door, and as we sat sipping wine and waiting for our food we’d both begun to study the locals. Stacey knew my tastes and couldn’t resist teasing.
‘Which one for you then? How about the one who looks like a lumberjack boss?’
‘Stacey! If you mean the man in the red shirt, he has to be sixty, at least.’
‘So what? He’s big, he’s rough, and just look at his hands.’
I couldn’t help but do it, my eyes going straight to where Stacey had indicated. He’d just lifted his pint of beer, and I had to admit that she had a point. His hands were huge, his skin rough and dark from the sun and the wind, his fingers at least twice as thick as my own. If he’d been holding me, each hand could have cupped most of my bottom, and I immediately found myself imagining how it would feel to be across his knee, which sent the blood rushing to my face. Stacey laughed for how easily she’d got to me and tried again.
‘Or how about Redbeard the Pirate over there, at the table next to the bar? He must be six foot six, and he looks just the sort to carry you off over his shoulder and do unspeakable things to you in the bushes.’
She knew full well it was one of my favourite fantasies, while the man also looked quite like my boyfriend, Magnus, back in London, so I stuck my tongue out at her and tried to get her back.
‘How about you then? Maybe the old boy drinking red wine, the military type. He’d soon have you doing drill, and when you messed up …’
She knew what I was implying, as she was from an army family, and her mouth came open in shock as the blood went to her face in turn.
‘Lucy, you are the limit! Anyway, I don’t go for older men, unlike you. There’s only one man I’d even consider, Mr Blue at the far end of the bar.’
It was obvious who she meant. He was a little over six foot tall, with a pale-blue top that showed every detail of a superbly muscled torso, baggy white tracksuit bottoms that nevertheless hinted at an intriguingly large bulge in his crotch, and obviously expensive trainers. I couldn’t really deny that he was attractive, but while he undoubtedly radiated confidence, even arrogance, he seemed to me to lack the charm a man like that needs in order to appeal to me. There was something else too, perhaps in the way he held himself, maybe simply the way he was dressed, or something less easily defined.
‘He’s gay.’
‘What, because he’s showing off his muscles? He’s probably been running.’
‘Why isn’t he sweating then?’
‘OK, so he’s about to go for a run.’
At that moment the man turned in our direction too suddenly to allow us to hide our rather obvious attention. I found myself blushing again, but Stacey merely smiled, far better able to handle the situation than I was. Fortunately we were saved by the landlord, who’d just asked Mr Blue a question, and the arrival of our food. Nevertheless, I was feeling a little uneasy as we settled down to eat, and all the more so when I was obliged to make a trip to the loo and found his eyes following me all the way and all the way back. Stacey was merely amused, and a little excited.
‘He’s not gay then, is he? His eyes were glued to your arse, not that I blame him, if you must wiggle like that, you little show off.’
‘I wasn’t wiggling! What if he makes a pass at me?’
‘Turn him down. Maybe he’ll try me instead.’
‘Stacey, you wouldn’t! You’re supposed to be with me, at least while we’re away together.’
‘That’s OK, you can watch. Or maybe I’ll spank you in front of him to get things going. I bet he’d love that, right after you’d turned him down.’
‘Stacey!’
‘I’m only joking, silly. He is nice, but like you say, we’re together. Besides, if he approached you first I’d hardly take him up on an offer later, would I? I do have some pride. Shall I get another bottle?’
‘Yes, why not?’
The man continued to watch us as we drank our wine, sometimes from the corner of his eyes, sometimes openly. Stacey had grown bored with the game and ignored him, but it was harder for me because of where I was sitting; I found it impossible not to glance in his direction from time to time. He noticed and his interest increased, making me ever more flustered and less able to look away. I was sure he was going to come over to us at any moment, and wasn’t at all looking forward to the embarrassment of having to turn him down. Finally Stacey got fed up with my behaviour.
‘Look, Lucy, if you want to go three in a bed that’s fine, but either go and invite him over or stop flirting with him.’
‘I’m not flirting with him!’
‘Yes you are, and you know it. OK, I’ll go and talk to him then.’
She’d already half risen and I quickly reached out to put my hand over hers and stop her, although I was no longer sure what I wanted. The wine we’d drunk had started to get to me, and he did have a very fine body, while Stacey’s threat to spank me in front of him had triggered one of my favourite fantasies, punishment in front of a man who then got to do as he pleased with my body, which would be more humiliating by far if I’d turned him down earlier. He’d seen it too, and now he knew that something was up, bringing my feelings of shame and uncertainty up further still. Stacey spoke as she sat down again.
‘You go then. Look, he’s looking right at you.’
He was, leaning against the bar with his drink in one hand, watching us with open admiration. I imagined his amusement as I was turned over Stacey’s knee in front of him, and how he’d be thinking what a little pervert I was to get off on being spanked by my friend even as his cock started to grow to the sight of my rear view being exposed. Or maybe he’d want to do me too, and once I’d been reduced to a red-bottomed, tear-stained mess he’d certainly want me to take his cock in my mouth and complete my humiliation by sucking him off. I could do it too, if I just had a few minutes of easy, friendly conversation to let me know that whatever his reaction to my sexuality he genuinely thought of me as more than just a sexy body with a set of conveniently wet holes to stick his erection into.
‘OK, I’ll do it.’
I got up, less than perfectly steady on my feet and feeling very insecure indeed. He saw and gave me a grin that was pure, arrogant self-assurance, to which I returned a nervous smile. I reached the bar and he said something I didn’t catch as the landlady spoke to me, asking if Stacey and I would like any dessert. The moment was broken, and once I’d politely refused and she’d moved away I found myself standing next to him at the bar, completely lost. He wasn’t, moving close and putting one strong hand on the small of my back as he spoke.
‘Hey, Blondie, how about I slip eight inches of rock-hard dick up your sweet little cunt?’
As he spoke his hand had strayed down to the turn of my bottom. It was far too much, far too soon. Before I really knew what I was doing I’d swung around, to plant a slap full across his face, hard enough to knock him back and leave a livid handprint on his flesh. For one awful moment I thought he was going to hit me back, but he got himself under control just as the landlord returned to the bar, while three men at the nearest table had half risen from their seats. There was a brief, aggressive exchange of words,
