Johnnie Blue

All Rights Reserved

Cover Art © Whitebox Media - Fotolia.com

Denyse Cohen

“I need a drink,” I murmured to myself walking toward the bar. On my way, I grabbed a glimpse of the bride holding the bouquet and the other hopeful women gathering around her. “At least she had the decency to have an open bar.”

The view of the bartender was obstructed by the powerful back of a man sitting on a stool and leaning against the bar. I could only see the top of his tousled dirty-blonde hair as he bent his head toward his glass, totally ignoring the herd of single women sitting a few stools down and glaring at him like he was a deity. If what I was viewing from behind was any indication of what was at the front, he might as well have been. With his feet propped on the railing around the bar, his tighs stretched his suit pants and his back tapered to a narrow waist on top of a round ass.

Yummy
.

“Whiskey, neat,” I asked the bartender, placing myself between the man and the herd of women staring at him like bitches in heat. From the corner of my eyes, I saw him turning his head toward me, checking me out from feet up. It was nice to know that at 35 I still got it. Luckily, I actually enjoyed exercising and my Italian bloodline granted me all the curves in the right places. Fuck the professional bob cut, my brown wavy hair falls almost to my waist. I was wearing high heel sandals with fresh pedicured red toenails, a silky brown dress sitting at mid-thigh: simple and loose but it showed my toned body as I moved, especially my ass which I was told many times was my best asset. Thank you, Italia! His eyes unashamedly traveled up as if he was measuring my body inch by inch. Asshole, I thought. No class at all.
I didn’t look at him, but I could feel the burn of his hungry eyes over me.

“A woman with a real drink…interesting,” He said when the bartender placed my drink in front of me.
Oh, shit.
My pussy tingled at his voice: deep and coarse and so sexy. Instinctively, the first place I looked was his cock and I bit my lower lip when I saw the massive bulge on his pants.

I lifted my eyes quickly and found his grey eyes fixed on mine, “Oh, please! Men are scared shitless of women that can handle their alcohol.” I turned my face toward the women beside me, they all held flutes of orange colored drinks.
Mimosas? Fucking shit twigs.

“Not me. I think a woman with a real drink is sexy as hell.”

“Good for you,” I said dismissively.

When I reached for the glass he said, “Nice rock.”

I looked down at my wedding ring: a princess cut diamond the size of a black-eyed pea, then took a big gulp of whiskey and shrugged. “My husband thinks he can buy me.”

“And where’s the lucky man?”

I looked into those eyes the color of cold-rain, his unshaven square jaw, and perfectly contoured lips and thought this man was a real danger. “Probably after one of the bridesmaids trying to get laid.”

He shook his head and knocked back his drink. “Why do you put out for an idiot?”

“It’s none of your business,” I said finishing my drink in another big gulp, banging the glass on the bar, and wincing at the burn. The man continued staring at me, still waiting for an answer. “He has a big dick.”

“Ha!” He snorted. “Haven’t you heard? Size is not everything.”

“When you have a pussy you can talk to me about size.”

He laughed hard and his laughter was like velvety dark chocolate: smooth and rich. Despite myself, I stared at his face, his lips, noticing little dimples forming in his cheeks. I could almost feel the taste of his skin in my tongue and it made me swallow dry.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

I cocked my head and lifted an eyebrow. “It’s an open bar.”

“Not for the good stuff.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a money clip, then removed a fifty dollar bill. “Bartender, another one for me and one for the lady.” The bartender nodded, opened a cabinet behind the bar, and pulled a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue.

“Whoa.” I whispered at the sight of Johnnie Blue and looked at grey eyes who smirked triumphantly at me. “This is not going to get you inside my pants.”

“We’ll see.” He gave me a devilish wink.

We’ll see.

The golden liquid looked like melted amber, we were unable to look away as the bartender poured it into two crystal glasses.

Turning on the stool to face me, he picked up the glasses and handed me one. “To the poor bastard who’s gone out for a steak while he has a filet in the fridge.”

“Meat analogy, huh? How classy.” I tried unsuccessfully not to roll my eyes and drank the whisky, savoring its fiery nuances. It glided down my throat smooth, smokey, and sweet. Immediately, an amazing heat spread through my body. I closed my eyes to take in every flavor, every sensation. Hot just like sex.

“I can’t help it.” He took a sip and, leaning toward me, whispered. “For the past five minutes I’ve been thinking how delicious your pussy must taste.” His scent was intoxicating: earthy, spicy, and sophisticated. His grey eyes lit with fire heat radiated off him melting my bones, and before straightening himself up again he said, “I want to eat you up.”

My thighs clenched, the hair on the nape of my neck stood up, and my nipples seemed to have a will of their own, reaching out and as if they wanted to touch him. Those were the boldest, crudest words a man had ever said to me. Still, I was so wet for this, this…asshole I feared I would be dripping down my thighs at any moment.

I looked at his crotch again.
Oh, fucking hell.
My mouth actually watered as I imagined myself sucking his dick. His left hand rested on his knee: no ring.

Glancing at my own wedding ring, I said feigning nonchalance, “Sorry, pal. It’s not going to happen.” I took another sip and said, “Thanks for the drink.” Then, I walked away with my glass
—
of course.

Honestly, I had no idea where to go. Completely disoriented but trying hard to keep my poise, I looked over my right shoulder: cheery twenty-something women dying to catch the bouquet. I looked over my left shoulder: exit door and bathrooms. I  couldn’t leave without my husband, so I moved toward the bathrooms.

I was dying to look back and see if grey eyes was watching me, but I feared that if our gazes locked again I would not be able to resist fucking him senseless.

Inside the bathroom, I went straight to the sink. My cheeks were burning from whiskey or desire. Who cares?

I downed the whiskey and, for the first time in the night, I was happy I took a cab here. My husband had driven straight from the airport, he’d just arrived from a week long business trip. This wedding was a pain in the ass, I didn’t know anyone to begin with nor cared to anyway, but the groom was one of my husband’s clingy high school friends who was finally marrying the homecoming queen and insisted all his buddies were here to witness the deed. Needless to say, I was in a bad mood, extremely horny, and on my way to getting hammered. Good times.

The bathroom was empty, thank goodness. The last thing I needed was some Daisy Duke trying to chit chat while I decided if I was going to finger myself into a quick orgasm to release the steam. I turned on the faucet and wet my fingers, when I lifted my head and brushed them over my lips I saw, through the mirror, grey eyes standing behind me.

“What are you doing here?” I turned around and leaned against the sink.

“You, I hope.” He closed the distance between us in two long strides and took my face into his hands, crushing his lips to mine. The kiss was everything I hoped it would be—and more; his lips were soft and warm, his tongue sure and wanting.

“Someone will see us.” I reluctantly pushed him off.

Someone will see us? You whore.
But before I could muster the strength to send him away, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stall reserved for the handicapped on the far corner of the bathroom.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said as he pulled me inside the-so-spacious-you-can-have-a-threesome-in-here stall and locked the door.

He turned and wrapped his mouth around mine, saying “shhh” in between kisses.

“I’m married,” I whispered with my eyes closed while he nibbled on my neck.

“You’re sexy as hell.” He nudged me backward until my butt hit the small sink in the corner of the stall.

Much taller than me, he bent his knees and cupped my ass pulling me hard against his erection and rocking against me in languid strokes that felt so deliriously good that the anticipation of what was to come was almost painful to bear. My entire body ached to have him inside me, fucking me hard.

He lifted me up so I was sitting on the edge of the sink, tugging my dress up while I adjusted myself over the sleek ceramic basin. I started to open his belt, but he moved my hands away. “I’ve told you I want to eat you up.”

My hands inched up his muscular chest and wrapped around his neck. “If you insist.”

Pulling my panties to the side, he looked down while I stared at his face. The damn Brazilians were worth every penny, I thought. His expression was of raw carnality. My pink, bare pussy must had looked like a juicy steak because I really believed he would eat me whole if he could.

“So wet.” He slid a finger inside me. “I want to fuck you until you melt.” His voice was but a husky whisper.

I dug my fingers into his hair and pulled him toward me, kissing him hard. “Now. Do it now.”

His lips twisted slightly upwards and he knelt on the floor, I knew this man was going to make me beg for it all the while driving me to insanity. He took my panties off, opened my plump folds with his fingers and plunged his tongue inside me with an almost primal urgency. He sucked and licked and flickered and toyed with me until desire was a scorching fire in my groin.

“I want you. Now,” I said as he pulled his mouth away and slid two fingers inside me slowly and a with a measured intensity that made me quiver with pleasure.

Standing up while maddeningly opening and closing his fingers inside me, he said, “you taste so sweet.” I reached for his head and crushed his mouth with a savage kiss.

“Take this off,” He grabbed the hem of my dress and helped me pull it over my head. With one hand, he laid the dress over the toilet tank and brought both hands to feel the weight of my breasts.

“This too,” he said reaching behind my back unfastening my bra. Then, he lowered his head to suck my tender nipples. He feasted on the rounded flesh as if it was strawberry mousse, licking and sucking with gusto.

Even as I arched my back to grant him better access, I felt vulnerable. Completely naked but for my high heels and awkwardly sprawled over the sink with this man over me like an electric blanket.

“Enough.” I pushed him away and he stepped back with a startled look. I eased myself off the sink as graciously as possible, intensely aware of his gaze on my body.

My feet had barely touched the floor, when he pressed against me again and said, “I’m not done with you yet.” He murmured inside my ear, with a wrong arm wrapped around my waist and his other hand sliding between my legs pressing down on my clitoris with his fingers.

“Take off your clothes,” I murmured weakly, grasping on his shoulders afraid to ooze out of his arms.

“Not yet.”

“Bullshit. I want to see you.” I tried to push him off but his arm was like an iron bar around me. Instead, he squeezed me even harder and pushed his fingers inside me with blunt deliberation.

“Oh,” I cried out—despite myself. He took my mouth with his again and I wasn’t sure where his ended and mine started. This kiss alone could had driven me over the edge, add his fingers deeply embedded inside me and I was about to fly over the moon.

He was fully clothed in front of me, his dick about to burst out of his pants. I wanted to ride him until his thick and hard cock stretched every inch of my swollen, damp pussy. Yet, he remained in control, calculating every move like a machine. He wanted me to beg.
Not going to happen.