Closing hour

Last call. Lights low. Bar almost dead, and this hot bartender’s still hanging around. I decide to hang back too. Door clicks shut behind the last drunk. I peel my clothes off slow, piece by piece, letting him get a real good look at my tight little body. The second my tits come out, I know I have him. Eyes locked on my smooth skin, mind already somewhere deep between my thighs. Just imagining him bending me over the bar stool makes my pussy throb and drip. I slip my hand down, spreading that wetness all over my lips, rubbing slow and lazy while he watches. Every little circle gets my clit aching harder, soaking my fingers until they glide easy. I bite my lip and grin, loving how he can’t look anywhere else.