To help me celebrate my recent birthday, a group of friends dragged me out to a local bar… though it wasn’t much of a drag given that the bar is just two blocks from my home. It was a good time… lots of friends, lots of drinks, plenty of flirting. AND… all my drinks were free, courtesy of Christine, the alt/indie bartender with whom I made it a habit of flirting.
I’m partial to a somewhat complicated cocktail and Christine never cuts any corners... and that means plenty of time to chat. She’s super cute, maybe all of 5”2… jet black (clearly dyed), short, spikey hair… a series of retro/vintage tats across her chest and arms… smallish breasts… and an amazing, round little ass I notice every time she bends over behind the bar.
So, my flirtation with Christine has grown over the months since I started frequenting bar. I spent a week or two just observing her… then started chatting her up, emboldened by the fact I was convinced she was a lesbian, given the way she lit up when the cute ladies chatted her up.
When she learned that I was a director, Christine began teasing me… insisting that I worked in porn. And I played along, telling her that I was actually there on business, scouting for new “talent”. She’d always point out the cute girls and was actually quite the wingman, often hooking me up with the girls she wasn’t able to seduce.
But on my birthday, a Friday night, things were too hectic for anything more than a quick flirt… a couple winks across the bar and a mysteriously disappearing bar tab.
And with all the free drinks flying my way, I was quickly DRUNK… beyond my comfort level. So, I stepped out and went for a walk around 1:15 to sober up a bit… last thing I wanted was to get sick.
Having begged off with my friends, I headed home and went straight for the water and Advil. Then my cell beeped… it was my friend Brandon, except the message wasn’t from him…
“think u can jst skip out on yr tab, eh? Xtine”
I thought... I hoped… she was teasing, so I quickly called up the bar and got her on the phone, explaining that I’d be more than happy to work off the tab with sexual favors.
“Yes, I’m sure you are… but what’s in it for ME,” was her quick, witty retort.
“I just thought you’d want to help me out with my snuff… er…. photography fetish… you know, on my birthday,” I explained/pleaded.
“Alright, well…. I’ll meet you in the middle. Gimmie your address and I’ll come over and be your personal bartender…. One night only… got me?”
I did! Confused, a bit… unsure if this was a come on or just a friendly act. Either way, I rushed to throw all my dirty laundry in a closet and sweep up all the dishes under the sink…. Just in case.
When Christine arrived about half hour later, I had downed enough red bull to be experiencing my third wind. And she was bearing all the ingredients for my drink.
“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to chat you up tonight, but as you saw, it was a madhouse,” she offered as she set up shop in my kitchen.
She stared at me for a hot second and then taunted, “Go… make yourself useful… music…now!” she commanded, adding as I began to sifted through my CD collection, “and, for the love of god, please don’t assume I’m one of those Indigo Girls listenin’ lesbians!”
She must have sensed my intrigued grin from the other room, because she quickly followed it up with,
“But keep your panties on…. my GIRLfriend and I have a strict ‘look, but don’t touch’ policy”
Yeah, she was on to me. Still, the flirtation was fun… certainly more fun than I had had shooting the shit with a bunch of guys earlier.
I threw on something safe… the Clash. Who could object?
Ok, so admittedly it took me a good two minutes for my witty retort, but none the less I came back with,
“Hmmm… well, that’ll play nicely into my photography feti…” is what I started to say as she walked into the room, a drink in each hand… and pantsless.
She smiled at my stunned silence, walked over to me, placed my drink on the coffee table in front of me and then made herself comfortable in my club chair.. crossing her legs for effect.
Mmmm… her skin was alabaster, and while she was short of stature, she was all legs. Her ratty t-short rested on her hips and I could just barely make out a lil triangle of her bright red panties.
Christine waited… I was unsure what to do… awkward silence…
She smiled… sipped at her drink… waited. And then, before she could open her mouth and taunt me some more, I bolted to bookcase, and grabbed my camera. I wasn’t about to ask if she was kidding.
I started snapping pics. First, of her face… then her feet…
“So, mister director man…. What’s your game plan… what’s our theme?” she purred.
“Well, your girlfriend said ‘look, but don’t touch’ right? Well, I’m hoping that doesn’t apply to touching yourself!”
Obviously intrigued, she slowly uncrossed her legs as I snapped up picture after picture of her hips. Christine tossed back the rest of her drink, grinned broadly and then began to slide her hand under the waistband of her lil French cut panties. But I grabbed her wrist... stopping her…
“No, I’m the director here… and I’ll tell you when… now, be a good model and rub yourself through your panties first.”
She was a bit surprised at first, but also excited…. Biting her lip and rubbing herself in tiny circles right through her panties, pull them tight so I could see and shoot the outline of her swelling lips.
Now, I’ve had fun taking sexy pics with girlfriends before, but never with someone I had never slept with. And the fact that I couldn’t touch her made my heart pound all that much more.
I instructed her, “Rub up and down the length of your pussy… get those panties nice and wet!”
She did as told, throwing one leg over the arm of the chair, tilting her had back and closing her eyes. Tiny little moans emanated from deep inside her as her hips began to roll.
“No, no, no… you can’t cum yet… we’re just getting started,” I explained, pulling her hand away and taking several close ups of her damp panties. She looked disappointed, but obeyed.
“Now, slowly… VERY slowly, hook your finger under the leg hole of your panties and pull them to the side,” I directed.
And as she did, her eyes trained on my the whole time as she exposed her shaved lil slit, I took a series of pics of her juices arcing between her naked lips and the damp, cottony gusset of her panties.
I backed up slightly, kneeling between her legs nd resting my hand on her thigh. I simply told her, “Ok, do what you do,” and pointed the camera back between her legs.
Christine didn’t waste any time, rubbing her pussy for me and my camera. She acted like I wasn’t here… eyes closed, loud moans, fingers alternating between flicking her clit back and forth and sliding in and out of her tiny, but oh-so-wet little pussy.
And I took dozens of pics, my head spinning with drink, her moans, the sticky wet noises coming from between her legs and the smell of her pussy. I loved that she was letting me shoot her, but I wanted to get off… badly!
It didn’t get any easier as her free hand slid up under her tee and began folding her breasts until I could see her pert nipples sticking up.
“Take it off!” I casually suggested. She opened her eyes for the first time, sat up and slowly peeled her shirt off, exposing her perfect small, but pert b cups… nipples rock hard… both with little bars through them.
The sight was too much. Christine could see how hard I was through my jeans and enjoyed teasing me. She pulled a hand out of her pussy and rubbed the sticky cum onto her nipple before licking it clean, then traced her finger just under the bulge in my pants…
“mmm… you’re gonna use these pics… like the second I leave, aren’t you?” she taunted, then stuck her fingers back in her mouth.
I took a few pics of her hard, wet nipples and then began to unbutton myself, countering,
“I might not even wait that long!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa...” she straightened up. “I said ‘look, don’t touch’”
“Oh, I heard you… but I assumed that I was free to touch myself”
She looked uncertain, but as I pulled myself out, and she saw the effect she had had on my cock, she nodded her consent and went back to rubbing herself, really working hard to put on a show for me… trying to get me off.
I did my best to keep a cool, calm face as I shot her with my right hand and stroked myself with my left.
Christine slid down in the chair, threading her legs between mine so that she was rubbing her self directly below me. Laying on her back, looking up at me, mouth open, licking her lips… Christine flicked her tongue out at me.
I leaned down and stroked my cock, the tip just an inch away from her mouth, which she opened wide.
“Spit on it!” I directed her.
“Go, on.. spit on it… I need…” Before I could finish she lashed her tongue out and lapped the lil dew drop of pre-cum and swirled her tongue around the tip… all of which I photographed eargerly, then…
I grabbed her… my hand on her jaw, holding her firmly in place. She struggled a bit against my hold, but didn’t stop rubbing herself as I explained,
“We had an arrangement… parameters… look… don’t touch… now, you pull something like that and I’m gonna want to...”
And with that I plunged the entire length of my cock straight down into her mouth. Her eyes glazed over with tears as my balls rested on her chin.
I quickly pulled out. She gasped and I admired how well lubed my cock now was. She st up a bit and looked at me… unsure if I was pissed… or still playing. I cleared it up with a quick,
“Don’t let me get there first…” as I began stroking my cock again, faster and faster.
Christine rolled her eyes back in her head and went back to work…. Furiously stroking her clit with one hand, the other alternating between pinching her nipples and snaking in and out of her swollen slit.
Now, there are few things that turn me on as much, as quickly, as watching a woman cum… So, as Christine started lifting her hips, breathing hard, her chest turning flush with the approaching orgasm, I felt my balls growing tighter… my shaft growing thicker in my hand. And when her lips parted to let out a first labored breath as her twitched underneath me, I aimed my cock at her parted lips.
She was too deep, too far into her own orgasm, to accommodate me, but I managed to paint her parted lips with my cum. Her eyes shot open and she looked surprised, almost as if she forgot where she was for a second. I grinned and then aimed my second load all over her tits. She smiled back and continued to work herself over… maintaining eye contact the whole time as she writhed under me… glistening with my cum splattered all over her mouth, neck and tits.
I stepped back and took a million pictures of the gloriously sticky aftermath. She caught her breath.
I handed the camera to Christine, showed her where the delete button was and told her to delete anything she was uncomfortable with. I watched her sit up and begin to scan through the photos. Then I headed for the bathroom, turning on the shower and yelling back, teasing:
“You’re welcome to join me for a rinse off, but remember…. No touching!” I thought I was being clever.
After a good five minutes, I realized she wasn’t up for joining me. I stepped out, dried off and re-entered the living room. Christine, and her things, were gone.
I spotted the camera and picked it up off the coffee table and looked to see what she had left me. All the photos were still there, plus one that she had added…. a close up of her licking her lips, still slick with my cum.