Combined with his ripped muscles, his body really is a work of art.
“Keep lookin’ at me like that, sugar, and I won’ t be responsible for my actions.”
“ Like what?” I ask, playing coy.
“Like you want to eat me,” he grins.
“Why, maybe I do,” I grin back and lick my lips.
He growls and stalks over to me. His arms slide around my waist and he pulls my body flush up against his. I can feel every ridge and contour, as his hardness molds with my softness.
“Miss you already,” I manage to whisper, just before his lips join with mine. I open my mouth and his tongue slides in, dancing with mine. His short beard tickles my chin as his lips move in sync with mine.
He pulls back and kisses my nose. “See ya in a few days, beautiful girl.”
“See ya,” I say softly.
~*~
“Hey, Candy,” I wave across the room.
“Hey, Lacey, how you feeling, girl?”
I stow my handbag and walk over to her. “Much better now.”
“You’re still looking a little pale, though. You sure you’re over it?”
“Yeah, I haven’t vomited or anything for a few days now,” I laugh.
“Well, just go on and take it easy tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I walk off and begin filling drink orders, making change, collecting empties and wiping down tables. It’s about an hour before my shift is due to end, when someone throws a rock through the window. The closed window explodes and shards of glass spray through the room , across the patrons and myself. I crouch on the ground and then crawl over to help an elderly customer take cover under his table. I peek up and scan the room, looking for anyone who is injured. A few customers are groaning and others are bleeding, not bad, but that’s not the point.
“Candy,” I call out.
“Over here,” she calls back.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
Timidly, I stand. “Are all y’all okay?” I yell.
A bunch of replies call back to me. No one says no, so I walk over to the rock and pick it up. There is a piece of paper taped to it. In thick black marker is the word BITCH. I set it back down on the floor and walk over to Candy who is helping people up to sit back on their chairs.
“I’ll call Mitch and the police,” I tell her.
She nods. “I’ll check out everyone here.”
I walk over behind the bar area and find the bartender cowering in the corner.
“Are you okay, Paulie?”
“No, ma’am,” he shivers. “I think I might have pissed my pants.”
“Oh,” my mouth falls opens wide. Paulie is the best bartender in the state of Alabama, in my opinion. He’s also hilarious and as gay as they come. If Mitch would let him, I’m sure he’d come to work dressed in drag.
“Okay, well why don’t you sneak on back to Mitch’s office. I’m sure he’s got a change of clothes in there somewhere.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
He stands and walks away. I can’t help noticing the wet patch at the front of his jeans. Poor kid. He’s only two years younger than me, but he’s been fawned over all his life, so really, he acts about twelve.
I grab the phone off the wall and first dial the police. I fill the operator in on the incident and then I call Mitch. After a few choice words, he tells me he’ll be here in half an hour.
I announce to all the patrons that the police are on their way. “Can y’all please hang around u ntil they get here? I’m not one hundred percent sure, but they need to get statements off all y’all.”
I get a chorus of “Yes, ma’am’s,” in reply.
“Okay, how ‘bout I get everyone a drink – on the house?”
A few cheer and clap, so I grab some trays and begin pouring a bunch of beers and shots out.
Candy walks around, handing out tissues for those who have small cuts, so they can clean the blood off themselves, and I hand out the drinks. I also open a few bags of chips and nuts and set them out on tables for folks to share.
Half an hour later, Mitch
“Keep lookin’ at me like that, sugar, and I won’ t be responsible for my actions.”
“ Like what?” I ask, playing coy.
“Like you want to eat me,” he grins.
“Why, maybe I do,” I grin back and lick my lips.
He growls and stalks over to me. His arms slide around my waist and he pulls my body flush up against his. I can feel every ridge and contour, as his hardness molds with my softness.
“Miss you already,” I manage to whisper, just before his lips join with mine. I open my mouth and his tongue slides in, dancing with mine. His short beard tickles my chin as his lips move in sync with mine.
He pulls back and kisses my nose. “See ya in a few days, beautiful girl.”
“See ya,” I say softly.
~*~
“Hey, Candy,” I wave across the room.
“Hey, Lacey, how you feeling, girl?”
I stow my handbag and walk over to her. “Much better now.”
“You’re still looking a little pale, though. You sure you’re over it?”
“Yeah, I haven’t vomited or anything for a few days now,” I laugh.
“Well, just go on and take it easy tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I walk off and begin filling drink orders, making change, collecting empties and wiping down tables. It’s about an hour before my shift is due to end, when someone throws a rock through the window. The closed window explodes and shards of glass spray through the room , across the patrons and myself. I crouch on the ground and then crawl over to help an elderly customer take cover under his table. I peek up and scan the room, looking for anyone who is injured. A few customers are groaning and others are bleeding, not bad, but that’s not the point.
“Candy,” I call out.
“Over here,” she calls back.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
Timidly, I stand. “Are all y’all okay?” I yell.
A bunch of replies call back to me. No one says no, so I walk over to the rock and pick it up. There is a piece of paper taped to it. In thick black marker is the word BITCH. I set it back down on the floor and walk over to Candy who is helping people up to sit back on their chairs.
“I’ll call Mitch and the police,” I tell her.
She nods. “I’ll check out everyone here.”
I walk over behind the bar area and find the bartender cowering in the corner.
“Are you okay, Paulie?”
“No, ma’am,” he shivers. “I think I might have pissed my pants.”
“Oh,” my mouth falls opens wide. Paulie is the best bartender in the state of Alabama, in my opinion. He’s also hilarious and as gay as they come. If Mitch would let him, I’m sure he’d come to work dressed in drag.
“Okay, well why don’t you sneak on back to Mitch’s office. I’m sure he’s got a change of clothes in there somewhere.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
He stands and walks away. I can’t help noticing the wet patch at the front of his jeans. Poor kid. He’s only two years younger than me, but he’s been fawned over all his life, so really, he acts about twelve.
I grab the phone off the wall and first dial the police. I fill the operator in on the incident and then I call Mitch. After a few choice words, he tells me he’ll be here in half an hour.
I announce to all the patrons that the police are on their way. “Can y’all please hang around u ntil they get here? I’m not one hundred percent sure, but they need to get statements off all y’all.”
I get a chorus of “Yes, ma’am’s,” in reply.
“Okay, how ‘bout I get everyone a drink – on the house?”
A few cheer and clap, so I grab some trays and begin pouring a bunch of beers and shots out.
Candy walks around, handing out tissues for those who have small cuts, so they can clean the blood off themselves, and I hand out the drinks. I also open a few bags of chips and nuts and set them out on tables for folks to share.
Half an hour later, Mitch
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