"Oh, do you want a drink?" I said.He had put a stack of bills on the counter. Cash. I noticed that I was wet."Of course," Maxwell said. He smiled at m..., those cool gray eyes reflecting the blue of my kitchen tiles. My pussy felt a little wetter.He was wearing a suit, which I had never seen before. Maxwell was the star football coach, and he looked like the star quarterback. He usually came in wearing sweatpants and a cutoff shirt. He dressed up form me. I stifled a giggle. What was going on. You know just enough to show the black lace edge of my bra. And of course killer high heeled pointed shoes. As I enter the bar I’m hit with everything all at once, my senses are assaulted. From the dark smoky alcohol filled air that affects my eyes, nose, and lungs. To the beat of the music which I feel throbbing in my pussy. To the whine of the guitar which threatens to tear out my soul. I look around and find him in the corner. I head to the bar and get two shots, vodka straight up. The. More

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