Friday nights
- 1 year ago
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Friday Nights For Watching free porn video
So here I am trying to catch the eye of the girl behind the bar, but she seems intent on serving everyone around me. The fiery red hair flowing across her shoulders has a hypnotic effect as she swings round to the cooler cabinet behind her.
As she bends at the knees her short denim skirt rides up a little, stretching across a perfect ass. I look to my left, then my right, to see if anyone else has their mind in the gutter, absolutely they do!
As far as I can tell, everyone at the bar is mesmerized, and to prove she knows what she’s doing she straightens up with a wiggle, looks over her shoulder, and pouts at her audience.
Okay, at 5 foot 6, I’m easily missed, and the floor behind the bar is a good foot higher than the surface I’m standing on, so she does tower somewhat over me. It does grate though, when she looks straight over me as she reaches past to place two beers in front of the guy to my right.
I stretch out onto my toes, to increase my chances of being spotted, so now my eyes become level with her ample breasts. I’m looking at the contours created across her t -shirt, she’s obviously bra-less, and so near to me, virtually touching my face.
I’m completely lost now as I visualize her leaning forward so two cushions envelop my face. Lifting her ‘T’ and discarding it on the bar, the club becomes a distant fog, and now it’s just her and me.
She takes her left breast in her palm and lifts it so her nipple is touching my cheek. She sways side to side brushing it against my lips inviting me to open my mouth and flick my tongue against her.
She rocks her head back as I replace her hand, cupping her breast, sucking on the hardening bud. I draw my teeth over her left nipple as my thumb and forefinger rotate around her right. Her hand slips under her skirt and begins to move slowly. I continue to feast on her, as she pushes her fingers against herself with greater urgency.
Cat like she climbs onto the bar, her eyes fixed on me, threatening me not to stop the attention her breasts are enjoying. Swinging her legs over the beer pumps, her skirt now hitched up at the waist, she sits on the bar and parts her legs. I look down to see her hand furiously massaging, covered by the white lace of her panties.
Her free hand hauls my head down, hard, into her sheltered crotch, and I oblige by pushing my mouth over her as she releases her hand from her pussy. I let go of her breasts and move my hands down, pulling her panties to one side, and lap at her moist labia.
With her hand free she leans back onto the bar as I flick my tongue between her lips, trying not to be too obvious in searching out her clit. It isn’t long before she gasps, holding the back of my head, and pushing me in as far as I can go. Opening her up, I run my teeth over the exposed clit. I pass my tongue up and down her, teasing as much as I dare, and tasting the flow of her arousal.
At first I didn’t notice she was pulling my trousers down to my thighs with her feet, but as I slipped a couple of fingers into her hot, wet, pussy she manoeuvres her feet around my now exposed cock, and begins to delicately rub up and down my hardening shaft with her bare feet.
She is manipulating my cock perfectly, skilfully exposing the glans, and performing the most erotic massage I can imagine.
My fingers and tongue are proving to be enough, as she tries to maintain contact with her feet, and then without warning she tosses her head back and lets out a cry of triumph as her orgasm takes hold. Her thighs draw in and clamp me in position, so like any other guy would I hold on as her pussy fastens onto my fingers and floods my tongue. She thrusts her groin at me over and over, until she gives out a purr of total contentment.
In a matter of moments she’s on the other side of the bar, and the daydream is over, as a barman recognizes the Twenty I have been waving around and comes up to me. I laugh to myself, even in my fantasies I can’t get off!
‘Yes mate?” He shouts across the heavy beat of the music filling the club.
I’m about to ask for the two obligatory beers when I spot Lenny sitting with a woman, to his right, having what looks to all the world like a conversation. Unlikely I think, but changing my mind on the choice of drink reply, ‘Three Bacardi Breezers, two orange and one strawberry, thanks.’
Lenny and I met in school, age five, and grew up together. Living a matter of minutes away we continued to keep in touch even when we attended different secondary schools and colleges.
Lennie isn’t the brightest, and could have been easily been the subject of bullying but for his size, he is simply enormous, in every way. At 6 foot 10, 210 pounds, and most of that’s muscle, he cuts a fine figure.
Laboring on a couple of farms helps to keep him trim that’s for sure, he’ll put in a ten hour day, and can out-pull a tractor. The guy must have his own gravity field the way the girls, and some of guys, flock to him. It’s just his awkwardness, shyness, call it what you like, that prevents him having more excitement, he’s simply not that good with people.
That’s where I come in. Lennie is my best friend and I look out for him, and more often than not I have to talk for him too. Oh, he can be annoying, but I guess I can be too. I’m short, that’s fair to say, but at 130 pounds I compare favorably next to most other guys in our early 30s , but when Lennie is next to me I look pretty pathetic. Don’t get me wrong, most men do, it’s just that being best mates were always out together and being compared.
Holding a bottle in my left hand and the other two in my right the slalom begins, weaving in and out of the crowd. It’s a busy Friday night and it feels like the whole city is in this one place. I’m not complaining, as I brush past a girl wearing little more than a bikini. My mind begins to wander, but for once I keep it at bay as I reach the table.
It’s obvious now, that despite the couple being on the same cushioned bench seating, Lennie and the girl have not been talking. No surprise there, I think to myself. Although there’s two hard chairs around the table there doesn’t seem to be another empty chair in the whole club.
Her hair is shoulder length, brown, maybe highlighted, but I can’t make out her dress very well because of the light. I can tell it’s a shade of electric blue, tight, with a round neck plunged tightly across her breasts, only just covering both her areola. My mind starts making the calculations that all men do, late 20s , 36 C ?
Lauryn
- 27.03.2022
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