I met Sarah at a time when I thought most of my sexual adventures had already happened. Closer to 40 than 30, I’d been divorced for a couple of years and hadn’t really had any meaningful encounters with a lady I had any interest in at all in that time. A friend had persuaded me to come to a singles night at a bar in town, and I didn’t get out much so off I went. The best decision I ever made. Nick, my mate, who was fairly happily married, was really just along for the ride – My Wingman, as he put it.

I’d never attended such an event, and I wasn’t hugely hopeful as to the prospects when we entered the main bar area of the pub, having confirmed our names and paid the £10 entry fee. The bar was largely empty, possibly 20 people were in attendance, in small pockets, and mostly male. But, as Nick said, it was early doors.

“There you go mate.” Nick kicked the back of my leg, as a couple of likely candidates pushed through the double doors, the eyes of a roomful of pretty ineligible bachelors upon them.

“Maybe…” I pondered. Both were clearly pretty keen to impress, with too-high heels, and too-low necklines. But they didn’t strike me as anything worth bothering too much about. Mutton dressed up as lamb, my mother would have said.

“What’s the matter with you man?” Nick quizzed me. “You don’t need a soulmate, just something to fuck – that’ll do won’t it?”

Behind me, I heard a slight snort, and almost made eye contact with the girl working the bar. I gave a half-apologetic smirk, and turned back to Nick.

“Attractive as that sounds, I’d like to be able to at least hold a conversation about something vaguely interesting. Before fucking.”

“What for? You think too much.” Nick knocked back the last of his pint and sauntered over as the two main attractions turned their backs on a nervous looking man about 10 years their junior. They perked up a bit as they registered Nick’s interest. There were also other candidates arriving now. Clearly, we’d arrived too early – the place was starting to fill up.

Nick had motioned me to get him another pint, so I turned back to face the bar and tried to catch the barmaid’s eye. She had her hands full, with all the new arrivals, so I had a good few minutes watching her get a couple of orders.

I was struck with her posture and the way she moved, gliding effortlessly on heels, with leggings stopping at three-quarter length, revealing a tasteful tattoo on her ankle. She had jet black hair pulled back into a pony-tail, and wore glasses, giving her an intelligent look. It was hard to guess her body type, as her jumper was quite baggy, but she definitely warranted investigating further.

“Let’s have my pint then.” Nick had come over to see where his drink was.

“Sorry mate, it’s got a bit busy.”

“Hasn’t it!” Nick was beaming, surveying the room, literally rubbing his hands. “Plenty of snatch Dan, plenty of snatch.”

This time I definitely registered the barmaid looking over at us with one eye. I was used to this obnoxious behaviour from my friend. Nick had 2 kids, a great job, and the type of amazing Wife who would be enough for anyone. But he still pushed it, with no qualms about the odd liaison with a ‘slapper’ every so often.

And even more maddeningly his Wife seemed to let him get away with it, at least that’s how it seemed, as an outsider. What’s more, he was really successful when he put his mind to it, rarely failing to leave with whoever he’d decided to focus his attentions on that night. My heart sank a little as I guessed that the barmaid I’d been eying up would be his, if he put his mind to it. Eventually she appeared at our end of the bar.

“2 pints of Stella, please. Your friends want anything?” I motioned over to the two women who were very obviously watching Nick’s progress at the bar.

“Who?” blankly. “Oh, them!. Naa. they had plenty left when I came over. I’m sure they can afford their own, anyway. Tell you what though,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “One of them is getting my cock tonight. And the other is for you. Or maybe I’ll fuck both. Haven’t decided yet.”

He grinned, grabbed the pint and headed back over, the girls beaming as he approached. Smiling, I turned back to the bar to pay.

“That’s nine pounds exactly, please.” I handed over a ten pound note, noticing well-manicured nails, with each nail varnished a different colour.

“Keep the change.”

“Thanks”. Now I noticed the eyes. Really dark eye shadow creating entrancingly welcoming frames to two intensely green, shining irises. Strikingly noticeable, now I noticed them.

“I’ll need the tenner though”. She nodded at my hand, and I realised I hadn’t actually paid yet.

“Oh – sorry.” I blushed.

“Quite the charmer!” I read the name badge hanging slightly lopsided on her chest, which I was still infuriatingly refusing to give away its structure or proportions, concealed as it was by the baggy jumper. ‘Sarah’.

“What?”

“Your friend. Bit of a Casanova, is he?”

I felt a bit self-conscious for a brief moment, very aware that I hadn’t engaged in small talk with anyone outside my immediate circle for possibly decades. But something about those eyes pulled me in and loosened my lips a little.

“Oh, right. I guess you could say that.”

“So, you’re the wingman then, right?”

“Oh, right yes… No! That’s him! He’s meant to be my wingman.”

“Right then. How’s that working for you? She nodded over to where Nick had his hand blatantly on the arse of one of the two blondes, and she was fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Fine.” I laughed. “I’m not one for this sort of thing to be honest, I only came along because he made me. Makes him seem like he’s being a great and supportive friend, but he’s actually just after…”

“Plenty of snatch.” Sarah was grinning, in a way that I’d not experienced in a girl before. Normally the word ‘snatch’ would provoke indignation, disgust, admonishment. But Sarah seemed to revel in it. Most refreshing, I thought to myself.

“Yes. He’s a big fan of snatch.” I smiled. “Shame he’s married, really”

“You for real? I had you picked as the married one, and him as the freshly divorced bachelor boy, out to sow his oats.”

“Well, he is, but I’m the divorced one, he’s married.”

“OK then. His Wife not mind?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. He’s definitely done this before and been caught out – more than once. But she’s still with him, and there’s no reason to think she’s not happy when I see her.”

“Fair enough.” Sarah shrugged. “Sorry, back in a sec.” She glided over to the customers who had arrived at the bar, a stream which had slowed down to a trickle since the lights had gone down a bit and the music up a notch.

A warm feeling spread over my body as Sarah headed straight back over once she’d shut the till. I was clearly doing something right, and told myself to just relax and be myself, that’s what the advice in this situation would always be. She looked so confident as she floated towards me, a hint of a knowing smile on her ruby-red lips.

“How about you then – you married?” I had to know.

“Why’d you ask? she smirked. knowing full well what the answer would be, if I was honest.

“Just curious.” I tried to appear somewhat nonchalant but felt a slight increase in my heart rate as I awaited the answer.

“Divorced. Just last month actually.” I raised my eyebrows.

“Seriously? Must have been a quick marriage. How old are you then?”

“Twenty-five. You?”

I briefly wrestled with the sudden fear that the truth might scare her off. She guessed my reluctance to answer, so jumped in with a guess.

“Thirty-two?”

Close enough I thought. Close enough that the truth wouldn’t be too shocking.

“Nearly. Thirty-six.” She nodded, no sign of this putting her off at all. “Not too old then?”

“Too old for what?” She was playing innocent.

I was by now fuelled by alcohol, just to the point where I was able to think on my feet, not worry too much but still function as a reasonably mature and sensible person. A bit of a sweet spot, and I’d hit it during conversations with who I was coming to realise was someone who actually interested me on every level.

Sarah drifted back tend to another customer. I watched her bending down to grab a glass from under the bar, reminding me that she really did have great legs. My hopes as to what was under the baggy jumper were boosted as she reached up to grab a bag of Jalapeno flavoured crisps from the shelf on the back bar, her top rising up just enough to display what appeared to be a lovely, slim waist.

Over the next few hours, I stayed at the bar, observing Nick getting hands-on with the two slappers. He was completely oblivious to the progress I thought I was making with Sarah, slow as it was in comparison to his own lightning paced seduction of the blondes in the heels.

At one point he’d encouraged me to sniff his fingers. I cringed at that, expecting it to sound the death knell on my enjoyable conversations with Sarah, but she seemed totally unshockable, each tale of what the debauched Nick and the two objects of his base desires were planning later that evening prompting chuckles and smirks, rather than the frowns and reproachment I’d have seen in any of my previous relationships.

I was already completely taken with Sarah, and this feeling was sealed when she felt the heat later and removed the baggy jumper to show an amazing torso concealed tastefully beneath a dark green vest-top. This also coincided with Nick all of a sudden noticing she existed.

“Fuck me, where did she come from?”

“Nick, meet Sarah,” I smiled. He looked at me blankly. “You know her?”

“I’ve been pulling your pints all night, fucktard.” An insult delivered with such grace that it almost felt like a compliment. For the first time I registered a slight irish lilt to her voice.

Nick shrugged and finished his pint.

It was a Thursday night, and I had to be up for work in the morning. I expressed this to Sarah, who advised that she did also. She was a teacher, she told me. I was surprised to find her working in a bar. She only did it a couple of nights, it helped her friend out, who was the manager, and it got her out of the house on an evening. Nevertheless, despite the delight I was experiencing in her company, I’d reached the end of my ability to hold a conversation, and also to keep my eyes open.

“What do you mean, going home?” Nick mocked. ” Don’t you want to fuck one of these? ” The two blondes frowned, equally admonishingly, clearly available for fucking if required.

“Yeah, Dan, what’s wrong with you, don’t you want to fuck one of them? Tut tut!” Sarah shook her head, still smiling at me. The way she enunciated the word was so sexy, biting her lip as she deliberately said it. “Fuck”. What a great word it was at the best of times, but coming from a face like that it was perfect.

At no point did I think I’d be physically capable of fucking one of them anyway, given the litres of beer that had gone through me that evening. I felt suddenly a bit stupid, as well as drunk and pretty confused. I made my excuses and made for the door.

“He’s off home for a wank again.” Nick called after him. “What’s wrong with you, man? Just come and fuck a real woman for a change!” I turned and grinned weakly, waving mostly to Sarah.

“Enjoy your wank!” she winked after me.

I couldn’t get Sarah out of my head, as I made my way home, despite the fresh cool air suddenly bringing my drunkenness sharply to the fore. “Enjoy your wank. She knows I’m going to wank, and she wants me to enjoy it. I probably wasn’t going to have a wank until she said that, but there was no doubt I was now. The vision I’d very deliberately stored of her saying ‘Fuck’ whilst looking me right in the eye. Those shoulders and her lovely slim neck she’d brought to the party late on in the evening. But mostly those eyes, smiling through all of the filth and chauvinism Nick could throw at her. She’d not even baulked as Nick had offered me a sniff of his fingers after he’d clearly given one of the blondes a fingering – in fact I think she’d enjoyed the situation, in some weird way.

After emptying a remarkably full bladder, I managed to coax an erection without too much trouble, and began stroking my cock, enjoying my wank as instructed. I was struggling a bit, the alcohol dulling the sensation making it a little bit of an ordeal, but with the promise of a nice rush of pleasure keeping me going. Just then my phone buzzed. It was a WhatsApp from Nick.

‘Here you go mate, something to keep you going’. His timing was impeccable. A picture message of the blondes. What a mate, I thought to myself. Despite the lack of attraction, it was nice to get that picture at that time – he’d managed to persuade them to pull down one of their tops, whilst the other sucked her friends nipples for the camera. Nothing hugely pornographic, but enough to get my stroking moving a bit quicker, and freshen up my erection, which was threatening to flag. My Phone buzzed again. Another one from Nick, this time a video message, the two woman both pulling their tops down and chanting ‘Enjoy your wank!” This was actually really good, I had no desire to get close to either of these women, but would happily wank over them flashing their tits at me.

I continued stroking my now pretty stiff cock, flicking between the picture of the friends sucking tits, and the video of them flashing at me, and my phone buzzed one more time. Perfect, I thought, wondering if I might see some snatch this time.

It took me a good few seconds to register what I was looking at. This one wasn’t from Nick, so I presumed he must have given my number to one of the blondes. I was looking at a really, really shapely ladies top half this time – the skin tone seemed much clearer and slightly tanned, compared to the pale and slightly blotchy skin of the blondes. the picture encompassed the ladies’ waist up to her chin, and she was pulling a vest top and bra up, which was pushing down on two extraordinarily firm and shapely looking breasts. But the thing that caused me to lose a breath for a second was the hand exposing those amazing tits. Each finger sported a differently coloured, varnished nail.

It was Sarah. The message accompanying it: “Hope this helps”

After fighting to maintain my arousal, with things accelerated somewhat by the messages from Nick, the reality of this stunning, funny and sexy lady deciding to get my number from my friend and then find a quiet place to send me a topless snap, knowing full well I’d be wanking over it, caused sperm to shoot from my now solid erection with some ferocity. Lying back with a belly-button full of semen, I stared at the image on my phone, still entranced. What a body she was showing me. What kind of woman was I dealing with here? Did she do this with every bored customer she chatted to?

Post-Orgasm narcolepsy rushed to my brain, I was going to drop off any second, but I wanted to stay awake and look at this forever. Fighting off the rising slumber I forced myself to reply.

“It did, thanks. Could do with a bit of snatch though.”

Working from home as I did these days made mornings-after much more manageable. I woke up with dried cum on my belly and chest snagging on my body hair, and so jumped in the Shower to clean up.

As the events of the previous evening came back to me in the Shower, my erection returned, much more eager and urgent than it had been, dampened by alcohol as it was. I rushed out of the Shower to review the messages on my phone. Unlocking the screen, I was excited to see a further message from the same number, still without an assigned contact name. A reply to my previous message.

‘This do you?’ said the notification. As the screen loaded my cock jumped. A selfie, awkwardly taken, in front of a mirror, propped up against a wall, the phone concealing the full face, but those multi-coloured nails clearly grasping the phone, and those lovely, full red lips evident. All clothes had been discarded and legs were wide apart, with the other hand holding her beautiful, hairy cunt open and stretching an inviting, pink, moist entrance.

I sat for a full 10 minutes, not daring to touch my cock as I knew I’d cum immediately. Flicking between Sarah firstly revealing her tits for me, and then holding her cunt open, a girl I’d not even met 14 hours ago. And a girl I’d developed an attraction for which had now turned into lust stronger than I’d experienced.

I was tempted to film myself wanking over her and send it back, but I know most girls get creeped out by that sort of thing. So, I settled for a description of what she’d done to me.

“Oh my god. Thank you for the two greatest pictures anyone has ever sent to me, or to anyone else, Ever.” That just about sums it up I thought, sending it. I pulled on my shorts and vest, as there were no meetings today, so no need for anything more formal.

Ten minutes later, a response.

“*Blushing Emoji* Great that you liked them. Did they do the job?”

“You could say that. Let’s just say I’m going to need to keep my fluids topped up today.” I paused for a second before deciding on the kissing emoji. I surely couldn’t be shy sending that to someone who’d sent me naked pictures to wank over. But it was a relief to get the sexy wink emoji back.

There followed a day of ping-ponging messages. With each one I sent, I half-expected that to be the end of it – this was surely too good to be true. But the exchanges continued. Nothing too in-depth, but I discovered her marriage hadn’t been a passionate one, and it seemed she was looking to make up for lost time.

As such, I thought it appropriate to describe the full effect she’d had on me, both last night and this morning, down to waking up with dried cum all over myself in the morning.

I’d started to ask if she’d like to go out later, as it seemed the thing to do, but she cut me short, asking for my address, and what time I finished. I gave her the house number and postcode and let her know I finished at 5.

To be continued…