Happy Hour- I have become a regular at a local bar known for it's late night happy hour.

It attracts a lot of bartenders and service people who get off late in the evening, and has a regular late night bartender. Her name is Sheila, and she is one great looking woman. She is 26, and has a body that brings the regulars back for more. On occasion I have made a pass or two, but with no luck. I went in last Tuesday on a rainy, nasty night to find the bar almost empty and Sheila bored with two stupid, drunk car salesmen who thought they were funny. They told lame jokes and frequently commented on Sheila's round, firm soft place, barely contained in short, black leather shorts.

While they amused themselves, Sheila slipped around the bar and with a devilish smile my direction, set the clock ahead almost two hours. She then called last call, and began cleaning the liquor bottles. The car salesmen cursed the time and left with a final invitation for Sheila to show them a good time in their demo convertible. As they left Sheila locked the door behind them, and said I was welcome to stay and keep her company. "No objection, your honor" I said in my best second year law school voice. After a few minutes, Sheila finished cleaning and came to sit beside me. She asked me if I "smoked", and did I mind if she rolled a joint. I wasn't in any position to object, and told her so. She threw a small baggy on the counter and told me to roll one as she walked to the bathroom. As I watched her walk away, I couldn't help staring at one the nicest soft placees I had ever seen, and hurried to do as she asked. When she came back I offered her a perfect, tight roll, and saw a look in her eyes.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" she said as she struck a light. She inhaled deeply and let her head roll back, exposing the top of two large round breasts from her deep scooped tee shirt. As I looked, stared really, her eyes slowly opened and she caught me red handed. She didn't say anything, but returned the stare at my rapidly expanding cargo shorts. She asked me to take a hit, telling me she didn't like to smoke alone.

I didn't hesitate. As I began to feel the effect, I lost any reservations and asked her if she'd ever made it in the bar. She inhaled again, and stood up -taking me by the hand to a small poolroom off to the side of the bathrooms. My mind was racing, as she grabbed a bottle of liquor from the storeroom. She dropped a dollar in the jukebox and motioned me over. I slid my hands around those firm cheeks feeling the heat through the leather. As I began kissing and probing her ear and neck, she pushed me against the wall. "I'll tell you when I want that shit", she hissed. I thought it was falling apart, when she suddenly ripped her shirt over her head and threw it to the floor. The aureoles were large and dark, with large tits fully aroused. I walked to her, but she pushed me back against the wall. She slipped out of her heels and jumped onto the pool table, mouthing the words to "I can't get no satisfaction." I had been driven back twice, but now I didn't care. I immediately grabbed and unfastened her shorts, slipping them off in one practiced move.

There was the prettiest shaved softness I had ever seen. The outer folds were swollen, and the moisture hung in the air. I moved in closer for a taste, and felt her close her legs around my head in a vice grip. "Not yet, you sensitive place" she shouted over Mick Jagger in the background. She grabbed the liquor bottle and twisted the cap off in one move.

"You came here for a drink, so get a shot of this.

" as she tilted the bottle over her breasts. The liquid slid over her chest, down around her belly ring and into the crack of heat in front of me.

I ran my tongue around the belly ring and down, probing with my tongue as I felt the heat of the liquor in my throat.

I lapped it up like a greedy sailor on shore leave for the first time. As she continued to pour, I continued to oblige. Soon I felt her legs tighten, and saw the belly ring begin to rise higher as she drew in short breaths. As she began to twist and turn, I stopped and stood, all the while watching her on the brink. If looks could kill, she would have dropped me right there. "Not yet, you sensitive place" I shot at her over the top of Bob Seger and "Turn the page". "Turn over", I told her as I dropped my shorts to the floor. She turned over and watched as I put my hardon across the edge of the table.

She slid on all fours to the edge and immediately I felt incredible heat as her lips closed over me. She knew what she was doing as she worked me up and down with her right hand and her mouth, closing and opening, sliding down the shaft then taking all seven inches in one throw. I felt it building and could hardly stand. All at once, I lost balance and pitched forward as load after load pumped out of me. She didn't miss a drop. I jumped onto the pool table and slid in behind her, still completely erect and probing from behind, finding her softness fully opened, sliding in to the hilt in a single motion. She bucked against me, as I buried myself deep inside that heat. There was no point of return, as she closed herself with every downstroke, gripping me, refusing to let me escape.

I felt a second wave of heat pulsing through my length, as she shuddered and began to scream. "Play me, oh play me, yes, don't you stop, don't...

you...

don't." I felt her shudder from head to toe, unable to speak. Slowly I loosened my grip and let her go limp, as she slipped on down to the green felt of the table. Our fluids dripped onto the table, forming a small puddle as I lay on top of her.

We dressed and cleaned up, just in time as a small group of frat boys arrived, banging on the door, demanding beer.

They sized her up like pack wolves, throwing her lines and telling stupid jokes.

I watched as she drew them a pitcher, then gave them change for the pool table.

I smiled and thought about how much I love happy hour.