A typical Spanish holiday evening held onto the heat of the day, wearing anything was a challenge, especially maintaining some decorum in a light cotton dress. Going commando and braless was a demand, not an option.
As far as Bars go this one looked like it was once a small supermarket and had the bright lighting to go with it, strange place. But the name was promising something music orientated, live music floating out of the automatic doors. It had a bar and a pool table, worth one drink.
The place was not exactly heaving, lightly populated by what looked like the local leathery blonde Expats, not a single tourist looking person insight.
“Bollocks I thought, not going to see much action here.”
The guy making all the noise was alone guitarist/singer screeching out some Pink Floyd number, he immediately acknowledged my friend and I with a witty remark. My friend, Charlotte, whispered in my ear “cheesy” and we both giggled which prompted him to more witty remarks over the mic, but we just wanted the bar ASAP. Despite being slightly attractive his witty mic powered taunts were very unattractive, a bit of a pratt.
We found the bar empty, no one in sight so we propped up the bar with a couple of stools, turned out to be a good move because at that moment the barman came out of a back door, oh my god.
I am almost sure I let out a small yelp. Charlotte actually murmured “fuck”.
Standing before us was the iconic greek god. Tanned, Tall, Toned (the three T’s, take notes gentleman). He had pale blue eyes and thick blonde hair. yum yum.
He purposely engaged in eye contact and asked us what he could get us…
In a very camp voice! NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
It became very obvious to us after an entertaining conversation with this guy, Jon, that we were not his type. Beautiful man, very funny, great barman, but unfortunately not taking one of us home tonight for a bit of a summer romance, bummer.
Jon held us in the bar for a few drinks, without his entertainment the guitarist alone would have driven us away, who floated over a few times to attempt his version of flirting, cheesy.
The bar started to fill with more Expats, mostly bar staff from other bars in the area seems this place was the local late bar. As people filtered in a new singer took the stage in what appeared an open mic session. Turns out a lot of the folks were musicians as various instruments appeared and joined. The lights lowered and the vibe picked up with lots of shots and drinks, might be a good night after all.
The singer, a young attractive girl with the mic broke out of her pretty good rendition of Alannah Myles Black Velvet
“Let’s start again, it’s not right without a Bass, Jay? Jay?”
“I am coming, hold on”, a thick accent retorted from somewhere around the pool table.
Stomping into view with the force of a rhino came this very powerful looking, I can only describe him as a Viking looking guy.
He was tanned, he was toned, but not in the gym sense, in the raw sense, the muscle you can only gain from hard labour which was accentuated by a white vest that needed a good wash and iron.
His long dirty blonde hair tied back and strong jaw framed with a surprisingly tidy beard. His blue jeans were tight and revealing an obvious power in the trouser department, wink wink. I imagine these jeans would be too big for most men, his legs were like the proverbial tree trunks.
And my god, was he tall, at least 2 meters of raw power. The three Capital T’s, underlined, in bold and in large font size. TTT.
He grabbed a Bass guitar from somewhere, it looked so small, and begun playing it as if it was like walking to him, effortless.
It is then I realised I was turned on by this savage, really turned on.
Charlotte, I still rib her to this day, had decided she liked cheesy and was deep in a touchy conversation with the guitarist and it looked like it was going places. I cannot be outdone!
Several songs pass and more shots and drinks swirled around the now buzzing bar. Made conversation with a few patrons and brushed off the odd advance from the lesser mortals satelliting this monster of a bassist who was still playing, one-handed, beer and cigarette in the other hand. Did I mention the tattoos? Lots, tribal looking.
Then he stopped and moved back towards the pool table, time for me to make my move.
I slipped between the mass of bodies, deliberately brushing my self against the wall, it felt good, and headed towards the pool table drink in hand stumbling into a conversation about where the white ball should be positioned.
A player, stick in hand, called the beast Jakob, turns out Jay is really called Jakob.
I said “great bass… Jakob”, nice opening line idiot
“thank you” he replied looking at me as if I was his next meal, gulp
I strike up a conversation with Jakob over the next hour slowly getting his vibe and more importantly if he was interested as the bar began to empty into the early morning street as people milled around and went in their own directions. Charlotte was long gone.
It turned out Jakob owned and lived in the bar and as I looked around I realised we were the only ones in the bar. I must have drunk a little too much.
I turned back to Jakob to feign leaving when I realised he was unpacking the thickest cock I have ever seen from his jeans. I went from a 3 on the wet scale to 10 in seconds, it was beautiful! Even his penis had muscles, I swear.
He kicked off his jeans and pulled his vest over his head and stood before me like some kind of rippling potent warrior and I loved it, my vagina loved it.
He advanced towards me pulsating, straining, throbbing, growling I got on tiptoe for the expected kiss, nope.
He grabbed the hair at the back of my head and forcefully pushed me face-first over the pool table at the same time nudging my feet apart.
“If you don’t want it, say stop now” he growled “otherwise I will do what I like” I just kept quiet, very very quiet, soakingly quiet.
I felt his hand pull my dress up exposing my raised ass cheeks flopping over my head and shoulder blades, I couldn’t see much through the material. What happened next I was not expecting!
You know those key chains made of ribbon people use for ID cards and or Keys around their necks, this one was black…
He had one hand holding my arms behind my back, his groin was pressing his mass of man across my ass cheeks, it extended up to the 5th vertebrae I am convinced.
He snatched the dress off my head and slipped the silky ribbon around my neck, I climaxed there and then in one long body tensing spasm. So hard I involuntary drove my pelvis back, Jakob’s resistance did not falter, it was a brick wall.
I could feel my cum dripping down my inner thigh, Jakob could too. He bent slightly and wiped his manhood up and down my thigh, then across my clitoris and brushed my anus sending a chemically induced shiver across my entire body, he continued collecting my juices on his weapon for what seemed like ages. I was not ready for his next action.
He pulled the ribbon tight around my neck forcing me arch my back up while holding my hips down with his groin, I felt him handle his swollen member and then…
He slid up my arse
He pushed down with his hand on the small of my back, pulled tight on the ribbon and drove into and out of me like a runaway pistol engine faster and faster.
I came again, covering his balls with my liquid, that proved too much for him.
His cock twitched inside me, two, three powerful twitches, I then realised I had not been taking all of him, he thrust all of him inside me, it filled me up and slightly hurt as his jets of cum spurted into my arse.
As he tensed up he pulled tighter on the ribbon and pushed harder into me, he seemed to hold me there for minutes as he continued pumping cum into me. Another orgasm ripped through me.
I never saw him again.