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Another please, as she sat by the bar, devastated wiping the tear off her cheek. Looking at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar counter. Dressed so pretty but for what? All her brains and looks could not get the one guy she wanted. Why is it that she always attracts the types that she didn't want. Take for instance the guy that's on his way to her right now. Dark haired, roughly six feet tall, brown eyes with a mischievous expression on his face. The typical baby face. Cute, and quite the gentleman, but does he know how to make you cum. The image of little children having sex never really appealed to normal people. Well I assume that depends on what you classify as normal. He walks up to her, and tells her that the blue of her eyes doesn't match the accompanied tears. She looks at him as he runs his hand through her blond hair, for once someone that's honest. But is honesty what she really wants? She gets up and whispers in his ear. He feels the warmth of her breath as she whispers the words: "Nice talk, but, what if I just wanted to be fucked silly?" Surprisingly the un-shocked baby face pushed his hand up her dress playing with the lacey suspenders replying: "That could be arranged." She grabs his crotch which was still warming up at this stage, bit his lip as she enticely kissed him and asked: "How's the arrangements cumming along?" "Well" he said, "put on ice till we found an available eligible venue for the frictionous party." She shoved his head into her push-up and leaned over his head and asked whether transportation would lube up matters?

...

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