Jerry, a 40 years old unemployed author

Jerry watched in horror as his phone slipped from his fingers and fell onto the concrete ground with a loud thud. The device bounced a couple time before coming to a stop. Jerry picked it up, groaning, and examined it closely. Apart from a slight crack on one corner of the screen, there was no sign that it had been seriously damaged. The phone turned on as expected and displayed its usual home screen. However, even after a couple of minutes after entering his pin code, the network icon remained grayed out.

"Shit!" Jerry exclaimed, taking a last puff from his cigarette before stubbing it out against the wall and getting the phone back into his pocket. He walked over to the nearest trash bin and threw away the butt, then went back inside the small bar.

At this time of the night, the place was mostly empty, except for two regulars sitting at a table in the corner.

Chloe, the barmaid, was already busy cleaning glasses behind the counter. She glanced up briefly when she heard Jerry enter and shook her head gently.

He was always the last one to leave, trying his best to convince her to let him stay a little longer each time. She would complain, but at the end she knew the guy was pretty lonely and as long as he didn't bother her it was fine.

She was a cute girl in her thirties with long brown hair tied in a ponytail and a nice figure. She wore tight fitting jeans and a white t-shirt that showed off her ample cleavage. Chloe wasn't really interested in men from what Jerry could tell, which only made her more attractive to him. Something about wanting what you can't get, he thought.

"Hey, Chloe," Jerry said, approaching her. "Can I get another beer?"

She nodded and turned around to pour him a glass from the tap.

"This is the last one, Jerry. I'd like to be home and asleep before sunrise for once." She smiled and handed him the beer.

Jerry thanked her and walked to his favorite table. He sat down heavily and sighed, rubbing his eyes. He felt tired and depressed. Unemployment had hit him hard after the publishing house where he worked closed down. He had been there for nearly fifteen years, since he graduated college and now...

He still had some money saved up from his job at the publisher, but it wouldn't last forever and he certainly wasn't going to make it with government handouts. He needed a break, something that would change his luck.

As if in response to his thoughts, the phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that the network indicator had changed to green.

But something was strange. Instead of the name of his usual provider, the letters above the bars were "MP".

"What the fuck?" Jerry muttered, staring at the unfamiliar acronym.

He opened his browser and tested the connection. Everything seemed fine.

He shrugged and decided to try a call. But who was he going to call at this time of the morning?

He found Chloe's number and dialed it. A few seconds later, a voice answered.

"Hello?"

He looked up from his phone and saw the barmaid still busy behind the counter.

"Hello?" He replied, confused. "Who's this?"

"Chloe Davis." The voice said with a very neutral tone.

It did sound like her, but there was no way it could be her.

The woman was now cleaning tables and her phone was charging on a shelf behind the counter.

"Ah! I see!" He exclaimed with a smile. "And if you are Chloe Davis, what are you doing right now?"

"I am cleaning tables. I want to go home." The voice replied.

Jerry frowned and looked around. The only last two customers aside from himself were now grabbing their coats, ready to leave.

He watched them go through the door and vanish into the night.

Someone was pranking him, but he had no idea who, how and why. One thing was sure, that person was watching.

"Well, 'Chloe Davis'." He said, looking at the nearest surveillance camera. "I don't know what game you are playing right now..."

"I'm not playing any game." The voice replied, interrupting him. "I just want to finish my job and go home."

The 'real' Chloe was now starting to mop the floor, clearly focused on the task at hand.

"Oh but you are doing a wonderful job, Chloe." He said with a grin to whoever he was talking to. "How about offering the last client a handjob before you leave, heh?"

"Why would I do that?" The voice asked, still sounding expressionless.

"I don't know, girl." He said with a sigh, getting tired of the prank or whatever it was. "Maybe it should be a normal part of your job or something. Keeping regulars happy? It would make ME happy, for sure, hehe. Anyway, I'm done with whatever this is. Goodbye, 'Chloe'!"

Jerry hang up and put the phone back into his pocket. He was still a bit confused about what just happened.

"Who was it?" The real Chloe asked from the other side of the bar, glancing over her shoulder as she kept wiping the floor. He knew she would soon ask him to out.

"Who the fuck knows?" He replied, shaking his head. "Someone messing with me."

The woman nodded, then turned her attention back to the floor. She moved quickly and efficiently, working without a second glance.

"Anyway." She said. "I'm going to need you to leave soon. I'm almost done."

Jerry simply nodded, staring at what remained of his pint.

"I know, I know." He said, grabbing the glass. "Just give me another minute to finish this and we'll both go home."

He took a long sip from his beer and got up. He walked over to the counter to pay his tab, being careful not to walk on the parts of the floor that were still wet.

The barmaid got back being the register and they exchanged a few dollar bills.

"Well..." Jerry mumbled. "See you tomorrow, I guess?"

He turned around but Chloe stopped him.

"Wait, Jerry!" She called out.

He looked back at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"Would you like a handjob before you leave?"

"What?"

He stared at her, mouth agape. She looked dead serious.

"You're a pretty good customer so I thought you might enjoy a little extra service."

She was still staring at him with a blank expression.

"A handjob?"

"Yes, a handjob."

This could not be a coincidence, obviously. But still, it did not making any fucking sense.

"Erm... OK?" He finally replied, unsure what to think.

Chloe got back from behind the counter and lead him to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry but I'd like to avoid making a mess where I just cleaned." She said. "Do you mind?"

"Uh... not at all."

The restroom was tiny. There was a toilet in the corner, and a sink on the wall.

The barmaid fished his cock out of his pants and started stroking it gently.

Jerry groaned and leaned against the sink, watching her work. She was certainly good at what she did. Maybe she wasn't a lesbian after all?

Yet, he couldn't entirely focus on the experience. For the life of him he could not comprehend what was going on.

In front of him was Chloe, the young and hot bartender, stroking his cock in the bar bathroom like it was completely normal, mundane even, and all of that right after that mysterious phone call.

She kept jerking him off, her hands moving faster and faster, until he felt his orgasm building. He groaned and closed his eyes, trying to hold back his release.

But the pleasure was too much.

His balls tightened and his dick pulsed, shooting a huge load on Chloe's hand and face.

She continued jerking him off, milking every last drop from his cock.

Jerry opened his eyes and looked at her. She seemed completely unfazed by the whole ordeal.

She grabbed some toilet paper and wiped her face.

"Alright then!" She said. "I'll let you clean yourself. You can leave by the back door."

"OK." He said, straightening up. "I...Erm... I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure!" He heard her say as the bathroom door closed behind her.

"What. The. Fuck." He mumbled to himself.