I was sucking on the straw of my whiskey sour when this guy sat down next to me.

I glanced over and almost spit out my drink!

I mean, he was gorgeous!

And I'm not kidding about that.

He was a hunk!

Nothing like the guys who usually sniff my quim from across the room and come over, with a collar already around their neck! No!

This guy looked like a movie star.

Paul Newman.

He was tall, with blue black hair, and broad shoulders… the likes of which were enough to make me swallow very hard, and as my eyes fell to his bulge, I knew I was in trouble.

His cock was enormous!

And it was sticking right through his jeans.

Well, I don't mean he was walking around with a hard-on in plain view… I'm just trying to tell you that he had it… the balls, you know, to back up what he looked like!

And he was certainly getting to me!

And he knew it.

I took a deep breath and could smell his manly scent. It was the shaving cream, or after shave or after something… but whatever it was, it was feeling up my nose pretty good.

I wanted to fuck him.

My pussy was juicing up, and that alone signaled to me there was something quite unusual going on here.

I mean, ordinarily it takes quite a lot for my pussy to get all wet…

But not this night!

I was afraid that if I stood sip, there'd be a tell-tale stain on my dress, and I didn't want that!

"May I buy you a drink?"

"Me?"

"Well, you are the foxiest lady here, aren't you?"

He smiled, and I melted still further.

I guess I have him the look, because after a couple of drinks with him, I was feeling pretty lightheaded and decided to take just the teeniest bit of the initiative.