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"Do me", she murmured as she slid the tip of her wet tongue into my ear. Her breasts compressed on either side of my arm and her pussy pressed into my hip. I must have been concentrating very intently on my beer and the similarities between Osama bin Laden and my ex-wife - they have a lot in common - to have not noticed her approach.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the wash of her wet tongue, those two little words, and her proximity. My whole body tingled; she was turning me on. Blood rushed to my cock, which expanded noticeably. I had not even laid eyes, or anything else, on her and I was getting hard already. Two little words and a touch. That's all it took. What a pick up line! If a guy tried it, forget it. Wham, bam, fuck you man!

"Keep your eyes closed," she purred, very close. The odor of mint mixed with a minor undercurrent of alcohol and... something else very pleasant wafted by my nose. I breathed deeply and enjoyed her fragrance. What was the scent? What was it called? Organza? Orgazma? Something like that. Did I know anyone who smelled like this? No. I would remember.

She moved in close on my right. I could feel her breasts mold around my upper arm making my lower muscle enlarge once again. I could tell quite a bit from her close proximity. She was definitely not flat-chested, far from it, but they weren't monsters, either. They were perfect, from my limited perspective. I could tell that she was not hefty either; there was definitely a waist. She was 5'6 give or take an inch. My imagination filled in the rest and did quite a nice job, if I say so myself.

I jumped in my seat a little as I felt her unexpectedly brush my semi-hard-on lightly with her fingernails. The little guy jumped and grew even more, making me distinctly uncomfortable. I heard her moan, "Mmmmm... I like a man who shows his interest quickly. Not too quick, though. Hmmm? It looks like you have a slight problem." she paused. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you." All this in a very feminine, yet husky voice that would have made a 976 girl envious. I didn't reply. It was her show.

We were in a noisy, well-frequented tavern. The pounding bass from the music was making the beer mugs quiver on the bar. The mugs were not the only things pounding and quivering around here.

People were packed in everywhere. You had to shout to make yourself heard, unless you were talking right in their ear. I bet nobody noticed what we, or should I say she, was up to. Ok, nor what I was up to, either, and I was up quite a bit, thank you.

Both of my forearms were resting on the edge of the bar with my hands around my mug. I left them there waiting to see what else she would do. I wondered if she was after my wallet. Fine by me - this would be worth it. There wasn't much in there anyway. I had the feeling though that she was not after money. I thought she was after bigger, harder game.

I was curious as to why she chose me and what she looked like and whether it mattered. So many questions, but I was in no rush to get answers. This was obviously her fantasy. I felt like seeing what I could do to help. I'm a very helpful guy.

She teased Johnson for what seemed an eternity; a couple of minutes anyway. Back and forth with the nails, up and down the shaft through the pants, lightly, then hard, in an irregular pattern, with an occasional rub and a squeeze now and then. She grasped it firmly and rubbed back and forth inside the confines of my pants. I could feel a little pre-cum make it slick. She was good. What a tease. I loved it.

As Johnny reached full size, he was cramped and she could tell. I felt more than heard my zipper moving downward slowly so as not to make too much noise... like it mattered. I cleared my throat lightly.

"Nobody's looking," she assured me with her husky alto voice. "Keep your eyes closed."

I squirmed anyway. This was getting pretty kinky and I had a feeling it was not over. I could end it at any time. I knew it and she knew it. It was beginning to feel like a sexy game of chicken. How appropriate, given she now had a death grip on my rock hard pecker. How far would she go? How far would I let her go? I honestly did not know at that moment.

She continued to stroke my pulsing erection through my thin silk boxers. "Oooohhhh, I think I am in love," she cooed softly right at the entrance of my ear as she felt the smoothness under her fingertips. Her lips caressed my ear lobe as she spoke.

I uttered my first sound, totally without conscious control. "Unnnnhhhh".

"He isn't mute!" she laughed softly into my ear. Considerate of her.

She only thought she was in love. I was. I was harder than a bar of titanium; harder than I had ever been in my life and I wanted it to last forever. Now I was in a quandary. Should I reciprocate? I decided that I should, but timing was everything. It had to be obvious to her that I appreciated her attentions, so I assumed that she was not affronted. No need to return her favors just yet. But I decided that being closer to the bar might be a good idea. I scooched up with a quick movement that caught her by surprise.

She giggled in a little girl kind of way. That giggle made me think that she was not out of her early twenties yet. Old enough to drink obviously, that was good. Her voice sounded quite mature though, an interesting contrast. Not too young for me. Pushing it maybe, but not too young. I took a wild guess that any age difference that might exist did not matter to her.

I wondered what her name was. I decided to name her for my own memories. Hmm, Kathy. Nah. Kiki. Nope. Katy? Not bad. Nah. Ummmm, Kelly. Sure, I'll call her Kelly. I liked that name. Why the K's I wondered with a part of my brain that was somewhat detached from the rest of my body. Weird feeling, kind of like an out of body experience. I was visualizing the experience from the outside and somewhat above, looking down watching what was happening to me... no, to us.

The bartender came by, "Everything ok? Want anything." I did not say anything. She replied, "Fine" in a drawn out kind of way that made me think a wink was involved.

I heard a small snort from the bartender. "Mint Julip" my Kelly drawled with a touch of southern in the mix. I already knew she was a talented girl. A few moments later, I heard a glass set in front of us. There was a pause. "I'm taking care of him," she told the barkeep obviously in response to a look.

'Too true. Too true.' I thought.

I lifted my glass with my left arm and took a much-needed drink without opening my eyes. I was parched and had not even realized it. I felt her release Johnny and heard her take a drink as well. My hearing seemed to be improving despite the cacophony around us. It seemed that all the people and the noise were in another compartment, another world entirely. There was just this lovely mystery woman and I, having sex, of a sort.

What to do? What to do? While I was trying to decide, Kelly took all thought away, only sensation remained. Her fingers returned to my boxers. This time instead of infuriatingly tracing her fingers up and down my shaft, she went for the gusto or whatever. She reached in, separated the flaps and grasped the meat. Her cold hand on my hot cock sent shock waves straight to the pleasure centers of my mind.

I nearly fell off my chair as I jumped from my seat, spilling a little bit of beer in the process. She had her left arm around my shoulder and silently encouraged me to sit down again. I'm an obliging fellow, as I told you before, so I sat down with her hand still firmly attached to my throbbing organ. If she did anything with that hand, I was going to shoot. Either we were lucky or she could tell from the way it was jumping in her palm. She just let her quickly warming hand rest on Johnson 'til he calmed down a bit. This was the most delightful torment I had ever experienced.

I decided that now it was definitely time to reciprocate... or was it retaliate. I started to slip my right arm down off the bar nonchalantly, left hand still on the mug. She said nothing. I figured she agreed that it was time for a little action in return. You know a goose for the gander, tit for twat, so to speak.

I could feel the outside of my arm slide gently over her hip and thigh as I let it drop to hang between us. I felt some light rustling and figured there must be a dress or skirt involved. She moved in closer and I could feel her legs on either side of my forearm. Warm... very, very warm on my forearm near the elbow. I reached between her legs feeling the long, loose, lightweight skirt part. I placed my hand on bare flesh.