Sports Bar Seduction

"Howdy stranger," a familiar voice greeted him as soon as he entered. He turned toward the direction of the sound.

"Hi...," he croaked and cleared his throat, "...Hi Katie." A figure began to emerge from the gloom. At first it appeared as a shapeless pattern of white in the blackness but gradually it began to take form as it grew nearer. It coalesced into a curvy woman with hips swaying sexily in time to her confident stride. Finally, the familiar features of Katie's face became clear. Harold's eyebrow's lifted as he realized that she was already naked.

Not quite naked,he corrected himself after a moment when he realized she still wore a tiny black thong. When she stopped advancing, she gave a little toss of her long tresses, cocked a hip sideways and placed a hand on it.

"I knew you'd be back Harry," she grinned mischievously at him.

"I...I," he half-stammered, feeling somehow insulted by her blithe assumption and trying to come up with a defense even as he realized he could hardly deny the charge.

"I just came to look," he finally retorted, voice trailing off as he realized how lame a defense it was.

"That's fine," she agreed equably as she moved closer to him and fixed him with her uncanny gaze. Her arms encircled him in a fluid motion and she pressed her chest against his. He could feel the deliciously soft-yet-firm pillows of her breasts swelling against him and her slightly harder nipples poked him through his shirt. Her full lips advanced toward his own and he found himself transfixed, unable to resist. To his surprise and relief, they swerved aside at the last moment and she pressed them against his ear instead.

"Nice boys like you can never resist us naughty women." It came out in a sultry whisper and then she abruptly released him. Her hand grasped his and she began pulling him deeper into the restaurant, speaking in a brisk, business-like voice.

"Ground rules: you sit in the chair. No touching, no talking unless I ask you a question." She paused to reach over the bar and the music started before guiding him toward a chair positioned in almost exactly the same way it had been the night before. "The dance ends when I say it ends. No premature climaxes tonight Harry," she finished sternly and gave him a playful shove just as he began to flush with embarrassment. He flopped backward into the chair with an ungainly sprawl but before he could sit up straighter she leaped gracefully on to his lap and straddled him once more. Then she began to dance.

Tonight's dance contained all the features from the night before only heavier and steamier if that was possible. He sat there, unresisting, his erection straining against the confines of his pants and occasionally against the thrusting heat of her barely-covered womanhood. He said nothing as she playfully slapped her breasts against his face and he barely restrained the intense urge her to reach out and grasp them. As she gyrated on his lap he had the opportunity to examine her tattoo more closely. The artwork consisted of a hand-sized, stylized, sexy rabbit. The woman-rabbit brandished an old fashioned pocket watch and sported a top hat with an eight of hearts stuck in the brim. The mesmerizing motions of her smooth belly ceased as she turned and straddled him backwards, granting him an unobstructed view of the straining muscles of her tight ass and rare, tantalizing peeks at the sides of her swaying breasts.

She twisted off of him, falling to her knees between his legs and began rubbing the bulge in his pants with a long-fingered hand.

"These pants seem soconfiningHarry, I'm sure you want me to take them off."

No!His mind screamed and he started to open his mouth. Her hand left his groin and she pressed her palm firmly over his lips.

"Shh, that was a statement, not a question Harry." Her other hand resumed her previous stroking. She locked her gaze with his and waited until the defiance bled out of his eyes once more, subsumed by her will and the pleasure of her onslaught. The restraining hand left his mouth and went to his belt buckle. Within seconds, deft fingers had undone his belt and buttons and she grasped the waistband with both hands.

"Lift," she commanded simply and he complied by lifting his bum briefly off the bench. To his surprise she took both his pants and his underwear down in a single pull and his erection sprang upward into the cool air of the bar. "Ooh," she cooed, allowing a wicked grin to spread across her face, "Nice guys withbigcocks, my favorite combination. You're wife is a lucky woman."

The reminder of his wife caused him to immediately flush with shame and he began to protest as his conscience briefly battered free of the chains he had wrapped around it.

"Katie I can't..."

She cut him off once more, slapping her hand across his mouth even more forcefully and grasping the base of his cock firmly with her other hand. "Don't feel guilty Harry. You're wife is a greedy, selfish bitch if she won't share your amazing cock. Besides, she probably only puts out for you twice a month and you have needs."

Harold's attempts to speak through her restraining hand ceased instantly as the uncannily accurate insult went home.

"I'm not a bitch Harry. I'm just a slut. I'm a slut who wants to suck your cock. And you're going to let me." She removed her hand from his mouth, lifted his hard-on and leaned in. The tip of her tongue tickled the base of his cock and then ascended, leaving a thin trail of cold wetness all the way up its length until she reached the tip. Her tongue swirled around the tip, pressing more forcefully with each revolution until he groaned with pleasure. At last her lips closed around his head and began to slowly slide down the shaft. Slowly, so slowly she engulfed him until she had taken most of his length and he felt himself pressing against the tight confines of her throat for a few moments before she began to pull back equally slowly.

The blow job seemed to last for hours and her eyes rarely left his, scintillating with desire as she brought him closer and closer to climax. There was no comparison between Katie's expert manipulation of his member and the toothy, unenthusiastic efforts his wife had given him during the first few months of his marriage – and never since. Her mouth was wetter and more alive than any vagina.

"You have permission to tell me when you are ready to cum Harry." She paused only briefly to inform him before continuing to suck him off. Whether it was the suggestion or simply the inevitable product of her consummate skill, the sensation in his loins rapidly escalated and he felt himself passing the point of no return.

"I...I'm gonna cum!" He gasped desperately at a moment when she had nearly bottomed out on him, but her response was no panicked rearing back of her head. As before she pulled back slowly, deliberately, her green eyes daring him to cum inside her mouth. He felt his seed beginning to lurch forward inexorably and his muscles began to tense. Her mouth came off him and she ran her tongue suggestively around her full lips before leaning slowly back. She folded a forearm across her magnificent bust, pressing her tits together and upward and aimed his cock right at her cleavage.

"Gaaaaahhhhh!" The chair rattled wildly against the wooden floor as his hips bucked upward convulsively. His knuckles blanched white clutching his seat as spurt after spurt of his cum spattered onto her chest in huge gobbets. Finally his tensed muscles began to relax as the stream of seed exhausted itself and he sagged back into the chair. Her grip relaxed on his softening member and yet still she held his gaze, as she had throughout his orgasm. He broke away at last, looking instead at the mess of white he had painted onto her chest and watching his semen slowly slide down onto the shelf of her breasts and into the crack between.

She released him and started to rise, arm still holding back her tits.

"Well Harry," she said calmly, "that was such a marvelous romp. Idohope you enjoyed it. I hope you won't mind if I go wash up," she leaned forward, showing him his handiwork again and he could smell the musky odor of his juices mixed with her sweat. "If I might be so bold, I'd suggest you do the same." She gestured at his rapidly shrinking penis and he noticed that not all of his emissions had ended up on Katie. With that she disappeared, leaving him numb, and shocked, and high on the afterglow of his incredible orgasm.

He rose shakily from his chair and had to steady himself for a moment before hitching up his pants with one hand and staggering off to the men's room without bothering to button them. The polished granite and wood interior of the bathroom was immaculate and a faint scent of aftershave and soap lingered in the air. Harold made his way to one of the stalls and began cleaning himself off with some toilet paper. While he cleaned up, guilt and fear began to sprinkle through the weakening barrier of his arousal like the first droplets of a tropical deluge. His dabs and strokes became more hurried as the full downpour descended. His breathing quickened and his stomach congealed into a ball of ice as the full implications of his actions began to assail him. When he finished securing his belt and began to turn to exit the stall he saw a stack of papers on the back of the toilet seat.

Tired of being captive to your sinful desires? God has the answer!

Revival Community Church

Join us for worship Sundays at 10:00 and be set free.

This exhortation was followed by the address and contact details of the church. He couldn't think of a better description of what had just happened to him in that chair than being held captive by his desires. Reflexively he snatched a pamphlet from the back of the toilet and stuffed it into his pocket before exiting the bathroom. The speakers were quiet, and Katie was nowhere to be seen when he entered the main area of the restaurant, for which he was profoundly grateful. He didn't think he could face her at the moment. He quickly found the main entrance and exited into the dark, dark night.

Three days later Harold sat in the dimness of his cheap hotel room as he tried to focus on his work. Saturdays on the road were always bad, with nothing to do but work, but he knew the sooner he finished the sooner he could go home so he pressed on. Of coursethistrip he had a lot more on his mind than usual. Over the past three days his shame and fear had hardened into decision. Whatever foolishness he had gotten himself into, he wasnever, evergoing to go back down that road again. Nor was he going to tell a living soul about what had happened as long as he lived. He had even altered his driving route to the hotel so as not to take him past that evil place.

He had begged God for forgiveness and then taken his guilt and packed it away in a deep, dark part of his soul where he hoped it could simply be forgotten. Of course the memories of Katie still returned from time to time. They weren't memories of her body this time, but rather recollections of her unearthly green eyes and the will they contained: the will which had kept him pinned to his seat while he betrayed everything he believed in. Those thoughts caused him to shudder in horror rather than to flush with desire.

About a day after his encounter with Katie he had broken the news to his wife that they might be moving to this new city. She had been stunned, upset, and subsequently she had been just a bit demanding and needy. His guilt, however, had driven him to lean into her neediness. He had been available, caring, perhaps even a little bit doting and she seemed to be getting over the shock to some extent. He returned his attention to the assessment on his laptop screen when he was interrupted once more by the vibration of his cell phone on the desk. He picked it up and read the text message.

Have you visited any churches there yet baby?

I was going to check one out tomorrow.He tapped the reply into the phone and waited.

Good, tell me how it goes love.

Of course dear.

Call me tonight?

Of course dear.

He set the phone down on his desk but no sooner had he released it when it buzzed again. He suppressed a sigh of frustration, reminding himself just how much he owed his wife for the secret she would never know about.

I miss you Harry!

He frowned at the unusual phrasing. His wifenevercalled him Harry, then his stomach began to sink as he noticed the unfamiliar number at the top of the message. An unfamiliar number with a local area code. His mind began to race and he growled with anger as he remembered the way she had handled his phone to look at his wife's picture the first time he met her. It could onlybeher. She reallywasa bitch. The phone buzzed in his hand.

I'm not a bitch Harry, I'm a slut.His eyes widened as she seemed to read his mind. Another message popped up.

...a bored, horny slut who wants your cock sooo bad.Before he could contemplate that message for more than a few seconds a picture flashed up on the screen. He dropped the phone in horror as the oh-so-familiar pair of breasts appeared, pressed lewdly against a pane of smoked glass. His phone continued to vibrate as if possessed on the floor as picture after picture downloaded. A nude, very feminine ass pressed against the same glass. The same picture only pressed up more firmly with the silhouette of the person beyond leaning slightly forward. A third picture: the person now bent all the way forward and pressed so firmly against the glass that the lips of her vagina were clearly visible. Finally the pictures were replaced by text once more and a fist of iron gripped his heart even as he felt the blood rushing to his groin in spite of it.

Iwantyou Harry. Just tell me where you are and I'll come for you.

He picked up the phone with shaking hands and held it at arm's length as he inputted a reply.

Please, just leave me alone!

I'll never leave you alone Harry. Your bitch doesn't deserve you. I'm going to find you...

The phone went silent at last and he hurled it onto the bed. He hurried into the bathroom and took an icy shower. When he returned to the bedroom he felt a little bit more calm. He picked up the phone and was relieved to see that no further messages had arrived. Then the phone buzzed and his heart sank.

Don't forget to go to church tomorrow!

His fear immediately turned to anger as he recognized his wife's number and he had to take another few minutes to calm himself. He spent the rest of the night figuring out how to block numbers on his phone and how to very, very permanently delete pictures and text messages. Unfortunately whatever idiot had designed that function had made it so you had tolookat the pictures in question in order to delete them. Harold slept poorly that night.

Harold pulled into the packed parking lot of Revival Community Church about ten minutes after ten o'clock in the morning. He hadn't fallen truly asleep until the wee hours of the morning the night before and even then his rest had been fitful. In the midst of all that had happened, he had forgotten to set an alarm or research a church. As he had hurriedly dressed at about nine-thirty he had remembered the pamphlet now sitting under a pile of change on his nightstand. Not having any better ideas, he had set out for Revival Community Church. Now, as he hurried toward the front door of the unfamiliar church, he was just hoping that God would speak to him in spite of everything he had done.

The elderly greeters were friendly and one of them directed him to an open spot on the end of a middle pew in the otherwise nearly full church. The standing congregation was in the midst of a familiar hymn as Harold slipped into the indicated seat and joined his voice to the chorus. He sang heartily and as the song came to a close another person slid into the row next to him.

"You may be seated," intoned the worship leader as the final notes of the hymn faded.

Harold plopped gratefully onto the plushly upholstered bench only to frown a few seconds later as his new companion tried to squeeze his, no definitelyherhips in next to his own. Apparently the church had been full indeed or else the usher had misjudged how many people were seated in this pew. Unfortunately Harold was already fairly firmly up against his other neighbor and though he tried he couldn't make much more room. She finally managed to wedge herself in but only by pressing herself against him from knee to hip. Another song began as his body notified him that his neighbor wasn't just a her, but an extremelyshapelyher. Given his recent experiences he stomped on that thought firmly but with the constant reminder of her presence it was hard to extinguish it completely.

The organ struck up another familiar hymn and Harold began to sing along. In spite of himself he glanced down at the legs next to him and was shocked to discover that they were very nearly bare, covered only by a tiny floral pattern skirt. Something familiar had just begun tickling at the back of his brain when he felt a lock of long hair brush against the side of his face.

"Good morning Harry," Katie husked into his ear above the drone of the organ. If Harold hadn't been wedged in so tightly he probably would have sprung out of his seat. As it was, he stiffened and his heart began to pound. Adrenaline flooded his system. Unfortunately blood also began to flood to another part of his body in a most unhelpful way. She didn't say anything else to him. She didn't have to when she had come upon him so unexpectedly and was practically sitting on top of him. He felt his hard-on growing and growing as the song wended its way toward completion. He glanced down, relieved that the bulge was barely visible but knowing that if he had to stand it would be far less subtle. The hymn ended.

"Please take a moment to stand and greet one another."

Dutifully, Harold rose, not sure of whether to be worried someone would notice his little problem or relieved that he was no longer shoved up against Katie. Of course his relief was short-lived as Katie stood up also and wrapped an arm possessively around his waist. He tried to pull away but there was nowhere to move. The elderly couple in front of them turned around smiling and the man extended his hand.

"Hi I'm Harold Mazakis," he shook the man's hand firmly, trying to sound normal.

"Tom Arnold," the man replied. As Harold reached out to shake the woman's hand Katie extended her hand and shook the man's hand as well.

"Katherine Mazakis," she burbled and Harold felt his eyes widen.What in the world?

To his even greater surprise and horror Tom's eyes flicked ever so briefly down to Katie's skirt and he gave Harold a conspiratorial grin.

"How long have you two dears been married?" The elderly woman asked, seemingly oblivious to the exchange. Before Harold could answer, Katie replied,

"Just a few days!"

"Ah, newlyweds," the man smiled. "I hope your honeymoon was nice," he went on and the look that crossed his face was not entirely appropriate for church.

"I'm sure it will be," Katie agreed and the woman's face took on a puzzled expression. Harold was spared any further embarrassment, however, as the preacher finally rose to start the sermon. He soon found himself sandwiched next to Katie in the pew once more. She grasped his hand and pulled it firmly into her lap, placing it right on top of her bare thigh.

"Well folks, as you know we are right in the middle of a series on the godly marriage. I've got good news for you. We've finally gotten to the good part." He smiled broadly and continued to speak. Meanwhile, Harold tried hard to focus on the words and not the silky thigh under his palm. He also tried to extricate his hand from Katie's grip, but she grasped him more firmly and he couldn't struggle any harder without drawing attention to them, which was the last thing he wanted to do.