The Neighborhood Chapter Eight The Bar Crawl
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The Neighborhood Chapter Eight: The Bar Crawl free porn video
After the flavored condom adventure, Veronica treated Josh out to drinks at her various customers for three nights running. The first night was at a Greek restaurant that served all sorts of Greek food and specialized in ouzo.
Lydia and Clarissa (oops, I almost said Crystal) were visiting when they got home. Veronica said that the food was excellent and recommended we all go there for dinner one night. She’d try to get us a group discount from the owner.
Josh raved about the food. “I had hummus and souvlaki and Veronica had a gyro. We shared a side of Mouse Caca.” I thought that might be Moussaka, but decided to let it slide. Who knows, maybe they actually did serve rodent turds.
Josh continued, “That ouzo, though, has to be an acquired taste. I tried some, but decided a single shot was plenty."
“One thing I didn’t understand.” Josh looked puzzled. “They had a sign over the bar that said 'Don’t Drink Ouzo With a Greek Sailor Unless You Want to Wake Up the Next Day with a Sore Asshole.' What’s that all about?”
Lydia recovered first, although not without spitting her beer all over the carpet. She had to help her lover up off the floor. When they were both standing they starting laughing uncontrollably again. Lydia pointed at Josh and pantomimed all sorts of obscene activity. Then the two women fell on the floor laughing once more.
They were still giggling when they left. I explained the joke to Josh later. He squirmed in his chair, then crossed his legs and said, “Oooooooooooooooh. Nooooooooooooh.”
The following night was a wine bar. Veronica had been very embarrassed when she ordered a glass of garlic wine. It seems it’s only used for cooking. The owner said she must have meant Gilad, a dry Israeli wine. Sure she did.
Josh had ice water. “The place didn’t have any fuckin’ Bud Light!” he complained.
The last night of the week they went to a place called “Moby Dick.” Veronica had decided not to tell Josh about the details until after they arrived.
“The owner, Micky, is just the sweetest man. And the bartenders are all hot. Barb, you’d love the shot boys. They work out every day. Looking at them in their jock straps made my pussy wet. Not that anything was going to come of it, of course.” Veronica really liked this customer.
"Josh had not been so sure, but he had been grinning when he came in. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the details. I didn’t want to have my roommate waiting for me to drop the soap."
"When I walked in I was looking for the hot babes. There were none. There weren’t any luke-warm babes or even ice-cold ones. Sure, there was a six-foot-six woman with a deep voice and a size-99 Adam’s apple, but I don’t think she qualifies."
"I figured it out pretty quickly. This was a gay bar. The give-away wasn’t the shot boys in jock straps or the bartenders in briefs. It wasn’t even the two shirtless guys in the booth next to us who made out non-stop for an hour."
"The giveaway was the line drawings on the wall. Dick-sucking, ass-fucking and one of a guy with his arm buried in a guy’s rectum all the way to the elbow. I think I can rule out proctologist.”
“So, why did you stay?” Randy was puzzled.
“Well,” said Josh, “By the time I had it figured out I already had a pitcher of Bud Light. Can’t let that shit go to waste.” You know, to a guy like me who four months ago was getting food money at a blood bank, this actually made some sense.
Josh and Veronica were agreed that we should all go there together at least once. Paul and Randy were giving Josh the same suspicious looks I was. Barb was clapping her hands. I knew that Sonja’s only question would be whether she could flash. And Lucy, well, Lucy would undoubtedly look on it as an opportunity to learn. About what, I couldn’t say, but never underestimate Lucy’s ability to make the best out of a bizarre situation.
“Anyway,” continued Josh, “After I had it figured out I was kind of worried that guys would start hitting on me. After an hour I was actually kind of insulted that nobody had tried. I asked Veronica. She said that if I worked out some maybe that would change. Oh, and some plastic surgery might help. And I should try wearing clothes with labels that didn’t read Abercrombie and Dork.”
“Anyway, they announced an amateur strip contest. Not sure why they bothered. I was the only guy in the joint without a bare chest, it being stylishly covered with my Abercrombie and Dork T-shirt. Counting bartenders in briefs and shot boys in jock straps, I quickly calculated that there was an average of 0.375 pairs of pants per guy in the place.” Josh was real good in math, it had been his major.
“Veronica told me to enter,” Josh added. “Obviously, it was a hopeless cause. She talked to the owner, who grinned. I was entered whether I wanted to or not.
“I won. Seriously. No working out, no plastic surgery and kept the wardrobe by Abercrombie and Dork.” Josh was quite pleased with himself.
“The owner announced me as ‘Josh, the straight fuckable ass with the fish over there.’ Nobody else stood a chance.” Josh was laughing. “Not only did I win the $100 prize, but I pulled $93 and eight guys’ phone numbers out of my boxer briefs when I finished. When I stopped for cigarettes and took off my pants I found two more guys’ phone numbers and a $50 check in my underwear.”
Veronica said that Josh had actually enjoyed himself after he loosened up. He had been groped, sure, while he was stripping, but he just closed his eyes and thought about fish. One guy’s hands had wound up too far in his underwear. The owner threw the guy out. When he finished his routine Veronica had joined him on the tiny stage. She grabbed his dick and balls through his underwear and turned to address the panting guys.
“This is all mine, motherfuckers, and if you want to keep your testicles you’ll keep your hands to yourselves.”
Somebody shouted out, “Okay, no hands, but what about mouths?” Veronica had stopped to consider this. She took too long.
“Veronica, for God’s sake, answer!” Josh had begged.
Finally his girlfriend spoke. “Okay, maybe a mouth, but only under careful supervision by me, and only after a thorough demonstration, again by me, of the proper care and feeding of the Josh Johnson.”
Josh laughed and grabbed a beer from our refrigerator. On his way out he said to Veronica, “Always joking.” On his way back in he tried again. “That was a joke, right?”
Veronica told him she was thinking about it. “Josh met a guy named Drake. They discovered they had both played lacrosse in college and talked about sticks and back doors for an hour. Without a single double-entendre.
“Drake invited Josh to join his local lacrosse club,” Valerie said.
She looked Josh straight in the eye: “And if your stick gets too friendly with his back door I’m buying a whole year’s worth of banana flavored condoms.”
Sonja, to me: I thought you said they didn’t make banana flavored condoms.
Me, to Sonja: Hush.
None of the guys ever went back to Moby Dick, but it became a favorite spot for the girls’ nights out. Their first night, Sonja gave a demonstration of how to have fun with salt, lime juice, tequila, and a jockstrap-clad shot boy’s naked ass. The other girls tried it and said they weren't very talented. They had to keep practicing it over and over to get it just right.
Veronica eventually talked Micky into having an Aquarium Night for the fish. Same bartenders in briefs, same shot boys in jockstraps and same shirtless guys making out. The shot boys’ tips were out of this world, and a little lime juice never hurt anybody. The bartenders complained, so Lucy brought in a bunch of towels for them to wear. Not over, but to replace, their underwear. Lucy, of course, had a plan.
If a girl tipped a bartender $20 she could put a towel around his middle and then remove his underwear. After that, for a $5 charge, he’d stir her drink or any other girl’s. According to Sonja, some of them had pretty impressive swizzle sticks. Two of the bartenders opened healthy retirement accounts.
One night Micky caught Sonja cleaning off a guy’s swizzle stick with her tongue. He threatened to throw her out of the bar if she didn’t stop that within ten minutes. The next time they visited, Lucy brought a stopwatch.
Lydia and Clarissa (oops, I almost said Crystal) were visiting when they got home. Veronica said that the food was excellent and recommended we all go there for dinner one night. She’d try to get us a group discount from the owner.
Josh raved about the food. “I had hummus and souvlaki and Veronica had a gyro. We shared a side of Mouse Caca.” I thought that might be Moussaka, but decided to let it slide. Who knows, maybe they actually did serve rodent turds.
Josh continued, “That ouzo, though, has to be an acquired taste. I tried some, but decided a single shot was plenty."
“One thing I didn’t understand.” Josh looked puzzled. “They had a sign over the bar that said 'Don’t Drink Ouzo With a Greek Sailor Unless You Want to Wake Up the Next Day with a Sore Asshole.' What’s that all about?”
Lydia recovered first, although not without spitting her beer all over the carpet. She had to help her lover up off the floor. When they were both standing they starting laughing uncontrollably again. Lydia pointed at Josh and pantomimed all sorts of obscene activity. Then the two women fell on the floor laughing once more.
They were still giggling when they left. I explained the joke to Josh later. He squirmed in his chair, then crossed his legs and said, “Oooooooooooooooh. Nooooooooooooh.”
The following night was a wine bar. Veronica had been very embarrassed when she ordered a glass of garlic wine. It seems it’s only used for cooking. The owner said she must have meant Gilad, a dry Israeli wine. Sure she did.
Josh had ice water. “The place didn’t have any fuckin’ Bud Light!” he complained.
The last night of the week they went to a place called “Moby Dick.” Veronica had decided not to tell Josh about the details until after they arrived.
“The owner, Micky, is just the sweetest man. And the bartenders are all hot. Barb, you’d love the shot boys. They work out every day. Looking at them in their jock straps made my pussy wet. Not that anything was going to come of it, of course.” Veronica really liked this customer.
"Josh had not been so sure, but he had been grinning when he came in. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the details. I didn’t want to have my roommate waiting for me to drop the soap."
"When I walked in I was looking for the hot babes. There were none. There weren’t any luke-warm babes or even ice-cold ones. Sure, there was a six-foot-six woman with a deep voice and a size-99 Adam’s apple, but I don’t think she qualifies."
"I figured it out pretty quickly. This was a gay bar. The give-away wasn’t the shot boys in jock straps or the bartenders in briefs. It wasn’t even the two shirtless guys in the booth next to us who made out non-stop for an hour."
"The giveaway was the line drawings on the wall. Dick-sucking, ass-fucking and one of a guy with his arm buried in a guy’s rectum all the way to the elbow. I think I can rule out proctologist.”
“So, why did you stay?” Randy was puzzled.
“Well,” said Josh, “By the time I had it figured out I already had a pitcher of Bud Light. Can’t let that shit go to waste.” You know, to a guy like me who four months ago was getting food money at a blood bank, this actually made some sense.
Josh and Veronica were agreed that we should all go there together at least once. Paul and Randy were giving Josh the same suspicious looks I was. Barb was clapping her hands. I knew that Sonja’s only question would be whether she could flash. And Lucy, well, Lucy would undoubtedly look on it as an opportunity to learn. About what, I couldn’t say, but never underestimate Lucy’s ability to make the best out of a bizarre situation.
“Anyway,” continued Josh, “After I had it figured out I was kind of worried that guys would start hitting on me. After an hour I was actually kind of insulted that nobody had tried. I asked Veronica. She said that if I worked out some maybe that would change. Oh, and some plastic surgery might help. And I should try wearing clothes with labels that didn’t read Abercrombie and Dork.”
“Anyway, they announced an amateur strip contest. Not sure why they bothered. I was the only guy in the joint without a bare chest, it being stylishly covered with my Abercrombie and Dork T-shirt. Counting bartenders in briefs and shot boys in jock straps, I quickly calculated that there was an average of 0.375 pairs of pants per guy in the place.” Josh was real good in math, it had been his major.
“Veronica told me to enter,” Josh added. “Obviously, it was a hopeless cause. She talked to the owner, who grinned. I was entered whether I wanted to or not.
“I won. Seriously. No working out, no plastic surgery and kept the wardrobe by Abercrombie and Dork.” Josh was quite pleased with himself.
“The owner announced me as ‘Josh, the straight fuckable ass with the fish over there.’ Nobody else stood a chance.” Josh was laughing. “Not only did I win the $100 prize, but I pulled $93 and eight guys’ phone numbers out of my boxer briefs when I finished. When I stopped for cigarettes and took off my pants I found two more guys’ phone numbers and a $50 check in my underwear.”
Veronica said that Josh had actually enjoyed himself after he loosened up. He had been groped, sure, while he was stripping, but he just closed his eyes and thought about fish. One guy’s hands had wound up too far in his underwear. The owner threw the guy out. When he finished his routine Veronica had joined him on the tiny stage. She grabbed his dick and balls through his underwear and turned to address the panting guys.
“This is all mine, motherfuckers, and if you want to keep your testicles you’ll keep your hands to yourselves.”
Somebody shouted out, “Okay, no hands, but what about mouths?” Veronica had stopped to consider this. She took too long.
“Veronica, for God’s sake, answer!” Josh had begged.
Finally his girlfriend spoke. “Okay, maybe a mouth, but only under careful supervision by me, and only after a thorough demonstration, again by me, of the proper care and feeding of the Josh Johnson.”
Josh laughed and grabbed a beer from our refrigerator. On his way out he said to Veronica, “Always joking.” On his way back in he tried again. “That was a joke, right?”
Veronica told him she was thinking about it. “Josh met a guy named Drake. They discovered they had both played lacrosse in college and talked about sticks and back doors for an hour. Without a single double-entendre.
“Drake invited Josh to join his local lacrosse club,” Valerie said.
She looked Josh straight in the eye: “And if your stick gets too friendly with his back door I’m buying a whole year’s worth of banana flavored condoms.”
Sonja, to me: I thought you said they didn’t make banana flavored condoms.
Me, to Sonja: Hush.
None of the guys ever went back to Moby Dick, but it became a favorite spot for the girls’ nights out. Their first night, Sonja gave a demonstration of how to have fun with salt, lime juice, tequila, and a jockstrap-clad shot boy’s naked ass. The other girls tried it and said they weren't very talented. They had to keep practicing it over and over to get it just right.
Veronica eventually talked Micky into having an Aquarium Night for the fish. Same bartenders in briefs, same shot boys in jockstraps and same shirtless guys making out. The shot boys’ tips were out of this world, and a little lime juice never hurt anybody. The bartenders complained, so Lucy brought in a bunch of towels for them to wear. Not over, but to replace, their underwear. Lucy, of course, had a plan.
If a girl tipped a bartender $20 she could put a towel around his middle and then remove his underwear. After that, for a $5 charge, he’d stir her drink or any other girl’s. According to Sonja, some of them had pretty impressive swizzle sticks. Two of the bartenders opened healthy retirement accounts.
One night Micky caught Sonja cleaning off a guy’s swizzle stick with her tongue. He threatened to throw her out of the bar if she didn’t stop that within ten minutes. The next time they visited, Lucy brought a stopwatch.
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