Blonde’s Are More Fun

On of the girls I worked with over the summer was what I can only describe as pink. If she hadn’t been obliged to wear the bar uniform of red T Shirt and jeans when at work she would have been a mound of pink fluffiness tottering around behind the bar all evening.

I started feeling myself imagining what it would be like to have her on my second night. I would never have asked her out she was too obviously straight, it would never occur to her to even wonder about the pleasures of another woman. That made me feel even dirtier and hornier thinking about getting her in to bed.

That night I went to sleep with this fantasy.

. . .

Blondie wasn’t called Jane but I’ll cal her Jane for this story. After work I walked her home to her bedsit, helping her avoid the drunken tourists trying to remember which hotel they were staying at.

She let us in to the flat and I opened the bottle of vodka I had brought from the bar. We sat down and listened to a satellite music channel while getting drunk.

“I need a pee.” Slurred Jane. When she stood up she found her legs had stopped working and only avoided falling onto the floor by collapsing onto the bed.

I helped her into the bathroom and stood her with her back to the toilet. I knelt in front of her trying to unfasten her tight jeans when she moaned gently. I though she was going to topple over but instead noticed a dark patch growing from her crotch. It grew quickly, all attempt at control on Jane’s part gone. I managed to undo her jeans and pulled them down but it was too late, the last few drips were all that landed in the loo when I sat her down.

I looked up at her face. She had gone bright red and the previously cloudy stare was sharper. Embarrassment had sobered her up.

She didn’t have to say anything. “Don’t worry about it.” I said, “I’ll clean you up. Don’t try to get up.”

I ran a bowl of water and soaped up a flannel. I threw her soaked jeans and knickers into the corner and manoeuvred her against the sink where she clung on for support. I felt a bit sisterly cleaning her up.

I asked her to turn around so I could wipe the back of her legs. When I reached the top of her legs and slid the wet cloth over her tight ass cheeks she did something unexpected. Jane thrust out her ass and bent forward opening her cheeks. Her arse and pussy were framed between the two halves of her round backside.

I drew the cloth across her pussy slowly and deliberately, then rinsed it out. Next I soaped it up again and washed her light brown puckered opening. Finally I rinsed it clean and with her still bent over the basin I patted her dry.

Jane didn’t stand up but said “That was nice.”

I knelt behind her and probed her lips with my tongue. “Ahh. That’s nicer.” With that encouragement I licked her outer lips for a while she was relaxed and maybe open to suggestion. I flicked my tongue quickly around her asshole. The ring twitched and tightened in surprise but as I continued to lick her bottom she relaxed and moaned.

I stopped for a moment and Jane stood up and turned around. We walked out of the bathroom and lay on the bed. She kissed me gently for a while and I rubbed her clit gently. She ground her shaven pussy into my hand obviously wanting more. I pushed a finger inside her, then two and fucked her with them until she came.

The Muscles From Bradford

The Muscles From Bradford

Muscle man rolled into the bar with his girlfriend on the first night I was behind the bar. He wasn’t what I think of as my type, looked like he took too much care of himself. His girlfriend was platinum blonde and thought she was lady GaGa. She looked utterly ridiculous.

He stationed her at one of the tables at the most prominent part of the upper level of the club. All front I thought to myself. When he came to the bar I groaned when I realised I was going to have to serve him, I had hoped the other girls or Chris the bar manager would be doing it. It’s not that I had taken a total dislike to him, just that I’d seen his type before and they make me think “Whatever!”.

That changed when he ordered and while doing so gave me a long, lecherous look up and down. Normally that would have been unwelcome but for some reason it excited me.

So that’s how I started fantasising about muscle man. I decided to call him Mark and what follows is what I frigged myself off to in bed that evening.

. . .

Mark came back to the bar for another round of drinks. He asked for a bottle of Sol but we where out and I explained I’d have to go down to the cellar to get a crate. Chris was nowhere to be seen and Mark offered to help. It was obvious why, he was looking at me in that way that had made my pussy tingle earlier.

He followed me down the stairs and into the cellar. I turned to face him, wanting him to kiss me, He didn’t. His hands grabbed my boobs through my T Shirt. My tits aren’t huge, B cup, and I thought that Mark would have ignored them after the bigger pair on his girlfriend.

I closed my eyes, wondering what he’s do next. I felt his fingers unbuckle my belt and unzip my jeans. Fuck he wasn’t messing about!.

I wiggled my hips to help him push the jeans down and felt his big, strong hand slip inside my panties. I was soaking wet and had a full bush of pubic hair as I wasn’t expecting to pull on my first night. His fingers pushed through my curly forest and into my pussy. He didn’t bother to rub my clit, he ploughed straight in with two fingers and hooked them round inside me.

Cheeky bastard I thought! And aren’t I a lucky girl.

I grabbed his cock through his trousers. It wasn’t huge, even though it was hard but it was nice to feel it and know it would be dribbling precum down his leg.

He found my G Spot straight away. His fingers rubbed me immediately making me weak at the knees. In thirty seconds I felt myself cumming and my crotch becoming wet. I came and drenched his hand and my panties that were only half way down my thighs.

Mark kept going squeezing and massaging until I could hardly speak and lost count of how many times I came. Perhaps it was just one big orgasm.

We left the cellar. Me wearing a big smile and Mark with my panties in his pocket.

My Holiday

I’ve been away from the blog for a bit ‘cos I got out of the habit and I’ve been away from home over the summer because I’ve been working at a bar on the coast. If you came in you’d have recognised me. I was the one never getting any sex and feeling pretty shit about it all summer.

I know boyfriends come and go but they are too quick to go at the moment so I decided to just have fun and not try for a relationship this summer. Plus drunken fumblings with total strangers seem less and less appealing now.

Because of the lack of sex I started fantasising, especially after a couple of nights of watching two of the other girls land some of the out of town talent. The “fresh meat” as they call it was interesting but usually not able to speak without dribbling by the end of the night. Add to that the girls’ recounting how they had to work hard to get an erection out of their conquests and it put me off the idea of pulling.

So I spent a lot of time in my pokey little room with my new laptop and vibrator and wrote up some of my fantasies for you.

I’m re-reading them to make sure they make sense and will publish them here when I have corrected them.