Buy her a drink

It was a bit of a surprise when Elodie returned to the pub, almost an hour after leaving. She stood out in the Slaughterhouse Inn big time. Not just because she was a single female but she was stunning and dressed to kill. (God knows we don't get many single women in here. Occasionally a group will come in for a quick drink before heading onto the actual entertainment of the evening, but rarely one on her own. And never to my recollection anyone as beautiful and exotic as Elodie). I had noticed her earlier in the evening, checking her phone and watch and glancing repeatedly at the door. It was hard to imagine who in their right mind would have stood her up. I had the notion that I might try to swoop in, undoubtedly to crash and burn, but if you never try, right? However, one of the other locals, a guy called Ryan got there before me and annoyingly she took him up on his White knight gambit and left with him shortly after. Oh well, c'est la vie!

That was then. Now she had come back and with a new air of confidence and strode straight to the bar. I surmised that she had enjoyed her time with Ryan and had considered maybe she had left the place a bit early and was looking for more. A bit of an invitation I thought. The place was quiet though. A couple of lads were playing pool badly in the back and old Torquil was nodding off with his head on the end of the bar counter. I could see her waiting to be served. Amanda, the barmaid, an intimidating old battleaxe was through the back and I could see the girl scanning the gantry of optics trying to decide what to have.

"Can I buy you a drink?" I ventured. I expected to be in a steep dive with the joystick broken any time now.

"Yes. Uh, That is kind of you. I was trying to decide what to have. I wanted to experience something traditional and local. Something English". Although her English was impeccably fluent, there was a clear French accent, which just made her even more exotic and sexy than I had already considered her (which was pretty damn high in the first place). Sitting closer to her on the next barstool, I could see that her features were stunning and I tried guessing her origin. Eastern Mediterranean? Arabic maybe? Whatever it was, she was the hottest person I could remember seeing since, um, I couldn't think when, maybe ever. Tall, long legs and magnificent tits that I was trying hard not to stare openly at although her little black dress did leave quite a lot of cleavage on display.

"Oh", I said, thinking fast, particularly impressive for having been in the pub for a couple of hours, "in that case, you should try the scrumpy". I indicated a pump at the end of the row of beer taps.

The Slaughter House is a typical relaxed English pub, warm, generally welcoming and with a prodigious array of a dozen draught beers to choose from. English beer is typically flat and although I enjoy it, can be a bit of an acquired taste for those trying it for the first time. the strength of these beers varies markedly too from weak and insipid, but drinkable for a long session to fast-acting stuff that is stronger than wine. Cider is usually added on at the end of the pumps and although sweeter, can be substantially stronger than most beers. Scrumpy is the roughest and strongest of the ciders. "Amanda!" I called loudly, disturbing the tranquil Torquil ever so slightly.

The barmaid with hair like steel wool and built like a battleship came through scowling. "Two scrumpies darling!"

She poured them without a word, accepted the cash and didn't even bother offering change. Elodie and I clinked glasses together and both took a healthy swig.

"Ahem," coughed Elodie, then looked at it critically. Scrumpy is typically cloudy and hasn't been clarified.

"Yes - its supposed to look like that," I answered her unspoken question.

"Its nice!" she said and looked me in the eye enthusiastically.

It does taste nice. The intense sweetness and apple flavor masks the strong **** content amazingly well. I talked some rubbish about it, then asked her about herself. Elodie told me about her life in Paris, to which I was only half-listening and that she is intending studying at a British University so she is over here making sure she is fluent. By the end of her second pint, she is slurring heavily. I get her a third. Then a fourth.

When she gets down from the stool to go to the toilet she stumbles and I have to catch her arm. She can hardly walk unaided. I guide her to the ladies toilet door, and with a quick glance to check that old Torquil was still asleep at the end of the bar, guide her inside.

There is only one cubicle in the ladies' toilet, so the entire little toilet space is lockable. I slid the bolt behind us before guiding Elodie into a cubicle. I pulled her pants down for her and placed her on the throne, holding her upright under her arms to enable her to empty her bladder. That accomplished I hauled her back up to her feet, and braced her against the toilet wall and kissed her.

Elodie's eyes were blurry and unfocused, but she returned the kiss automatically.

With our lips together and my tongue in her mouth, I went to work quickly with my hands. I reached around behind her and pulled her dress zipper down, then reached down to the hem and pulled it up. Her panties were still at her ankles and I left them there. In a second my belt was undone and my pants were down too, I lifted her up slightly and angled my cock so that she slid down the toilet wall onto it, then braced her and started to slide it inside her and fuck her. Although I had had a few drinks and this would normally have taken forever there were two factors that sped the transaction along. Firstly, she was insanely hot. Ordinarily, she would just have to have crossed the road in front of me to give me an erection, and secondly, we were only twenty minutes away from last orders and Amanda hunting us from the Slaughterhouse! With that in mind and without further foreplay, I thrust into her hard and fast, bunny rabbit style eliciting an "uh-uh-uh-uh" response. I tried to identify if there was a French accent to the sounds she was making. but wasn't sure. I think she may have been a little sick over my shoulder, but the sensation of slipping inside this beautiful young woman pushed any such sartorial issues completely out of my mind. Taking her weight mostly in my arms in the embrace with her back against the cubicle wall, I inhaled her mixture of expensive French perfume and West country scrumpy apples. Heavenly! I buried my face in her long smooth delicious neck and held her tight as my hips metronomically drove my cock into her tight young pussy like a finely tuned piston. Without the room or setting to enable variety, this position of her carried on for a while, unaltered. Elodie, raised her arms and placed them around my neck to hang on and I imagined her motor-control was not working too well. My cock in her pussy was probably the only thing that was not spinning round and round - it was going in and out!

Anyway, just in time as the lights were deliberately flickered off and on to remind us to evacuate the building, I came inside her filling Elodie with cream and feeling my legs which had been holding both of us up, weaken instantly. Sadly she didn't join me in orgasm and slumped across my shoulder as I relaxed.

I quickly cleaned her up as best I could. I pulled her panties off and pocketed them, rather than try to haul them up past her buttocks as she sat back down on the toilet-seat, then we left the ladies restroom to a nasty scowl from Amanda. Elodie was virtually comatose and I was almost completely carrying her. "Phone us a taxi Amanda darling!" I called.