himself from resting his hand on my leg every time they all looked at me, and then forgetting to move it when they stopped. His friend from across the table just couldn't seem to keep his eyes off my jumper that just barely cut off my chest where my nipples would meet them. During the night, some of the men left, but the ones that stayed back almost had me convinced that I was going to be getting very lucky tonight. Soon I learned their names properly. Mike was the lovely gentleman that covered my drink, Steve was the man that had a taste for my chest, and Dave was the least interested of all of them but hadn't decided to leave like the rest.
