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After working a double shift at the neighborhood pub, only the bartender and I remained.

Ben and I had been dancing around on another for a while, always flirting but never taking it further. That was about to change.

When Ben offered to mix me a drink to sustain me during cleanup, I gratefully accepted. His hand brushed against my side as he reached for a bottle of sour-apple martini mixer, sending a shower of sparks over my skin.

Looking at Ben, I could tell he felt it, too. He turned and walked toward me, backing me up until I bumped against the bar.

With his lips close to mine, Ben reached behind me and placed the bottle on the bar. He was so close that his pelvis brushed against my belly, alerting me to a thick bulge tenting the front of his pants. Then he placed his other hand on the bar behind me, caging me in.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

That simple, innocent question melted me into a puddle right there. Unable to untie my tongue enough to respond, I nodded yes.

Ben’s lips came swooping down onto mine. For a second, I stood frozen, my hands awkwardly dangling at my sides. Then Ben’s tongue teased at my lips, silently asking permission to enter, and I jolted back to life.

I’d always secretly admired Ben’s cute, perfectly round backside, so I decided to lay my hands there first. I fanned my fingers over his cheeks, covering the maximum amount of surface area before giving them a good, hard squeeze.

Ben liked that. He rocked his hips against me, making that lovely erection bump my belly again.

As much as I adored Ben’s ass, my hands were itching to explore elsewhere. I swept over his hips and up his back’s hard, chiseled contours. My hands bumped along the sculpted muscle, skimming up to his shoulder blades before heading back down to his delightfully firm ass.

Using my grip on Ben’s butt, I pulled his hips hard against mine. There was that bulge again, so hot and solid. I rubbed myself against him, using my whole body to stroke Ben’s cock through his pants.

I skirted my hands around his hips to unfasten his pants. Breaking off our kiss, Ben whispered against my lips, “Let me get back to making you that drink.”

At that point, I didn’t give two flying fucks about the drink. I wanted to put something else in my mouth.

But Ben was already moving away from me to grab a bottle of vodka off the shelf. He picked up a plastic cup, too, giving it a shake as he said, “No more cleanup for us.”

Ben placed the cup and bottle down on the bar and set to work. I must admit, he’s a gifted mixologist — even if he’s just making a basic drink.

After Ben got all of the ingredients in the cup, he looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Can’t get a cocktail shaker dirty now. Do you mind if I stir it?”

“Not at all.” Anything to move on from mixology and get back to hooking up.

Rather than grab a stir straw from our prep station, Ben’s fingers closed around the zipper I was so close to grasping before and gave it a tug. Even before he pulled his pants down his hips, I could see that his erection was fighting to be freed.

Finally, Ben pushed down his pants and his boxers all in one shot. His erection bobbed between us, hard and thick.

I itched to take hold of Ben’s dick, but before I could reach out to touch him, he stepped around me and grabbed the glass full of his latest concoction. 

My eyes widened as he dipped his erection into the cup and swiveled his hips, effectively mixing all the ingredients. When he pulled his shaft out, tiny droplets of sour-apple martini dripped off the tip.

“Take a taste,” he whispered. “You know you want to.”

At first I burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, but once I got a look at Ben’s hard, glistening cock, I leaned forward and caught a drop of the drink off the end of it. Its sweet-and-sour flavor bloomed in my mouth, making it water.

A tiny taste wasn’t enough, though.

“Like it?” Ben asked.

Nodding, I curled my fingers around the base of his cock, snugly tucking him into my fist. Using my hand to direct him,

I moved the cockhead to my parted lips. The tip of my tongue brushed against his hot, silken skin, but I wouldn’t slide him inside my mouth just yet.

I paused, angling my eyes upward to look at Ben as he combed his fingers through my hair, holding my head steady as he breached my lips with his cock. My tongue slipped along his warm skin. Every inch of him tasted like a sour-apple sucking candy, and I was in the mood to suck.

Since Ben tasted like a lollipop, I decided to lick him like one. I slid him nice and deep into my mouth, relaxing my tongue and throat so that he moved in easily. Then I held him there for a bit, wiggling my tongue along his shaft’s sensitive underside. I could feel the ridge of the thick vein that travels from base to tip. Such a nice, sensitive place to lick.

When Ben’s hips hitched and the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat, I eased his length from my mouth, stopping when just the head remained trapped between my lips. Then I sucked that, too, so hard that my cheeks grew hollow, and still, I could taste the apple martini on his skin.

I released Ben’s cock from my mouth with a pop, then I lavished my tongue over its bell-shaped head. A clear bead of pre-come had collected at his crown, so I licked that, too. The slick, salty liquid mixed with his candied-apple coating, creating a flavor I could never in a million years describe.

Normally I would use my hand to

stimulate the spots my mouth couldn’t reach, but I didn’t want to waste any of that delicious cocktail. Instead, I swirled my tongue around Ben’s crown, then I slowly spiraled downward, circling around until I reached the base.

I traced my tongue around the base of Ben’s shaft, sweeping up all the sugary liquid. When I noticed that some had dropped as far as his balls, I licked those, too. His skin was warm against my mouth. Every crevice seemed to contain a bit of sour-apple flavor.

Thorough as my tongue bath was, I still couldn’t be certain I’d cleaned off all the cocktail, so I took Ben’s length deep into my mouth again. His cock’s wide head tapped at the back of my throat, making my eyes water.

Eager to take him even deeper, I braced myself by curling my fingers into Ben’s sturdy, sculpted thighs. Using my hold on him for leverage, I swayed forward and backward, allowing my mouth to glide along his cock while I moved.

Once I’d established a nice rhythm and felt steadier on my feet, I slid one hand from Ben’s thigh to his balls. I caressed the thin, furrowed skin, enjoying the moaning sound he made after every sweep of my fingers. I cradled their weight in my palm, applying the tiniest bit of pressure as I stroked my thumb over his sac.

“Oh, God,” he groaned.

A warm sense of pride washed over me as I continued to feverishly drive Ben’s cock into my mouth. I loved hearing the sound of this man’s pleasure, especially when I was the one inspiring it. I wanted to hear it again, to make Ben shout so loud that people out on the street could hear him.

The only logical solution was to add another hand to the mix. I curled my fingers around the base of Ben’s cock, making them work in tandem with my mouth. The combination of my saliva and Ben’s pre-come made his skin extra slick, and occasionally my fist would bump against my lips.

It was no bother to me. All I cared about in that moment was bringing Ben to his peak. He was so close, too. I could feel his balls growing tighter by the second. They were gearing up for an explosive finish.

When my lips reached the crown of his cock again, I decided to switch things up. Using my fist to keep working Ben’s shaft, I allowed my mouth to focus all its energy on stimulating the oh-so-sensitive tip.

I swirled my tongue over the head of his cock, swiping up all the salty pre-come that collected there.

Ben’s fingers flexed against my scalp. He’d already tangled his hands in my hair earlier; now he was using his hold on me to direct the way my mouth moved over his cock.

With another sharp inhale and a grunt, Ben came hard in my mouth, his come spurting against the back of my throat in hot jets.

My mouth was far past full by the time Ben’s orgasm ended. I swallowed what I could, then licked off a drop that had dripped onto my lip.

Switching back into gentleman mode, Ben extended his hand to help me up off the floor, and I accepted it gladly. When he asked if I needed a ride home, I accepted that offer, too. I even let him come inside — both the apartment and my pussy.

" />

Cock-Tailing

After working a double shift at the neighborhood pub, only the bartender and I remained.

Ben and I had been dancing around on another for a while, always flirting but never taking it further. That was about to change.

When Ben offered to mix me a drink to sustain me during cleanup, I gratefully accepted. His hand brushed against my side as he reached for a bottle of sour-apple martini mixer, sending a shower of sparks over my skin.

Looking at Ben, I could tell he felt it, too. He turned and walked toward me, backing me up until I bumped against the bar.

With his lips close to mine, Ben reached behind me and placed the bottle on the bar. He was so close that his pelvis brushed against my belly, alerting me to a thick bulge tenting the front of his pants. Then he placed his other hand on the bar behind me, caging me in.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

That simple, innocent question melted me into a puddle right there. Unable to untie my tongue enough to respond, I nodded yes.

Ben’s lips came swooping down onto mine. For a second, I stood frozen, my hands awkwardly dangling at my sides. Then Ben’s tongue teased at my lips, silently asking permission to enter, and I jolted back to life.

I’d always secretly admired Ben’s cute, perfectly round backside, so I decided to lay my hands there first. I fanned my fingers over his cheeks, covering the maximum amount of surface area before giving them a good, hard squeeze.

Ben liked that. He rocked his hips against me, making that lovely erection bump my belly again.

As much as I adored Ben’s ass, my hands were itching to explore elsewhere. I swept over his hips and up his back’s hard, chiseled contours. My hands bumped along the sculpted muscle, skimming up to his shoulder blades before heading back down to his delightfully firm ass.

Using my grip on Ben’s butt, I pulled his hips hard against mine. There was that bulge again, so hot and solid. I rubbed myself against him, using my whole body to stroke Ben’s cock through his pants.

I skirted my hands around his hips to unfasten his pants. Breaking off our kiss, Ben whispered against my lips, “Let me get back to making you that drink.”

At that point, I didn’t give two flying fucks about the drink. I wanted to put something else in my mouth.

But Ben was already moving away from me to grab a bottle of vodka off the shelf. He picked up a plastic cup, too, giving it a shake as he said, “No more cleanup for us.”

Ben placed the cup and bottle down on the bar and set to work. I must admit, he’s a gifted mixologist — even if he’s just making a basic drink.

After Ben got all of the ingredients in the cup, he looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Can’t get a cocktail shaker dirty now. Do you mind if I stir it?”

“Not at all.” Anything to move on from mixology and get back to hooking up.

Rather than grab a stir straw from our prep station, Ben’s fingers closed around the zipper I was so close to grasping before and gave it a tug. Even before he pulled his pants down his hips, I could see that his erection was fighting to be freed.

Finally, Ben pushed down his pants and his boxers all in one shot. His erection bobbed between us, hard and thick.

I itched to take hold of Ben’s dick, but before I could reach out to touch him, he stepped around me and grabbed the glass full of his latest concoction. 

My eyes widened as he dipped his erection into the cup and swiveled his hips, effectively mixing all the ingredients. When he pulled his shaft out, tiny droplets of sour-apple martini dripped off the tip.

“Take a taste,” he whispered. “You know you want to.”

At first I burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, but once I got a look at Ben’s hard, glistening cock, I leaned forward and caught a drop of the drink off the end of it. Its sweet-and-sour flavor bloomed in my mouth, making it water.

A tiny taste wasn’t enough, though.

“Like it?” Ben asked.

Nodding, I curled my fingers around the base of his cock, snugly tucking him into my fist. Using my hand to direct him,

I moved the cockhead to my parted lips. The tip of my tongue brushed against his hot, silken skin, but I wouldn’t slide him inside my mouth just yet.

I paused, angling my eyes upward to look at Ben as he combed his fingers through my hair, holding my head steady as he breached my lips with his cock. My tongue slipped along his warm skin. Every inch of him tasted like a sour-apple sucking candy, and I was in the mood to suck.

Since Ben tasted like a lollipop, I decided to lick him like one. I slid him nice and deep into my mouth, relaxing my tongue and throat so that he moved in easily. Then I held him there for a bit, wiggling my tongue along his shaft’s sensitive underside. I could feel the ridge of the thick vein that travels from base to tip. Such a nice, sensitive place to lick.

When Ben’s hips hitched and the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat, I eased his length from my mouth, stopping when just the head remained trapped between my lips. Then I sucked that, too, so hard that my cheeks grew hollow, and still, I could taste the apple martini on his skin.

I released Ben’s cock from my mouth with a pop, then I lavished my tongue over its bell-shaped head. A clear bead of pre-come had collected at his crown, so I licked that, too. The slick, salty liquid mixed with his candied-apple coating, creating a flavor I could never in a million years describe.

Normally I would use my hand to

stimulate the spots my mouth couldn’t reach, but I didn’t want to waste any of that delicious cocktail. Instead, I swirled my tongue around Ben’s crown, then I slowly spiraled downward, circling around until I reached the base.

I traced my tongue around the base of Ben’s shaft, sweeping up all the sugary liquid. When I noticed that some had dropped as far as his balls, I licked those, too. His skin was warm against my mouth. Every crevice seemed to contain a bit of sour-apple flavor.

Thorough as my tongue bath was, I still couldn’t be certain I’d cleaned off all the cocktail, so I took Ben’s length deep into my mouth again. His cock’s wide head tapped at the back of my throat, making my eyes water.

Eager to take him even deeper, I braced myself by curling my fingers into Ben’s sturdy, sculpted thighs. Using my hold on him for leverage, I swayed forward and backward, allowing my mouth to glide along his cock while I moved.

Once I’d established a nice rhythm and felt steadier on my feet, I slid one hand from Ben’s thigh to his balls. I caressed the thin, furrowed skin, enjoying the moaning sound he made after every sweep of my fingers. I cradled their weight in my palm, applying the tiniest bit of pressure as I stroked my thumb over his sac.

“Oh, God,” he groaned.

A warm sense of pride washed over me as I continued to feverishly drive Ben’s cock into my mouth. I loved hearing the sound of this man’s pleasure, especially when I was the one inspiring it. I wanted to hear it again, to make Ben shout so loud that people out on the street could hear him.

The only logical solution was to add another hand to the mix. I curled my fingers around the base of Ben’s cock, making them work in tandem with my mouth. The combination of my saliva and Ben’s pre-come made his skin extra slick, and occasionally my fist would bump against my lips.

It was no bother to me. All I cared about in that moment was bringing Ben to his peak. He was so close, too. I could feel his balls growing tighter by the second. They were gearing up for an explosive finish.

When my lips reached the crown of his cock again, I decided to switch things up. Using my fist to keep working Ben’s shaft, I allowed my mouth to focus all its energy on stimulating the oh-so-sensitive tip.

I swirled my tongue over the head of his cock, swiping up all the salty pre-come that collected there.

Ben’s fingers flexed against my scalp. He’d already tangled his hands in my hair earlier; now he was using his hold on me to direct the way my mouth moved over his cock.

With another sharp inhale and a grunt, Ben came hard in my mouth, his come spurting against the back of my throat in hot jets.

My mouth was far past full by the time Ben’s orgasm ended. I swallowed what I could, then licked off a drop that had dripped onto my lip.

Switching back into gentleman mode, Ben extended his hand to help me up off the floor, and I accepted it gladly. When he asked if I needed a ride home, I accepted that offer, too. I even let him come inside — both the apartment and my pussy.

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