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WWOA: Wild World Of Alexis. This came out a bit longer than I had planned–due to background to make this a several part series. Also, in this Chapter, sex is only at the end. Thanks.
Ever since Hurricane Katrina (dat beeeeeyoooootccch!), I’ve become a bit of a recluse. She stole a lot of dat joie de vivre from me that we folks from down in south Louisiana are known for.
So the following tale (or is it tail, hehehe) that I’m fixin’ to tell y’all about, was a surprise, even to me.
It was Valentine’s Day, and probably a year or so since the last time I went down to the bar up on the highway to have a few drinks with someone other than Charlie, da Sam’mich dawg. (Went in for a sam’mich, came out with a puppy. Geeesh, I’m still paying for dat day. Shoulda been my best warning about excess drinking. Now, he’s my partner in crime. Charlie is usually welcome everywhere I go—hell, I think folks like him more than they do me.) 😉
Anyways, like I said, it was Valentine’s Day, and a single guy can only take so many romantic comedies. (A billion fuckin’ satellite channels–and not a freakin’ action movie in sight. Like a woman is gonna let a guy off d’at easy on this day by staying home and watching FREE movies on TV???) Time for the sports bar and some manly man drinkin’ & sports.
Danny, the bartender greeted me as I found my old spot, up against the wall at the corner of the bar, and slid into the barstool like it was only yesterday since I’d been there. (Like Wild Bill Hickok learned, never let ANYONE get behind ya.) A shot of Black Seal Rum and an Abita TurboDawg showed up without me ordering them, and it felt like I’d never been gone.
“Hey Danny, another round… and get one for yourself.”
“Since when? You on da wagon?”
“Me? On da wagon? Nah, new manager’s rules, drinking on shift is a fireable offense.”
“Shit, Mike ain’t gonna let that happen.”
“Man, you have been away. Everything’s changed around here, including Mike.”
A couple of drinks later, the Hornets and CP3 & Co. were stinging da Lakers late in the 4th quarter and the bar was going nuts.
It was a great night–and I didn’t even mind the four morons crammed into the space of 3 barstools next to me. Or the cute lil blonde (If I had my druthers, she’d be a redhead. lol) at the other end of the bar that they kept jaw-jackin’ with. (Dang! I just realized there are a lot of women in here tonight.)
CP3 just alley-ooped one to Tyson, with a foul. High 5s and drinks all around–then the TVs all changed to some flowery screensaver-type thingy.
HEY!!! WHAT DA HELL’S GOING ON???
The shouts reverberated around the bar.
PUT DA FUCKIN’ GAME BACK ON!!!
I grabbed Danny, “What da hell’s going on? Put da Hornets back on so we can catch the end.”
He looked like someone had just shorted him a tip, as he nodded towards the bandstand across the bar, “The boss’s new girlfriend, she’ll tell ya. Here, on me. You’re gonna need it.” And set me up with a double. (Oh shit! This can’t be good.)
A cartoonish, overly made-up, big-tittied blonde was at the mic on the bandstand now. (Bet she needed triple spandex to keep from saggin’.) And gawd, she was dressed like she was proud of them big ole honkers. (Geeesh, double AND triple Ds on a sized 2, makes these girls look like they charge by the hour, or is that what they want?) “Hi y’all, I’m Bonnie. Welcome everybody to our Valentine’s Day Karaoke Night!”
From out of the crowd, “PUT THE FUCKIN’ GAME BACK ON!!!” (Like da license plates state: Louisiana: Da Sportsman’s State!)
She continued, “The game wasn’t supposed to be on at all tonight. Her eyes shot daggers at Danny. They play a thousand games a year–and I get Karaoke Night ONLY once a week, BESIDES, it’s Valentine’s Day.” (Fuck it, I guess I’ll just have to watch SportsCenter, later.)
The grumbling continued, amid a small bit of applause for Karaoke Night.
“Danny, they’re all out there, put the game on this TV, you don’t even have to put the sound on.”
“Wayne, she’s the new bar manager, and she told me that she should fire me for putting it on at all. If I turn it back on, she’s GONNA fire me.”
“Dat fuckin’ bitch!”
“Man you don’t know the half of it. She’s destroying this place. I just hope Mike sees it before she ruins his business totally.”
“Damn… Danny, I didn’t realize Mike was so pussy-whipped. Bitch must give some hellacious head, huh?”
We both laughed, then he looked around to make sure no one was listening, “I don’t think she gives head at all. At least to hear Mike complain about needing a BJ.”
I picked up my shot of rum, saluted Danny, and downed it, chased by a long pull on my TurboDawg, “Well, I guess I oughta hit da road then–this is even worse than being home alone for Valentine’s Day.”
“Sure you don’t wanna stay for da show?”
“Nah, I’ll pass, Charlie’s waiting for me…” and turned to leave.
Over the house speakers, “And our first songstress tonight, Alexis….” There was a smattering rus escort of applause.
It was the cute lil blonde from the other end of the bar. I just realized the bar had been hiding the most awesome pair of legs I have ever seen in person. (They weren’t as long as Stacy Keibler’s–but dammmmm, whose are?) They merged into a gorgeous ass–all barely hidden by a short, tight dress that Tina Turner would have been shy about wearing on stage. It was white spandex, with lil pink and red hearts all over it. (I guess it was for her sweetheart on Valentine’s Day, but I’d call it a heartbreaker dress–because I know she just broke mine.)
“Ya know Danny, I guess it wouldn’t kill me to have another drink.”
He put another double Black Seal and TurboDawg down, “Compliments of da bitch.” We both laughed.
The 4 morons were seated in the front, and their leader boomed out, “With itty-bitty-titties like hers, shouldn’t she be called Alex?”
There was a quick cackle from Bonnie and a few of the cattier women, while the 4 morons guffawed like they were a real hoot.
Alexis ignored them and was leaning over the DJ’s stand getting her song straight–while straightening every guy in the place as her skirt crept higher and higher. It was at the bands of her white thigh-highs when she realized it and started tugging her dress back down. (Man, I’d love to get up close and personal to find out how she kept those seams so perfectly straight through it all.)
Danny elbowed me, “I bet you wished that you’d have talked to her earlier now, huh?”
“I didn’t come here to hit on anyone. Man, I just wanted to watch da goddamn game. Besides, I bet you had to have 3 forms of ID when you carded her.”
“Nah, just one… She’s over 21…”
“And I’m over twice her age…”
“Soooooo, girls like that don’t give the time of day to 40 year old writers… Especially not old, out of shape writers without a lot of cash from a best seller.”
“Man, she kept trying to talk to you.”
“I was watchin’ the game.”
“I could see that, dumbass.” Danny grinned.
“And you know me when I’m into a game–stuff around me is like one of those Charlie Brown cartoons… Like when the teacher speaks, all you hear is WAK… WAK… WAK… SQUAWK… SQUAWK… SQUAWK… WAK… WAK… WAK…”
“Geesh man, no wonder you ain’t been laid in forever–ya gotta learn to pay attention to da signs.”
“Besides, she was with the 4 morons.”
“Nah, they were riding her about her tiny tits, and were trying to get her to show them…”
“Danny, since when do you let morons insult your customers like that?”
“Since they’re Bonnie da bitch’s friends.”
“Sooooo… What do you know about Miss Alexis?”
“Not much, today’s the first time I ever saw her in here. But, sounds like ya want me to introduce ya to her?” He winked.
Before I could answer, he pointed to the stage, where Alexis was about to start. The morons continued their chant of “ITTY-BITTY TITTIES!!!” She fumbled with the mic as more of the catty single bitches started in, “ITTY-BITTY TITTIES!!! ITTY-BITTY TITTIES!!! ITTY-BITTY TITTIES!!!” You could see the embarrassment reddening her face.
Finally, the DJ interceded with the blarings of a Harley rumbling, a lil extra volume to shut down the morons. He backed it down as the opening chords wound down…
Alexis warbled weakly (and a beat late),
“Get your motor running…”
The moron leader shouts, “NOT WITH THOSE ITTY-BITTY TITTIES!!! MAYBE WE SHOULD CALL YOU ALEX WITH TITS LIKE THOSE.” His covey of cacklin’ hens roared, with Bonnie encouraging them on the side.
The more Alexis’ face reddened, the stronger her voice got.
“Head out on the highway…”
“You won’t make much out on that highway with them itty-bitty titties, babe, but I got $50 if you’ll whip ’em out in here.
Fighting back her tears, Alexis tried to sing over the moron.
“Lookin’ for adventure…”
That got Bonnie and the audience whipped into a real frenzy, “For a quick adventure, SHOW US YOUR ITTY-BITTY TITTIES!!! SHOW US YOUR ITTY-BITTY TITTIES!!! SHOW US YOUR ITTY-BITTY TITTIES!!!”
That was it, Alexis ran off the stage in tears. She ran right by me before I could say anything, and then sought refuge in the ladies room.
Bonnie strutted back to her MC role up on the stage, “I guess some girls just ain’t got the tits to perform.” She was groping her own silicone slut-bags the whole time she ravaged Alexis. “Next up, my friends, Paul, Cameron, Shaun, and their lead singer, Myron! Let’s give it up for my friends!” Bonnie led the applause.
The 4 morons got on-stage, gyratin’ and air guitarin’ (At least, I think that’s what ya call it. Though, I guess Slim Pickins said it best in Blazin’ Saddles, “Jumpin’ around like a bunch of Kansas City faggots…”) to Boy George’s Karma Chameleon.
All I could hear was, “WAK… WAK… WAK… SQUAWK… SQUAWK… yenimahalle escort SQUAWK… WAK… WAK… WAK…”
“Danny, I thought Mike banned EVERYTHING Boy George from his place?”
“He did. This is gonna get good tonight, you might wanna stick around.”
A couple of the cacklers headed towards the ladies’ room, eyes gleaming and ready for the kill.
I cut them off, “It’s out of order.”
“But we just saw someone go in there.”
“I SAID that it’s out of order, besides, it’s for ladies only. The one for bitches is at the gas station across the street.”
“Hey, we don’t deserve that…”
“Like she did?”
Their faces reddened slightly (I think) under their ton of makeup–hard to tell, with so much warpaint on.
I continued, “Y’all need to take your skanky asses back to your friends, and leave that lil girl alone.”
“Danny, you hear what this old fuck said to us?”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“I’m gonna buy him a drink for saying what I wished I had–while y’all take y’all’s skanky asses back to y’all’s friends.”
“Bonnie’s gonna hear about this…”
I raised my arms above my head, stamped my foot, and went, “BOO!!!”
The two skanks ran back to their friends as fast as their skanky-assed legs could carry them.
Danny got us each a round.
“I thought you couldn’t drink while on shift?”
“Somehow, I got da feelin’ this is my last shift here.”
“Rum for my men, beer for da horses.” We clinked glasses and downed our shots.
The 4 morons finished up on their song, and Bonnie got up to introduce the next singer. This went on for the next half hour or so.
Finally Danny said, “Hey, I’ll be back.”
“Where ya goin’? You really gonna leave me here alone with all these assholes?”
“That lil girl still hasn’t come out of the ladies room, I need to go check up on her. Unlessssss…..”
“Unless you want to go give her a shoulder to cry on before you wipe away her tears.”
I threw a bar rag at him, “Yeah, just what I need, get arrested as a prevert for sneaking into the ladies room. Geeesh.”
Danny disappeared into the ladies room for about 10 minutes, before finally re-emerging with Alexis in tow. She took her old seat at the other end of the bar.
Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was still sniffling. I wanted so bad to just wrap her in my arms and take her away from these assholes that had hurt her so bad.
“Danny, whatever she wants, it’s on me.”
“You look like you could use a drink.”
Alexis glared at me. Her eyes were the hardest blue I have ever seen in my life. “Maybe, but the only thing I want from you, is for you to leave me the hell alone. So, just go back to your buddies and tell them that the President of the Itty-Bitty Titty Committee said that you guys don’t have enough money for me to show my lil bitty titties.”
Danny jumped in, “No Alexis, this is the guy I was telling you about. Your guard dog at the door. He was the one that sent those catty bitches running back where they came from.”
When she turned back to face me, her eyes were the most gorgeous twinkling sapphires–they absolutely glowed. (Gawd, I want so bad to see them in the dark.) “I’m sorry, that was so rude of me.”
“Don’t worry about it. With the night you’ve had, it’s understandable.” She smiled.
“You really went BOO, and they ran?”
“Yup, like they thought I was da Lupe Garou, and they had only seconds to live.” (I swear, her eyes twinkled even brighter.)
“Da Lupe Garou?”
“uhhhh… Just think Cajun werewolf.”
“Ahhh… ok… Thanks (another smile), I’d love a frozen margarita.”
“You got it.” I nodded at Danny.
“So, why’d ya put up with them?”
“I’ve put up with worse–I came down with a church group to rebuild New Orleans.”
(I shuddered, OMG a freakin’ church girl.)
She continued, “But they have a problem with us single gals fuckin’. (I almost broke my neck lookin’ back.) And a girl needs her dick. (Sorry guys, I admit, I blushed and looked down. I swear she giggled at me.)
About that time, the 4 morons were back on stage, this time doing something from A Flock Of Seagulls.
Alexis visibly shuddered. Danny brought her drink as well as a round for me and him. She took her first big sip and smiled.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!!! First Boy George, and now A Flock Of fuckin’ Seagulls, Danny, you wanna bet da 4 morons ain’t fuckin’ closet blow-buddies?”
Alexis spit her mouthful of margarita on Danny laughing. Danny was more frozen than that margarita, until I started laughing, too. Then he had to laugh also.
When the laughing died down, he replied, “Not a prayer of me taking that bet. I figure they gotta use strap-ons on themselves.”
I replied, “Yeah, I doubt there’s a pair between the 4 of ’em, much less a Man-tool.”
Then Alexis popped off, “Besides, all 4 of them got bigger tits than me.”
This time, I spit my beer on Danny and we laughed for the cycle again.
I finally caught my breath, and started to reply, when Alexis started wiggling her chest at me.
I lost it again. Danny was doubled up in laughter.
Every time one of us would start to say anything, she’d just wiggle her tits at us and glow.
Finally, a lack of oxygen made me face the wall away from her, “Alexis, STOP THAT!!! How’d you like it if I came over there and started waggin’ my… my… my tallywhacker in your face? (Sorry, we were laughing more than the teachers in the principal’s office in Porky’s, during the tallywhacker scene, so I just had to use that word.)
“Depends. If I catch it, do I get to play with it?” (Gawd this girl was a trip.)
“So, if I come over there and grab your titties when you’re shaking them at me, I can play with them?”
“Only if you take me home with ya.” Then she realized I was watching her in the mirror, and she started shaking her tits again, even wilder this time.
“OK, you win. I’ll take you home with me. Just please stop shakin’ your titties at me so I can face ya.”
“You haven’t caught me yet. But turn around, I’ll stop.” Then she shook her chest one last time while I looked in the mirror.
I turned around, and of course, she shook them once again, “Hey… Cut that out…”
“Oh my gawd! Danny, you see how red he is?”
They both started laughing at my embarrassment, and all I could do was shake my head and try to ignore them.
“Wayne, if you’re gonna shake it, shake it like this…”
Choking back the laughter, I just laid my forehead on the bar. I didn’t even have to look to see Alexis shaking her tits–the image was burned into my rum-sotted brain.
“Danny, has he ever seen titties before? I swear, I think he’s getting a hard-on over my itty-bitty titties. Hold on, let me check.” Alexis bent over and looked around the corner of the bar, “Yup, I can see his lil chubby pitchin’ a tent in his jeans.”
My two bar buddies started laughing at my chubby on his lil camping trip, and all I could do was pound my head into the bar.
Bonnie came flitting over to see what all the laughing was about, and I finally had a chance to catch my breath. “I see that you’ve decided to rejoin us–I didn’t think you had the tits for it.” Before Alexis could say anything, she started on Danny, “What did I tell you about drinking on shift?”
I interrupted to keep the bloodshed to a minimum, “Excuse me, is it too late to do a song?”
Bonnie looked at Alexis’ face, then turned to look at me, “Yeah, we’re shutting it down for the night.”
I gave Alexis a quick wink out of the eye Bonnie couldn’t see, “Too bad, I thought I could close da show with David Allen Coe’s Itty-Bitty Titties.” I gave Bonnie a wink.
She thought about it for a second, peeked at Alexis, then looked back at me. (I swear I could see that evil glint of female bitchiness in her eyes.) “I think we can do that.” And she was off to the stage in a run.
No sooner than Bonnie turned, Alexis winked at me and shook her tits.
I started walking over to the stage before she gave me another laughing fit.
Danny leaned in close to Alexis, “What cha wanna bet he ain’t gonna sing that song?”
“You think because I’m blonde, and young that I’m THAT stupid? I’m not dumb enough to be a bottle blonde, and I’m not so young that I was born last night—you carded me, remember? Y’all two have probably been partners in crime since before I was born.”
Danny poured her a shot of his top-shelf Don Downem tequila, and put the bottle on the bar between them, “I gotta say, you’re smarter than the aaaaverrrrrage blonde, BooBoo.” He nodded at Bonnie, and then downed his shot.
“Touche.” And she downed hers.
Danny refilled both glasses, “This ought to be good,”
Bonnie was at the mic, meanness just dripped from her face like sweat off a cheap ‘ho’s moneymaker, “Ladies and gentlemen, to close out our Valentine’s Day Karaoke Night, doing a special dedication to our first singer, Alexis. Here’s Wayne and Itty-Bitty Titties. The crowd went nuts.
I had to quiet the crowd down, “Bonnie, I’m sorry, but I think you might have misunderstood what I said. I could see the hatred building her face, as I continued, “I have a dedication for the 4 morons up front from Alexis, THE President of the Itty-Bitty Titty Committee.”
I turned and bowed to Alexis and Danny. They saluted me with their tequilas and then downed them. And Alexis started shaking her tits at the crowd.
I turned to the DJ, “Don’t worry about the music, besides, they all look like they’re into that rap crap, so I’ll just do it in a cowboy rap, acapelly-style. Myron, this one’s for you. And you too, Bonnie.”
Were you born an asshole…
The crowd was shocked. SILENCE!
Or did you work at it your whole life…
As I continued singing, half the place broke out in applause.
Yes, you’re an A-S-S-H-O-L-E…
Bonnie started yelling for the DJ to pull the plug. But he was too busy pissin’ in his pants laughin’…
You deserve all the credit…
Besides, Mike was guarding the power panel like da Dome Patrol used to guard da end zone from opposing teams.
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