***Some quick flash-fiction to get back into the groove.***
Sweat dripped off Erik’s face, and he wiped himself down with a towel while the band played him off. The bar stank of cheap beer and BO, but his adrenaline was high. He was on top of the world, head throbbing from the dominating bass line, hand shaking from where he had played the final crescendo so hard he snapped his guitar strings. With a toss of his sandy hair, he turned to the crowd for one final, triumphant fist pump.
Half the room cheered, which was better than usual.
He planned to ride this high for the rest of the evening and tried to ignore how uncomfortable his jeans were after playing for two hours. With a shared nod to his drummer, he swiped a beer off a speaker, and made his way to the bar.
“Nice show,”
“Good job, dude!”
“How long you been playing, son?”
Faces, sober white and drunk pink, came to ask him questions about the show. Erik answered quickly, talking to a few of the girls for longer than he should have. He was fucking thirsty and was finished with his beer by the time he wedged himself into a free spot at the bar.
Hank was tall, black as tar, and bald as a baby. He swiped someone’s card, punched some numbers, and zoomed over to Erik. Hank always smiled with his teeth and spoke with a southern Louisiana accent.
“Good show, K. Dramatic flair like usual,” said the bartender. Erik rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know if I can afford the new strings though.”
Hank was already pulling a beer from tap, grinning like a skull. “Well, drinks on the house tonight, so don’t worry about it.”
When Erik moved to Nashville for music, the first thing he did was become a regular at Hank’s bar. Chum it up with the bartender’s and you could get just about anything done. In the bar, Hank was king, and after a couple weeks of friendship, he put Erik and the band on the listing. It didn’t pay, but it was all about exposure, and was a good way to cap off his weeks after working at Lowes.
“Thanks, Hank. Put it on my tab,” Erik winked.
“Shit, K, you’ve never had a tab. Too cheap for that,” and then he was gone, catching the eye of some girl and chatting her up like they were long lost friends. Erik sipped the beer and cringed. Cheapest thing they had, but that was the great thing about beer – cheap, expensive, craft, commercial, it all tasted the same when you had enough of it.
Hank served the rest of the band on the other end of the bar. Erik liked his little moment, surrounded by strangers patting him on the back, shaking his hand, telling him how they wished *they* had started a music career. He was front man, lead guitarist, and face of the band. Erik hammed it up with everyone who lent an ear.
A couple also bought him drinks, which was the other benefit of having any amount of charm.
Hank moved back and forth like a wraith in the dark, all teeth and whites of the eyes. At some point he laughed, nodded, tipped his head toward Erik. That caught his attention.
“- and I could just never figure out how to transpose shit, y’know,” said some chubby college kid, blabbering about his own guitar experience. Hank was coming over.
“Right, well, enough practice and you can do anything. Nice chatting with you, man, but I gotta have a word with Hank,” with a pat of the shoulder, Erik dismissed his newfound companion and spun back toward the bar. A bit too quickly. His head continued spinning after he stopped.
Hank leaned forward, forearms on the bar, mischievous glint in his eye and crooked grin stamped on his face like he was born with it. Hank and Erik were like atoms spinning around each other, feeding off each other’s charisma and energy. People gravitated toward them, but when they were talking, no one disturbed them. Together, they could sell desert to a Saharan trader.
“Yo, K, lookin’ for something tonight?”
“Like coke?”
“Nah. Pussy.”
Erik scratched his neck. It had been a week since he’d been laid, and there was a slight ache in his balls when he thought about it. He scanned the bar, looking at the girls with their sorority looks and ugly friends they brought along out of pity.
“Maybe. Not a lot to choose from.”
“Nah, K, not the kappa delta’s and whatever-the-fuck else we got here. Someone else. Wanna give it a shot?”
Hank had that look in his eye that never steered Erik wrong before. He shrugged and sipped an expensive beer some old guy had bought him.
“Yeah, sure, why not?” Erik said. Hank nodded and was gone, talking to a customer, swaying them with his New Orleans jive, a rattling cackle sounding like a jangle of bones as he laughed at a joke that wasn’t funny.
Someone stood up next to Erik, vacated the spot. Someone else sat down no more than a fraction of a second later.
“Erik with a K, right? Hank told me about you,” came a smooth, unfamiliar voice. Erik turned to whoever it was and had to hope she didn’t notice his growing erection.
The girl next to him was skinny as a ghoul, but viciously pretty. Her pale features were marked by thick, purple eyeliner and daring red lipstick. She wore gauges which stretched her ears some, but not too much. A tiny, decorative choker around her neck made him wish it was his hands there instead. She wore a cheap blouse that promised a bit of cleavage from her modest chest and wore a black denim jacket smattered with fading patches and hazardously mended rips. She wore short, dark shorts with fishnet leggings and black combat boots.
She had a piercing in her cheek, and one over her eye. Her hair was a smattering of colors, rainbow at the roots. The rest was as black as Hank was. Her nails were pink, which Erik thought was an interesting choice considering the rest of her choice. The edge of a tattoo poked out from her sleeve.
He put on his billion-dollar smile. “Yeah. Like the show?”
“It was alright,” said the girl, which rubbed Erik the wrong way, but he suppressed his irritation. This girl *was* pretty, and for a face like that, he could swallow his pride.
“Right. So, Hank told you something about me then? What was it?” He turned toward her, leaned on the bar.
Whoever this girl was, she didn’t smile a lot. He could tell she was sober from the tone of her skin and the sharp look in her eye. That was kind of disappointing, Erik found girls easier when strung out or drunk. She was staring over his shoulder, and when her eyes met his, he felt his heart speed up.
Goddamn, she was pretty.
She leaned toward him, close enough he could smell her fruit perfume and see the veins in her hands.
“Wanna fuck?”
Erik choked on his beer and started coughing. Worry flashed on her face and she straightened, awkwardly patting his shoulder.
“Woah, man, you okay?”
Erik waved her hand off. “Yeah, yeah, just,” a couple more coughs. “What?”
“I like your vibe. Alright music. You’re like…A seven out of ten, but Hank is vouching for you, so that makes you a ten out of ten to me. Wanna fuck? Now.” She casually explained. Erik ignored the fact she called him a seven out of ten – he was at least an eight – but also quietly thanked God for Hank.
Make friends with your bartenders, they’re the kings of the evening.
“Now?” He asked. She made a face.
“Are you that drunk? If you are, I’ll just go,” and she started to rise.
“No, no, wait,” Erik put his hand on her knee, making her pause. “Sorry, I’m just sort of taken aback by this all. What do you mean by now? Where would we go?”
“The bathroom?” She said, as if it was obvious and he was an idiot for asking.
The girl grabbed him and guided him through the crowd the moment he said yes, her hand gripping his tight. Hank’s bathrooms were single rooms, three of them dotting the wall at the back and shrouded in darkness. The interior was decorated with a myriad of graffiti and make half a hundred crudely drawn cocks on the wall.
And his cock was rock hard as he shut the door behind him and shoved her against the wall, lips locked against hers. She held his face, tongue thrust in his mouth, one leg raised up and around him so their crotches rubbed against each other. He could feel the heat between their denim, his cock pushed against her.
He gripped her hips, forehead against hers as he grinded against her on the wall. Her breath was hot on his lips, the taste of booze on his tongue. His fingers started exploring his shorts, pulling at the buttons keeping them up. Her hands went for his belt and opened them quickly.
“I’m clean, by the way,” she breathed into his mouth as she fished his cock out of his pants. “Here.”
The girl pulled her phone out of her back pant pocket as her shorts were halfway off. She showed him a blurry picture of a clinic appointment. Clean across the board. Not like he was really worried about it.
“Alright, good,”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?” Erik asked, his cock leaking precum into her hand as she stroked him.
“Clean.”
“Got tested a week ago. No, uh, picture though.” He said. She made a face, and for a moment he was worried she would peel out of the bathroom and leave him hard and frustrated.
The shorts dropped to her ankles. She wore a g-string that barely concealed anything. Dropping to her knees, she swallowed the head of his cock, hand jerking his length. “You’re lucky you’re big,” she moaned before opening her mouth wider and swallowing half his dick. Erik gasped in surprise, her bright red lips enveloping his cock.
He reached back, fumbling with the scuffed lock. Once he was certain no one was going to come in, he pushed his hips against her. Her head bobbed up and down, smearing red lines along his shaft as she swallowed him. Her mouth was soft, lips sucking hard around the head of his cock as she dragged her tongue underneath his whole cock.
Pumping her hand, she suckled on the tip and ran her tongue around it, causing lances of pleasure to rise from his dick to his sides. He sucked in a gasp of air, worried he was going to bust in this chick’s mouth before he even had time to fuck her. His cock quivered, his balls tightened and it took everything in his power not to cum. Erik closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
Then his dick was in the open air. Opening his eyes, he saw the girl bent over the toilet, gripping the back and sticking her ass up toward him. Her panties were at her ankls and her pink pussy stared out at him in the dim bathroom light. He could see the ring of her asshole and figured she often got fucked in the ass.
“Whichever hole is fine,” she hummed.
Erik grabbed her hips and guided his cock into her cunt. She let out a small moan as he slipped in, and he grunted. She wasn’t very tight, but he didn’t really care. Pussy was pussy, and he pushed himself up to his balls. He bucked his hips, causing her to moan loudly and grip the toilet tighter.
Bunching his shirt up, he pulled it to his chin so it wouldn’t get in his way. She had a small ass, but what she did have clapped with each thrust of his hips. Her moans rose in volume, and he was sure that anyone waiting in line would have heard them fucking. The toilet rocked with their movements.
“Spank me,” she grunted. Drunk and stinking of sweat and sex, he obliged, striking her ass. She squealed in pleasure. “Fuck yes, again, hit me more.”
So that’s the kind of girl this was. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he slapped her ass, harder and harder, until her pale cheeks were rosy from abuse and she was panting like a bitch in het. The bob of her hair rocked as she pushed back against him, moaning loudly and hands on the wall now.
“Force my head in the toilet,” she grunted, leaning back, shifting so that her hands held the filthy walls. “Fuck my stupid cunt and shove me in the toilet.”
He grabbed a knot of rainbow hair and bent her so far down he saw her spine push against her skin and her head was in the toilet. “Fucking stay there, bitch,” he grunted, and she just moaned in the toilet bowl as he gripped her hips and sped up. His cock was in heaven, and he was on cloud nine.
“I’m gonna cum inside,” he growled over the moans and the spanks. His fingers dragged red lines on her ass and lower back.
“Cum in me, fuck my worthless pussy!” She cried, hot voice echoing out of the toilet. If not for the music playing in the bar, he’s sure everyone would have heard them. The clap of hips and ass reached a crescendo as he thrust once, twice, and let out a long, low groan. He blew his load inside her and felt his cum pouring into this girl he met ten minutes before.
She was on her knees, makeup surprisingly untouched, sucking his dick clean and sticking a couple of fingers in her pussy. Cum dripped out of her, on the floor. With a satisfied pop, she showed him her clean tongue, winked, and stood.
“Not bad,” she said, and before Erik could comprehend how fast they were finished, her shorts were on and she was gone. Erik stood there, gawking, dick out. Someone tried to open the door, and he only barely got his dick away in time.
Hank was grinning like a madman when Erik sat back down, a beer ready for him.
“Who the fuck was that girl?” Erik asked, and Hank shot a knowing wink.
She walked in on the other side of the bar, to the register, and clicked some buttons. Immediately, people started ordering from her, and she started moving.
“New hire. Her name’s Alicia. Great pussy, and she’s an absolute freak, ain’t she?”
“What the fuck, Hank.”
The tall southerner chuckled and took a sip of his own beer. Erik watching in drunken wonder as Alicia worked and acted like he didn’t exist. When she finally did take note of him, she just cocked an eyebrow, nodded slightly, and moved on.
Erik was unreasonably, deeply infatuated with the new goth bartender.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ghuh1v/in_the_bathroom_after_the_show_mf_goth_oral