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The Liar’s Bar

Grant meets his dream woman in the Liar’s Bar.

The bar door crashes open and the juke box music floods into the darkening street beyond. A weary Grant Oliver walks up to the bar stool, announces his arrival with the hard hitting helmet that crashes on the bar. His thick coat thrown on top of it to make sure it stayed there.

The bartender glances at the man climbing onto the stool out of the corner of his eye as he proceeds to polish the glasses; one by one, inch by inch.

Grant stares at the bar for what seems like ages and lets out a long breath; his hands clasped together and his eyes closing in the process.

The bartender places the glass onto the shelf and slowly makes his way towards Grant.

“What can I get you?”

“Whisky,” says Grant without looking up. He suddenly raises his head quickly and speaks at the retreating barman. “Make that a double, will ya.”

The barman pours a double whisky into the only cut glass tumbler this side of town; posh glass for these parts – without a doubt.

Grant watches the barman, his life-long companion in this godforsaken place, feed the golden juice into his favourite glass, followed by a very small dash of water to temper the roughness and bring out the flavour.

“Hard day?”

“Yeah, Mac. Fucking shit day,” he says picking up the glass and downing the whisky in one go before he replaces it back on the bar.

“Same again?”

Grant nods and leaves Mac to return to the bottle. This time, Mac brings it with him in anticipation and proceeds to fill the glass again; placing it in front of Grant.

Grant turns the glass quickly between the fingers of both hands and watches the whisky rise to the side, cling to it for a while, before sinking back down.

Grant lifts his head to look around the bar and notices just one other couple in the far corner. Her legs wrapped over his body, close enough for them to be making out. He lets out a long sigh and watches them kiss for a while.

A blonde woman walks towards the bar from the toilets. Her breasts grab his attention as they wobble from side to side, then he notices her face. As she approaches the bar, she climbs onto a similar stool and raises her drink to take a sip.

“Who’s the skirt?” asks Grant.

Mac turns his head to look at her and then returns his gaze to Grant while taking a large sip of his whisky.

“Don’t know, new here,” he says shaking his head at the same time.

Grant stares in her direction, watching her as she leans over the bar. She takes a lock of hair that has fallen around her face and re-attaches it behind her ear before placing her hands around her drink; cupping her glass between both hands; just like Grant is doing with his whisky.

“What’s she drinking Mac?”

“Vodka and Peppermint,” he replies, “fucking strange combination if you ask me,” he adds.

Grant lets out a brief and almost inaudible laugh, followed by a smack of his lips as the alcohol bites into a cut at the edge of his mouth.

“Everyone and everything is fucking strange in these parts, Mac.”

Mac nods his head in agreement.

“Another whisky, please?” Grant hands Mac the empty glass. “Get the blondie one too.”

Mac returns the filled glass to Grant and returns to place the Vodka and Peppermint down next to the blonde. Grant watches as she looks up at the barman and then sees Mac motion with his head in Grant’s direction. Blondie glances briefly towards Grant but offers no acknowledgement or acceptance of his gift.

Grant sips his drink but is taken aback when Blondie orders herself a new drink, leaving his on the bar. He raises his eyebrows and returns to his drink, ‘obviously a dyke’ he thinks; causing him to raise a smile.

Music is playing but Grant, nor Blondie, has put a penny in the jukebox. Yet it churns out the tunes, relentlessly.

With time getting on, Grant makes a move to leave but his attention is taken as Blondie beats him to it as she moves off the stool; her shoes resound on the wooden floor. He watches once more as her breasts bounce as she gets off the high barstool. He wasn’t expecting it, but she picks up her drink and on her way past places it in front of Grant.

“Any reason why I should accept this drink from you?”

Her tits almost rest on the bar as the question is posed and Grant catches a glimpse of her deep cleavage.

“I liked your tits,” he replies with a sly grin.

A smirk crosses Blondie’s lips.

“Everyone likes my tits. What makes you so special?”

“Ah, you know, could have been more company than just sitting down drinking on yer own.”

Blondie pulls up a bar stool and takes a sip out of the drink.

“You leaving or do you want another one?”

Grant looks across at her, shrugs and hands her the glass. Blondie calls Mac over and holds up the empty glass, “Whatever he’s having, Mac.”

Grant’s whisky arrives and he takes a sip; the juke box is between records and the silence is noticeable.

“So, what do you do for a living ummm-”

“Top executive in a very big business.” Blondie was hoping for a name but none was forthcoming. “And you?”

“I’m a business woman specialising in custom made pillows for men.”

Grant splatters his mouthful of whisky over his hand at her response; especially when she shook her shoulders at him.

“How many people do you employ?”

“Well, there are four managers and one employee. You could say we are a little top heavy at the moment.” A smile crossed her lips as she looked at Grant; eager for a response that was worthy of her retort.

“Top heavy – I get it. But as for a business woman – you’re lying.”

“And you’re no fucking executive either. By the way, my name’s Angie.”

She holds out her hand propped up by her elbow on the bar.

“Grant.” He replies, taking her hand to shake it.

“Have you ever seen the film pretty woman?”

Angie nods. “Good film.”

“Well, that’s me in reverse. Waiting for this blonde business woman to come along and give me a few thousand dollars for my smile.”

“Right.” Angie smiles in Grant’s direction. Her beauty doesn’t go unnoticed. As he looks at her face and into her eyes a wisp of hair falls down around her face. Angie immediately rescues it and places it back behind her ear; an automatic response that she must have performed a hundred times a day.

The silence that trickles back into the room is punctuated by the couple in the corner getting ready to leave; giggling starts when the man’s hand brushes the crack of his girlfriend’s arse as she passes Grant and Angie; heading for the door.

“They’re in for a good time,” says Angie.

“How do you know?”

“Well, little things, like stolen kisses every now and then, a stroke of her arm-”

Grant starts to nod.

“And he had his finger up her pussy when I went to the bar.”

“Fuck me!” Grant replied in astonishment. “You could be right; then, they’re in for a good time.”

“Do you think she was playing with his straw?” Grant adds.

“Never noticed her disappear South, and never noticed a bulge either.”

“Maybe a small straw?” Angie raised her eyebrows with a smile.

“A bit like yours then?”

“Hell no I’m a good fifteen inches and thick.”

“And I’m as tight as a cat’s arse!”

Angie shifted in her seat to look behind her at the jukebox, now playing her favourite tune for some reason. Mac was standing next to it feeding it a few more coins and selecting music at random. Grant caught the first whiff of her sweet scented perfume. A memory took him back to the days when-

He smiled. “You smell nice.”

Angie straightened her back and pursed her lips in a feigned attempt at surprise. “Why, thank you. Your aftershave is somewhat unique. Eau-de-smoke is it?”

“Comes with the job, this Armani suit and these high-class shoes,” he said, pointing to his jacket on the table and then down to his boots.

Angie looked down at the floor and saw the heavy steel toe-capped black boots that Grant was wearing.

“So what do you really do, Grant?”

“I’m an executive, top brass, I go in guns a’blazin – you could call me an executive firefighter.”

Angie looks at his coat and spots the hint of yellow underneath it.  She nods to herself.

“I’m still a business woman,” she smirks.

“At least you’re a live one.”

Angie struggled to think where that would have come from, but realised that he must have seen plenty of unfortunate people that did not make it out of the flames or smoke.

Grant broke the silence that had descended and immediately diverted attention onto Angie.

“So, what do you do Angie? What’s your business?”

“I buy and sell.”





“Top of the range bra’s, for top heavy executives?”

Angie giggled at the thought.

“Nope. Nice thought though. I own a small independent bookshop around the corner.”


“Yeah, books.”

“Fuck me; you are a high flyer.”

“Here’s one for ya,” Grant reaches into his repertoire of bad jokes and pulls one out of the hat.

“What goes up black and white and comes down red?”

“A man reading a book on an airplane – that’s an old one.”

Angie stares him out and offers to buy him another drink out of her dividends.

“Dividends, eh! Well, fuck me.”

Mac comes across and fills their glasses.

“Closing in ten, just to let you know.”

Both Grant and Angie sighed at the comment and both let out the word Fuck at the same time. Home time was looming and neither of them wanted to leave the bubble they had created. Angie couldn’t put her finger on it. She no longer knew why she hadn’t accepted his drink much sooner. Bloody mindedness, she thought. She scolded herself for it.

Grant looked at Mac and then at Angie. “I betta be off.” Grant shrugged at Angie but was not expecting the dangerous and wicked reply.

“How about a takeaway?” Angie winked at Grant.

“You come round to mine to finish it off?”

Grant threw his hands into the air, palms up, but said nothing.

“Tell me, Mac, what’s a good girl gotta do to get in a bloke’s pants?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” replied Mac.

“You sure are,” says Grant, “what makes you think I want to let you get in my pants, anyway!”

“Oh! A few things.”

“Like what?”

“Like the way you ogled my tits when I walked back to the bar from the loo.”

Grant said nothing.

“Like the way you smiled when I flicked my hair back into place as I sat down.”

This time Grant frowned – how the hell did she know that?

“And like the way your cock just jumped to attention when I mentioned my pillow escapade.”

Grant took a deep breath.

“Don’t deny it. It did,” Angie added.

“OK, it might have done.”

“We’re only getting a takeaway if you have a decent straw though. Is it a decent straw?”

“What is it with you and straws?”

“Have you ever tried a straw?”


“Just teasing, but obviously not -”

“Two – to take away please, Mac,” Grant had made the decision as he slipped off his stool and grabbed his coat and hat, in that order.

They each took their drink and headed out into the cold night air. Grant watched as Angie’s nipples hardened with the cool breeze. They turned the corner into forty third street and Angie pushed the door to the donut shop, but it didn’t shift. She looked through the window and caught the eye of the owner cleaning down the counter.

Angie walked away, disappointed. A couple of doors further down the street she turned to face Grant.

“My shop,” she said pointing to the blue façade; peeling paintwork exposed the underlying pink colouration of the undercoat. The door looked rickety and the books in the window old and decrepit.

“Nice shop, interesting,” said Grant.

Angie opened the door and walked inside, flicking a small table lamp on just behind the door. She let Grant follow her before locking it behind him.

“Do you sleep here?”

“Yeah, in the back, go through.”

Grant walked towards the back of the bookshop towards a light that illuminated a small crack in the door before he was pushed to one side as Angie squeezed past.

“Put your stuff down here,” she said, pointing to the chair that occupied a small alcove, “give me a second to tidy things up.”

Grant deposited his hat and coat on the chair and waited a few precious seconds before following Angie into the back room. As the door opened, she raised her glass in the air.

“To your health.”

“And to yours,” replied Grant. He couldn’t help but survey the room as he took a sip.

Angie smacked her lips and put the glass down on a side table just inside the doorway. Grant followed suit but only then realised that she had finished her drink in one go. They looked at each other with intent. Grant’s eyes finally gave in to gravity as his stare fell onto Angie’s breasts.

He watched as her fingers released a few buttons before she pulled it over her head. Her breasts bounced free for a few seconds before she pushed them together as an offering to the gods.

“Man pillows,” said Angie, smirking as she walked slowly towards Grant; holding them together. She could feel her juices start to flow and she hadn’t even kissed him. When she reached him, she let them go. Their mouth’s met in a fiery explosion that had been goading them for the last half hour.

Grant’s head was drawn to her perfect mounds and in no time his face was lost between them. His hands wrapped around her breasts leaving her to casually unbutton and drop her jeans to the floor.

Angie stood naked in front of Grant, but he was too busy to notice the rest of her. She lifted his head from her tits and looked him up and down.

“You’re overdressed,” she smiled.

“Seems like it,” he replied. Grant looked her up and down before he bent over to remove his bulky shoes. He finally stood up to start unbuttoned his shirt before Angie took over leaving Grant to his trousers. Both items were tough, hardened fabric and awkward to remove.

He finally stood before her, naked.

Angie nodded slowly to herself. Her eyes met with an over energetic cock. It was bouncing around like Tigger the Tiger.  She reached out to stabilise it before it started making her sea sick. As she grasped it, the skin moved backward exposing his slick and tender cock head. It glistened in the dim lighting. Angie pulled on it a few times while looking into Grant’s eyes. Her left hand came up on the head of his cock and she smoothed it with her palm. Pre-cum oozed onto her hand and she rubbed it in before removing it and placing it on his buttock. Angie squeezed it affectionately. Starting at his shoulder she slowly kissed her way down his body; leaving his chest and six pack behind before sinking her mouth over the head of his cock. By the time she had engulfed it, she was on her knees and her tits were swinging with the motion and her sex had thoroughly wetted her thighs in anticipation.

Grant let out a low moan and then another when Angie almost took the whole of his cock down her throat. His hand automatically came up onto the back of her head, but he never pulled her towards him. He didn’t need to. Angie was more than adept at cock sucking.

“Your turn, my lady.”

Grants hands clasped at Angie’s armpits to try and raise her, but her mouth continued to eagerly devour his cock. With both hands on his arse, she was pumping her head up and down it and rolling her tongue around like it was manna from heaven.

She was forced to relinquish her hold on his cock when he forcefully lifted her up from the floor. Looked into Grant’s eyes; her face contorted and her eyes pleading with him to let her finish.

Grant found the sofa and planted Angie firmly down on it; her arse protruding from the edge and her legs flailing in the air above his head. He pushed her thighs open and knelt down to her sweet spot. He kissed her wetness; throwing Angie into a fit of giggles before the moaning started. Her hand came up behind Grant’s head. She pulled him into her and she bucked her pussy on his lips for good measure. For a big man, he was gentle and tender.

Angie wrapped her legs around Grant’s head and closed her eyes as his tongue lashed at her sex. She was moaning and uttering words that encouraged him along. Not that he needed them, but they were nice to hear. Grant slipped his tongue inside her cunt; causing a loud groan to emanate from her lips.

Angie shook her head from side to side as she felt her orgasm rising to the surface from his oral onslaught. She wanted to cum but she also wanted his cock. Angie opened her legs wide to get a better view of her lover. His face was tight against her snatch and his tongue was snaking all over her pussy. Wetting it even more than was necessary. Grant oscillated between her tight little hole and her pussy, always seeming to avoid her clit at all cost. Angie was thrashing beneath him and bucking her hips in a feeble attempt to land the tip of his tongue on her sensitive little bud.

She needn’t have worried. Grant knew where it was all along.

Angie closed her eyes and pulled his head towards her as she lowered her pussy towards the sofa. She hit the roof when he clamped his mouth over her clit and started sucking. It filled his mouth, seemed to grow more as he sucked on it and became the sole point of contact between them.

Angie loved every flick, every suck before her climax shook her body. She thrashed below him, her legs shook and she clamped them hard around his head in an attempt to stop them from shaking her free. Her stomach convulsed and her bottom left the sofa on a number of occasions.

Happy that she was experiencing her first orgasm, Grant extricated himself from her grip and raised her off the sofa, turned her around in his arms and positioning her on all fours. He had been waiting for this very moment since they kissed.

With his cock level with her pussy, he thrust it into her dripping wet cunt in one easy movement. Fuck, did it fill her. Not quite the fifteen but enough for her to cry out as it entered and pushed its way upwards. She felt every inch, right to the point where it stopped moving and couldn’t go any further. That was the moment she closed her eyes and groaned.

She mumbled into the cushion. “Fuck me, Fuck me, Fuck me!”

Grant fucked her.

He knew he wouldn’t last that long so taking his time was only wasting pleasure, for both of them. Grant fucked his cock into her hard and fast. Angie moaned and groaned every time it bottomed out in her cunt. Her hands came up to the side and she pressed them into the back of the sofa while she slowly raised her head from the cushions. As she levelled her body, she started pushing back towards his forward moving cock. Grant picked up a handful of her hair; pulling hard on it at the same time as Angie smiled, letting out an enormous moan as their combined effort satisfied her.

They both came to the end of their movement at the same time and she felt the head of his cock push hard against her cervix. The second attempt saw it press a little further, and by the time Grant was about to spurt, Angie felt the pressure of his cock head bring her rapidly to her second orgasm. Grant’s juices were just about to leave the end of his cock when he pulled out of her cunt and spurted all over her backside. Angie’s orgasm was already in progress and she was swearing and thrashing on the sofa even after Grant’s cock was removed. His spunk more than covered her back and before either of them started to relax, Grant was massaging his juices into her skin with his fingers.

A firm hand smacked her bottom causing Angie to let out a yelp as she pulled her body from under him. She turned around quickly and stood up on tiptoes. Her mouth clasped over Grant’s and the passionate kiss they shared reverberated throughout the room.

Angie was the first to break the kiss. “Where have you been all my life?”

The question was rhetorical more than anything and her head fell onto Grant’s shoulder as she sucked in much needed air.

Grant lifted her up from the floor and Angie wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock was still hard and nudging the entrance of her pussy as he lifted and swung her from side to side. It finally rested at her entrance, and he lowered her onto it; they kissed as he clung onto her waist with both arms.

Angie felt full, not for the first time, but the tenderness at that moment took her to a place of serenity rather than some sexual abyss. The fullness of her body and the passionate kiss was everything she had ever wanted.

A strand of hair fell from her head and struck her nose as they kissed. Angie no longer worried about her hair as she rocked her body against her lover; her bottom projected outwards, her breasts squashed against his chest and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

Who would have thought – an unwanted drink, a chance meeting of two top brass executives, in a bar late at night would turn out to be sheer bliss.

They were still kissing when Grant sat on the sofa, still carrying Angie in his arms.


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright © DarkSide
All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the writer

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