Bar One [MF]

I’m at a bar, just past midnight, nowhere near closing time. It’s a crowded bar, with a dance floor and a sing-along classic rock vibe. I’m 30 years old, confident, professional, dressed well, presenting well. I’m feeling good about picking up someone tonight.

A pretty brunette girl with piercing blue eyes is chatting me up. She’s wearing a sundress and heels, and has curly hair. I’m alone at the bar, my buddy is flirting with a girl across the room. The bar is full, not crowded, and this sundress girl talking to me is very handsy. Touching my arms, my shoulders, brushing up on me as we chat.

She’s had a couple drinks, and she’s chosen her target. I’m the lucky guy. She’s a couple years older, maybe 33, but very fit. The sundress leaves nothing to the imagination. She’s not wearing a bra, and barely needs to, perhaps a B cup, tops. But she can move, and she’s into me. I feel really good about my chances of getting this girl to bed.

Published
Categorized as Erotica Tagged

Swaying at the Bar

I’m at a bar, it’s just past midnight, nowhere near closing time. I’m 30 years old at the time, confident. I’m a professional, dressed well, presenting well. I’m tall, I’m in shape and feeling good about picking up someone tonight. A pretty brunette girl in a cute sundress is chatting me up. It’s a crowded bar, with a dance floor and a sing-along classic rock vibe. My buddy is flirting with a girl across the room, and this sundress girl talking to me is very handsy. Touching my arms, my shoulders, brushing up on me as we chat.

She’s had a couple drinks, and she’s chosen her target. I’m the lucky guy. She’s a couple years older, maybe 33, but very fit. The sundress leaves nothing to the imagination. She’s not wearing a bra, and barely needs to, perhaps a B cup, tops. But she can move, and she’s into me. I feel really good about my chances of getting this girl to bed.

We talk a bit, 15 minutes, and she falls into me, “accidentally”. She puts her hand right on my cock, and leaves it a moment. She looks up at me, and I look down, with a raised eyebrow. She doesn’t move her hand, but doesn’t grab harder either. I ask if she’d like to leave with me, and she laughs as she says “no, I’ve barely met you.”