By the time I get to the bar I’m beat; my job as a holiday rep is quite hectic although everyone seems to think I’m here having the time of my life and spend my days on the beach working on my tan. Honestly, I haven’t caught a ray of sunlight over the last three months and the people on holiday here are more tanned than I will ever be. I chose to go to a bar far away from the hotels where any of my guests are staying; tonight is all about me and not about them. Just the other night one of the guests I bumped into in a club complained about the towels in his hotel, at four a.m. – needless to say I was not amused and to top it off I was fairly inebriated at the time. Frankly, I couldn’t give a damn at that time.
As the door swings open I can see the place is crowded with tourists, why they chose this hole in the wall for entertainment is beyond me. The music is loud and the booze is cheap, what more can an exhausted holiday rep ask for? I struggle through the crowd to get close to the bar and suddenly notice the reason for all these tourists in this particular dive; a sexy young man in a sleeveless shirt stares back at me from behind the bar. Cursing myself for looking a mess I smile at him and order a drink.
After my third drink I suddenly feel an arm around my waist and when I look up I notice the bartender’s face close to mine.
His lips brush my ear when he whispers, ‘Do you want to dance with me?’ His hot breath caressing my ear as he tightens the grip around my waist. When I glance around I see the young girls in the place eye-balling me, their looks are envious and I can almost read their minds. What does he want with her, appears to be written all over their faces.
I decline the invitation to dance; I need more booze to feel at all confident on a dance floor anyway. Yet, his arm stays around me and he says in a low voice, ‘You’re beautiful, when did you arrive?’
‘Uhm, I got here a while back,’ I respond hesitantly, somehow I don’t want to tell him I’ve been here for several months.
His mouth touches my ear again; I can feel my knees weaken at his touch.
‘I’d love to get to know you, what are your plans for tomorrow afternoon?’ His hand travels down to my hip and lingers there for a few minutes, almost as if he’s assessing my body by running his hands over it. And worst of all, I don’t want him to stop doing it. Not sure whether the liquor is sending me these signals, or whether I’m just plain horny for this guy.
‘I have to work tomorrow, but I have a few hours off in the afternoon – between one and five,’ the words slip out of my mouth before I get a chance to think about them.
‘I’ll see you then, at one, I’ll be here, come see me,’ he says. Then suddenly his lips are on mine, in a long and passionate kiss. His hands run over my body and then suddenly I’m alone; his break appears to be over.
The young girls flock around the bar again, trying to grasp his attention, but after pouring the drinks his eyes search mine again. His interest in me appears to instil spite in the girls obviously craving his attention. I’m flattered, but I know his kind, nice and seductive one day, cold as ice the next; fun for a few days perhaps, but that is all I can expect of him. Not that I am much different, a wicked smile appears around my lips, and yet, he seems to be enthralled to see it.
Suddenly the owner announces it is time to go home, but when I’m about to find my keys the bartender is there, behind me. His hands on my hips, he pulls me close to him, the bulge in his pants pressing against my buttocks. Kissing my neck, he whispers, ‘Stay a while longer, please.’
As a matter of fact, I really need to sober up a bit before I go home and when his hands wander over my body I cave into temptation. A few cokes and many lingering kisses later I finally head home and the words he said when I left, ‘tomorrow – one p.m.,’ keep repeating themselves over and over in my mind.
*****
My alarm clock is beeping profoundly; it’s voice sensitive so I try to squeeze out a sound – I’m not much of a talker in the morning and my voice is definitely not co-operating. I grumble at the alarm clock and slowly get out of bed, hung-over but still anxious for one p.m. to roll along. The desire for this bartender’s hot body is raging inside me. I manage to run into the bathroom before my flatmate gets up, fully aware she’ll be very annoyed with me for hogging the bathroom and using up all the hot water. Yet at this moment I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what she thinks of me, I have a date later on today; a nice way to break away from the tourists and their sometimes petty problems. The water of the shower runs down my body and I caress my body with the soap’s lather, thinking about him; I regret not having the time to soothe the yearning between my thighs.
When I slip out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, she stands there in the hallway, visibly mad at me but I don’t care and cheer ‘Good morning’ when she steps into the bathroom muttering a few curses under her breath. Smiling, I step back into my bedroom and get dressed for the day, blue skirt, white shirt and an orange scarf; my uniform. Only ten minutes later I dart out the apartment and head for work, singing along with the tape in the cassette deck, Billy Idol, at the top of my lungs. Hot in the city tonight, perhaps, but definitely hot on the Costa Brava this afternoon; the thought crosses my mind and brings a smile to my face and sends a jolt of longing through my body.
The morning just doesn’t seem to come to an end; I sit and listen to people complaining about the towels, the cockroaches in their rooms and what not for what appears to be hours. Basically all I can think about is his lips on mine, and his hands exploring my body; I shift in my seat to ease the flaring lust in my loins while the tourists whine to me. Then finally noon rolls along and I hop in my car and drive to the bar I visited last night, about ten miles from here. As always the road is crowded with idiots who don’t have a clue how to drive and I curse up a storm when my watch tells me it’s almost a quarter to one. I’m still five miles away from my destination, and the way things look right now; it doesn’t look like I’ll make it in time.
At fifteen minutes past one I park my car in front of the bar, wondering what the hell I’m doing here. What if he’s not there, various doubts run through my head because the place looks deserted. But when I walk toward the door, it swings open and there he is, beckoning me to step inside and when I do his hot mouth hovers over mine while his hands rove over my body and eventually linger on my breasts. I wrap my arms around his neck as he pushes me into the wall behind me and hikes up my uniform skirt and runs his hands up my legs in the process. Kissing me passionately in the mean time, his tongue darts in and out of my mouth like a promise of what is yet to come.
My fingers run through his hair, then down his back until they grasp onto his buttocks, pulling him closer to me so I can feel the extent of his arousal and he groans in my ear. All of a sudden he draws away from me and takes my hand leading me to the back of the bar. He sets me down on the edge of the pool table and starts unbuttoning my shirt. His hands are shaking when he touches my bared breasts and whispers, ‘God, you are gorgeous.’ His voice quivers with anticipation, and I’m just dumbfounded at his attention. I lick my lips and start fidgeting with his belt and jeans as his lips wander across my chest. He pushes me back on the pool table, hikes up my skirt again, pulls my panties down and casts them aside on the floor.
Then he kneels in front of me and starts licking the inside of my thighs while I stare down at him; I really can’t believe this gorgeous man is going down on me. But I don’t have much time to think about it, his lips tease my pussy, spreading it open with his fingers he runs his tongue over it. My hands find the rim of the pool table and my fingers lock around it. Arching my back to savour the moment, I wrap my legs around his shoulders as he continues to lick me until I feel the climax approaching. My breath becomes shallow and when I look down at my hands I notice the knuckles are entirely white from grasping onto the rim of the table.
Just when I am about to scream out from ecstasy, he looks up at me and sends me an evil smile, and gives my thighs one last lick before he stands up. Avidly kissing me, he pushes his jeans to the ground; I gasp when I notice the size of his erection from the corner of my eyes. Within seconds he enters me for the first time and I struggle for breath when I feel his big cock inside me. I run my hands over his chest to his neck and lock my fingers in his hair; my hips involuntary buck forward as I wrap my legs around his waist, not breaking the rhythm he’s setting.
His breath caresses my neck when he groans in my ear and pushes me back on the pool table and falls on top of me. Licking my earlobe and thrusting himself into me, he positions my legs so my feet fall into the side pockets of the table. I run my hands over his back and drive my nails into his back when my hips grind into his groin. The sweat beads on his forehead as his climax approaches; I can feel the desire crackling through my veins. Running my nails down his back in a teasing motion I find his ass and grab it, drawing his cock deeper inside me. My nails draw blood from his buttocks when we come together and lie breathing heavily and perfectly motionless for a few seconds. His hands capture my face and he kisses me long and hard thrusting his tongue into my mouth again; I can still taste myself on his lips.
When I leave the bar fifteen minutes later I feel his sperm trickle down my leg and can’t wait for a reprise of this erotic siesta.