Serviced At The Local Pub!

The Bartender
Hi there, I'm Lexi and I tell it like it is, all of it. Welcome to Lexi tells all. For those of you who are new to this I caught my no good ex Mike cheating with a local donut dolly and have decided that pay back is the best revenge. So for every one of those times that Mike cheated on me I will be ******* a different guy. 100 guys in total.
Here are the rules:
1. First and foremost no relationships, either before or after the dirty deed. This is strictly hit and run, no time for love or heartache.
2. This is a onetime thing, like above no relationships, no second chances, no sloppy seconds.
3. I am looking for more than just a quick role in the hay so if you wanna have a chance at making the "hot 100" you have to offer something special. This can be a new technique, a special place, fetish or you better be ultra-hot if you want some of me!
4. Everything must be safe, no bareback and no hurting me (or asking me to hurt you) don’t get me wrong I am willing to play slap and tickle, but no blood sports, no **** games. If it grosses me out it aint gonna happen!
5. I am not a *****! Don't offer to pay me or buy me things. I am a big girl I can pay for my own things. If I like you enough to **** you, be happy and go with it, don’t offer me stuff or try to make me your sugar baby.
6. And most important of all I get to tell all right here. Don't worry I will change enough details that they won’t be able to rib you at work on Monday about your leather outfit and your fetish for having ice-cream in the crack of your ***.

So here I was freshly liberated and ready to go out and add my first notch to my lipstick case in my pursuit of sexual liberation/ revenge.
Hot clothes...check, hair freshly styled...check, makeup perfect...check, ok hot girl ready for action, but where to go for a little booty call? The local pub of course. Yeah, yeah I know it’s a cliché, a hot girl walks into the bar....
So I enter this little pub with my head full of ideas about the evening’s hot conquest and a nervous flutter in my belly. Images of throngs of hot men running through my mind (fireman in a calendar hot, Olympic god hot, ooohy gooey hot fudge Sunday hot), I took a deep breath, checked my skirt and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
It took a minute for my eyes to adjust from the bright summer sun to the dim lighting of the pub. The Tartan was an English style pub with a long bar running down one wall and a number of high back booths. Pool tables occupied the back of the common area. It had everything...except men. Two seniors were sharing a pint in a booth, and a couple of vanilla looking business types were sharing bs stories over mouthfuls of pub fare and brews. No hot Chippendale types here.
Thinking that it was either time to move forward into the depths of gloom or stand there like an idiot lost in a foreign country I dove to the bar figuring a quick drink and graceful exit were the order of the day.
A small door that led to the back opened and in walked the bartender. No Olympic god this one, but not too hard on the eyes either. He was tall and thin with more of a runners build than my imaginary dweller of Olympus. His dark olive completion and black curly hair hinted at mediterrean ancestry but that was as close as it got. He was tall, maybe six feet and had a natural smile with glowing white teeth; a little too much time with the whitening strips was my guess.
He sat down the box of limes he was carrying and asked what he could get me. A good **** from one of those fireman in the calendars was on the tip of my tongue, but I ordered a Mikes Hard Lemonade instead. When the drink was in my hand and he had asked if I wanted to run a tab I finally had to ask the question that I was dreading the answer to...where were all the men? He replied that it was early still and a Tuesday to boot but if I waited a while things usually picked up.
His name was John and he had been tending bar since his college days had ended two years earlier, but he was writing the great American novel and when it was published he would be leaving the Tartan and all of its glory behind him. I learned this over the course of a couple hours and several more drinks while I watched a parade. No make that a trickle of unlikely candidates enter the pub and make their ways to their pre-established domains therein. It was looking more and more like this girl wasn’t getting any action tonight.
Finally last call came and went with John informing one and all that they had to go. He glanced up at me and asked if whoever I was waiting for had ever showed up as I was putting on my jacket to go. No I said he had never materialized. Picking up on my strange choice of words he gathered that I had been stood up and offered to buy me one last drink and see me out while he closed up. What the hell I thought I had nowhere to go in a hurry. Over the drink he gently asked about who I was waiting for, and to tell the truth it felt good to tell someone the whole story...either he was much experienced as a bartender at coaxing people into dumping their emotional baggage or it was the booze...either way it all came out, Mike, my plan, the 100 guys.
As I wrapped up my story he slid from his stool and without a word took my face in his hands and kissed me. I mean full on Day of Our Lives, long lost lover, molten steel kissed me. No granny kisses here. I was shocked, flabbergasted, and ...aroused. I leaned into it and returned the kiss with a vengeance. Our tongues were touching, twisting, and probing each other’s mouth. A sigh escaped me as I came up for air. His hands were on me then, my back, my butt grabbing my hips and finally lifting me back onto my bar stool. Kisses rained down on my lips, my neck, he was everywhere at once, nibbling my ear kneading my breast through my thin blouse. And there I was ever step of the way, running my hands up his back, touching his arms, shoulders, and his butt. Kissing his neck, nuzzling and taking in his scent.
My head was spinning whether from the booze or just the on hand action I still don’t know, but somehow my blouse was open now and he was massaging my breasts, rolling my stiffening nipples through the thin lacy fabric. My breath was a series of sharp intakes and the kissing continued. My breasts were fully exposed now with my stiff nipples making their way into his mouth one by one. His hands never stopping, constantly caressing, massaging. I felt a hand on my thigh and I opened my legs a little wider and arched my back abit so my sex was more exposed for his touch.
His hand slid slowly up my thigh with a gentle caress, never hurried. This was no boy I was with, but a man, experienced and masterful at what he was doing. His hand reached the smooth cool fabric of my panties and he toyed with my wetness through the fabric, lightly tracing a finger up the fold of my ***** all the while still kissing me, working on my breasts.
A gentle hook of the finger slid the sopping material aside and his stroking and caressing continued, only this time with skin to skin contact. My chest was flushed and my breathing ragged as my vagina caught fire, I was wanting this man so badly inside of me.
His mouth left my breast and slowly left a trail of kisses down my flat belly to the waist of my skirt, then it took a jog down to my quivering thighs. I have never been a big fan of oral sex to tell the truth, in my extremely limited experience Mike would go down on me but between his goatee bristles stabbing my hoo hoo and his insistence on only licking one spot until I was so sensitive it hurt I just never got into it. But this man was a master! His tongue lightly trailed up my thigh until he was at the Y of my junction. He teasingly licked ever so lightly at my outer lips. I was begging for him to do more, just a little more. Writhing on the stool I grabbed his head and guided him to my ****. The first couple of licks were so light and so fast I barely knew he was there, but then the pressure increased and I was clutching him, riding that tongue like a cowgirl desperate for release. He covered my vagina with quick furtive licks then he worked his way down to my opening. His tongue entered me and I was a woman released. My back arced; head spinning I ground myself against his face and talented tongue shuddering over and again.
After what seemed like forever my climax subsided and he stood up smiling. Moving forward slightly he leaned in to kiss me when I felt his swollen member against the entrance he had just left. I hadn’t even seen him undo his jeans, but there he was now, rubbing his engorged **** against my slick tunnel.
I arced my back inviting him in and with a grunt he slowly worked the head in. Slowly ever so slowly he slid in, all the while holding my face in his hands and kissing me. Our tongues were swimming in each other’s mouth as he plumbed the full depth of me. In and out he pistoned a little faster and harder each time. The angle of the stool meant that I was perched on edge with my outer lips and **** riding his shaft as it worked its way in and out of me. I was tensing up again about to explode when he stopped and withdrew. A puzzled look must have been on my face as he gently removed me from the barstool and guided me to turn around.
Leaning me against the bar he stepped out of his jeans and re-entered me from behind. Soon we had a rhythm going with me pushing back onto him stroke for stroke. My *** was making a pleasant slapping against his pelvis as we drove him into me as deep as any man could go. Seizing my hair from behind he gently pulled my head up from where it had been resting on my arms that were crossed under my breast on the bar. Looking up I watched our reflection in the bar mirror as we rutted like beasts in the forest. My breath caught in my chest and I felt that wave building again as I rammed his bone up inside of my quivering ******. I came again, as he continued to ram into me from behind, then with a stiffening shudder he withdrew spraying his hot seed across my ***.
He partially collapsed against me for a second while he caught his breath and fumbled for his jeans. I leaned heavily on the bar, my head spinning with what I had just been a party to. Mumbling something about getting me something to clean myself up, he disappeared through the same door that he had made his appearance through just a short while earlier. As soon as he was gone, I grabbed some napkins, wiped his spent load from my cheeks and readjusted my clothes. I heard him coming down the hall as I slipped out the front door. John, you never did get my name or number but you did show a girl exceptional customer service!

I have had a number of people ask if I am the real deal or a fatguy on a laptop…well google Lexi Field and you will see that I am the real deal baby! Two books and counting!
lexitellsall lexitellsall
Dec 2, 2012