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(Written from her perspective)

I felt myself getting wet... no, make that wetter as I had been damp since I woke up that morning. It was now 10p...

"I must be crazy," I thought to myself... I don't know what this man looks like. Sure I've seen some pictures on his fet profile, but never his face... he could be an ugly fuck...

And yet, the way he talks to me, I don't care. There is something about him that makes me want him. His quiet power, the passion of his words, his confidence, his seeming awareness of my desires... no, my needs. I need to do this...

Even now, as I sit here on this bar stool, at the Denver Beer Factory, where he told me to go and meet him. Ordinarily I would absolutely resist the very idea of putting myself in the hands of a stranger without the familiarity afforded by encounters previously sanctioned. And yet, here I am. This is crazy risky. This is stupendously stupid. Yet here I am. I chuckle, just loud enough that my stool mate to the left asked me what was so amusing? I patently ignored him.

Even more, aghast and again, chuckling inside, I'm braless and pantiless. God, Seriously? I hope my arousal doesn't leave a wet mark, when I get up... So unlike me... and... so exciting.

The bar was crowded, people were tightly packed, not so tight as to crowd me off my stool, but tight enough that it would be hard to get off and not bump into someone. The overhead lights were dimmed and other than the flickering of the candles evenly spaced across the bar, no other light showed. It was a bit darker than I would have liked.

I kept my eyes facing forward, towards the bar rack; so hard was that to do as I badly wanted to scan the room, see if I could notice him coming for me. But his instructions were clear, "Do not try to look for me. For if you do, I will leave and you will never hear from me again."

He gets me, damn fuck, just from reading my profile on fet. I guess I left enough clues. It's my own damn fault. I'm scared and excited all at once. My nipples are achy, no, begging to be touched. I need this. I want this.

An hour comes and goes and I sit, nursing my drink. By now, the edge is off of my nervousness, the liquor taking hold. Though he did say not to have more than one drink, I'm a bit of a lightweight and can already feel the languid affect of the consumed elixir. I close my eyes, wondering, what does he look like, what will he do when he comes here. If he comes...

Suddenly and without warning, I feel someone at my back. Pressing into me, not so hard to be obvious, but firm enough to warrant my attention. Is it him? Or is it some horny perv. Hell, he could be both.... Just my luck...

Just as suddenly, I feel a hand reach under my arm, insistently, not forcefully. I move my arm a bit outward to accommodate. Shit, really girl? He begins to snake his fingers along the side of my breast, I can feel him inching around, until he finds my hard bud and toys with it. A shiver involuntarily courses through me, my head falls back against his chest. Again, I'm amazed at how pliable I am; I offer no resistance.

There is no mirror behind the bar back, but even if there was, it was too dark to fathom facial details at this distance. I remained unsure as to who this gent is, now taking liberty with my, now very sensitive nipple. Now, I was getting horny as tinges of electricity coursed insistently between my nipple and pussy.

"Good girl," he whispered in my ear and a smile alit my face. 'MMMM' was all I could say in that moment, as he continued to strum its rigidity.

Too soon I felt his hand leave my breast, just as I was just beginning to relish in the illicit public display of lust being bestowed upon my sensibilities; I didn't want him to stop. I continued to rest my head against his chest, waiting and wanting more... much more.

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