The Handcuffs (and the nails!)

Well a few days passed, and I was mature as ever, playing the ignoring game to keep The Barmaid interested in me, one day it will bite me in the ass, but not this time. One night after a less than busy shift serving bitter to the old boys in the local, The Barmaid and I ended up back at her place, and whilst we were getting down to a cuddle and kiss on top of the duvet, she asked if I had ever tried handcuffs before. Now I am normally the honest sort, but I told a little white lie here and said something along the lines of 'no, but i've always wanted to'. Before you could say 'liar' I was cuffed to her bed frame, but then she seemed to go a little shy, and just continued the kissing and cuddling (well she cuddled). Then I felt a searing pain down my back as she dragged her nails down my spine, drawing blood with more than one nail. There is pain, and pain, and this was the latter. I yelped and noticed a rather sadistic smile on the face of The Barmaid. She then took my clothes off and climbed on top of me, which was pleasant and numbed the pain, at least until she began scratching my chest and thighs.

Being polite I kept my whines to a minimum and thankfully I still managed a decent job, the sex satisfying us both. She then released me and noticed that she had drawn blood, but rather than any form of apology she continued to smile.

For the sake of my skin the experience of The Barmaid was a one off, but in hindsight was quite tame compared to The Barmaid's Friend, which shall be either the last post of 2008 or the first of 2009.

Happy New Year to my few fans/readers/loonies.

Back Down with a Bump

After all the fun of uni, it was back to small town boredom once the pot had ran dry. The one saving grace of this was that my bar job introduced me to many new potential kinky young (and older) ladies. In the first few weeks back home working in the bar I began to flirt with a colleague of mine, who for the sake of argument we can call "The Barmaid" - hardly original but it does the job. The Barmaid was aged 18 at the time, a bit of a coup for an aging postgraduate such as yours truly. The flirting culminated in a drunken kiss in one of the local nightspots of the home town, and she invited me back to her house. She had a bonkers living arrangement, but to cut a long story short, lived in her mothers home by herself.

We went straight upstairs and continued the kissing, when I noticed a set of steel handcuffs on the bedside table. "We can save those for another time" she wispered in my ear and I began to wonder if I had a sixth sense for finding these sort of girls, or whether I was just damn lucky. We proceeded to have some rather vigorous sex, and my performace was notable for its longevity, aided more through Peroni than prowess.

The handcuffs did get their turn in the non too distant future, but thats a tale for another day.

Back Home

Despite hanging on to student life a few months longer than I should have (through choice, not resits), eventually I had to bow to the inevitable and return back to my roots up north. My slush fund had run dry, and hanging on to the coat tails of friends doing four year courses was becoming too expensive. I returned home to live with the parents, and put my three years studying to good use by getting myself a bar job. In hindsight, this was a great move, opening up a whole new market of ladies! The names of forthcoming chapters suggest why; "The Barmaid", "The Barmaid's Friend" and so on.

The Last Fruits of Uni (delayed just a little!)

Well after an eternity away from the blogging world, I thought I best put my two fans out of their collective misery and finish the story.

After she had shown her her pvc thong under her jeans, my pulse was set racing, and I convinced her that the drinks in the local boozer were too expensive, and that I had better options at my house. We walked the short distance to my humble abode, making the obligitory small talk, and once we arrived I cracked open a bottle of house white. She then showed me her bra strap, again shiny black PVC, which brought a smile to my face and stiring down below. We then adjourned to the bedroom, and lay down on the bed, but for once in my life I was hit by an attack of shyness, and we just continued to talk rather than indulge in anything of a deviant nature.

We both realised that the moment had passed, and rather than try to conjure something up, just continued to talk, chill and not do anything naughty. After 45 mintues or so the young lady went on her way, and I realised that the opportunity had passed. She later text me saying that she was shy but had really wanted to play, a feeling with I shared with her. I am not quite sure what had prevented us from playing, perhaps the brought daylight lack of alcohol situation that had been a precursor for some of the earlier experiences. We did try to arrange another rendezvous but we couldn't find a mutually agreeable time slot and eventually we fell out of contact. Another one that got away...