I just wanted a fucking cold brew after a hard day at work. Promptly at 5, I clocked out, hopped on my Sportster, and headed for a local dive, the Mile High Bar, named for Denver, the Mile High City. The place was a grimy piece of shit, but is had cheap beer during happy hour. There was no parking available along the street, so I pulled around back and parked in the alley.
The bar is dimly lit, and it always takes some time for my eyes to adjust, especially when I use the rear entrance. Weaving my way past the mostly empty booths in the back, I made my way to the bar. There were three of four other people sitting at the bar, and I selected a stool by myself. Molly was the bartender. She always worked Thursdays. I ordered a draft beer, nothing fancy, just a domestic pilsner.
The first beer went down quickly, and I ordered a second. Before Molly could draw the beer, a woman sat down next to me. I tried not to look at her. I wasn’t really in the mood for company. She ordered s scotch and soda with a husky voice, then brushed my leg with hers. I looked down and noticed she was wearing a very short skirt. She was at the bar to pick someone up.
My second beer was delivered, and I stared straight ahead as I drank it. The woman spoke, apparently to me.
“If you do it in the bathroom of the Mile High Bar, does that mean you’ve joined the Mile High Club?”
I’ve heard a lot of dull pick-up lines, but this one was clever enough that the woman broke my trance, and I turned to look at her. She was tall, blond, and had huge knockers that were struggling to bust out of her low-cut blouse. She smiled.
“I’m Stacey, your local bar fly.”
She was being sarcastic. She was wearing expensive clothes, smelled of expensive perfume, and must spend a fortune at the spa. She was clearly slumming. I shot back a snappy reply.
“I’m Jake.”
Stacey turned towards me, leaned in, and pressed the sexual inuendo.
“They used to call women like me ‘forward.’ Today they’d call me dominant. Do strong women frighten you, Jake?”
I have a muscle-leather-biker look, anything but submissive. What made this woman think she could pick me up by coming on strong? I pushed back.
“I have the dick in my relationships, Stacey. And it’s a big one.”
Stacey chortled and upped her ante.
“I prefer tongue to cock. Do you have a talented tongue too, Jake?”
This woman was challenging my manhood. It was a turn-off, but I’d certainly fuck her.
“I’m not much of a muff diver, Sugar. How are you at sucking cock?”
Stacey was negotiating.
“We seem to want something very different. You want me to put your penis in my mouth and I want you to service my pussy. Are you a gambling man, Jake? Flip for it?”
Stacey placed a quarter in the bar and smiled. I reflected on my last blowjob, more than two weeks ago. A biker chick invited me into her place after a date and I talked her into a “goodnight kiss” using my cock. I figured even if I lost the coin toss and had to go down on her, I’d be able to come back strong and fuck her afterwards.
“Sure, flip it.”
Stacey picked up the coin and asked me to call it.
“I call tails. I’m thinking after you suck my cock, I might just stick it in your ass.”
She flipped the coin in the air, letting it fall to the floor. It was too dark to make out which side was showing, so I broke out my phone to see.
“Heads. You go pick out a stall and I’ll join you in a minute. Oh, use the lady’s room, Jake.”
Fuck. I really didn’t want to go down on the bitch, but a bet was a bet. I finished my beer and went to the back of the bar. I knocked on the women’s restroom, didn’t get an answer, went inside, and stepped inside the middle of three stalls. A few minutes later I hear the door open. Stacey stepped into the stall with me, lifted her skirt, pulled down her nylons, and leaned against the wall of the stall.
“Get to it big boy.”
Her pussy was wet and smelly, like she’d been working all day, probably in some office. I started licking her and a few minutes later she grabbed the back of my head and started grinding her pussy into my face. She wasn’t so much using my tongue but my whole face, and especially my nose, to pleasure herself. I could tell she was about to orgasm when her legs started quivering. A moment later she began to squeal, and urine sprayed on my face. On my knees in the confines of the stall, I couldn’t get away as she pissed on my face. Still gripping the back of my head, she forced her urethra in my mouth.
Soiled and embarrassed by what had just happened, I remained on my knees while Stacey pulled her panties up and adjusted her dress before opening the stall door and stepping over me. A moment later, I heard the bathroom door open, but instead of Stacey leaving, another woman entered the bathroom.
I hid in the stall, hoping to make my escape after the woman left. But, the stall door opened. The two women stood over me as I remained on my knees, my face and shirt covered in piss.
“I’ve warmed him up for you, Darling. He’s a pretty good carpet muncher.”
I stood up and quickly made my escape, stopping by the bar to pay my tab. Molly the bartender smiled as I fumbled with my wallet as if she was in on the joke. It was the last time I went to the Mile High Bar.