Jonny81
08-02-2018, 05:06 AM
***
Like a lot of young men, I spent my 21st birthday at a bar. It wasn’t a bar really, more of a country western dance club, but they served beer at the bar. I spent a good portion of the night drinking long necks and watching all the pretty women on the dance floor. Then suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and a sweet southern angel spoke in my ear, “would you like to dance?”
Never in my life did I expect a woman to ask me to dance. I wasn’t bad looking, but didn’t think of myself as a hunk or anything. I was six foot tall with dark fuzz on my head that matched the fuzz on my face, in a plain t-shirt and faded blue jeans still wearing my work boots. In other words, I looked like every other man who swings a hammer from dawn till dusk. Hell, I didn’t even know how to dance.
I turned my head to get a good look and was surprised. Her hair was the same reddish brown as my boots, and those eyes… beautiful green eyes with stars in them. The same eyes I saw every morning in the mirror. That alone should have been a red flag, but by the time I got to her eyes my other head was already saying “hell yeah.” I can’t really say she looked like a porn star in that mini skirt and white top, because I’ve never found a porn star who looked that good.
Needless to say, my boots followed her pert little ass to the dance floor. The music shifted and she put her arms around my neck. She was shorter than me by a few inches, but those thigh high boots made up the difference. I put my hands around her slender waist and tried to mimic all the other guys on the hardwood floor.
“Come here often?” She asked in a voice just loud enough to hear over the music.
“First time,” I grinned like an idiot, “it’s my birthday.”
She gave me the sweetest smile. “Happy birthday then.”
“Thank you, do you come here often?”
She laughed. “Not for a long time, first time out in ten years actually. Just got divorced.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be, he was sleeping with every bar bunny for a hundred miles while I worked all day to pay his tab.”
I shook my head. “Good riddance then.”
“My thoughts exactly, how about you? Married, girlfriend? Live with your mother?”
I laughed and shook my head. “I work construction and own my house— if you call a tin can sitting on the side of the road a house.”
She smiled. “If you own it, pay mortgage on it, or pay the rent then it’s your house.”
“Any kids?”
She shook her head. “I wanted them, but the ex didn’t…”
“Sounds like you need a drink, and I really can’t dance.”
She laughed. “Your moving pretty good for someone who can’t dance, but I’ll take the drink.”
We broke apart and she slipped her hand into mine. Her palm was warm, silky smooth and just as sweaty as mine. I led her back to the bar and reclaimed my stool. She slid onto the one beside me and ordered two beers.
“Did you grow up around here?”
I took a swig of my beer and sat it back on the bar. “About twenty miles west of here, played two years of football in high school before I dropped out to swing a hammer all day. Mom died when I was nine and Dad became an alcoholic. What about you, what kid of work do you do?”
“I’ve been a bank teller since I graduated high school, met my ex on the dance floor when I was nineteen. My mother never married, worked two jobs and became a lesbian. I don’t know anything about my father other than his name and they went to high school together.”
I took another drink and sat it down again. “And what about the house you own?”
“It isn’t much, just a little one-bedroom,” she took a drink, “My ex kept saying we’d buy a bigger one someday, but that day never came.”
“My trailer is a three-bedroom, one is my weight room and the other is just as empty as the day I moved in. I’ve lived alone since my eighteenth birthday, only had two girlfriends and neither stayed longer than a week.”
“I was married to that asshole for ten years.”
“Can’t believe he was cheating on you,” I shook my head and finished my beer, “if I had a woman that looked like you at home…”
She smiled. “You can finish that sentence if you want.”
“I damn sure wouldn’t be at a bar trying to get laid.”
“What kind of car do you drive?”
I waved at the bartender and got us two more beers. “A beat up old Chevy, bought it used when I was sixteen and been driving it ever since. It’s old but has a bench seat big enough to sleep on.”
“And how often do you sleep in your truck?”
“When we’re working out of town and it's too far to drive home.”
“And where is home?” She asked, before taking a drink.
“Ten miles down the road on two acres of dirt and gravel.”
“That’s closer than mine.”
“What kind of car do you drive?”
“My ex just bought me a shiny new Camaro,” she put her hand over mine, “it’s parked right outside if you want to have a look.”
I took a drink as I looked into her starry eyes. Was he coming onto me? Or was I just imagining things? Evidently she was, because she took the beer from my hand and placed it back on the bar. I let her lead me outside and climbed into her sweet little ride.
“My truck is-”
She leaned over and shut me up with a long lingering kiss. “It’ll be here in the morning, just tell me how to get to your place so I can take you home.”
It didn’t take long for her to find my place, she only passed it twice. Then she was walking me up the custom built porch and digging in my pocket for the keys.
“You have coffee?,” she sat me on the old leather loveseat, “I’ll brew us a pot and we can continue our conversation from the bar.”
I waved towards the kitchen area. “Coffee’s over the sink and pot is on the counter.”
She was filling the pot with water when I suddenly had to pee. I grumbled and pulled myself off the couch to stumble my way down the hall. She caught up with me and slipped her arm around me just before I broke my nose on the door.
She laughed. “How many beers did you have?”
I rolled my shoulders. “Lost count after the first four.”
We went into the bathroom and I fumbled with my zipper. She slapped my hands away and down my pants went. I wasn’t wearing underwear.
She took my half limp cock in her hand and aimed it at the toilet. “Now you can pee.”
Oh if only it was that easy. I put my head on the wall to keep from falling over. Her hand felt so good on my cock that it was fully hard within seconds.
“Wow,” she gave me a squeeze, “you’re really big…”
I grunted. “And now you know why I can’t keep a girlfriend.”
Her fingers danced along the length of my shaft. “Actually, I don’t. If I had a cock like yours, I’d be fucking it every night.”
“I don’t think I’m going to pee anytime soon,” I felt my hips jerk, “unless you finish what you’re doing.”
She looked down at her hand, as if just realizing she’d been jacking me off. “Oh, sorry…”
“God, please don’t stop now…”
She licked her lips and put the seat down. “Sit down before you fall over.”
I did as she said and was pleasantly surprised when she knelt between my legs.
“I’ve never done this before,” she took my cock in her hand and gave it a lick, “but you’re probably drunk enough you won’t remember tomorrow anyway.”
Next thing I new she was choking on my cock and slobbering all over me. I felt her head lifting and slid my fingers into her long hair. She went down again and choked a second time. My hips responded and started thrusting into her mouth, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. It was pure instinct really, no girl has ever offered to give me a blowjob before— not a real one at least. She lasted a good four minutes before pushing against my thighs, and came up gasping for air.
It was probably a minute before the color returned to her face, then she smiled. “Fuck that was-”
“Amazing.” I finished for her.
She nodded and grinned. “Can you stand without falling over?”
“Pretty sure I can do just about anything right now.”
“Good,” she put one foot on the counter to play with her chocolate colored pussy lips, “because I need you to fuck me.”
I don’t know how we ended up in my bed. Didn’t hear my alarm go off at 5:00 am either. But I did wake up to one hell of a ride. The woman was bouncing on my cock like she was on a mechanical bull and I was ready to blow. I grabbed her tight little ass and jammed it up inside her far as it would go and unloaded.
“Now that’s a good way to wake up in the morning.” I said with one bite size breast in my mouth.
She rubbed my fuzzy head and pulled me up for a scorching kiss. “You’re Mickey Mouse clock went off half an hour ago.”
I smiled and looked down at those luscious pink lips. “I’m off on Sundays.”
She laughed and it sounded like a chorus of southern angels singing. “Me too, and my name is Rachel by the way, Rachel Rawlings.”
“I’m James, James Knight Jr.”
The look on her face was not the one I expected. “James Knight? As in Jim Knight?”
I could have crapped my pants, if I’d been wearing them. “He’s my dad, why?”
I barely heard her when she whispered, “He’s my dad too.”
***
Like a lot of young men, I spent my 21st birthday at a bar. It wasn’t a bar really, more of a country western dance club, but they served beer at the bar. I spent a good portion of the night drinking long necks and watching all the pretty women on the dance floor. Then suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and a sweet southern angel spoke in my ear, “would you like to dance?”
Never in my life did I expect a woman to ask me to dance. I wasn’t bad looking, but didn’t think of myself as a hunk or anything. I was six foot tall with dark fuzz on my head that matched the fuzz on my face, in a plain t-shirt and faded blue jeans still wearing my work boots. In other words, I looked like every other man who swings a hammer from dawn till dusk. Hell, I didn’t even know how to dance.
I turned my head to get a good look and was surprised. Her hair was the same reddish brown as my boots, and those eyes… beautiful green eyes with stars in them. The same eyes I saw every morning in the mirror. That alone should have been a red flag, but by the time I got to her eyes my other head was already saying “hell yeah.” I can’t really say she looked like a porn star in that mini skirt and white top, because I’ve never found a porn star who looked that good.
Needless to say, my boots followed her pert little ass to the dance floor. The music shifted and she put her arms around my neck. She was shorter than me by a few inches, but those thigh high boots made up the difference. I put my hands around her slender waist and tried to mimic all the other guys on the hardwood floor.
“Come here often?” She asked in a voice just loud enough to hear over the music.
“First time,” I grinned like an idiot, “it’s my birthday.”
She gave me the sweetest smile. “Happy birthday then.”
“Thank you, do you come here often?”
She laughed. “Not for a long time, first time out in ten years actually. Just got divorced.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be, he was sleeping with every bar bunny for a hundred miles while I worked all day to pay his tab.”
I shook my head. “Good riddance then.”
“My thoughts exactly, how about you? Married, girlfriend? Live with your mother?”
I laughed and shook my head. “I work construction and own my house— if you call a tin can sitting on the side of the road a house.”
She smiled. “If you own it, pay mortgage on it, or pay the rent then it’s your house.”
“Any kids?”
She shook her head. “I wanted them, but the ex didn’t…”
“Sounds like you need a drink, and I really can’t dance.”
She laughed. “Your moving pretty good for someone who can’t dance, but I’ll take the drink.”
We broke apart and she slipped her hand into mine. Her palm was warm, silky smooth and just as sweaty as mine. I led her back to the bar and reclaimed my stool. She slid onto the one beside me and ordered two beers.
“Did you grow up around here?”
I took a swig of my beer and sat it back on the bar. “About twenty miles west of here, played two years of football in high school before I dropped out to swing a hammer all day. Mom died when I was nine and Dad became an alcoholic. What about you, what kid of work do you do?”
“I’ve been a bank teller since I graduated high school, met my ex on the dance floor when I was nineteen. My mother never married, worked two jobs and became a lesbian. I don’t know anything about my father other than his name and they went to high school together.”
I took another drink and sat it down again. “And what about the house you own?”
“It isn’t much, just a little one-bedroom,” she took a drink, “My ex kept saying we’d buy a bigger one someday, but that day never came.”
“My trailer is a three-bedroom, one is my weight room and the other is just as empty as the day I moved in. I’ve lived alone since my eighteenth birthday, only had two girlfriends and neither stayed longer than a week.”
“I was married to that asshole for ten years.”
“Can’t believe he was cheating on you,” I shook my head and finished my beer, “if I had a woman that looked like you at home…”
She smiled. “You can finish that sentence if you want.”
“I damn sure wouldn’t be at a bar trying to get laid.”
“What kind of car do you drive?”
I waved at the bartender and got us two more beers. “A beat up old Chevy, bought it used when I was sixteen and been driving it ever since. It’s old but has a bench seat big enough to sleep on.”
“And how often do you sleep in your truck?”
“When we’re working out of town and it's too far to drive home.”
“And where is home?” She asked, before taking a drink.
“Ten miles down the road on two acres of dirt and gravel.”
“That’s closer than mine.”
“What kind of car do you drive?”
“My ex just bought me a shiny new Camaro,” she put her hand over mine, “it’s parked right outside if you want to have a look.”
I took a drink as I looked into her starry eyes. Was he coming onto me? Or was I just imagining things? Evidently she was, because she took the beer from my hand and placed it back on the bar. I let her lead me outside and climbed into her sweet little ride.
“My truck is-”
She leaned over and shut me up with a long lingering kiss. “It’ll be here in the morning, just tell me how to get to your place so I can take you home.”
It didn’t take long for her to find my place, she only passed it twice. Then she was walking me up the custom built porch and digging in my pocket for the keys.
“You have coffee?,” she sat me on the old leather loveseat, “I’ll brew us a pot and we can continue our conversation from the bar.”
I waved towards the kitchen area. “Coffee’s over the sink and pot is on the counter.”
She was filling the pot with water when I suddenly had to pee. I grumbled and pulled myself off the couch to stumble my way down the hall. She caught up with me and slipped her arm around me just before I broke my nose on the door.
She laughed. “How many beers did you have?”
I rolled my shoulders. “Lost count after the first four.”
We went into the bathroom and I fumbled with my zipper. She slapped my hands away and down my pants went. I wasn’t wearing underwear.
She took my half limp cock in her hand and aimed it at the toilet. “Now you can pee.”
Oh if only it was that easy. I put my head on the wall to keep from falling over. Her hand felt so good on my cock that it was fully hard within seconds.
“Wow,” she gave me a squeeze, “you’re really big…”
I grunted. “And now you know why I can’t keep a girlfriend.”
Her fingers danced along the length of my shaft. “Actually, I don’t. If I had a cock like yours, I’d be fucking it every night.”
“I don’t think I’m going to pee anytime soon,” I felt my hips jerk, “unless you finish what you’re doing.”
She looked down at her hand, as if just realizing she’d been jacking me off. “Oh, sorry…”
“God, please don’t stop now…”
She licked her lips and put the seat down. “Sit down before you fall over.”
I did as she said and was pleasantly surprised when she knelt between my legs.
“I’ve never done this before,” she took my cock in her hand and gave it a lick, “but you’re probably drunk enough you won’t remember tomorrow anyway.”
Next thing I new she was choking on my cock and slobbering all over me. I felt her head lifting and slid my fingers into her long hair. She went down again and choked a second time. My hips responded and started thrusting into her mouth, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. It was pure instinct really, no girl has ever offered to give me a blowjob before— not a real one at least. She lasted a good four minutes before pushing against my thighs, and came up gasping for air.
It was probably a minute before the color returned to her face, then she smiled. “Fuck that was-”
“Amazing.” I finished for her.
She nodded and grinned. “Can you stand without falling over?”
“Pretty sure I can do just about anything right now.”
“Good,” she put one foot on the counter to play with her chocolate colored pussy lips, “because I need you to fuck me.”
I don’t know how we ended up in my bed. Didn’t hear my alarm go off at 5:00 am either. But I did wake up to one hell of a ride. The woman was bouncing on my cock like she was on a mechanical bull and I was ready to blow. I grabbed her tight little ass and jammed it up inside her far as it would go and unloaded.
“Now that’s a good way to wake up in the morning.” I said with one bite size breast in my mouth.
She rubbed my fuzzy head and pulled me up for a scorching kiss. “You’re Mickey Mouse clock went off half an hour ago.”
I smiled and looked down at those luscious pink lips. “I’m off on Sundays.”
She laughed and it sounded like a chorus of southern angels singing. “Me too, and my name is Rachel by the way, Rachel Rawlings.”
“I’m James, James Knight Jr.”
The look on her face was not the one I expected. “James Knight? As in Jim Knight?”
I could have crapped my pants, if I’d been wearing them. “He’s my dad, why?”
I barely heard her when she whispered, “He’s my dad too.”
***