It was barely past five o'clock. Bill Jenkins sat at the bar sipping his drink. His second. The ironic part about this was, Bill wasn't a drinker, until now anyway as he sat there thinking about it. "When was the last time I was even in a bar?" he wondered asking himself. And he probably wouldn't be here now if it weren't for the fact he'd gotten tired at staring at the walls in his office. Three days of doing that, saying you were working late when you really weren't, staring out the window, reading magazines, pacing about the darkened halls after everyone else had left. Three days ... now four ... of bullshit. So here he was, drinking. Ordering his third Johnny Walker Black. Already he could feel it, time to slow down or he'd never make it home.
Home. He thought about that. Home. Home where is wife would be waiting for him. Home. A place he once thought of as sanctuary, a place where he and his wife Mandy shared a life together. He still loved her. He knew that. And he felt like she still loved him too. But lately, especially lately, all they did was fight. Fight about stupid things, things that years ago wouldn't have upset either one of them. Now ... everything did. Especially the stupid things. Like their fight this morning just before he left for work. It was garbage day. It was his job to take out the garbage, which he did. But he'd tipped over the kitchen garbage just prior to taking it out. He'd dumped some coffee grounds on the floor, scooped up what he could, and then carried it out to the trash, and from there the trash to the curb. By the time he'd come back inside the house to grab a cup of coffee and head out, Mandy was waiting for him. If looks could kill.
"I'm not your maid," she'd said handing him the dustpan and the small broom. "Clean it up."
"I'm going to be late, you clean it," he spat back a little more authoritatively than he should have. He was irritated, it wasn't that big a deal. He'd taken the trash out just like he always did, a little spillage that would have taken two seconds to sweep up wasn't worth fighting about, yet ... here they were doing just that. He could have done it. Perhaps should have. The same two seconds it would have taken her to do it, he could have done it in as well. But he was already rationalizing in his head, "If it hadn't been spilled coffee grounds, it would have been something else."
"Home," he thought once again as the bar tender brought him his drink.
Mandy was fuming by the time Bill left. "Fucking coffee grounds!" she said to herself, taking the two seconds it would have taken her husband to clean up his mess. She dumped them into the fresh sack that Bill had actually put on the garbage can for her, just like he always did. She could have said thank you, perhaps should have, but his demeanor when he told her to do it herself had set her off. It was downhill after that, just like everything else seemed to be doing for the past three months now. Three months where the two of them hadn't even been intimate, the first two weeks of that where Bill had slept on the couch. He'd eventually moved back into the bedroom, but they might as well have put up a brick wall in their bed for all the good that did. Though that was partially her fault as well. Mandy usually slept naked, a subtle hint when she did that if he was interested ... but he'd shown no interest. He was still pissed, still belligerent. Well, she sure as hell showed him hadn't she? She'd worn pajamas, or if not pajamas, something anyway, and nothing ... nothing even remotely sexy or alluring. That was her signal. "Not tonight, don't touch me ... don't bother me." He hadn't. Not for three month's now. "That's ok ... fuck him," she thought. "If that's the way he wants it."
She was already running a little behind, no big deal really, she was after all the head of her own department. She had an important meeting this morning with a new client, someone that could make her a nice fat bonus if they landed the account. She looked at what she'd chosen to wear, typical, non-attractive business attire. "Fuck that," she said once again. She flipped through her wardrobe looking for something else. "Not too obvious," she said discarding the low-cut white frilly blouse, one of her favorites, but definitely not for work. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even worn it out. She could only remember once when she had, she and Bill had gone out to a nice place for dinner, celebrating her new promotion. They'd had a fabulous evening, best food ever. Afterwards, they'd gone out to the parking lot to go home, Bill had stood at her door, opening it for her. She had started to get in, he'd grabbed her, kissing her passionately. It was crazy, it was wild ... and it was perfect. She'd felt his lips on her neck, kissing her bare flesh, working their way down. Standing there in the open door of her brand new Mercedes. She'd felt the grope of his hand on her breast, teasing and toying with her nipple through the shear material. She glanced about the parking lot, not worried about someone seeing them, realizing what they were doing, but actually hoping someone would. She was hot, the thought of being seen, even if all they were doing was a little groping, passionate kissing, just the thought..."
She pulled out the black short skirt, still professional looking even if it was a tiny bit shorter than it should have been perhaps. The white semi-sheer blouse, though the double layer of material in front would only give hint at her very lacy, very sexy bra. Besides, the matching jacket would hide most of that anyway, unless of course she took it off. Which she might do ... over lunch."
Bill was in no rush to get home. His wife wouldn't be there anyway, not for several hours yet. She had told him over a week ago she'd be working late tonight, just as he supposedly was. "Maybe she is ... maybe she isn't," he thought, and then felt the need to pee, leaving his drink on the counter, ordering a forth before going back to use the restroom. He'd stood in front of the mirror washing his hands. At forty-four he was still reasonably attractive. A full head of hair, just a hint of grey starting to show at the temples, not too much ... just enough to give him a look of maturity, experience, style. His deep blue eyes were his best feature, next to his dark thick hair, at least that's the way he saw it. Though several women had commented on his eyes in the past too. He worked out, twice a week. And though his body would never again be the way it once was, he was still proud of the way he looked and had gotten more than one appreciative look from the girls at the office. Young girls in fact, girls he now found himself fantasizing about, thinking about, to the point he'd done the unthinkable, closing his door, and then sitting there masturbating while thinking about their smiles and what they could lead to. Well ... in his mind anyway. "And why am I doing this?" He'd asked himself after spilling his seed into his back pocket handkerchief, tossing it into the trashcan beneath his desk like he'd done and been doing now almost every day for a solid week. "Because Mandy wore pajama's to bed, that's why!" He told himself. She wasn't interested in him anymore and was making it pretty damn obvious. "Well, fuck her then!" he told himself. "If that's the way she wants it!"
Bill came out of the restroom heading back to the bar, to his seat. He stopped dead in his tracks almost tripping over himself. There was a very attractive woman who had taken the stool next to where he'd been sitting, the bartender just then placing her drink, "A long Island Iced tea by the looks of it," he thought to himself. "Pretty stiff drink," he considered, though he was in fact feeling the effects of the three he'd had himself. He sauntered over back towards the bar wondering as he did if he should scoot over another seat, give her some distance between them. His fresh drink sat waiting for him. He realized then, she could have picked another seat herself, farther away if she'd wanted to. It wasn't that crowded yet, well ... not at the bar anyway, though most of the booths were now being taken up. Still...
Bill sat down, caught her smile. He smiled back feeling a little foolish, nodding his head. Neither one spoke. He glanced over towards her appreciatively once more, taking a sip of his scotch, using the subterfuge in doing so to get a better look at her. She was thirtyish perhaps, on the far side, damn good looking, nice tits ... from what he could tell anyway. A thin lightweight sweater that hugged her curves, a hint of a nice deep tanned cleavage, soft looking breasts swelling up to meet one another, dark brown shoulder length hair that perfectly molded her face. She was looking at him again, looking at him, looking at her. She smiled. He smiled back. She took a sip of her drink, he noticed she was wearing a ring. But then again so was he. He turned the ring around on his finger with his thumb still holding his glass, wondering stupidly if he should remove it. "Why? He was married ... she was married, they were just two people in a bar having a drink. Hell, they hadn't even exchanged pleasantries for hells sakes and he was already imagining himself fucking her!"
He sighed, heard himself sigh, saw her turn towards him once again. "Long day?" she asked.
"Ah yeah ... it was," he answered. It was the perfect opportunity, he introduced himself. "Names Bill," he said extending his hand. He was surprised when she turned, taking it.
"Susan," she offered back. No last name, but then again, he hadn't given her one either. "Me too," she then added, still smiling, though friendly now, more so than before. "Haven't seen you in here before," she then offered, wondering.
"First time," he said truthfully. "Usually just go straight home from work, no rush to do so tonight though," he added, wondering why he'd told her that. Wondering if subconsciously he was trying to tell her he was interested, even though he really wasn't if the truth were to be known. But it was a quick little shot of self-confidence, sitting here at a bar next to an attractive woman, carrying on a friendly conversation, no yelling, no smart remarks. Flirting a little maybe, which is as far as he knew it would go. Hell, she wasn't really flirting back with him, just being polite, friendly. Obviously a professional woman who like himself had stopped in for a drink on her way home, perhaps even meeting up with some friends. Nothing more. Bill even glanced around, wondering if she was in fact waiting for someone.
"Here alone?" she asked.
"Yeah ... you?"
"Buy you another drink?" She'd just finished her first one.
"Sure, thank you."
"Thank you," Had Mandy said that this morning before leaving for work, he might not be sitting here now, wondering what it would be like to fuck this woman he'd just met.
The presentation had gone well. Better than expected even. They'd been at it all morning, the model of the new proposed shopping mall had been eye catching. Wooing several perspective tenants into moving their big name stores into it meant the difference of a small success, or a big one. Mandy had managed to invite three really big names to the presentation, two of which now seemed genuinely interested. And though construction was still well over a year away, getting some big names on board early on would make all the difference. Jim Peters, Mandy's boss had suggested, recommended for those who might be interested to drive out to the sight later on, have a look for themselves, and then perhaps sit down to dinner and continue on with the discussions. Of those who were interested in doing so, one of them was her newly found account. Mike Edwards was the Chief Executive Officer for one of the largest clothing store chains in the country. If she could land that one, then others would follow. No one wanted to give anyone else an edge, especially in a rapidly developing section of town where the growth had been enormous over the past few years. It was an ideal location, and held the promise of substantial financial success.
It also meant she'd be working late, but she'd pretty much already planned on that anyway. And besides, Bill was working late again himself, though he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately anyway. She couldn't help but wonder...
"Mandy? Can I see you for a moment?" Jim had asked her drawing her off to the side. "I hate to do this to you," he began. "But something's come up in the San Francisco office, I have to fly out tonight. Think you can handle entertaining Mike and Christopher yourself? Take them out to the sight, show them around, and then have dinner with them later? See if you can get a feel for what they're thinking? What they might expect in return for setting up shop with us?"
"Sure Jim, no problem," she said enthusiastically, confidently. She wouldn't have gotten the promotion to begin with if Jim didn't feel he could count on her. Jim smiled looking down at her breasts. That was the only thing that had ever raised any suspicions with her regarding her promotion. Jim was known to be a bit of a womanizer, and though he'd not come right out and approached her sexually, there'd been plenty of hints, a few off colored jokes, and then of course the obvious blatant stares at her chest. Though she really only had herself to blame for that tonight anyway. She knew as well as he obviously did, that her rather prominent breasts looked particularly attractive through the blouse she was wearing. Not to mention her long shapely legs that she knew she was showing off beneath the short, almost too short of a skirt she had on in addition to that. Jim smiled and then winked.
"Whatever's necessary, you know the drill," he told her. "Wherever they'd like to eat ... whatever they'd like to drink ... woo them, whatever it takes," he'd said once again emphasizing the word.
They had soon after driven out to the sight, though Christopher had followed them in his own car, begging off on going out to dinner afterwards. Mike on the other hand had been far more friendly, very outgoing and easy to talk to, not to mention being easy on the eyes. She had found herself entertaining a few thoughts, naughty ones. Wondering what he would look like naked, in bed laying next to her. His almost boyish blonde hair, dark brown eyes, chiseled very masculine features could have had him posing on the cover of any fashion magazine. But here he was instead, not even fifty yet, and already the CEO of a major clothing chain, and he was obviously showing signs of being interested in her to boot! Twice, she had seen him glancing at her partially exposed thigh as she drove the car, once even reaching over to just briefly rest his hand on her leg as they discussed the possible competitors who might also be interested in moving in. She'd felt a flurry of goose bumps racing up and down her arms, her neck, and over her breasts. She had felt her nipples stiffen at the all too brief contact, wishing he had left his hand remain where it had been ... all too briefly. She'd given him assurance that even if they did, he'd have the biggest area, the best access, the best of everything. Whatever he wanted ... He had smiled at that.
"Whatever I want?" She'd heard him say. Remembering her boss's words just before they'd left.
"Whatever it takes."
Mike had been impressed over the proposed sight, walking it together, discussing and imagining how it would all look in comparison to the model he had seen earlier. It was just hot enough outside that she had taken off her jacket, tossing it over her shoulder as they walked about. She could still feel the press of her hard nipples, the lacy thin sheer bra not helping much, nor concealing her fairly obvious predicament. She had caught him looking at her, looking at her tits, normally she might have taken some offence in that, but not today. She wanted him to look, wanted to see his smile, his reaction, especially when she let him know she'd seen him looking, and had welcomed it.
She'd suggested a place for dinner. He'd declined that one, recommending another, a place a bit more intimate, good food, but far more cozy and intimate. Mandy had always wanted to go there herself, but she and Bill never had. Now was as good a time as any. The fact that it would be just she and Mike alone, was even better. Already she could feel the wetness forming between her legs in anticipation of more, a lot more.
It was early yet, but the place was starting to fill up pretty fast. "Let's grab a booth before they're all gone," she suggested. "There ... that one," she said standing not giving Bill a chance to really consider it, though he did so briefly even then. There was nothing to go home to however, nothing but a cold dinner and TV. Here at least he had someone to talk to, someone very attractive in addition to that. It was far better than going home to an empty house. They carried their drinks over to the table. "I'll be right back," she said smiling, and then turned heading off towards the restrooms. Bill watched her go, following her with his eyes. She had nice legs, nearly as nice as Mandy's were.
Mandy. She'd told him not to wait up for her. Well, he certainly wouldn't be doing that. He smiled, maybe she'd actually get home before he did, and then who'd not be waiting up for whom?" He felt the stiffening of his cock, making a quick unobserved move in adjusting himself a bit more comfortably. He had no expectations of anything actually happening, but you never knew. Susan seemed to like him, perhaps even be a little attracted to him. She hadn't been overly flirtatious, but they had laughed, shared a few jokes and had obviously gotten comfortable enough for her to want to spend a little more time together. Maybe her situation wasn't much different than his own. He turned just in time to notice her walking back. There was something different in the way that she did, and then it dawned on him, she wasn't wearing a bra! He had noticed the tell tale press of her bra strap as she'd sauntered away into the bathroom. Walking back towards him now, the suggestive jiggle of her breasts, the hard pointed tips almost obscenely pressing against the thin material of her sweater assured him of the fact that she now wasn't. "What else had she taken off while she was in there?" He wondered.
He'd expected her to slide in to the booth sitting across from him. But she didn't, sliding in next to him instead, sitting where they could both see the majority of the other patrons, yet secluded in a way against the far back wall, unobserved, unapproached by anyone else needing a table. He could feel the press of her thigh wedged comfortably against his when she did, one hand reaching for her glass as she took a drink, the other suddenly resting on his leg. He felt her fingers lightly trace an imaginary line of tiny circles on his upper thigh, felt his cock stiffen even harder than it had been, once again almost uncomfortably positioned. Her fingers dangerously close to discovering that if she was to widen her playful drawings, and then before he knew it, she had. He felt the tip of one finger brush against the side of his rock hard shaft, felt her nail suddenly dig in deeper along the side of it, now running up the entire length of it towards the head. Here she again lingered, a light teasing touch as she surrounded it playfully before allowing her finger to once again travel back down in the opposite direction. Bill took a sip of his drink, dropping his own hand down beneath the table. He placed it directly upon her own leg, feeling the contact of bare flesh as he did so. He began teasing her in much the same way she continued teasing him, tempting fate, running his finger tips briefly beneath the hem of her skirt. Susan shifted, lifting herself up, and in doing so, bunching the back of her skirt entirely behind her. He had looked over watching as she did that, her bare ass clearly showing through before she had sat back down again. He knew then, her bra wasn't the only thing she had taken off.
They had ordered another round of drinks, this time a beer. Susan had done the same. Even then, Bill knew they'd have to sit there for a while nursing those before it would be safe enough to drive home. But what had been thrilling was when their waitress had come over to take their order. He had continued to feel Susan's hand now firmly grasping his prick through his pants, squeezing him playfully, wantonly as the waitress took their order, completely oblivious as to what was going on beneath the table. And even if she wasn't, even if she'd suspected anything, she hadn't let on, though smiling sweetly promising to return shortly with their drinks. He had then felt her hand on his, lifting it, placing it, she had done so, letting him know in no uncertain terms what she wanted, what she needed. What he needed now, and had been needing for far too fucking long! She was wet, her pussy was literally soaked as his finger slid deeply and easily inside her. Bill was still finger-fucking her cunt when the waitress returned with their beers, once again smiling down at them asking if there was anything else she could get for them.
"Yeah, a few more napkins," Bill had thought, saying, "No thank you instead, we're good." Susan now escalated the excitement, the danger, her fingers working down the zipper on his slacks, her hand burrowing inside, finding and then freeing his member. As hot as it was inside the bar now, the cooler air on his now exposed cock felt exhilarating, though just having his dick held, toyed and played with there beneath the table had a lot to do with that. He felt her squeeze the swollen bulbous head of his prick, felt the trickle of precum ooze from the tip as she gathered it up, smearing it around the crown of his cock-tip further pleasuring and exciting him even more.
Somewhat awkward now, and perhaps a bit too obvious, Bill removed his hand from between Susan's legs, especially as she was so intent now on fondling his prick. He was able to reach over however, lifting up one side of her sweater just enough to slip his hand inside onto her breast where he fondled it playfully, easily locating her hard thick nipple, pinching it, hearing her squeal quietly in delight as he did so. Susan again squeezed his prick, found another nice thick dollop of his cream, took a quick look about, lifted her sweater and applied his juice to her neglected nipple.
"Play with that one for a minute," she whispered hotly. He did so, smearing his own juice around and about it, delighting in the sensation of that hard little teat, so slick, so delightfully firm as he teased and pleasured it with his own juice.
It had been a long time since he'd felt a tit in his hand ... too long. Admittedly he missed playing with Mandy's, but ... obviously she didn't.