Vodka tonic with a splash of lime, please

“Vodka tonic with a splash of lime, please,” she said.

He turned to make the drink, not paying any particular
attention the woman who had ordered it. The bar had been busy, as
it usually was on Friday nights, and wasn’t it just his luck that
the other bartender called earlier and said she was running late.
Putting the drink on the bar, he did notice two things about the
person who ordered it: it was female, and she was alone. The alone
part was kind of unusual.

It was rare in these days of monogamy and safe-sex to see a
woman at a bar alone – they usually had a date, or had other female
friends with them, particularly the Friday night happy hour crowd.
He glanced at the clock – only 7:30 – maybe she is just waiting for
someone after all.

The other bartender arrived with sincere apologies and got to
work. He was glad she arrived when she did. The bar was really
starting to hop. The after-work crowd was beginning to filter out,
and the serious drinkers were moving in. This was the time when
things really began to heat up. The DJ started to play on the bar’s
terrific sound system, and the more the people danced, the more
drinks he had to make. The late night crowd also leaned toward the
exotic as far as drinks were concerned, which took more time to
concoct, so he was grateful for the help – better late than never.

He looked over the people at the bar to see who was running
low, and noticed Vodka Tonic was in need of a refill. “Would you
like another ?” he asked.

“Sure,” she replied, “I am going to be here for a long time
this evening, so fill ‘er up.”

He usually didn’t go in for small talk with the bar patrons,
but he was curious about this one. She was a nice looking woman,
not drop dead gorgeous, but with a certain sophisticated air about
her. He noticed the absence of a ring on her left hand, and he
also surmised at this point that she wasn’t waiting for someone –
she had been sitting on that same bar stool for an hour and a half
at that point, nursing her Vodka Tonic. He decided to play his own
version of Twenty Questions with her, to find out what her game

“Are you waiting for someone ?”. Subtlety was never one of his
strong points.

She looked at him for a moment before she answered. He was
tall, over 6 feet, with an athletic build. He had dark hair that
was shoulder length with long bangs, and eyes the color of violets.
He was simply dressed in faded jeans and a white collared shirt.

“As a matter of fact, I am waiting for someone,” she said in
a raspy voice, “I’m just not sure who it is yet.”

OK. Curiosity wasn’t the word for it now. He was determined
to find out what her story was. He decided to play naive. “I beg
your pardon ?” he said.

She leaned over the leather bar rail, beckoning him to come a
little closer, as if she had a secret to share with him. He
complied, and rested his elbows on the bar.

“I have a story to tell,” she began. “It all started shortly
after my thirtieth birthday. I had always heard that a woman
reaches her sexual peak in her mid-thirties. I never really gave
it much thought when people brought it up, because I couldn’t
imagine my sex life getting any more active than it already was.”
She took a long drink. “I was wrong.” She paused for a moment and
said, “Better fill me up again,” she requested. “It’s definitely
going to be a long night.”

The bartender took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what was
happening here, but he knew that this just wasn’t a typical
barkeep/patron conversation. He urged her to continue. “It’s a
long night for me, too. It’s my turn to lock up after closing.
And I am fascinated – please go on,” he said.

“Will you please excuse me for a moment ?” she said as she
slid off her barstool. He nodded, and watched her move toward the
dance floor. She walked to the far side of the dance floor, and
stopped to talk to a man who was leaning on a pole, watching the
action out on the floor. The bartender kept an eye on them as he
refilled drinks for the people seated at the bar. The woman and
the man talked briefly. The bartender saw her smile at the man, and
she nodded several times. After a few minutes, she returned to her
seat at the bar.

“Where was I ? Oh, yes. Thirty. Quite a milestone in my
life. I am not sure what it was, maybe something hormonal or
metabolic. I just know I went through some serious changes. All
the sudden, I just couldn’t have sex enough. Well, maybe not sex
per se. More specifically, orgasms. Is this conversation becoming
uncomfortable for you?”

She had obviously heard the little gasp that escaped his lips,
even above the noise of the music and the crowd.

“You are, ah, pretty direct, aren’t you ? I am just glad it’s
too dark in here for you to see a grown man blush. But don’t mind
me – please continue.”

She stirred the Vodka Tonic with the tip of her red-nailed
index finger. Putting her finger in her mouth, she then slowly
withdrew it to remove the last lingering drop of her drink. He
blinked slowly and exhaled sharply, as if to shake off the shudder
that her little display had caused him. After taking another
sip of her drink, she began to speak again. “To make a long story
short, Mr. Bartender, I am here to find a sex partner for tonight.
Does that shock you ?”

“I wouldn’t say it shocks me,” he replied, “but it does
surprise me a little. You are a good looking woman – surely you
have a regular partner?”

She looked deep into his eyes. “I never said I didn’t have a
‘regular’. I guess I haven’t made myself clear concerning the –
depth – of my little affliction. For any normal woman, my sex life
would be considered more than adequate – maybe even fantastic. But
I can’t expect any one man to keep up with my current pace, without
using him to the point of physical exhaustion. Mind you, I am not
bragging. I would rather have my old libido back, believe me! Do
you think it’s fun to feel horny beyond words every waking hour? I
guarantee you, it’s no picnic. It even invades my sleep. When I am
not thinking about sex during the day, I am dreaming about it at

The bartender drew another deep breath. He looked around the
bar, noticing the empty glasses around him. He excused himself,
promising her that he would return shortly. As he busied himself
with refilling drinks and clearing out tabs, he glanced back at
Vodka Tonic. She had spun her barstool around, and was surveying
the room. He couldn’t help but to compare her with some sort of
bird of prey. She scanned the room, occasionally resting her gaze
for a few minutes. He could only assume that she was sizing up her

When the bartender finally returned to the woman’s place at
the bar, she turned back to talk to him. She flashed him a smile.
“I didn’t think you were coming back,” she remarked.

“Sorry for the delay, but things got a little busy. It should
start to wind down now – it’s getting pretty late,” he said,
glancing at the clock over the bar.

She looked down at her wristwatch. “I didn’t realize it was
getting so late. Good thing, though. I am starting to get
fidgety, if you catch my drift.”

He couldn’t have caught it any better with a catcher’s mitt.
After all she had told him, he figured she was about ready to come
right there on the barstool. He had to know if she had made her
choice yet. He was curious who the lucky guy was going to be.
That’s pretty presumptive, he thought to himself. She never did
mention the words man, male, or guy – for all he knew, she might
leave here with another woman. That did it. The bartender then
realized that this entire episode was making him feel pretty hot

He had to reach down and adjust himself – he was getting
excited, and had to relieve the pressure of his jeans, which were
becoming increasingly snug. He leaned over the bar, moving his
face near enough to feel her breath.

“Only another hour until last call, Vodka Tonic. Are you
going to fill me in who the lucky one is, or do I have to wait to
see for myself?”

She looked around the room, taking a deep breath. She turned
back to the bartender.

“The choice was made hours ago,” she said with a hint of a
smile. “Do you want to know who it is?”

He decided to keep himself in suspense. Teasing was one of
his favorite sexual pastimes, even if it was self-inflicted. “Just
give me a hint, and I’ll see of I can guess,” he said to her.

“Fair enough.” She looked around the bar for what seemed like
an eternity, then turned her gaze back to the bartender. Her eyes
had become glassy from her passion, and he felt himself becoming
almost dizzy from his own heat.

“Tonight, I will be having wild, lusty, passionate,
unadulterated sex with the last man left sitting at this bar.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. She hadn’t really chosen anyone
at all. She was leaving her choice to pure chance! This was one
lady who liked to live on the edge. He had realized during the
course of the evening that she was a different sort, but he was
still unprepared for this. He looked around the bar. The majority
of the crowd had filtered out, and there were maybe 20 people left
in the place. Most of the more eligible (spell that ‘attractive’)
people had already left with whom they came, and the singles had
paired off and gone home. He still was astounded that Vodka Tonic
was going to let fate decide whom she would sleep with that night.

It was almost closing. The bartender had filled the last of
the glasses, and had started cleaning up behind the bar. She
remained in her place at the bar, nursing the last of her Vodka
Tonic. He felt compelled to say something to her, to try to talk
her out of this.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this ?” he asked.
“You don’t exactly have the pick of the litter left here to choose
from. Maybe you should just take off now and forget this.”

She smiled a knowing smile at him. “Don’t worry,” she
whispered, “I know what I’m doing.”

Just then, the man she had talked to on the dance floor
earlier in the evening emerged, and sat at the opposite end of the
bar from her. He was very attractive, early 30’s, with sandy brown
hair, neat mustache, impeccably dressed.

Thank goodness, thought the bartender, hoping for her sake
that this fellow outlasted the drunks and other less than
desirables who were the last occupants sitting at the bar.

The bartender looked around nervously. This is silly, he
mused. Here he was, getting all upset for this woman that he
hardly knew, who was playing a game with rules she imposed upon
herself. Still, he couldn’t help but sigh in relief each time one
of the bar occupants departed, while the good looking guy in the
suit remained. It looked like Vodka Tonic was going to luck out
after all.

Just as he was about to announce that the bar was closing,
everyone except the woman got up and left the bar, including the
Suit. The bar was quiet.

The bartender shook his head, black bangs falling across his
eyes. He dried his hands one last time on the towel that was
tucked into the front of his jeans, and threw the towel onto the
bar. He lifted the bar gate, and walked around to the customers’
side of the bar, seating himself next to the its only other
occupant. She was still sipping on her last Vodka Tonic.

She turned to face him. She smiled at him again, and after
looking at her for a long moment, he finally spoke.

“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be tonight,” he said. “Bad
luck for you that everyone left before you had your chance to make
a move. It even looked like that good looking one in the suit was
going to be the ‘survivor’. Oh well, can’t win ’em all.”

She turned on her bar stool to face him. “Who says I haven’t
won?” she began. She leaned forward, putting a hand on each of his
thighs, giving them a firm squeeze. “I said I was going to have
the last man left sitting at this bar, and that’s exactly what I
plan to do.”

With that she leaned forward and kissed the bartender full on
the mouth. He was startled, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he
kissed her in return, his tongue entwining hers. It was a long,
deep, wet kiss. When they finally parted, he took her wrists in
his hands. “You had this planned all night, didn’t you ?” he

She ignored his question. She slid off the bar stool, and
stood a few feet away from him, looking him over from head to foot.
“Beautiful dark, shiny hair. Eyes the color of wild violets. A
wonderful body – great ass if you don’t mind my saying so.” She
walked closer to him once again. “You’re not going to ruin my
little fantasy night out, are you, Barkeep ?”

As if in answer to her question, he picked her up and carried
her over to the conversation area, where there were several couches
and chairs. He sat her down in one of the large easy chairs.
Parting her legs, he pushed her skirt up to her hips, exposing the
lacy top of a pair of black stockings, a garter belt, and matching
g-string. He slid his thumbs under her g-string, and gently
removed it.

Her breathing because quick and shallow. She looked into his
eyes, and he leaned to her to taste her mouth once more. This time,
the kiss was even more passionate, more urgent. She whispered in
a low voice to him. “You know what I need.” And he did.

Without another word, he buried his face between her legs,
tasting her. She was wetter than any woman he had ever been with,
and it excited him knowing that he was the cause of her wetness.
His tongue darted between her lips, flickering at the bud that was
blossoming inside. The woman threw her head back, her spine
arching. With his hands kneading into the soft flesh of her
thighs, he continued to lick and gently bite the center of her
womanhood. In a matter of minutes, she began to shudder and moan,
and with a gush of warm fluid like he had never tasted before or
since, she came in his mouth.

The bartender lifted his head to see her face. She was
breathing hard, but smiling.

“Well,” she said, “You are most certainly a good
listener. That was exactly what the doctor ordered.”

The bartender kissed her once again, still kneeling
between her knees. Her mouth flowed into his kiss, and she began
unbuttoning his shirt. She moved her hands up and down his firm
chest, scratching him ever so slightly with her long nails. His
kisses became more urgent, and she knew it was time to repay the
kind deed that he had just done for her.

She gently guided him to his feet. Still sitting on the edge
of the chair, she unbuttoned his jeans. She reached both of her
hands around to caress that ass she had been admiring all night.
Bringing her hands back to his fly, she carefully unzipped his
jeans, letting her hands linger on his obvious hardness. She
looked up as he threw his head back in anticipation of the ecstasy
he knew was yet to come.

She pulled his jeans down a bit, just enough to give her
better access to his straining cock. It felt hot to the touch,
causing a new heat to rise within her. She leaned forward and
carefully tasted the very tip of it. His entire body stiffened in

“Please, don’t tease me,” he managed to whisper.

“But I got the idea that you like a little teasing,” she
countered. She took another lick, a quick playful flick of her
tongue, as if she were tasting a lollipop.

“I do, I do, but….not……now !”. He could barely speak,
his voice coming in halted gasps.

Vodka Tonic complied and took most of his length into her
mouth, drawing him deliberately in and out. She dug her nails into
his firm ass cheeks as she continued her suctioning motion. When
she could feel and hear that he was on the brink, she released him.
He rested his hands on her shoulders, and his gaze met hers.

“I think it’s time we do something ……mutual,” she said to

She stood to face him, and they again locked in a kiss, now
filled with more urgency than before. They fell together onto one
of the couches, and continued kissing, open-mouthed and passionate.
He pushed his jeans the rest of the way off, and then began to work
on the buttons of her blouse. She was wearing a beautiful black
demi-cupped bra, which caused her ample bosom to form cleavage that
he would have willingly suffocated in. He put his face between her
breasts, and tasted her perfumed skin. He thought to himself, if
I die right now, I die a happy man.

He moved to position himself face-to-face with her, and
travelled up her neck with gentle love bites. He pressed his
toned body against hers, and they began to move together in a
rhythm that was both ancient and primal. The bartender still had
enough of his senses about him to speak up at this point, however,
and acted like a responsible lover.

“Do you have any….protection ?” he asked.

She reached to get her small clutch bag, which she had dropped
on the floor beside the sofa.

“I do indeed,” she said. She reached into the bag and found
what she was searching for. She handed him the cellophane packet
containing the condom. Then she held something else up for him to
see. It was a small gold ring -a wedding band. She looked him in
the eye and proceeded to put it on the ring finger of her left
hand, where it came to rest like it had every day for the past 12
years. The bartender took a breath, not quite sure what to make of
this development. She looked deep into his eyes.

“There is someone I think you should meet,” she began. She
took her eyes away from his, and looked past the bartender, back to
the bar. He turned his gaze to follow hers, and seated at the far
end of the bar, shrouded in the dim light and smokey haze, was the
man in the suit that he had seen earlier. The Suit was sitting
casually on a barstool, taking long drags on a cigarette. He
nodded in the bartender’s direction, as if to acknowledge his

“That,” she said in a throaty voice, “is my husband of the
last 12 years. He is the most wonderful man in the world, and I
love him more than life itself. It was his idea that I experience
sex outside the confines of our marriage. Until last year, he was
the one and only man I had ever made love with, and when my libido
went into overdrive, it was he who suggestion that variety might
satiate my…..hunger. He gave me certain guidelines that I must
follow, however. First, I must practice safe sex, for obvious
reasons. Second, he chooses my partners. So you see, my dear, you
have just received the ultimate compliment – another man thought
you worthy to make love to the woman he loves. Thirdly, he is
allowed to watch the proceedings. It has always been one of his
fantasies to see me with another man. And finally, no names are
exchanged and each partner is a one-nighter…..this is just sex,
not a relationship. Pretty simple rules, and everyone goes home

The bartender paused to let all this sink in. There was a
time when something like this might have caused him to come down,
to loose interest. But after spending the evening talking to this
woman, then tasting her and being tasted by her, he knew he was at
the point of no return.

Without a word, he opened the cellophane wrapper containing
the condom. He took his cock in his hand, and gave it a few slow
strokes, his eyes closing. He heard her release a slow breath, and
he thought, looks like her husband isn’t the only one who likes to
watch. He rolled the condom on, then pressed his body against hers
once again. He put his mouth to hers, drawing her tongue into his
hot mouth. She eagerly returned his kiss, and put her hands around
his hips, pressing him tightly to her. He nuzzled at her breasts,
took his pulsating hardness into his hand, and guided it between
her legs.

He began pushing against her slowly, to give her time to
accommodate him. She moved her hips forward as if in greeting, and
his entire length disappeared inside her warm wetness. They began
to move in rhythm again, as if in time to an unseen drum. She
took his head in her hands, and looked him straight in the eyes as
they made love, running her hands through his hair. God, this
feels incredible, he thought silently. Even before it was over he
was beginning to mourn the fact that this was the one and only time
he would ever get to experience this woman. He felt drawn to her,
not just physically, but emotionally as well. It surprised him to
have these feelings. After all, wasn’t it usually the man that
just wanted raw sex, and the woman who needed and wanted more?

The bartender continued to look deep into her eyes as he felt
the familiar sensations that signaled the beginning of his climax.
He thrust deeply into her, and she pulled him closer. Their
passion ignited, and it felt to each as if they couldn’t get close
enough to each other. He felt her walls tighten around him,
sending him over the edge. She moaned and writhed beneath him, her
own orgasm washing over her in great waves, like a storm on the

Minutes passed, and they lay still, arms still encircling one
another. Once his breathing returned to a more normal rate, he
stood up and gathered his clothes. She rose also, and they began
to dress, facing opposite directions. They turned to face each
other once again, for the last time. She reached out to touch his
cheek with the palm of her hand, and gently pulled his face to
hers. She placed a soft kiss on his lips, then turned to leave.

The bartender took her hand, and pulled her back around to
face him. He studied her eyes one last time, and paused, as if he
were gathering his thoughts to say something very important.

“Goodbye.” His mind was so flooded with thoughts and emotions,
that this one word was all he could bring to his lips.

She smiled one last time, gave his hand a firm squeeze, and
walked away. In the hazy half-light of the room, the bartender
watched her return to the bar to join her husband. She put her arms
around his neck, and they held each other tightly, exchanging no
words. With his arm around her waist, and hers around his, they
left the building.

He sat at the bar, lazily stirring what was left of his drink
with a straw. The bartending shift had just changed, and he was
still waiting for someone to give him a refill. Finally, the tall
blonde with the dancing eyes and bright smile came to take his

“Hey, Good-lookin’, what do you want ?” she asked cheerfully.

He looked up from his drink, violet eyes peering from under
feathery black bangs. He summoned the only two words he could
possibley have in answer to her question.

“Vodka Tonic.”

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