Sharon a twenty-eight year old secretary was average build and not so stunning to look at that she would dominate a room upon entering but neither was she distasteful to look at. In fact she would easily pass as twenty one instead of her 28 years. The true story I am about to relate was told to me by Sharon and although names and places have been changed it is as she told me.
She was walking home on a balmy warm summers evening in July of 1990 and because it had been in the middle of a so called heat wave, she was wearing a light flowery dress which clung to her 38 C bust line which did not look out of place on her medium five foot five frame. As it was a Friday and she was not working now until Monday she took a fateful decision to go to her local pub for a drink, unaware as to where this would lead.
She entered the Queens Head public bar and pressed her way through the crowd towards the bar itself; although the bar was not overly full it just seemed everyone was congregating around the bar area. Eventually she pressed her stomach against the wooden bar and tried to attract the barmaid’s attention, suddenly she felt extra pressure behind her in fact she could have sworn that she felt a stiff prick pressing into the groove of her arse but surely that could not be so.
Eventually she managed to order her drink but the object pressing into her behind had begun to slide as if the person was fucking her from behind. She tried to twist around to see who this person was but no sooner did she manage to twist enough to see the culprit then the pressure was gone and it could have been anyone of three males all making out to attract the barmaids attention.
She decided not to make a scene; so she squeezed passed the crowd and made her way to a vacant table which seemed to be in a deserted area of the pub. Sitting there now she reflected upon what had just happened and found herself daydreaming with her eyes open as she replayed the events in her mind. Only in her mind both she and the male were naked. She found her cunt began to itch not in a bad way but more in an excited happy way. She wanted so much to slide her hand between her legs and attend to her cunt’s needs but instead she clamped her legs tightly together.
All too soon her drink was gone and she contemplated fighting her way to the bar when all of a sudden a man she did not know placed a full glass of her drink in front of her and simply said with my compliments. Now normally Sharon would have instantly refused the offer of a drink but as this one had been ordered and she assumed paid for it would simply be a waste, so she thanked the guy and took hold of the glass. As she raised the glass she went to say “cheers!” but the guy had disappeared back into the crowd. This set her mind wandering if it had been this man she had felt at the bar; if it was she was sorry to see him go for he looked kind and sort of semi handsome.
Looking at her watch, she realised that she was going to be late, not for some overly important meet but late to feed her precious cat, Garfield; named after the cartoon cat of that time, he was always fed at 7.00pm sharp and although her cat could not talk she knew by his arrogant actions he would not be pleased. He had a way of ignoring her after being fed late and making her sense his annoyance all night but come next morning if he was fed at 6.30 am as usual he would purr around her feet until she left for work or shopping at the weekend. Sharon now swigged down the drink in one go and walked calmly out of the public house. Immediately the air hit her like an atom bomb she seemed to lose all sense of balance and her head was spinning.