Barfly

It was deader than four o’clock in Idaho and we were
playing to the barmaids. There were maybe ten people in
the bar all night, but we put our souls into it anyway.

A lot of people think rock and roll is all dope and
glamour. I suppose part of it is. But people never stop
to consider the empty nights, or the bar owners who don’t
want to pay you. But you take the good with the bad, I
guess.

Anyway, it’s a job. Sure, it’s tough to play when there’s
nobody there to cheer you on – but then again, it must be
even tougher to have to turn a screw for eight hours a
day in some factory. So I ain’t complaining too much.

Besides, it was Thursday night. You never expect a crowd
on a Thursday.

We were right in the middle of “Hot Legs” by Rod Stewart
when I caught a flash of red over by the front door. Wow!
I was knocked out as soon as she walked into the bar. I
looked over at Ronnie, our bass player, and gave him a
quick “Elvis” sneer – our secret code for, “I saw the
bitch first.”

I squinted through the floodlights for a second look, and
that’s when I noticed the balding man tagging along
behind her. Surely this gorgeous blonde wasn’t with that
old fruit! He looked like somebody’s insurance salesman –
or the guy who does your taxes!

They both walked over to a booth and sat down opposite
each other. So they were together! Go figure!

As soon as they were settled in their seats, I saw the
woman lean over and say something to him. The guy jumped
right back up and headed for the bar.

Ah ha! She’s got this guy wrapped around her finger, I
thought as I watched the old dude shuffling back with his
lady’s drink. He’s probably got money or something.

A rich, pussy-whipped wimp! There was hope for me yet!

I glanced at Ronnie. He was turned around messing with
his amp. He didn’t notice. Good!

As our set was ending, I tried to decide whether I should
go up and talk to the lady. I knew there was a chance
that her companion might get mad; maybe he wasn’t a
complete wimp. Maybe I had them tagged all wrong.

But when you’ve been in the bars as long as I have, you
get to where you can size people up pretty good. And, to
me, this looked like a classic case of rich-old-man-with-
nice-looking-blonde syndrome.

I figured, fuck it. What do I have to lose? Even if the
old dude did get mad, what was he going to do? He
certainly wasn’t going to kick my ass! And the chances of
him packin’ were slim to none.

After we finished the set, I put away my guitar and moved
straight over to their booth. As I approached them, the
woman looked up at me and smiled.

Was that an invitation? I took it as such.

Without a word, I scooted into the booth next to her.

“My name’s Jerry,” I said, sticking out my palm. She
stared at my outstretched hand with a bored look on her
face.

“You’re pretty cocky, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Why, no, ma’am, I just wanted the pleasure of your
acquaintance,” I replied, being comically polite. I
cleared my throat, again offered a handshake. I repeated:
“My name’s Jerry!”

“My name’s Rhonda,” she deadpanned, her eyes never
leaving mine. She let my hand dangle there. “Pleased to
meet you.”

Oh, so this bitch likes to play games! Good, I thought: I
like a good challenge!

I looked over at the old guy. He was just sitting there
with a sad, stupid look on his face.

Rhonda noticed my quizzical look. “Oh, that’s Ralph,” she
answered my unasked question. “He’s my husband.”

“Husband?!” I repeated. As soon the word left my mouth, I
realized that my tone of surprise might hurt the old
guy’s feelings. But Rhonda just snickered and hit me in
the arm playfully.

“Yeah, that’s my Ralph,” she sighed. She reached across
the table and brushed her painted fingernail across his
lips. “Honey, be a pumpkin and go play the jukebox or
something. Give us a few minutes alone, would you?”

I watched in amazement as the guy muttered something,
gave his wife a tight little smile, then took off in the
direction of the jukebox.

“And don’t play any of that goddamn Air Supply, either!”
she called after him as he walked away. “Play something
good!”

“Okay, honey.”

Holy shit! I’ve seen pussy-whipped rich guys in my
day…but this guy had them all beat!

Rhonda was watching me watch her husband. She smiled
smugly. “Yeah, that’s my little Ralphie…”

“He’s rich, ain’t he?” I asked bluntly, smiling smugly
myself.

Rhonda scooted away from me and shot me a uppity sneer.
“What’s it to you, Sherlock? Are you writing a book about
my financial situation or something?”

Oh, man – what a cocky little bitch! Well, I knew just
how to handle a woman like that! I’m hip to the game:
sure, she can push her wimpy husband around, I thought,
but what she really wants is someone like me to show her
whose boss! I’ve seen it too many times!

I gave her my best “rock and roll” lip-curl and stood up.
“Well, whether Elmer Fudd over there is rich or not
doesn’t make any difference to me,” I said in a bored
tone of voice. “I gotta go finish up the last set.”

I could tell she wasn’t about to let me get the last
word. But what she said surprised me:

“Well, if you wanna go home tonight and watch David
Letterman, you go right ahead,” she cooed sexily.
“Otherwise, I’ll be right here waitin’ for ya!”

Boom! It didn’t take a genius to figure it out: I knew I
was gettin’ some pussy tonight!

I decided to play it cool. I didn’t say a word. I just
blew her a kiss and went back up on stage for the last
set.

This is going to be interesting, I thought as I tuned up.

***

I couldn’t wait for the last set to end. I kept looking
over at Rhonda and her husband. Did he know that his wife
had just propositioned me? From the stage, I couldn’t
tell.

We wrapped up the show a little before 2. Rhonda gave us
a standing ovation. In the empty bar, it seemed almost
ridiculous. And her husband didn’t look too happy about
it, either.

After I put everything away, I bid my fellow band members
goodbye and went over to their table.

Rhonda spoke first.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat so we can talk?”
she said. “We have some things to discuss.”

I figured I’d let her take the lead; I still didn’t know
what the hell was going on.

We found an all-night restaurant and grabbed a booth near
the back. I ordered a burger; Rhonda had a Caesar’s
salad. Ralph didn’t order anything.

“I’m putting him on a diet; he’s too fat!” Rhonda
explained. As usual, Ralph just sat there and kept his
mouth shut.

After the waitress took our orders, I got down to
business.

“Okay, so what’s up with you guys?” I asked tentatively.
I knew I had a real good chance at fucking this beautiful
blonde tonight, and I didn’t want to mess it up.

Rhonda looked over at her husband and smiled. “Why don’t
you tell Jerry what’s up, Ralph?” she asked.

Ralph couldn’t make eye contact with me as he whispered,
“Rhonda says you’re very sexy, Jerry, and she’d like to
spend the night with you.”

I was taken aback. “What? You mean you don’t mind?” This
was getting weird.

Rhonda answered my question. “Oh, Ralphie doesn’t care
what I do. Do you, Ralphie?”

The old man kept his eyes down. “No, I don’t mind,” he
squeaked.

Okay, so the guy didn’t mind! That was all the
explanation I needed!

“So, you want to spend the night with me, eh?” I asked,
my hormones taking over. “Where do you want to go? Your
place?”

“My place sounds fine to me. Does that sound okay to you,
Ralphie?” From her tone of voice, I could tell she really
didn’t care if it was okay with him or not. She obviously
got off putting her old man down – and he got off on it
too, evidently. Either that, or he was too much of a wimp
to do anything about it.

Either way, it didn’t matter much to me; we were going to
her place tonight! I couldn’t wait to tell the guys
tomorrow!

Our food came, and we enjoyed our late dinner. At least,
Rhonda and I did – Ralph just sat there with his mouth
watering.

“Uh…Rhonda,” he finally said. “I-I haven’t had anything
to eat since this morning. Could I have a bite of your
salad, please?”

Rhonda stuck her fork into a cherry tomato and held it up
daintily. “You want a bite?” she asked. “But,
honey…what about your diet? You promised me you’d try
to lose 30 pounds!”

“I know…I’m sorry.”

Nothing else was said as Rhonda and I finished our meal.
After we ate, I lit a cigarette, ready for more
conversation. I was curious to know more about this
strange couple I was going to spend the evening with.

“So, tell me Rhonda: does Ralphie here get off on you
screwing other guys or something?”

Rhonda giggled. “No, actually he doesn’t like it at all,”
she said mirthfully.

“He doesn’t?” I asked in surprise. “Then…what’s going
on?”

She fixed me with a cold stare. “Ralph is my slave,
Jerry,” she explained. “I can do whatever I want; he has
no say in the matter.”

Ooookkaaay! That was a new one on me! What do you say in
a situation like that?

“Uh…your slave?” I managed to mutter. “What’s up with
that?”

I could tell Rhonda was pleased that she had shocked me.
“Well, you see, Jerry, my husband is a pervert,” she
began. “He likes for me to treat him like a slave. Which
is great for me; I don’t lift a finger around the house.
It’s wonderful! But there is one problem…”

“What’s that?”

She smiled evilly at Ralph. “Honey, why don’t you tell
Jerry about our little problem?” she asked sweetly.

The old guy looked like he’d swallowed a turd. I swear
his face turned blue.

He stammered for a minute. “Uh…the problem is, I can’t
have sex like a normal
man – ”

” – He likes too sniff shoes,” his wife cut him off.
“That’s the only way the old fart can get it up.”

I was astonished. I couldn’t say anything. I just stared
into Rhonda’s beautiful green eyes and waited for more.

“Soooooo,” she leaned back in her chair and sipped her
coffee. “Because my old man is a pervert, I don’t get the
kind of satisfaction I need. That’s our problem.” She
looked at me seriously. “So, tell me Jerry: Are you gonna
help us find a solution to our little problem?”

I smiled at her. “Well, if you’re asking me if I get off
smelling shoes, the answer is no! I just enjoy plain,
good-old-fashioned doggie-style!”

I looked over at Ralph. A warm, evil feeling washed over
me. I went with it.

“So, Ralphie, does your wife let you watch?” I asked. I
was feeling rather cocky and it showed in my tone of
voice.

Ralph studied the tablecloth. “Uhh…sometimes she lets
me watch. It depends on her mood, I guess.”

Rhonda flicked her husband’s ear. “What way is that to
talk to Jerry, asshole?
Show some respect. You call him, ‘sir’ from now on, you
hear me?”

“Yes, Mistress. I’m sorry, sir.”

Now that it was all out in the open, I guess he felt
comfortable addressing his wife as, ‘Mistress.’ And he
had to address me as ‘sir.’

This was definitely getting weird…but I liked it!

Rhonda reached over and stroked my chest. “So, cutie, are
you going to take me home and fuck my brains out, or
what?”

“Waitress? Check!”

***

Needless to say, Ralph drove.

Meanwhile, Rhonda and I were getting acquainted in the
backseat. This woman sure knew how to make a man squirm.
Poor ol’ Ralph didn’t know what he was missing! His wife
was a tigress, jamming her hot tongue down my throat like
her life depended on it, and sucking my tongue like it
was a cock.

It was all I could do to keep from ripping her dress off
right there in the car!

After about 20 minutes, we pulled into the driveway of a
massive Tudor. This definitely wasn’t skid row! I wasn’t
sure what city we were in – I was too busy in the
backseat to notice where we were going – but I knew one
thing: my original guess had been correct. Ralph was a
rich old bastard!

Ralph cut off the ignition, then jumped out of the car to
hold the door open for us, just like a good chauffer
should. After we got out, the old man rushed up to the
front door of the house, unlocked it, and again held the
door open for us.

The house was breathtaking. It looked like something out
of “Better Homes and Gardens,” and I told Rhonda so.

“Glad you like it,” she said. “Ralphie here worked very
hard to get me this house, didn’t you, honey?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered.

“Ralph’s a stockbroker,” Rhonda explained. “He makes me a
lot of money, don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I wasn’t surprised. In fact, nothing these people laid on
me could shock me anymore.

“So…” I surmised aloud, “Ralph makes a lot of money.
And he likes to be your slave.” I lowered my voice. “But
you want more, don’t you, Rhonda?” I was making my move
now. “You need more than a slave and a house, don’t you,
Rhonda?”

Now it was my turn to tease…my turn to take control.
And that’s exactly what this little bitch wanted.

She reached over and started unbuttoning my shirt. “Oh,
yes…I want more…I want you, Jerry,” she said as she
rubbed her hand up and down my chest. “I want you now!
Right now!”

I forcefully grabbed her shoulders and brought her to me.
I moved my hand up to her jaw and pried her mouth open.
She offered no resistance.

After gave her the most sensuous French-kiss I’ve ever
given anyone in my life, I pulled away from her and
studied her model-perfect features. I traced her lips
with my finger. “You’re such a sexy woman, Rhonda,” I
told her. “Such a sexy, sexy thing!”

I looked over at her husband, who was sitting in an easy
chair by the fireplace.

“Ralph,” I called to him sarcastically. “Look at your
wife. Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Yes, sir, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world,”
he answered sadly.

“Too bad you can’t give her what she needs, Ralphie,” I
continued. “Such a waste! Such a fucking waste! But don’t
worry: Jerry’s gonna take care of everything!”

Rhonda gave her husband a wicked stare. “Okay, asshole,
we’re done talking to you! Don’t just sit there like a
slug; go fetch us some drinks.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

By the time he got back with our refreshments, I had
Rhonda’s dress off and was playing with her bare boobs.
Poor Ralph looked like he wanted to cry as he set our
drinks onto the coffee table.

“What do you say we take this party up to the bedroom?”
Rhonda asked.

“Sounds good to me,” I said. “What about him?” I jerked
my thumb at Ralph, who had again taken a seat in the easy
chair.

“What about him?”

“Well…do you want him to watch?” I asked.

“It’s up to you,” she replied. “Whatever you’re
comfortable with. I don’t care if he watches or not, to
tell you the truth.”

“Well…” I mused. “I’ve never done anything like this
before…but it would be kind of a turn-on to have him
watch.”

Rhonda turned to her husband. “You heard him, pea-dick:
go up to the bedroom and wait for us!”

Ralph bolted up and practically ran up the stairs.

Rhonda and I relaxed and finished our drinks. Her
attitude toward me had changed completely: at first, when
I met her at the bar, she tried to come off like a cocky
bitch. That was her way of warding off the wanna-be’s, I
guessed. She already had one wimp at home; she didn’t
need another one.

But now that I’d established myself, she became totally
docile. It was a sharp contrast to the bitchy way she
treated her husband. She really made me feel like a king,
hanging on my every word…stroking my chest
affectionately…cooing in my ear…

This woman needed the bone, and she needed it bad!

After we finished our drinks, she led me by the hand up
the stairs. The first thing I saw when I entered the
bedroom was Ralph kneeling at the foot of the bed naked.
His entire body was shaved – even his pubes – and he was
wearing a garter belt and stockings. And he had on a wig
and makeup!

I cracked up as soon as I saw him. I couldn’t help it; he
looked so goddamn ridiculous kneeling there in drag, with
his little dick poking out between the stockings. His
weenie couldn’t have been more than three inches long!

“Damn, Rhonda, I can see what you mean about this guy,” I
said after I caught my breath. “He isn’t exactly a stud,
is he?”

“Well, he has his merits,” Rhonda bantered. “He may be
lacking in the peter department – but he does know how to
make me excited.”

“Oh?” I asked. “How’s that?”

“Well,” she answered in her best ‘Scarlet O’Hara’ voice,
“every time he brings me his paycheck, it just makes me
want to cum!”

We both died laughing. Then I pulled her onto the bed.
While we wrestled around on the sheets, Ralph kept his
eyes to the carpet and didn’t say a word.

I pinned Rhonda’s shoulders to the mattress and looked at
Ralph.

“Well, Ralphie-boy…are you ready to watch me do your
wife?” I asked him.

“Y-yes, sir.” His lips barely moved.

“Well, then, get over here and take off her panties,” I
ordered. Damn! When did I get so kinky?

Ralph sadly got up to obey my command. He slipped his
wife’s lace panties down her legs, exposing her neatly-
trimmed blonde bush.

Rhonda spread her legs and started playing with her
pussy. “Look, Ralph, I’m all wet for him,” she said as
she effortlessly inserted two fingers into her hole. She
then pulled her fingers out and held them under her
husband’s nose.

“T-thank you, Mistress! Thank you!” the fool cried as he
started frantically smelling his wife’s fingers.

Rhonda wiped her wet fingers right on his nose. “That’ll
give you something to think about while you watch a real
man in action!” she said with a giggle.

All this was turning me on immensely. I pushed Ralph out
of the way.

“Go back and kneel at the foot of the bed, sissy,” I
instructed. “And watch real close – there might be a test
later!”

With that, I began my task of tearing Rhonda a new
asshole. I was so horny, I would’ve wore her out even if
she was an ugly woman. But that certainly wasn’t the
case! As I looked down and saw her rolling her head back
and forth, her golden hair cascading on the satin
pillows, it was all I could do to keep from cumming.

I started long-dicking her and that was all it took for
her to let loose. She dug her nails into my back and
screamed so loud it hurt my ears. I’m no slouch in the
sack, but I’d never made a woman cum like that!

I wasn’t far behind. The harder I fucked her, the harder
her tits bounced back and forth. I looked over my
shoulder at Ralph. He wasn’t even watching us – he just
knelt there staring at the carpet with a single tear
running down his rouged cheek.

I turned back to Rhonda. She’d noticed me looking at her
husband, and she peered up at me with an evil smile on
her lips.

That wicked smile took me over the edge. I pulled out my
dick and shot cum all the way up to the pillows. One
squirt actually hit Rhonda right in the nose, and we both
laughed about it as I came down from my incredible
orgasm. Then I fell down on top of her and started
nuzzling her hair. It smelled so clean…so fresh…like
spring…flowers…

***

…I awoke with a start. At first I wasn’t sure where I
was. It was still dark outside. Then I looked at Rhonda.
I was still holding onto her. I must’ve fell asleep, I
thought, as I watched her rhythmic breathing.

Now that I’d regained my senses, I realized that Ralph
was still kneeling at the foot of the bed! Holy shit! It
must’ve been close to 7 in the morning – he’d been
kneeling there for about four hours! God! This guy was so
pussy-whipped, he couldn’t even go to bed until his wife
gave him permission! And, since she fell asleep with me,
he stayed there!

I caught eye-contact with him. He looked at me with eyes
so sad, I don’t even know how to describe them. It made
me feel so powerful. I knew I could’ve allowed him to go
on to bed, since his wife had forgotten about him.
But what fun would that be?

I didn’t say a word. I just snuggled back up to his wife,
blew him a kiss, then drifted off to sleep again.

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