A Bird in Hand... Part One

November 28, 2011 by

 A Bird in the Hand, Part One So I’ve been seeing this really sexy waitress, call her “Hottie” (I’m seriously running out of fake names here), for a few weeks. She’s tall and slim, with dark hair and the bright blue eyes of a mental patient. Hottie works at one of those Irish pubs where all the women wear kilts and kneesocks. Shit, I’m horny before I even sit down in those joints. She served me and a buddy lunch, and I can be a very charming diner.

Hottie had just gotten out of a long-term thing, and was looking to party. That knowledge, combined with the most-seriously-insane-looking-bedroom-eyes-that-I-have-ever-seen-in-my-entire-life, led me to play this one kinda fast. I asked her if she had plans later, before even going for her phone number. The way she said she was free, all cute and excited, really turned me on. We had sex on my balcony that night, a loud and lusty affair that has one of my neighbours terrified of me to this day. So began our tryst.


Our sexual relationship evolved quickly, as Hottie and I really clicked physically. And bless her little heart, she was up for anything. Allow me to repeat: anything. Oh yeah, Hottie was bisexual, and ready to share. Now, there was another waitress at her bar, Lana, who was pretty, petite and quiet. Nice body, great face, kinda shy. She also had served me before, and we got along okay. I have a sweet spot for the beautiful shy girl, always have, but this isn’t that kind of story. Hottie told me that Lana had been asking her about me, and I suggested the threesome. Hottie said, "Sure!" just like that. It all happened really quickly after that.


They show up at my place late one night, both looking great. Hottie’s wearing a miniskirt and black leather boots, and Lana’s got on an even minier skirt and a tiny top made of almost no material at all. Myself, I always wear the same thing when I entertain female guests after-hours: an over-sized white bathrobe, extra-long to suit my height. I like sitting around in a bathrobe. I’m not sure why.


We go out to the patio for some fresh air. Hottie is usually pretty cool, but tonight she’s drunk and being too aggressive. A nervous Lana looks to me for assistance. I nod to Hottie to chill, and wave Lana over to my side of the table. Shy at first, Lana rises and takes my outstretched hand. I gently sit her down on my knee and politely put my hand on her back, so she is comfortable. Lana smiles at me, pleased with this. I‘m too engrossed with placating Lana to notice Hottie’s reaction.


But I’d find out soon enough...


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