The Bartender’s Pinkie

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After her second cosmopolitan, Harper glances around the bar. She is surrounded by couples and tight clusters of laughing friends. Nearest she can tell, she’s the only one who is drinking alone.

She wishes the bartender wasn’t so busy; otherwise, she’d strike up a conversation. He’s young with a short-cropped, almost military-style hair cut and lips she thinks she’d like to get to know. Her mind wonders for a moment as she absently twists her wedding band in her lap. When she realizes what she’s doing, Harper stops and lets out a low, frustrated sigh.

“Are you alright?”

It’s the bartender, and he’s smiling at her, but she can see the concern in his eyes. Suddenly, Harper doesn’t know what to say, and she offers him a “Yeah, just…” But the rest doesn’t come. For a moment, there is a traffic jam of words inside of her.

“Could I have another Cosmo?” She finally manages. The bartender studies her for a moment before finally nodding. A moment later, he is sliding Harper another drink, only now he’s looking at her with a mixture of concern and pity thinly masked by a smile. She needs to say something to rid that look from his face.

“I didn’t expect it to be so crowded.” This is a lie. However, the bartender buys it. He looks around the bar like an explorer surveying a new land.

“Yeah,” he starts and absently scratches his nose. “It’s good, though. It keeps me busy.”

“I guess,” Harper answers. “It’s just sorta’ weird to me. I mean, where are all the singles at?” and from that though, another one crops up. “Do singles still go to the bar?”

“Singles?” that look of pity falls from his face, and instead, the bartender looks surprised. He leans on the counter on his elbows and offers her a smile that’s a little more than professional. Harper thinks he’s good looking, in that rough around the edges sort of way.

“Are you on the prowl tonight?”

Now Harper’s nervous smile burst into a nervous laugh, and she sees that he’s all brown eyes and cheekbones. Under the counter, she begins to twist off her wedding band.

“A-And?” She starts, but the words are still stubborn in her mouth. “What if I am?” They finally pull free of her as she drops her wedding band into her purse.

The bartender chuckles. “Well, what exactly are you looking for? Maybe I can point you in the right direction.”

What Harper is looking for is a warm body and a hard cock, and she likes what she sees. She’s disappointed that he hasn’t caught on yet. She answers, “Tall and handsome, and if they were wearing glasses, I wouldn’t mind.” He catches her description, then adjusts his glasses on his face, and stands up straight. He’s at least a foot taller than Harper.

Before they can continue, someone on the other side of the bar hails him, and he tells her he’ll be right back. Harper takes a moment to finish her drink in two massive gulps. Her stomach feels warm, and the alcohol softens the corners of her mind as she begins to wonder.

Harper wonders if she can trace his hairline on the back of his neck. She thinks, “He can probably fuck like candles burn.” She wonders how it would feel to have his hands all over her. She wonders what face he’ll make when he cums.

When he returns, she realizes she hasn’t introduced herself. “I’m sorry,” She says and holds out her hand. “I’m Harper.”

“I’m Eric,” He says and they shake, only he holds it for a moment that is a little longer than polite. He finally lets it go to wave to a crowd as they leave. He wishes them well, tells them to get home safe, then turns back to Harper.

“Next to the bathrooms, there’s a door for employees only. It’s the office. Why don’t you head back? I’ll be with you in a little bit.”

Harper feels herself blushing. Something about his forwardness is both arousing and embarrassing. Below her pleated skirt, she rubs her thighs together, as if that will ward off the broken faucet between her legs.

She stands, shoulders her purse, and eyes him once over. “Don’t keep me waiting long.” Harper doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, she makes her way towards the back and realizes that half the bar has emptied out.

When she reaches the door labeled ’employees only,’ she takes a cautionary glance pendik escort around, but no one seems to notice her. She turns the knob, pushes in, and is greeted by a small, but well-kept office. It’s not quite broom-closet size, but if there were four people in here, they’d all be rubbing elbows.

She focuses on the desk facing, and the chair half pulled out. Harper imagines Eric sitting with his back to her. She runs a hand along the rest of the chair, and in the fantasy, he looks up from whatever he’s doing, surprised to see her. Eric turns mouth poised to say something, but she leans down and kisses him, ceasing the words between their tongues.

Her fantasy lurches forward, and Harper is sitting on his desk, legs splayed open. Eric is still in his chair, except he’s leaning down with his cheeks brushing the inside of her thighs. He eats her pussy well, taking his time to both bathe her in affection, and attention, which is more than her husband has done in the past two years.

She wants the mindless fucking of two strangers, but Harper also wants to be praised and to feel wanted. She wonders if this little fling will check those two boxes.

The door shut, and the sound pulls Harper from the question. She turns and is surprised at how close Eric is. They stand nearly chest to chest, and distantly, Harper wonders if this really was a broom closet before.

“Your boss gonna’ be upset that we’re in their office?” She’s trying to sound funny, but Harper can feel nervous energy clinging to her like static.

Eric smiles. “I am the boss.”

“Oh yeah? You own this place?” She’s watching his mouth, liking how he’s smiling and licking his lips. And when he nods, Harper fixes him with a smile that is both sarcastic and unbelieving.

“Well,” He relents. Eric takes off his glasses, polishes them to a shine on his shirt, then puts them back on. “Half of it is anyway.” He takes her by the hand and pulls Harper into his arms. His eyes have softened, and there is something playful in his lips.

“I hope you didn’t come back here thinking we were going to talk? Misses I’m on the prowl.” He says this last part in a mocking tone, and Harper can’t help but laugh to cover her embarrassment.

“Well, what else are we going to do?” She asks, and the insinuation behind the question is so thick, it nearly suffocates Harper.

Eric leans down and kisses her, and as far as answers go, Harper thinks this is the right one. He pulls her into him greedily as if he’s afraid she’ll get away, and Harper thinks, “Honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

She kneels and begins to tug at Eric’s jeans, feeling her excitement swell at the slow reveal of his erection until the head of his cock catches on the waistband. She tugs one final time before his cock pulls free and bobs like a spring-loaded toy, inches from her face.

Harper’s eyes widen. By no means was it the first cock she’d seen, but it’s been a while since her last one, “It’s-” She fumbles for the right words.

“Small,” Eric finishes for her. “I know. It’s like a pinkie.”

He shoots her a mock frown before pulling off his shirt, and Harper allows herself to reach up and gently run her nails down his chest. He’s a little hairy and in good shape, say for the apple roundness of his stomach, a stark contrast to her husband’s flabby body.

“Pinkie, huh?” She works her fingers around his cock and strokes him, loving the long drawn out sigh that escapes him. “Biggest pinkie I’ve ever seen.”

Eric Chuckles. “You should get out more.”

He reaches down and holds his actual pinkie out next to his cock, as if they were comparable.

“See?” He says. “They’re just about the same.”

Harper decides to humor him. She licks the tip of his pinkie before taking it all the way down to the knuckle. Then, she spits on his cock before tracing her tongue along the tip of his head.

“Oh shit,” Eric Gasps. Harper likes the way he sounds, and so she takes her time with him, sucking on just his head until she feels Eric’s hips flex, pushing his cock a little deeper into her throat. She braces her palms against Eric’s thighs as she feels his hand caress the back of her head, and Eric forces another inch down her throat.

Harper maltepe escort feels his body tensed against her and is dimly aware of Eric’s wiry pubic hair tickling her nose. She struggles to take his entire “pinkie.” When she finally does, Harper feels it twitch against her tongue, and a silvery strand of spit escapes the corner of her mouth.

At last, Harper withdraws slowly, making a show for him. She wipes her eyes before peering up at him and smacking her lips as if she’d just sampled a fine dish.

“Mmmm.” A purr satisfaction escapes Harper before she shakes her head as if coming to a final decision. “Nope.” The word slips out from between her lips as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “I don’t think they’re the same.”

Eric smiles before reaching down and pulling Harper to her feet. “Turn around, pretty lady.”

Harper turns away from him and bends over the desk chair. She lifts her skirt and hears Eric suck in air through his teeth. “Damn girl,” There is a hunger to his words that she likes, following that, there is the warmth of his grip. “Your ass is amazing,” Eric says as he spreads her open.

Harper tosses a smile over her shoulder as one of Eric’s fingers gently traces her asshole. She imagines his tongue instead of Eric’s finger, then chides herself for wanting such a disgusting thing, but the thought lingers like morning fog in her mind.

Eric kneels and spits violently between her cheeks, then Harper feels his tongue playing at her puckers knot, and her mouth falls open. She’s never had a man eat her asshole, and the sensation made her knees tremble. She expects him to stand up after a moment, not spending too much time back there, but Eric surprises her. His tongue delves out a twisted pleasure she thought only existed in her inky dark fantasies.

His hands run up and down Harper’s thighs as his tongue works, and she feels her whole body begin to loosen like a muscle that’s been clenched for too long. She reaches down, finding her the jewel of her clit, and begins to tease her fingers around it.

She’s trying to keep her voice under control, afraid that someone will hear them so close to the bathrooms, but now with Eric’s tongue in her ass and her fingers polishing her clit, she gives in and allows her moans to fill the little office. With her other hand, Harper reaches back and runs a hand over Eric’s head. She wishes he had longer hair.

“I want you inside of me.” She says, then smiles. “I want your pinkie inside of me.”

She feels Eric pull free and puff out a laugh against her ass and pussy. When he stands, his cock brushes between her cheeks, and Harper squirms into him, feeling tiger stripes of anticipation all over her body.

“I don’t think it’s big enough for a woman like you.”

Harper opens her mouth to ask what a ‘woman like her’ means when Eric pushes into her pussy. Her eyes widen for one blinding second before as her mouth freezes in a curious ‘oh.

Eric grabs a fistful of her dress and slides all the way into her as a cacophony of laughter burst out from outside of the office. Harper wonders if they’re laughing at them, or at her. She wonders how many women he’s pulled into this whole-in-the-wall office and fucked. Maybe she is the first.

He fuckers her like a nail-driver, rocking her body fiercely until Harper is draped over the backrest of the office chair. She feels Eric spread her apart again and tease her asshole with a slick finger. Then, Harper sighs as the pucker of her asshole relaxes and welcomes his finger inside of her.

She lets out a strangled noise, then covers her mouth. “It’s alright,” Eric whispers. “You make all the noise you want.” He fucks her ass and pussy in an alternate rhythm, finger in-cock out, then finger out-cock in. He’s like a machine, slowly warming Harper up as her hand swirls around her clit.

The feeling of her asshole being plundered, even if it’s only by a finger, leaves a perverse glow in her mind. What kind of man eats your asshole until you pussy ached for him? What kind of man fingers your asshole while his cock fills you from wall to wall?

A calm voice spoke up in her mind, holding the tone of someone who speaks with absolute kartal escort finality. “The kind of man you need right now.”

When Harper climaxes, the force of her orgasm nearly topples her over. Eric let go of her dress and held her in place by the neck. He isn’t so much choking her as just holding her steady.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She didn’t answer, at least not with her mouth.

Harper comes again, and this time her body goes wild. Her chest hitches before she calls out in a high breathless voice. Her hands roil with raw energy, and she flails around, knocking over a stack of papers from the desk and her purse.

Eric laughs in surprise and pulls out of her, and Harper squirts a torrent of hot nectar as if he’s uncorked something inside of her. She can feel her thighs losing strength as her orgasm thrashes her body.

She turns to kiss Eric, wanting her mouth on his, but stops when she sees his eyes cast down. She follows his gaze and sees her purse, and its spilled contents. Glinting under the dim lights of the office, Harper sees her wedding band, and suddenly tastes something greasy in the back of her throat.

“What’s that,” Eric asks. “Are you married?”

Eric lets go of her and steps back. Harper doesn’t know what to say. She’s still feeling the aftershock of her climax, and words aren’t coming to her quickly right now.

“W-What do you care if I’m married?” She manages to get out.

She turns to face Eric, and her eyes take in his glossy cock, before looking at him. To her surprise, it isn’t malice or disgust she sees, but dark humor. Eric’s lips twist into a sly grin as he explains, “I don’t care, if you don’t care.”

He pulls Harper to her feet, then with his hands under her arms, lifting her with ease. She lets out a surprised sound before wrapping her legs around Eric. She has time to register the little office smells like them, a scent of reckless fucking and infidelity. It smells sweet to her.

“A married woman who is looking for single men in a bar…” Eric finishes by shaking his head. He turns and takes a couple of steps before pinning her against the back of the office door. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? Single. Married. You just wanted a different pinkie than your husband’s, isn’t that right?”

Harper nods. She doesn’t really care what Eric is saying, just as long as he makes her cum again. She closes her eyes as he pounds into her, and her body thwacks into the door as if Eric is trying to fuck her right through the goddamn thing.

She wants to talk dirty to him, but she’s never been good at it. Instead, she licks his neck, kisses his ear, and whispers, “Yes,” over and over again, until Eric’s whole body grows tense.

She hears him grunt as his cock plunges one final time before Eric finally cums. She feels his warmth gush into her, painting her insides until she is full to burst. It’s more than the poultry amount Harper is used to from her husband. She’s never had so much cum inside of her, and the idea that one man could fill her up so exquisitely pushes Harper over the edge.

She feels the floor drop out from under them as she cums on Eric’s not-so-small pinkie. Her voice rises and fills the little office until she is light-headed, and all at once, Harper feels her entire body slacken.

She feels Eric’s cock pulse one last time inside of her. Then it slides out of her, and Harper feels all of his precious cum warm inside of her.

He’s praising her and cursing under his breath, but he sounds far away from Harper. She swallows and slowly begins to come back to herself when Eric asks her if she can stand. She isn’t sure but nods anyway, and he lets her down slowly, feeling what’s left of his cum trickle down her leg.

Eric steps back and practically falls into the office chair. Harper likes the film of sweat that covers his body. She likes the rapid rise and fall of his chest as if he’s just finished an exercise. She likes how he is just as spent as she is.

Her legs wobble for a moment, and she decides to slide down the door, landing in a puddle of either his cum, or her fluid, or both. She knows her dress is dirty and disheveled and doesn’t care. She thinks she could use a cigarette and a drink. She knows she’ll be sore tomorrow.

Eric wipes his forehead and smiles at her. “God, that was good,” and Harper nods in agreement. “Come back anytime you want a pinkie to play with.”

She smiles and thinks that’s a great idea.

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