Hitting the bars

Arron had often wondered what women did when they went out to the bars.

Mystery solved.

He had picked up the phone and despite some initial misgivings, decided that drinking alone was perhaps not a good idea, called her up. He had barely begun with the idea before she immediately got the hint and before he realized it, she was inside his bedroom, ushering him to the closet where she, after fawning over the size and the sheer number of clothes, managed to pick out a decent white top and black pant combo that looked both conservative and "oozed sex", as she put it. The pant was tight near the front and, for once, he was grateful that Tom had sent him a top of the line gaff that he had spent the past week trying to get used to wearing. It fit rather snugly, being one size smaller, but it gave him the appearance of being flat there and allowed him to tuck away instead of using duct tape. Urination was a bit of a pain but it still allowed him to be discreet and to wear things that would otherwise be impossible.

The only issue, though, was that he noticed that his cock was starting to be a little less hard in the mornings and erections, still a very likely hassle to deal with when he was at home, were starting to become a bit harder to sustain. He hoped that it was just an after effect of using so much duct tape and pushed it aside for another time.

He was more impressed, though, by the gaff. It had enough of a design to not only look rather lifelike in appearance (and it did, though no one would be fooled if they looked at it up close) but functionality was also pretty realistic. It had a tube where it slipped over the tip of the penis and allowed him to urinate while in a seated position, recommendations being to clean it thoroughly after such a usage to prevent urine from being stuck in the tube. It even mentioned something about penetration being possible. He wasn't so sold on that, namely the idea of having another man sticking their cock up into him was still too foreign a concept to deal with.

By the time they hit the first bar, Brooke had joined them and the three were busily talking, laughing, and watching the numerous patrons with the two women commenting on various physical aspects of their targets while Arron, for his part, merely nodded his head and drank a bit more than perhaps he was used to. Still, it was fun to just sit there and enjoy the company of other people, especially Brooke who he found had a rather salacious tongue when it came to commenting on men she spotted.

"Too small.." she said, pointing to a man who walked a bit funny. "Too heavy..." she muttered about another one who seemingly had a beer belly and wasn't too subtle about his interest in her. Arron hid his smile behind his drink, hoping that it wasn't too obvious that none of their interests were going to stand a chance with her.

Cynthia was equally as critical, pointing out her issues with each of the men eyeing them up. "If Desperation was a body spray, that guy would be swimming in it..." she laughed as the latest in a line of interested people slinked away after being roundly rejected by her. "I'm sorry, there's a lot to be said for men but not here."

"You know what they say about men, though," Brooke chimed in as they got out of the first place and hopped into his car, "A good man is hard to find but a hard man..."

"...is good to find!" Cynthia finished and the three of them laughed.

At the third bar, one that was a mix between a grill and a bar, Arron glanced at the patronage and noticed several familiar faces. He waved to Gerald who was out with some of his friends and he waved back. "My neighbor," when he received a glance from Brooke who nodded and turned back to ordering them several shots. "More Tequila?"

"Tequila's a girl's best friend..."

"Thought that was a hard dick..."

Cynthia looked three sheets to the wind by this point and she giggled into her Long Island. Brooke was equally as **** but she just waved off his concern as she downed three shots in quick succession. Arron fiddled around with his own Long Island, the sense of being just too flat out drunk telling him that the idea of driving them home was probably not a good idea at this point. "Speaking of men..."

Brooke raised an eyebrow as Cynthia leaned forward and the two of them shared some sort of mental conversation before she looked at him. "Aren't you going to reward that guy over there, by the bar? He's been eyeing you up for the past hour since we got here."

Arron turned his head slightly and looked. He was about to say something when Cynthia whispered into his ear. "The tall guy with black hair, wearing blue..." Arron's eyes focused as best they could on the man standing there and after a few moments, his brain cleared up enough. "That smile tells me you know what I'm talking about..."