It felt like I spent my life at Woody’s bar when I wasn’t working here, I was still here helping and drinking. I’d known the owners my whole life, Glenda used to babysit me and Woody taught me how to drive when I was 14 when my legs were finally long enough to reach the pedals. And when I turned 18 they gave me a job, started out as a pot washer, then a busser and when I was old enough to pour the drinks I’d become a bartender. It wasn’t a glamorous job by any means but I loved it, the customers made me smile, the staff made me laugh and the owners made it feel like home. And now that their son was back, I had someone to moon over.
We’d been crib buddies when Glenda babysat me and he was a sort of friend through school. He’d moved away at 16, led a wild life, too wild sometimes and then he came sauntering back through those doors 3 months ago. He was tending bar alongside me, for the most part I wasn’t complaining, the customers loved him, he was great with everyone that worked here even me most of the time. My only complaint? The bar was too damn narrow, when we passed each other we brushed up against each other and on more than one occasion he’d noticed my body’s reaction to him, he’d have to be blind not to see my nipples turn to bullet tips.
It hadn’t been a problem at first, we’d ignored it but the more it happens the more he smirks and he’s found excuses to touch me more. That’s why he was squatting beside me behind the bar, “reaching” for more napkins that he was positive were down there. He’s forearms were touching my bare legs, I didn’t move away partly because he’d grin at it and partly because well, I just didn’t want too. As he stood up his finger tips skimmed up my calf leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.
As the night progressed so did his small touches, especially as each customer started to leave. I felt his body press against my back when I bent forward to wipe the bar down, one hand resting on my hip as the other reached into the small shelf under the bar. “Sorry Doll, just looking for my phone.” He whispered it behind my ear, his hot breath travelling over my neck. He pressed harder against me as he tried to reach further into the shelf, but I couldn’t feel that arm moving. His hand on my hip moved up to the exposed skin of my stomach. I don’t think I was breathing as something hard pressed against my butt.
“I’m sorry, I’ll move.” I sounded breathless, my heart was in my mouth but it almost stopped when he stopped me from moving to the side. He leaned around me a little more causing him to grind against me and before I could cover my mouth a quiet moan escaped me. Both of his hands were now on my stomach and he made me shiver when soft lips pressed against the crook of my neck. “I’d rather you stay right here.”
The bar was empty, the jukebox filled the silence but it did little to cover my moans. He pulled me tightly against him, I didn’t resist and didn’t notice that I was grinding my butt against his hard-on until he cursed against my neck. I didn’t stop him when he undid the button and zipper of my denim shorts, I definitely didn’t stop him when he slid one hand inside of them and my eyes drifted closed when I felt him cup my pussy. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first day I saw you behind the bar, ” He lightly bit my neck just as he slid 2 fingers inside of me. “Fuck you’re tight.” He groaned and thrust his hips against me.
He pulled his hand from my shorts and pushed them and my panties down my hips, they slowly dropped to my knees, he parted my ass cheeks and thrust his fingers back into my pussy, pumping them. I bent over further, leaning my forearms on the bar to give him better access to me. I was moaning without any inhibitions now, thrusting back on his fingers. Anyone could walk in on us, but I didn’t care, it’d been too long since I’d been touched by anyone. I didn’t care if he thought I was easy because at this point I fucking am.
I was too entranced in the build up to my orgasm that I hadn’t noticed him undoing his own trousers until he replaced his fingers with his cock. I should stop him, ask if he was wearing protection at least but he’d stretched and filled me like never before, I didn’t want him to stop and leave me empty and aching for him. My head fell forward when he started to move slowly, pulling out to the tip and back in to the hilt. So slowly that I tried to thrust against him but he had me pinned against the bar.
Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. He pulled out completely and pulled my panties and shorts back up. “What, what are doing?” I looked around to see if we’d been caught, for some explanation to why he’d stopped but there was none. When I turned to face him, he was already on the other side of the bar to me with a huge grin on his face.
“We’ll finish later.” He shrugged walking away from me. I stared after him wondering what the fuck happened. I was so close to cuming and that fucker stopped, who the fuck does that? The longing and aching in my pussy was ten times worse now. “You can’t be serious!”
“Oh I am baby.” He actually laughed at me sweeping the floor with his back to me. I’d never killed someone before but this fucker was close to being beat with a chair.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/cupu8j/woodys_bar_part_one_mf_piv_edging_tease