“How about I make you something I created myself? Give me a moment I’ll be right back,” the bartender turned away and started creating the drink...mix with his back to me, so that I couldn’t see what he was mixing together. While he worked on the drink I scoped the dance floor, looking for people that I could take home with me. I could see a bunch of drunken girls “dancing” on the dance floor; it was more like moving spinning around in a circle. I wouldn’t have called that dancing. They really. The few other guests they tried talking to were clearly not that enthusiastic about talking to them. Indeed, it was almost too obvious that were taking every opportunity to avoid conversation, or to keep what they felt obliged to acknowledge as short, polite and inconclusive as they could. However, there was one woman, somewhat older than themselves, and consequently with a rather more heavy frame, who was much more friendly. ‘I’m Lil,’ she told them with an accent that betrayed her working. I loved the feeling of touching myself for him. I wanted to touch everywhere but my instincts told me to wait for his instructions. Then he ordered me to give him my black thong; now lying at my feet. I bent over slowly, shaking my ass as I picked up the tiny piece of cloth. I threw it at him and he brought it up to his nose to smell it... “He told me to touch my pussy; he wanted to see how wet it was. I moaned at his words, so badly did I want to touch myself for him. Then I reached down with. He shook the last of his pee from his cock and said, "The answer to myquestions are always YES. Now, do you like watching a man piss, girl?"With a small shudder a gasp of air ushered the word YES from my throat.Owners cock was growing larger and starting to fill my mouth. I tried tothink like a girl and that sucking a cock was a natural act. It made mymind accept his cock in my mouth; although my body did not completelyaccept his cock without sending its disgusting sense of sensory.