Sitting at the bar with my Sir a delicious cherry vodka over ice is
ordered up. When it arrives, he instructs me to drain the glass quickly
leaving only the ice and cherries. I do as I’m told the alcohol rushing
into my system as the cool liquid slides down my throat.
As the glass begins to empty he dips his fingers in and scoops out
some pieces of the vodka flavored ice. Leaning in close to me, he
whispers in my ear, “are you wearing panties, lil one?” I shake my
head no, my eyes watching the ice melting in his fingertips.
He slides the ice up the inside of my thigh, gently forcing my legs
apart. The ice is melted before his hand reaches it’s destination. He
slides his fingers, cool with the water, over the outside lips of my
pussy. A moan escapes my throat as we catch the attention of the man
sitting next to me. My Sir makes eye contact with him but does not stop
his exploration.
He dips his fingers into my glass again and takes the ice pieces he
collects directly to my pussy, not allowing the heat of skin to melt
them again. Without hesitation he buries the ice inside the heated walls
of my pussy. I try hard to maintain control but the cold of the ice and
the gentle sting of the alcohol is a shock and my back arches, my eyes
close, my mouth opens in desire and a shiver passes through me.
He repeatedly stuffs the ice pieces inside of me, each time thrusting
his fingers inside, moving the cool frozen liquid against the walls,
his thumb finds the tight bud of my clit and slides teasingly over it.
After several pieces of ice have been stuffed inside of me, when I think
I can take no more, he directs me to sit on my hands and hook my feet
around my barstool, leaving my legs open and my hands useless.
He stands up next to me blocking me from site of anyone else in the
bar except for the gentleman sitting next to us. Sir slides his fingers
deep into my cunt without warning or preamble. When I buck against his
hands, he entangles his free hand in my hair and whispers harshly into
my ear, “sit still, slut.” I try hard to do as I’m told but his
fingers are thrusting in and out of me, the cool water from the melting
ice cubes mingling with the heat he is creating in my cunt and I feel
the combined juices flowing down my leg.
He kisses me on the mouth, catching my moans on his tongue and
swallowing my lust. I know not to cum without permission and I feel the
orgasm on the edge. Please I whisper against his mouth. Please Sir can I
come? He nips at my neck, working his way up to my ear all the while
working my pussy over with his fingers.
Biting my earlobe hard enough to make me cry out, he pulls my hair
and growls into my ear, “yes, you dirty little whore — cum for me, now.” I feel the
immediate crest of my orgasm with his next thrust, my hips meeting his
fingers, the water gushing out of my cunt onto the floor.
He won’t stop with just one, he isn’t satisfied until he has racked
my body with several more orgasms, until I’m begging him to stop. Only
then does he let up, his fierce strokes becoming gentle as his hold on
my hair loosens and his kisses sweeten.
Leaving me breathless and shaking, wrecked with pleasure, limp
against his solid presence, he looks up to see the man watching in
fascination. Sir smiles at me, gently petting my hair, his arms tight
around me supporting me and waiting for my body to settle. He smiles at
the gentleman sitting next to us and says, “What are you drinking,
friend? You look like you could use another.”
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