What Were the Chances?

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July 1st 2013 I had just started a long shift behind the bar and I wasn’t in the mood for being friendly to customers. I’d had a row with my boyfriend, Chris, before I’d left the house. I can’t even remember what the row had been about; it was that meagre and irrelevant. The cause of the arguments never stayed put in my mind because the rough make up sex would always wipe my memory of the reasons why. Thankfully, the bar had been quiet that night, so my cheeks only slightly ached from the fake, gracious smiles I had used to mask over my real emotions. At the age of thirty, I hadn’t planned to still be working at the bar, but I was good at my job. I knew what the customers wanted and I was really good at reading people. When the majority of the after-work crowd had left and there was a lull at the bar, I decided to take a wander out to the tables and collect some empties. My mind was elsewhere as I weaved my way through the tables, stacking the pint glasses in my collection tray. I mindlessly cleared the empty tumblers off a younger man’s table. He was sat alone in one of the window seats and broke from people watching to look over at me, “Thanks. Much appreciate, Doll.” I looked at him with a slightly bemused expression. Somehow the air of sophistication that came from him when he spoke, didn’t match the sight of the baby-faced, casually dressed, messy haired, guy who was in front of me. I was about to ask him if he wanted another drink, noticing that his scotch was almost gone, but a shout from a regular customer at the bar stopped me before I could ask. I turned to see Paul waving an empty glass in the air, which is the international sign for, ‘Can I get another drink?’ By the time I’d served the new wave of customers and had chance to look over in Scotch Boy’s direction, his table was empty and he’d obviously left for the night. The rest of my shift passed in a blur and before I knew it I was heading home, soon to be in the comfort of my man’s arms, as we relaxed together on the sofa in front of the television. I was thankful he’d forgotten about our row before my shift and enjoyed using his stomach as a pillow, nestled and relaxing with his arm securely around me. We weren’t big talkers, so we watched in silence, just relaxing. His hand came to my neck. I could tell from the pressure of his fingers against my skin that he was after something. I was really enjoying feeling having his hands on me. He grabbed my neck and pulled my head towards his cock, which was still encased in his joggers, but his erection was clear as day. I stroked his cock through the fabric, before getting frustrated and ripping them off with one pull. It was delicious to feel the soft skin and warmth of his sturdy cock in the palm of my hand. Meanwhile, his fingers had slipped beneath my panties and he fingered my pussy roughly. He tore off my bottoms, before mauling my pussy making me soaking wet. Sticking his fingers inside me and collecting my juices, his other hand around my neck holding me in place, he brought his soaked fingers to my mouth and watched me suck them clean of my juice. He then tightened his grip on my throat and rubbed my clit. I couldn’t take anymore and squirmed in his grip. I would’ve screamed out had the vice-like grip of his hand around my throat not constricted my cries to mere squeaks of sound. My orgasm was bursa escort amazing and when I’d finished cumming he let go of my neck and finally let me suck his cock. While I deep throated him, he’d slap my pussy, making me moan out and gurgle around his cock. He gripped my hair in his fist and pumped his cock, face fucking me. I pulled and tweaked at my nipples. His fingers were inside my soaked cunt and I jacked and licked, sucked and cried out that, “I want it. Oh fuck, I want it,” willing him to cum all over my waiting tongue. He didn’t disappoint. My hips worked up my own frenzy with his fingers inside my pussy. I incessantly pumped his cock and lapped with my tongue. When I felt the first spray of his cum against me, my cunt gripped his fingers and soaked his hand with the gush of viscous excitement. I swallowed every last drop, carefully licking his softening dick clean and slowly coming down after my own orgasmic high. Afterwards we went back to silently cuddling on the sofa. July 2nd 2013 After the brilliant session of oral sex the night before, I had a hopefully sense that maybe everything would be alright between me and my boyfriend. We’d been together for what felt like forever, which was in fact a little over ten years. Even though things weren’t perfect, with a naughty glow from doing one of my favourite things I was feeling positive. I came up behind him as he prepared his packed lunch for the day. I put my arms around his waist, cuddling into his back. He froze, but held onto me for a moment. I didn’t get the feeling I craved from him; that returned feeling of passion, of love. It’s not that he didn’t love me. I was sure I meant everything to him. He just didn’t have the same way of showing it as I did. He turned and gave me a little peck on the cheek and said, “I’m getting ready to leave for work. I’ll see you briefly before you go to work later and then I’ll head out.” My positive feelings evaporated like the vapour out the top of a boiling kettle. I had drawn the short straw when it came to that days shift and I was going to be closing. At the bar my day had been long and busy and I was clearing tables when the sound of coins bouncing across the floor caught my attention. I collected the change that had rolled in my direction and turned to the juke box to hand it back to the person who had dropped it. Scotch boy knelt before me, collecting the silver pieces that had scattered across the floor. He smiled as he stood. It was the first time I’d seen him stand and his lofty frame towered over my not so measly 5ft11” height. I handed him back the coins I had picked up. “Seems I owe you thanks,” he said with a cheeky smile. “You’re welcome. I don’t mind helping you get your money back, as long as you use it to put some decent music on,” I replied with a wink, before going back to collecting glasses. Things usually calmed down after the last public transport times had passed and that night was no exception. There were a few stragglers scattered across tables throughout the seating area and Old Mr Riley was in his usually place propping up the end of the bar. I was cleaning down the bottle shelf and thinking about what else I needed to get done before closing up, when a voice behind me broke my thoughts. “Did you approve of the music?” “Some of the rock songs weren’t really bursa escort bayan my cup of tea, but I liked the Sinatra. If that was you?” He pulled up a stool and placed his empty glass on the bar. I grabbed the bottle of single malt scotch and was about to pour him a shot when a thought came into my mind. “You got any ID?” He laughed and I couldn’t help chuckling along at the sight of his twinkling amused eyes and broad smile, “You don’t think I look old enough to drink?” “You do look young. I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t ask.” “I’ll take that as a compliment and it seems I’ve got to thank you twice in one night.” He pulled the ID from his wallet, “Aren’t you the lucky girl?” I laughed not only at his cheeky response, but also the sight of his ID picture. With wide hazel eyes, below raised eyebrows and a really goofy grin, the picture could do nothing but make me giggle. “I know it’s certainly not the best pose. A friend of mine liked the picture and dared me to use it for my ID. Silly I know, but it is amusing watching people’s reactions.” “I’m sure it is… Luke, aged twenty one and ten months.” I poured his drink. He spent the rest of my shift chatting in between me serving customers. After everyone else had left and I’d bundled Old Mr Riley in a cab and sent him on his way home. I locked up the bar and poured myself and Luke a glass of scotch each. “You drink scotch?” “Never tried it, but I’m always game to try new things.” I took a large sip and nearly choked, as the burning liquid hit the back of my throat and trailed its heat through my insides. Luke laughed in response. I tipped the remainder into his glass and poured myself a vodka coke. “You seem a lot happier today,” he noted. “Yeah, I wasn’t feeling myself yesterday…” He raised his eyebrows indicated my innuendo, so I playful whipped him with my bar towel. “I didn’t mean like that! What I meant was I’d had an argument with my boyfriend before my shift, so I was feeling a little out of sorts.” “Ahh, that makes sense. You’ve obviously made up since then,” he said with the cheekiest of smirks. I may have only spent a short time talking with him, but something inside me knew I could trust him. I had no difficulty opening up and sharing with him things that you probably wouldn’t even share with people you’d known for years. Over the next four hours we propped up the bar in the darkened space and talked and talked about anything and everything. I laughed so hard that my sides hurt. We shared stories of love, lust and hurt and by the time the sun started to rise above the horizon I felt like I’d known him forever. “We should get going. The cleaners will be arriving soon,” I reluctantly said. “Won’t Chris wonder where you’ve been all night?” “He’s gone to visit his brother for a few days, so he’s not at home. It looks like it’s going to be a nice day, so I’ll probably get some sleep then work on my tan in the garden, before my shift at night.” “Now that I’d like to see.” I grinned at his compliment, “Perhaps I’ll send you a picture.” *** It was the start of an intense and exceptionally close friendship. It was the sort of friendship that many would never be able to understand. Perhaps that’s because many would see that it could never last long term, but in my happy oblivious world, I had hope escort bursa that I could make it work. Every day we spoke. If I was at home he would text me. He would come see me at work and I often joked that our friendship would turn him into an alcoholic. We became close on so many levels. We could make each other laugh, talk maturely about deep topics, rant about work and family, and most commonly talk about lust and desire. I felt bad because he was a young single guy. We both knew I was attached and so nothing could ever physically happen between us; he was a gentleman and would never do that to Chris. He also knew that I would struggle with the guilt and didn’t want to put me through that. I respected him so much for that and it only made my feelings for him grow even stronger. That didn’t mean to say that we didn’t take things as close to a full blown affair as we possibly could. What was once a case of me describing in detail what I got up to in the bedroom with Chris, turned quickly into what I wanted Luke to do to me. I have to laugh at how conniving he was at the beginning when he tricked me. We were in the park catching some sun before my shift was due to start. I was curious to find out what he was like in the bedroom. All my other previous attempts to find out how many women he’d slept with had been closed down, so I decided to take a different approach. “Do you like to be dominant, or be dominated in the bedroom?” He smiled a wry grin before answering, “I’d say I’m switch.” “Bit of both keeps things interesting I guess,” I paused before continuing. “We have a completely open and honest friendship right?” “Yeah, of course.” “Well then, why do you always clam up when I try to ask you about who you’ve slept with in the past? Are you still a virgin?” My radar had been picking up on things and I had my suspicion, but I was still shocked when he answered back, “Yes.” It was the start of being continually shocked by him. I’m sure I’ve used the phrase, “Switch, my arse!” a few times throughout the next several months. For a guy that had never had sex before, he sure knew how to stoke the flames of desire within me. With just a look he could get me quivering inside. There was a power and dominance to him that didn’t match up to the exterior image and was completely opposite to his caring side. The balance between friendship and my obsessive desire to fuck him was getting way out of kilter. I’d masturbate to thoughts of him constantly, sometimes even with him on the phone listening to me. One night I got really brave and sent him a video of me fucking my dildo, sliding the life-like appendage deep into my soaked pussy. I looked straight down the camera and got myself off while thinking of him, calling out his name. The message I got back was my reward for all the nervous waiting and questioning of if it was a step too far. You total, filthy, teasing bitch. I just knew when I saw that ‘Inbox (1)’ you’d done something totally twisted. Thank you so much. That was so fucking hot; it had me in a bit of a state. But, luckily for you, you don’t have to just take my word for it. Just in case you were worried I didn’t enjoy it… Attached was a video of him stroking the most gorgeous and massive cock I think I’d ever seen. It was incredible and I couldn’t resist messaging him straight away to tell him so. How we managed to keep our hands off each other when we were in person I have no idea. I wanted him to give me the gift of taking his virginity. It would only be once and it would be amazing. I thought of it so many times, what we would do and how incredible it would be.

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