“Bartender” is my handle among a local group of swingers and “lifestylist.” I was introduced to this group in 2009 by a woman who goes by the handle “Betty Bop” [no resemblance]. Since then I have been dibbling and dabbling in, what they refer to as “the lifestyle.” Honestly, it’s not much different from what I’ve already seen as a “Bruh,” or a college frat guy. A bunch of horny hoes get together and choose. The End. My first night as a bartender was interesting though:
It all began one night a few months ago when “Betty Bop” asked me to bar tend her party. The bartender that she’d originally hired never showed. After throwing back a little “liquid courage” to calm my nerves, I happily jumped behind the bar and began mixing for people; and “Bartender” was born. I had spent the majority of my time at the party [before I started bar tending] flirting with a woman who goes by the handle “Xxplosive.” “Xxplosive” was very aggressive. I would describe her as “a few pounds more than thick,” dark skinned, and about a 5 1/2 or 6 in regards to her appearance. I had promised her that at some point during the night I’d eat the pussy. When I didn’t complete the task promptly because I was bartending, she took it upon herself to approach the bar every half hour to loudly remind me saying “Bartender…when you gone eat this pussy?” After this had happened about 4 times, I called her bluff. Some part of me knew that she just wanted something to do or say, to occupy her time in between sessions, but I was never one to turn down a challenge. “Go get a towel, and I am going to eat the pussy right here on the bar,” I instructed; Not entirely convinced that she was serious. She walked away without a word. I continued to make drinks and figured that nothing would come of it. About 30 minutes later she came back with a rough green towel and handed it to me. [One thing that I forgot to mention is that she was naked through out all of this. About 50 people were in attendance, most of them also completely naked, in this single story, 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house. The bar was in the kitchen.] Unphased, I took the towel, moved everything off of the bar, placed it, and helped her hoist herself unto the bar, spread eagle, in front of me. It was as if I was her gynecologist, examining her in a room full of people. All we were missing was stirrups and a thin paper blanket covering her top half. She yelled, moaned, and jerked violently in ecstasy as I went down on her, claiming the attention and stares of the party. Every so often, I would look up to see bewildered faces staring at “Xxplosive” flailing. All I could think to myself was “I must be doing something really special?” After about thirty minutes or so, I released her. She laid across the bar breathing heavily for a few minutes before carefully stepping down and thanking me. I wiped down the bar and made a scene of washing my hands as to signal that I was clean of the scene. I made big gestures making sure to splash the water loudly. I soaped my arms all the way up to the elbow. When it was all said and done I yelled “Next!” and I continued making drinks.
© Stephen R. Freshley and wordbending, 2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Stephen R. Freshley and Word Bending a secret but not so secret blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.