Chapter 6
Tony was sitting at the bar, waiting for Belinda and wondering what was taking her so long-for he had no idea that used-car salesmen had a code of ethics and privileged information like lawyers and doctors and had to be persuaded. But he knew Belinda, so he was a bit suspicious. He kept looking at his watch. He also kept glancing at a lewd woman who was playing the jukebox and dancing solo. It was a pretty sordid sort of bar and she seemed a fairly sordid sort of woman, not really the type that interested him. But she was pretty enough to draw his attention as she danced. She had huge tits that seemed to virtually leap out from her torso like cannon shells bursting from a double-barreled artillery piece. Her wide, pneumatic hips shot about as if they were disjointed. Her face was attractive, in a sensual fashion, with plenty of bright red lipstick and dark eye makeup. Her heavy mane of auburn hair fell in disarray as she jerked and spun and swirled to the beat of the music. She was quite obviously drunk and, from time to time, she lost her balance. But she wasn't a half-bad dancer, for all that. She wore a very tight sweater and designer jeans that fit so snugly that they might have been plastered onto her loins and haunches, the denim drawn up in a vee at her crotch and jutting out prominently over her protruding mount of Venus. She smiled at Tony.
She turned her back to him, thrust her rear end out and wiggled the cheeks of her ass in his direction, looking back over her shoulder at him and giving him a suggestive wink.
Tony sipped his beer, regarding her speculatively over the rim of his glass.
The bartender, a large fellow with plenty of tattoos, said, "That's Ellie. She bothering you? If she's offending you, I'll kick her out, if you like."
"Why, not at all."
"Oh. I thought maybe you was a snob or something. On account of you poured your beer into a glass instead of drinking out of the bottle, the way a real man does."
"Oh," said Tony.
He hadn't known that about real men.
The barman said, "Don't get me wrong. I like to have guys like you come in. You know, wearing a suit and tie and all. Guys like you give the joint a touch of class."
"Errr ... thank you."
"I knew you was a gentleman, soon as you walked in. I'll bet you ain't got a single tattoo."
"Why, no, as it happens."
"Long as you ain't gay. I don't serve no queers in here, gentlemen or not."
"Quite right," Tony agreed.
Ellie danced closer, wriggling and gyrating. Her hips were moving just as if she had a cock stuck up her cunt, a very erotic sort of dance.
"Ellie's a tramp," the bartender said.
"Yes, I can see that," Tony said.
"I don't object to serving tramps, though. They ain't like queers."
"Perhaps I should buy Ellie a drink."
"Yeah, that's a good idea," the bartender concurred, his suspicions about Tony's manliness allayed.
He poured out a whisky. Ellie took it en pas sant, dancing along the bar and sipping at the drink as she pranced about. She held the glass in her left hand, Tony noticed particularly, because the lusty woman had her right hand cupped over her crotch. In fact, he realized, she was giving herself a handjob, squeezing her fat quim and rubbing along the tight crotch of her jeans in tempo with the music. He observed this with interest, speculating on whether she would actually bring herself off on the dance floor and, if so, whether she would break stride when she climaxed.
She finished the drink and, gliding up to the bar, put the empty glass down.
He hesitated for a moment. But he sensed that the bartender was looking at him and figured that refusing to dance with the woman might be taken as a sign of queerdom. And those tattooed arms of the bartender's were mighty ones, well-suited to throwing deviates out of the place.
He decided he had better dance.
He took Ellie's hand and she led him away from the bar, then swirled, turning into his arms. A slow song was playing. She began to grind against him in the most sensual fashion, her belly molding against his and her meaty thighs pressing into his groin. She put both arms around his neck, looking into his eyes. Tony put his arms around her and cupped her taut, mobile ass, drawing her loins to his.
The bartender looked on with approval.
Tony began to get a hard-on.
He didn't want to, figuring it would be impossible to do anything with it and that it would only prove frustrating. But his cock had a mind and a will of its own and, massaged by that soft belly and those arching thighs, it swelled and hardened and carved its outline into her pelvis.
Her eyes widened.
Her red lips smiled lasciviously.
She maneuvered him toward the jukebox, which was at the back of the room, bubbling merrily away in the shadows. They continued to grind and pump, dry-humping together; she leaned in and placed her lips against his ear.
"You got a hard-on," she giggled.
"I realize that."
"A nice big one, too."
Her belly flowed over it, soft flesh rolling over the iron-hard pole.
She began to fumble with his belt.
Tony was aghast. He was afraid his pants would fall down, leaving him bare-assed in public. But the wily trollop merely loosened his belt a couple of notches, then buckled it up again so that, although the pants were slack around the waist now, they were in no danger of falling.
Then she unzipped his fly.
"I don't think...." he mumbled.
"Shh," she said. "No one will know."
The barman looked on, knowingly.
Ellie slipped her hand inside Tony's pants.
"Don't take it out, for crissake!" he squealed.
"Listen," she said. "Jack ... that's the bartender ... Jack will think you're gay if you don't let me take your dick out. You know what Jack does to gay guys? It ain't that I want to take your prick out or anything ... I'm only doing it for your own damn good, mister, that's all."
"Oh, I see," Tony muttered.
She had her hand wrapped around his cock and was pulling at it, trying to get it out. The big stalk had stuck inside his pants, and she was fumbling with it.
"But what does he do to guys who have their dicks out in the bar?" he asked.
"Oh, he don't mind that; he's used to it."
How could Tony argue with that.
Ellie hauled his pecker out with a triumphant squeal. The big knob and stout staff sprung up between them and the wanton dancing girl pressed her belly against it. She was not very tall, and his cock was long; with his balls jammed against her denim-clad vulva, the head rose up so high that it was brushing against the underside of her tits. Her belly rolled over it, her hips twisting sensually. They turned through a graceful circle, pivoting around his pecker like children dancing around a maypole.
Ellie pulled her sweater up.
She wore no brassiere and her naked knockers began to flow against him, nipples stiff and elongated. Tony shot a nervous glance over his shoulder.
Jack looked on with a smile and, seeing that he had Tony's attention, nodded approvingly.
What the hell, thought Tony. If he don't care....
He drew his hands from around her ass and cupped her big tits, pushing them together into deep cleavage and sweeping his thumbs across the hot, taut nipples.
Ellie sighed with pleasure.
She dipped her knees slightly, squirming, and his huge honker slid into her soft, warm cleavage.
"Move," she whispered. "Fuck my tits ... I love that...."
Tony glanced at Jack again.
Jack was moving, too.
He seemed to be mixing a drink in a cocktail shaker, for his hand was going up and down frantically, and it struck Tony as odd that he would be mixing a martini in a low-class place like this, especially since there were no other customers who might have ordered it.
Jack did, in fact, have a cocktail shaker in his hand.
But he was holding it upside down and what he was shaking inside it was his fat prick. Although professing to hate deviates of all sorts, Jack did not think that voyeurism was a perversion, and there was nothing he enjoyed more than jacking-off while he watched Ellie take some dick between her jugs.
He smiled at the dancers and his big, tattooed arm pumped vigorously up and down.
Tony began to hump against Ellie.
She dipped her knees as he thrust upward, then rose up as he drew back so they were gliding together in counterpoint, long stroking. She had dragged his nuts out along with his prick, and that cum-filled sac was rubbing against her lower belly while his enormous dick rubbed into her cleavage. The knob came down to her diaphragm on the downstroke, then pushed up so far that the purple tip came squeezing out of the top of her cleavage and nuzzled into her throat.
She gurgled merrily, delighted at having such a splendid schlong between her knockers.
The music ended.
Tony faltered, embarrassed at dancing without music, but then another, faster selection began to blare out of the jukebox and, fitting his actions to the beat, he began to hump her tits with rhythmic haste.
Ellie tipped her face down, resting her chin against her breastbone. Her pink tongue slid out. As the smoking head of his prick came squeezing out of the top of her deep mammary canyon, her licker fluttered against the tip.
"Come," she whimpered.
She had one thigh between his legs, the other pressed to his outer thigh, and she was working herself off that way, grinding her gash against his leg. He could feel the damp musk-scented heat of her crotch coming through both the demin of her jeans and the tweed of his trousers.
His cockhead began to bubble.
As he stroked up, the flowing knob laid a glistening track up her stomach and emerged from her cleavage with a coating of frothy spunk. Ellie happily lapped that froth up with her tongue, washing the front end of his prick so that it glistened with saliva as it slid back into her tit .crease, then came out with a new load of jizz seeping from the gaping cleft.
"Yummy," she sighed, letting the trickle of hot stuff run down her gullet.
Her hips began to jerk spasmodically as she creamed against his lean thigh.
Tony growled.
His cock came out from her cleavage and, just as it appeared from the soft white mounds, the head spurted a geyser of thick gism right up into her face.
Her lips parted and her tongue folded down.
His warm spunk skimmed over her lapper and shot right into her open mouth. She gulped it down as he pulled his probe back into her cleavage, then opened her mouth again as he plunged up and hosed her with another spurt.
Tony blew four or five geysers over her facial features and she worked her crotch against his leg and ground her own orgasm out to the finish.
Then she bent lower, took the head of his dick into her oral chasm and sucked it clean.
"Now that " she said with a happy smile, "is what I call dancing...."
Jack had been keeping pace with the dancers, and when he saw Tony's cum spurt into Ellie's eager face, his own dong went off explosively.
He filled his cocktail shaker with spent semen.
Sweating and weak-kneed, he leaned on the bar and, gracious host that he was, announced, "The drinks are on the house, folks...."
Tony and Ellie were seated at the bar when Belinda came in.
"What took you so long?" Tony inquired.
"Oh, I had to look through a lot of records."
"You find the car?"
"I found out who bought it," she said as she moved up to the bar and took the stool next to Tony. Ellie leaned out, big tits thrusting over the counter, to look at Belinda. Belinda noticed that the woman's lips were streaked with some sort of white stuff and that her lipstick was smeared.
Tony looked extremely innocent.
He said, "We got to go now, huh?"
"I wouldn't mind a drink first," Belinda said.
"It's on the house," Jack smiled. He was looking at Belinda with interest. "I don't suppose you dance?"
"Well ... sure. But not now."
He shrugged. That's a shame, he thought.
"What's your pleasure?"
"I'll have a martini," she said.
Jack had never sold a martini before, but he had read the bartenders' guide and he knew how to make one. He forgot that he had already used the cocktail shaker.
He poured in gin and vermouth and shook it.
He poured a glass for Belinda. She took a sip and frowned. She took a second, larger sip, swirling it around in her mouth, tasting it. Then she grinned. "This isn't a martini," she claimed. "Sure it is," Jack protested.
"Nope. It's a cum cocktail," said the oversexed blonde, and she drained it down.
"Delicious, too," she praised.
Jack could see that this was a girl who would do herself justice on the dance floor....