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The Stranger in the Bar

123

It was a regular Wednesday night for most people. The May air was unseasonably warm, and all over the city couples took advantage of the pleasant night to go out. A light breeze carried the salty smell of the ocean with it, blowing gently across the streets.

It wasn't a regular night for Melody, however. It was a night of celebration. It was the night that marked the end of Melody's time at college. After four years of studying elementary education, she had submitted the final draft of her bachelor's thesis that very afternoon. Almost ninety thousand in debt, more expensive books than she knew what to do with, and no semblance of a social life later, she had finally reached the end of her student years. Of course, the thesis might get rejected—which she doubted—or they discovered she was missing some credits—which she was sure she didn't—but overall, the brunt of her work was completed.

To celebrate this momentous event, Melody's best friend, Grace, dragged her out to a bar. Melody had whined and complained a lot, at first, but Grace kept badgering her until she relented. Grace's overall motto had been: "You've been cooped up in your apartment for way too long, you need some serious dicking to relieve all that stress."

Melody didn't necessarily disagree with that. She had taken her studies seriously, and that left her with very little time to, as Grace liked to call it, "slut around." Grace, who graduated with the same major a year before Melody, had no such problems. It seemed like there wasn't a week that went by where Grace didn't gush about her latest conquests.

Their destination on that Wednesday night was The Curfew, a moderately upscale bar in their neighborhood. Despite Grace's motives, Melody wasn't planning to be there to pick up guys. She just wanted a nice, quiet night, with her best friend, getting drunk to celebrate to end of her school years, and the start of her career.

It felt like decades since the last time Melody had dressed up to go out, but fortunately, her friend was there to help. Grace picked out sexy, black briefs, and a scandalously short, midnight blue miniskirt. The outfit was completed by a white tank top, and a denim jacket, just in case the night turned out to be colder than anticipated.

According to Grace, wearing a bra was a mortal sin, and there was no way Melody would ever manage it in life if she kept hiding "those puppies." At some point, Melody gave up arguing, and just let Grace take over completely. It wasn't that she was ashamed of her body, but she didn't have the time to go to the gym as much as she liked. Months of neglect, combined with a love for cheap junk food, had left her with a body that was more plump than fit. Grace insisted that she was curvaceous, and that guys would go crazy over her large tits, but Melody envied her friend's slim, toned physique.

The one thing Melody truly loved about herself was her long, waist length, ash blonde hair. She took good care of it, spending more money than she should have on excellent products. It was smooth, and when the sun hit it just right, even shimmered. To her, it was worth the additional time every day. Grace, on the other hand, kept hers short: "So those brats can't pull on it."

After they finished dressing up for the bar, Melody thought she looked more like an expensive hooker than a soon-to-be respectable elementary teacher. Grace had even forced three inch heels on her, completing the look. Her friend's outfit was much simpler, and consisted of skinny jeans, and a simple, red, sleeveless blouse. Covering Grace's dark curls was a knitted beanie. Melody's mother had knitted it as a Christmas present three years ago.

During the short drive to the bar, the male Uber driver snuck more than one obvious glance at the two of them, and Melody wondered what he must have been thinking. Probably that he had just been giving a ride to two high end hookers. He dropped them off in front of The Curfew, and Melody caught him staring at her ass when she exited the SUV. She actually enjoyed the attention, and discovered how much she had missed the dating life.

"So, have you changed your mind yet about wanting to hook up?" asked Grace, standing in front of the brick facade of the bar.

"No, I'd much rather have a quiet night out," Melody insisted, although she was less sure of that than before.

Grace shrugged, and responded, "Are you sure? That Uber guy was checking you out the entire time."

"How do you know he wasn't looking at you?" Melody countered.

"Honey, he wasn't looking at my ass when I got out of the car." As if to emphasize her point, Grace quickly pinched Melody's ass, causing her to yelp.

"Hey!" she protested. "What's gotten into you?"

"Dressed up like you are, I feel like I'm kinda your pimp, tonight," Grace giggled.

"You are most definitely not."

"Just watch out, or I'm gonna sell you to the first guy who asks. Five bucks for your pussy, ten for your ass."

"I told you, I'm not interested in 'slutting around' tonight. I just wanna get hammered, ok?"

"Speaking of, let's go."

They entered The Curfew, and Melody looked around the joint. She'd been in the bar a few times before, although not nearly as often as Grace. The place was dimly lit, providing a rather cozy atmosphere. The bar took up most of one side of the room, providing ample seating space at the counter. For a Wednesday night, it was actually pretty full, but on any other night it would have been considered empty. Soft jazz music played in the background, softening the buzz of conversation.

"Hey, D," Grace greeted the bartender.

The bartender, Dustin, was an older gentlemen, in every sense of the word. He co-owned The Curfew, and had been serving drinks for longer than Melody lived in the city. As far as she was aware, Dustin had worked in the bar his entire life. Well dressed, well kempt, with graying hair, he greeted the two of us with a cheerful smile.

"Nice to see ya again, girls. The usual?"

Melody was surprised he even remembered her, but attributed it to the virtue of being friends with Grace—popular by association. She didn't even remember herself what she had ordered the last time.

"Yeah," announced Grace.

"No," disagreed Melody. "I'd like a pina colada."

"And a double rainbow for each of us," added Grace. "We're celebrating tonight."

Melody didn't even have time to ask what the hell a double rainbow was supposed to be, and decided to just let herself be surprised. Grace seemed to be making all the decisions anyway, she might as well make another one.

"Oh? What's the occasion?"

"Melody here just finished college," revealed Grace. As she talked, she grabbed me by the shoulders, and turned me towards Dustin. If it had been anybody but her, I would have assumed it was innocent, but the way she pressed into my back, making me subtly push out my tits was no accident. Fortunately, Dustin truly was a gentleman, and pretended not to notice.

"Oh that's wonderful," he boomed with a genuine smile, reminding Melody of her own grandfather. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you," squeaked Melody.

"Your rainbows are on me," he announced grandly.

"Thanks, D, you're the best."

Dustin turned around, pulling bottles off the shelf, and the two women went off, searching for a place to sit. There were many options available, and they ultimately settled on the stools at the end of the bar. It was far away from everyone else, and the closest thing to a private booth the bar offered.

Melody's heels tapped softly on the carpeted floor, and she admired the rows of colorful bottles standing behind the bar. She took the second-to-last stool available, just around the corner of the counter, with a great overview of the entire bar, and the doors to the bathrooms at her back. Grace sat down on the other side of the corner, and it was like they had their own little private table between them.

"Here's your double rainbow," announced Dustin, who had finished the drinks in record speed, and placed two tall, thin glasses on the counter.

"Cheers, D," thanked him Grace, while Melody marvelled at the mixture.

The glasses were filled with an incredible array of colors. At the bottom was a layer of red, followed by orange, yellow, including all the colors of the rainbow, until it finally ended with a layer of purple, topped by a dash of whipped cream. Melody dragged one glass closer, inspecting the veritable work of art.

"Wow," was all she managed to comment.

"It's wicked, isn't it?" Grace asked. "And now you have to drink it all in one go."

"What? That seems like kind of a waste."

"Trust me, you'll love it." They picked up their glasses, and Grace toasted. "To the end of college!"

"The end of college," echoed Melody.

She tipped the drink back, and drank it all down. The alcohol burned in her throat, and she had to fight not to cough, but she managed it. Grace slammed the empty glass down on the counter, and let out a joyful whoop. Melody was slower, and far less spirited, setting it down on the wood with a clink.

The first thing she tasted was blueberry, or was it strawberry? Or orange? Melody could taste hints of all of them, intermingling inside of her mouth. She burped, and tasted the entire fruit basket at once.

"You like it?" inquired Grace.

"Jesus, that's amazing."

"Now that's what I like to hear. It's my signature drink," piped up Dustin, who sidled over, and set down their drinks. A large, milky white pina colada, complete with umbrella, and straw for Melody, and a double rum and coke for Grace.

"I keep telling you, if you market this, you could take over the world," complimented Grace, and Melody silently agreed.

"But then where would I be, locked away in some fancy mansion? I wouldn't be able to hang out with pretty young things like you, anymore."

"Oh stop it, D, you're making me wet," flirted Grace subtly.

Melody couldn't help but giggle, the alcohol seemed to have rushed straight to her head. The general rule, when on a night out with Grace, was that she aggressively hit on anything that moved, and had a cock. Well, anything that had a cock, at least. Melody suspected that if she ever took Grace to a museum, she'd hit on the greek statues.

"How much alcohol was in those things?" asked Melody, after Dustin left to serve a group of guys that had just arrived.

"Enough to liberate your inner slut."

"I don't have an inner slut," complained Melody. "I only have an outer slut, and that's you."

"Oh, come on, when was the last time you got laid?"

Melody furrowed her brows, and tried to recall the event. It had definitely been before Christmas, maybe even before Thanksgiving. Or had it been before midterms? Frank had been his name. Grace had actually been the one to introduce the two of them, and they dated for about three weeks. He was great in the sack, with a nice, thick, seven inch cock, but that had been his only good quality. Outside of bed, he had been incredibly boring, and never wanted to do anything. He'd just lie on the couch, and watch TV all day, if he could.

"See? You can't even remember the last time," taunted Grace.

"I can, too. It was Frank," she shot back defiantly.

"Frank? Oh puh-leeze! That was ages ago. Are you telling me you haven't been laid since then?" Grace seemed almost disgusted by the idea that someone could go more than a week without sex.

"There's always Brad," Melody defended herself.

Grace snorted loudly, because Brad was not a person. Brad was the nickname for her favorite vibrator, named after her childhood crush. She accidentally let the name slip during a different night out, and Grace had teased her relentlessly about it for a long time, before it evolved to their inside joke.

"Seriously, you should have seen Joe's dick, it—"

"Who's Joe?" interrupted Melody, not really in the mood to hear about dicks.

"Joe. The guy I was with, last weekend. I told you about him, remember?"

Melody took a sip of her pina colada, and found it to be excellent, albeit on the strong side. Grace had already half finished her rum and coke, but unlike Melody, she was used to heavy drinking.

"No, I don't. You sleep with so many guys, I can't be expected to keep track of them all," Melody teased her friend.

"Hah! Anyway, he had a huge cock, and I mean huge! It had to be at least nine inches, and this big," she fawned, making a circle about the size of a can of coke with her fingers, and almost knocked over her drink in the process. "I bet if he plowed you, you wouldn't be content with Brad."

"Why is it always about sex with you, anyway? I just want a nice, quiet night out," Melody whined.

She knew better, though. Grace seemed to have an insatiable sex drive, and their nights out always devolved into filthy bedroom talk. Not that she minded too much, though. Some of her stories were quite interesting, and often funny. It allowed her to live vicariously through her friend's experiences, while she had focused her own time on her studies.

"Because life is all about sex. It's human nature. It's what makes the world go round," explained Grace in a serious tone.

"Uh huh. Is that what you tell your kids?"

Grace was in her first year working at the Hertzfeld Elementary. Melody was practically guaranteed a position there, as soon as her certification was finalized. She had already worked there as an intern for a few months, as part of the requirements for her degree, and got along great with everyone, so it was just a formality before she could start.

"Well... not exactly."

"That's what I thought," said Melody triumphantly.

"Bella did ask me the other day if I had a hairy vagina or not."

Melody had met Bella the last time she interned. She was about eight, cute as a button, but incredibly inquisitive. She managed to ask at least five questions a minute.

"What did you tell her?"

"I didn't tell her the truth, that's for sure."

"Oh yeah, what is the truth?"

"That my cunt is as smooth as butter, of course. That way there's no friction when a dick is sliding in."

"Uh huh, wise words from Grace. One of these days I'm just gonna tweet everything you say."

"Do it. Maybe you'll become famous, and make millions of bucks, and then finally you'll have enough spare time to let a guy actually fuck you."

"It's more likely I'd get arrested for breaking the laws of decency. What was that one dumb thing you said about Obama?"

"You mean that I'd Lewinsky him any day of the week?"

"Yeah. I'm sure that would make a great tweet."

Melody couldn't believe that her pina colada was almost gone. It seemed to have been full just a moment ago, and then all of a sudden it wasn't. She was comfortably tipsy, not enough to be drunk, but not enough to be sober either. Grace had already finished hers, of course.

Dustin came over, and plopped down two fresh drinks, without even being asked. Melody looked at him in confusion.

"These drinks are courtesy of the gentlemen over at that table," he explained, pointing out the group of guys that had arrived recently.

They seemed to be around their age, maybe a little older. The typical frat brothers kind of gathering. Generally handsome, moderately well dressed, and incredibly cocky. One of them waved at the women, as they looked over.

"Thanks, D," thanked Grace, and waved the guy over.

The guy seemed to be honestly surprised that Grace had called him over, and he hesitated a moment, before getting up amidst cheers from his friends. Melody was surprised, too, although she didn't voice it. The guy wore khakis, and a sweatshirt with the letters of her college on it. He had short, dark hair, and one of those faces that just seemed to be eternally smiling.

"Hey there, what's your name?" inquired Grace. She turned around on her stool, and leaned back against the bar, making sure her tits were on full display.

"Phoenix, how about you?"

"Thanks for the drinks, Phoenix," she thanked him, ignoring his question. "To what do we owe this honor?"

Phoenix, clearly embarrassed, not having expected to actually make it this far, stumbled around a bit looking for a response. "Because, uh, well, you two are, uh, the prettiest girls in this place."

Melody giggled. She felt bad for the guy. It had been a pretty nice gesture, and he definitely did not deserve to be on the receiving end of Grace's machinations. She actually thought he was kinda cute.

"How big is your dick, Phoenix?" Grace asked, still keeping a straight face.

Melody, familiar with this sort of routine, rolled her eyes. Potentially more than sex, Grace loved toying with her prey. She wanted everyone to know that she was the one in charge, and not the other way around. To her credit, she usually got what she wanted.

"Uh, I'm not sure, I never measured—"

"Don't bullshit me."

"About six and a half."

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Melody drank the remains of her pina colada, and replaced her glass with the new one. The poor guy had gone all red in his face, but he was brave enough not to back off.

"Cut, or uncut?" continued Grace.

"Cut," the guy responded at once, his confidence resurfacing.

Grace spread her legs, and hooked her foot around the back of Phoenix's knee. She pulled him closer to her, and placed her hand on his crotch.

"Wow, I think he might actually be telling the truth," she announced, after giving it a good squeeze.

"You can tell if he's cut, or not, just from touching it through the pants?" inquired Melody.

"It all comes down to experience," explained Grace sagely. Melody regretted speaking up immediately, because it only reminded Grace that she existed. Grace looked at her, with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Unfortunately, I prefer much bigger men, but I think you'd be perfect for my friend here," she nodded towards Melody, "You see, she dreams of becoming a hooker, but she's still a virgin, and she needs a starter dick to break her in."

It was Melody's turn to blush. Aided by the alcohol, her whole face flushed a deep red. Phoenix looked between the two of them in confusion. Grace didn't stop there, though, she was far too amused watching her friend turn as red as a strawberry.

"In fact, just for tonight, she has a special offer available. She'll do your whole table for just two thou—"

"Hey, that's enough!" cut in Melody, who had regained some self control. "Sorry, Phoenix, she's just messing with you."

A mixture of relief, but also disappointment, spread across his face, and Melody wondered if he had actually believed the story. What did that say about her? Although, dressed the way she was, it wasn't too much of a stretch of the imagination.

"I told you, I'm not interested in picking up guys tonight," Melody admonished her friend.

"Fine, fine, have it your way," sighed Grace. She pulled out a sharpie out of her purse, grabbed Phoenix's arm, and scribbled her phone number on it. "Call me later, and we can still work something out. Maybe bring a couple of your friends, too. I'm actually a fan of cocks of all sizes."

"Uh, sure," Phoenix mumbled.

"Off you go, then," Grace commanded, and he actually obeyed.

When he returned to the table, the guys badgered him with questions, and proudly showed off the phone number on his arm. Melody wondered if he'd actually take her up on the offer. He hadn't seemed like he enjoyed his brief acquaintance with Grace too much. But then again, he was a guy. They didn't need a lot of encouragement to want to screw a willing woman, and if Melody knew anything about her friend, it was that she was very willing.

"That was mean," she complained to Grace.

"You should have seen your face, though. Priceless."

"Bitch."

"I should have taken a picture, then you could tweet that. It'd go viral in no time."

"I could just post your phone number. That seems to be far more popular."

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