Member Rating out of 5 matchsticks Posted June 2005

McKenzie

by Fitz Thompson

We locked eyes for the second time across the bar. My gaze had drifted to her several times during the band's second set, but she had always been deep in conversation or looking elsewhere. Now she was looking only at me. She didn't drop her stare immediately, as strangers sometimes do when they make eye contact and then keep moving. She was looking right at me, taking me all in.

I was sitting in a corner table, alone. I had just gotten off work. The late shift, again. My only consolation was that I got to enjoy a beer or three afterwards. I'm not that special, just a guy in the back eating French fries, a bottle in front of me, smoking too much.

I had noticed her as soon as she walked in, as did most of the guys in the place. She didn't turn heads with her looks alone, though she was quite nice to look at. It was her attitude and presence that did it for me. She carried herself as if she was capable of taking whatever was tossed at her. Confidence is sexy.

She was tiny, barely five feet tall and thin. You'd think one drink would do her in. Her brown hair was in twin pigtails that hung to just below her shoulders. She had on a white stretch tank top, no bra. This was nice because everyone got a good look at her pierced nipples. Tight blue jeans and jackboots completed her outfit. What really turned me on, besides her confident swagger, was her ink.

Both arms were sleeved to the elbow, scenes of pixies and fairies and plant life. A small ideogram was on the back of her neck, framed by her braids. When her tank rode up, I could see something peeking out at the small of her back. Ink is sexy in my eyes.

She had come in with another girl, pretty, but not entrancing like this one. They sat at the bar, talking, drinking beer after beer, noticing the looks they both received. They'd come to see the band, obviously, and during the break they had chatted up the drummer and bassist. The talk was close, intimate. I didn't know if any of them were together, but they knew each other on at least some personal level.

The boys from the band left the girls to go plug in. I wasn't checking out the ladies in the room; most were quite out of my league. But the girl ... the girl was so tasty, I couldn't resist giving it a one time. And there she was, looking hard at me. I dropped my eyes immediately, embarrassed, not wanting to look weird or anything. I kept my eyes on the band for a few songs, and then I looked over at the girls, and there she was again, looking. At first, I thought maybe she was checking out some guy behind me, but when I looked, there were only empty tables.

As I turned back around, I saw that some guy had come up to them at the bar and was making talk. There was some laughing and mild flirting, the girl's green eyes twinkling in the bar light. She lit a cigarette, took a drink, chuckled at something the guy said and looked over the room at me, a half smile on her face. She turned to look at the guy, who was now checking out the band. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. This made me smile a bit at the foolishness of most guys who can't seem to think without their dicks. It was a nice moment to share between strangers in a semi-crowded bar. I raised my longneck to her, and she did the same in my direction. We drank to silly boys from across the room.

The guy got his beer and the look on his face as he returned to his table promised he'd return. The look on her face told him she wouldn't mind that at all. Sure she enjoyed the attention. Who wouldn't?

I went back to my fries and the band, and that was it until they started a cover of 'Hey Joe,' an all-time favorite of mine. The singer did it a fair amount of justice, but real kudos went to the guitarist, who ripped the shit out of the solos. I was so into the song, my beer and my smoke that I didn't even notice her until she was almost right next to me. She was heading for the bathrooms, but her eyes were on me. Well, me and my food. I smiled at her as she passed, and she returned it with a glint in her eye. I've never been real good at flirting, but I think that's what she was doing.

I returned my attentions to the band, who were jamming out the song to include bits of The Who, more Hendrix, what I think was Smashing Pumpkins and Morrissey of all things. I couldn't tell if I was supposed to be impressed or scared.

I felt a presence to my right and turned to look as she passed me. She went to my side of the bar and got a bottle. I don't know if she knew I was checking her out as she stood there, elbows on the bar, foot cocked up on the rail, ass sticking out just so much ... but she probably did. Girls who look like she does are aware of the looks they get. She had to know I was locked.

As she turned around, I quickly returned my eyes to the band, which was just coming back into the song proper. I froze as she turned and walked over to my table, stopping next to me at my seat. I looked at her, the height of the stool making us almost eye level.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," I said.

"Are you still eating those?" She indicated my fries.

"Yeah, but they're kind of cold."

"Cold fries are okay."

I laughed a little. "If you say so." I pushed the plate closer to her. "Have at them."

She brightened. "Mmm, thanks." She wolfed three, drowned in ketchup. "Yummy. Thank you."

"No problem. I'm always happy to help out." Now if I had been intentionally flirting with this girl, this might have sounded different to my ears. Again, I'm not very good at flirtations, so I missed any undertones.

"Always?" She bit four more fries in half, covered the remaining with ketchup, and down they went.

"Well, unless I'm in the middle of ... y'know, surgery or something."

She laughed. Good times.

"You should buy me a beer."

"But you just bought a beer."

"No I didn't." She proved this by not drinking from the bottle she had just not gotten at the bar.

"Why don't you buy me a beer?" I was almost empty and needed more liquid courage.

"Girls don't buy boys beer. Boys are supposed to buy girls beer."

"Yeah, if they're trying to get them drunk."

"Exactly." She didn't take another drink from the beer she didn't have.

"How can I buy you a drink if I don't know your name?"

"It's McKenzie." She offered her tiny hand, the one not holding the bottle she wasn't drinking from.

"Fitz." We shook perfunctorily: squeeze, two pumps, release.

"Okay, Fitz, now can you buy me a beer?"

I laughed. "Finish the one you're not drinking and I'll buy the next one."

She smiled, and the muscles in my lap fluttered. "Goody. I'll be over there, sitting at the bar."

I nodded. "I know."

She took a few steps and looked back at me. "I know you know." She smiled at me again and made my stomach do pushups and my dick do somersaults. She took her seat and leaned in close to talk to her friend as the band finished the song. For the next 10 minutes or so, I watched the band play and McKenzie talk to her friend. We traded looks a few times and I observed the beer in her glass getting lower and lower.

She noticed me noticing.

A few minutes later she tipped her glass back and drained the last of her alcohol. She brought the pint down with authority and giggled at something her friend said. She looked over at me and mouthed, "Now you have to buy me a beer."

Getting better at this flirting thing, I motioned that, due to the band, I couldn't hear what she was saying. She mouthed it again, and again I pretended deafness. She finally rolled her eyes at me and got up off her stool. She only wobbled once as she made her way to my table from across the bar.

"I said, now you have to buy me another drink."

"How many have you had tonight?"

"Here, or at home?"

"Here."

She stole a cigarette and my lighter. This was sexy, too. "Five." She blew out smoke in twin streams from her nostrils. "I think."

I was stunned. A tiny thing like her putting away five tallboys? I told her so and she laughed at me. "Yeah, I get that a lot. I may not look like much, but I can put em away when I want to."

"Not look like much? You look pretty okay to me."

She smiled at me, slightly biting her bottom lip in a way that made my cock twinge. "Thanks."

I finished my own beer. "Well ... yeah."

She picked up my empty bottle and took it to the bar. "Buy me a drink!"

I laughed at her as I stood and got next to her at the bar. I signaled to Seth (the bartender) to make it two more. He nodded at me appreciatively and brought them over, twisting the caps off with bartender panache.

"One for you, Fitz, and one for the lady."

She said thanks and looked at him as she kissed the brown glass of the open mouth. I've never been jealous of a bottle before.

I took my beer back to my table and said, just as the band started playing again, "I gotta go pee. I'll be right back." She nodded with an odd look in her eye as I grinned at her. "It's okay. I promise!"

"If you say so."

I turned and went back to the bathrooms. They were nice, because there was actually a little room to move around in. Not much, but it was more than just a door and a stall or toilet.

Ask anyone who's about to break the seal when they've been drinking for a while, nothing feels as good as that first piss. For a guy, it comes from somewhere around your ankles and roils and boils its way through the guts and out the urethra and into the bowl and it feels almost like an orgasm, especially if you've held it for a while.

This is how it was for me, with the sigh of release and the eyes slightly rolling back into the head. I had to put my hand on the door, which is beside the toilet, to brace myself. It was a good, intense feeling.

Right where my hand was, I felt a knock a split second before I heard it. I took a whoa moment and told whoever it was I'd be out in a second. I shook off and zipped up and checked my pants in the mirror before I opened the door and saw McKenzie standing there, my beer in one hand and my smokes in the other.

I felt a bewildered smile on my face as I said, "Yes?"

McKenzie said nothing as she stepped into the bathroom with me and pulled it shut behind her, locking us in.

"Uh, McKenzie? What are you doing?" Not that I minded necessarily, it was just all of a sudden I had this hot girl holding a beer with me in the boys bathroom of a bar. And it was only Wednesday.

She simply said, "Here." She held out the beer and the pack of cigarettes, leaving me no choice but to take them from her. She then moved and put the toilet seat down and sat. I thought she was going to take her pants down and squat and hover right in front of me, but instead she put her hand on the front of my pants and began to rub my crotch. As good as it felt, my first reaction was to back away as far as the tiny room would allow, which wasn't more than a few steps backwards into the sink.

"Whoa!"

She looked at me with her green eyes, flushed with alcohol.  "What? You said "Come back with me."

"What??"

"That's what you said."

"I said, I have to go pee, I'll be right back."

She looked a little horrified. "Oh shit. I'm so sorry." She stood up to leave, her face in her hands. I said, "Hang on. That didn't mean I wanted you to stop." I leaned down and kissed her, a little hesitant at first but more and more, as much as I could without using my hands. She kissed me back, clacking her tongue bar off the back of my teeth. She moved against me, pushing me further against the sink, running her hands through my short hair before lacing them behind my neck, pulling me tighter against her, sucking hard on my tongue. I was getting hard now, and she could feel it somewhere against her belly. She moved her torso up and down, creating friction against our skin and clothes.

Her hands still locked around my neck, she broke the kiss, bringing our foreheads together and meeting my eyes. "I have to warn you."

We were both breathing hard now. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. "About what?"

"I'm not very good at kissing."

I kissed her again, saying, "Bullshit. You're plenty good."

She shook her head, not leaving contact with mine. "No, I mean I'm not good at just kissing."

I swallowed again. "Oh."

"Yeah."

I set the bottle in the sink behind me and put my cigarette pack in my back pocket, my hands finally free. "I guess I'm in trouble then."

I put both hands under her ass and lifted her up, stepping forward so she could wrap her legs around my waist. I kissed her again, more forcefully this time. I heard a small whimper escape from her as I moved her up and down, our groins finally where they wanted to be. I held her like this for a bit before turning around and holding her against the door, bending slightly at the knee for more leverage. As I pushed her against the door, she threw her head back with so much force it connected with the wood, making the sound of a baseball tossed at drywall.

I froze, unsure if she was hurt or not. She stiffened, bringing one of her hand up to check the damage. She also started laughing in that embarrassed, inebriated way that meant she was all right. It was infectious, because I'd had a few myself, and I began laughing too.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I think we need to switch, though."

"Ha ha. Okay." I gently put her down and she stepped over to the sink to make a visual inspection. As she looked in the mirror, I came up behind her and looked myself.

"Does it look okay?"

Not looking at her head, I told her things looked pretty good.

She arched her back, pushing her ass against me. She could feel my stiffness and rose up on her tiptoes, grinding her ass into my pelvis. I moaned as she reached behind her and rubbed the front of my jeans where my cock was hard in my right pocket. I leaned down and kissed her neck, running my tongue from where her ink started up to her earlobe, biting gently. She shuddered, inhaling sharply as she did. Her hand began rubbing faster, gripping my dick through my jeans tightly.

McKenzie bent over the sink and unsnapped her jeans, pushing them down to her knees. She wasn't wearing any panties. Again she wriggled her ass against the front of my pants, and I needed no more encouragement. I undid the button on my own jeans and unzipped them, finally letting some air into my groin. I pushed my boxers and pants down in one motion and grabbed the base of my cock, putting it against McKenzie's wetness. I rubbed the tip of it against her slit, spreading her warmth around. I pulled back slightly as I spit into my palm and rubbed it around the shaft of my dick, preparing it for our sex. She moaned as I pulled away, then gasped as I put the head right back into her slit, just inside the lips.

She did the rest; pushing back onto me, wet enough so that I slid in nearly all the way. She moved forward then pumped back again, this time taking me to the hilt. I could see her gritting her teeth and scrunching her face in the mirror, and this excited me even more than I had been. She moved against me again and again, slowly at first but with increasing urgency with each thrust. She was working faster and faster, taking me harder until she pulled forward until I was almost out of her, then slammed me back into her, finally grinding her ass against my belly, as far inside her as I could be.

I took this as my cue to take over, so I grabbed her tiny looking hips and began fucking her hard and fast, making the sink rattle against the wall as she held onto the rim for balance. I leaned back slightly for both leverage and a better view and fucked her as fast as I could before the strength in my legs gave out. I took her ass in my hands and spread her cheeks, rewarded with the view of my cock pounding in and out of her pussy, and her tight hairless asshole gleaming pink.

I leaned over her a bit and reached around to rub her clit, hoping to get her off before I did. I found her button and dipped a bit into her pussy, getting what wetness wasn't on my dick on the tips of my fingers. I rubbed her clit, surprised to find a little hoop through the hood. I pulled on it slightly, and she rose up on her toes, stiffening as if shocked.

"Oh God," she moaned.

"You okay?" She sounded like she was dying. It was funny: I was genuinely concerned, but I wasn't going to stop fucking her until I was good and ready. It's tough being a guy, sometimes.

"Don't stop. Don't you fucking stop."

So I didn't. I kept slamming into her, grinding into her as she had done to me, driving as deep as I could into her pussy. Maybe five minutes had gone by when she came all at once like she had been shot . She froze, nothing moving but her hips, still bucking against mine. I stopped, letting her finish herself off, taking my hands off her clit and hip. Her arms and legs locked, she didn't make a sound, her face frozen in a grimace that could have been orgasm or charley horse.

Finally she went limp, so much so that I had to wrap my arm around her torso to hold her up. Her arms and legs were like spaghetti, her head hanging down into the sink, her braids swinging against the porcelain.

She spoke, winded. "Oh my god." She took a few breaths before continuing. "I always come pretty hard, but ... Jesus."

I laughed, a little winded myself. "You wanna go back now?"

She stood up, tired and sweaty but determined. "No way. I wanna get that nut." She pushed me back until she had room to squat down on the floor and take my dick into her mouth. She worked her tongue bar, hands and mouth like a porn star. I've never been with a woman who worked a dick like she did. The very thought of what she was doing to me in a public bathroom had my legs trembling and my calves clenching, and soon my nuts were as tight as a drum head. She saw this and began to pump her head and hands faster, working me just as I had worked her earlier.

"Ah, Jesus, that's it. This is it...." I began to mumble incoherently as she grabbed the base of my dick with one hand, my sack in the other and began to suck on just the head. It was too much; I was going over.

"Do you want it in your mouth?"

She didn't reply but only kept sucking, drawing my come straight from the source. I wasn't able to hold back any longer. I popped my cock out of her mouth and said, in true porn star fashion, "Here it is." Yeah, I know. Me and Peter North, right?

I beat my dick furiously over her mouth, which she held open, tongue out, barbell glinting in the overhead fluorescents. It seemed like the sperm would never end, it just kept pumping out of my dick in spurt after spurt. It landed on her outstretched tongue, her lips, her cheek, her hair, her forehead. It was a little gross, but exciting at the same time.

Spent, I slouched against the door, my body quaking, my calves on fire from clenching to the point of cramping. She cleaned off the rest of my dick, lapping at it like a cat, making me twitch with reaction. Then, matter-of-factly, she stood up (a little too fast; she stumbled into me a bit) and went to clean herself off in the mirror.

"Will you hand me some toilet paper?" was all she said. We left each other to our thoughts as we rearranged ourselves, both clothes and composure. At some point, she had put the beer bottle on the floor, and now we both drank deeply from it, parched.

As she opened the door on the way out, she looked back and said, "Next beer is on me."

- End -

Fitzpatrick Thompson was Alex Firestone's assistant in 2005, appeared in three of Alex's movies, helped Alex compile and create audio for the BoobBlaster video game, and wrote occasional articles in Alex's News & Mail Section.  He married one of Alex's nannies and now they have something like eleven children (one, followed by another one) ... OK, maybe two children.  His incredibly gorgeous wife, though never a Fire Girl, is the sultry female voice heard extensively in BoobBlaster.