The tall blonde bartender

Back to the fire as the last song peforms: “I wondered how tomorrow could ever follow today.”

Cass nudged me, “You are a dog. Trust me. I don’t judge. Fuck the shit out of all these carefree fucks. Just listen to my advice: don’t catch feelings.”

My mind flashes to Amanda’s brunette hair flowing in the wind. “I’m not going to catch feelings for these girls.”

“Good, because these bitches only care about sex, then will forget about you once the summer is over. Get your dick wet, but don’t choose just one.”

I put my arm around my little hick best friend. “Have you been hurt before? Is he here? Give me a wrench, I’ll twist his dick off.”

Cass rolled her eyes, “I’ve never been with a counselor and never will. I’m just relaying what I’ve seen.”

“Thanks,” I squeezed her. “Have you been to the bar down the road yet?”

“I’m not 21 yet.”

“Me either,” I said. “But you have a car. I’ll get you in if you take me.”

Cass rolled her eyes, “You ain’t getting me in shit. They personally know me. Catch a ride with one of these faggots.” She pointed to the polo wearing bros, sprinting up the hill to the parking lot.

I gave her a hug and she cringed. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I found my way into the backseat of a Jeep Cherokee with three other dudes.

The parking lot was packed. Every new counselor in all the surrounding lakes at the one bar in the area. The exact opposite of my first night there. You could feel how loud it was inside.

The bouncer crossed his arms when I reached the stairs. “ID.”

“I work here.”

He laughed. “No, you don’t.”

“Ask the bartender.”

He looked unconvinced, but waved me inside anyway. “If you’re lying, she’s throwing you out.”

The tall blonde was moving so fast behind the bar she barely looked human. Beer taps. Receipts. Change. Orders shouted from three directions at once. She caught sight of me. “Oh, no.”

I grinned. “Reporting for my shift.”

She blinked. “Your what?”

“My shift.”

She looked around the packed room, then toward the sink overflowing with dirty pint glasses. Finally she sighed. “To the back.”

I leaned on the bar. “I have one condition.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“I’ll work Friday and Saturday nights…if I can come in during the week without getting carded.”

She stared at me for a long moment. Then pointed toward the dish sink. “Deal.”

“Really?”

“If you stop talking and start washing glasses.”

I saluted dramatically. “Yes, ma’am.”

She feigned vomiting, “Don’t evah fuckin’ call me ma’am.”

The work never stopped. Glasses piled up faster than I could scrub them. Every time I emptied one rack, another appeared.

The bartender never slowed down. Neither did the crowd. Af one point she slid past me carrying three pitchers. “Still think this was a good idea?”

“My hands are pruning.”

“Good.” She disappeared back into the noise.

Around quarter to midnight I spotted a familiar group. Camp Orgee. Emma waved. Brooke gave me a puzzled look. Maggie nearly dropped her drink laughing. “What are you doing back there?”

“Apparently earning lifetime bar privileges.”

The counselors filed out a few minutes later. Camp curfew waited for no one.

The room gradually empited. By one o’clock the locals were forced out.

By one-thirty, chairs were upside down on tables. Music faded. The bartender locked the front door.

“You’re still here?”

“You hired me.”

“I made a terrible decision.”

“Probably.”

She handed me a mop. “Finish what you started.”

So I did. Glasses. Counters. Sticky floors. Trash. By the time everything shined again, it was after two in the morning. She leaned against the freshly cleaned bar and stretched. “I owe you.”

“You absolutely do.”

She smiled. “What do you want?”

“A ride.”

“To camp?”

I shook my head. “Your place.”

She laughed so hard she had to grab the counter. “That’s either incredibly confident or incredibly stupid.”

“I haven’t figured out which.”

She studied me for a moment.

Then smiled despite herself. “…Come on.”

Her parents’ house sat just behind the restaurant overlooking the lake. A narrow stone path led to a small converted pool house tucked behind the main home. It was hardly bigger than a camper. One room. A tiny television with a VCR. A bed pushed against one wall. A coffee maker older than I was.

“Home,” she said.

She grabbed a folded towel from her dresser. “If you’re going to be in my bed, you need to shower first.”

I looked around. The bathroom had two doors, one toilet and one sink. “Where’s the shower?”

“There’s an outdoor shower around back. It was used from people to rinse off from the pool.”

She led me around to the back of the pool house where a shower head popped out from the building. Just feet from the dense forest. Surprisingly private.

“I’ll be quick.”

The sound of running water mixed with crickets and the distant lap of waves against the shore. The stars overhead. I would say I’d prefer outdoor showers if the water wasn’t so cold. I came back inside with the towel wrapped around my waist, body covered in goosebumps.

She pointed to a pair of shorts and a shirt on the bed. “You can wear those. They’re my brothers. Now it’s my turn to wash off the cigarette and beer smell.”

Without warning she stripped off her clothes and threw them in a hamper. She grabbed a towel and headed around back. I was stunned in the confidence she had in her nude body. Tanned and toned. Swimming. Kayaking. Waterboarding. Volleyball. She was in the prime of her life.

When she came back inside, she’d changed into an oversized T-shirt and loose boxer shorts, looking far more relaxed than she ever did behind the bar. I tried not to drool while watching. She didn’t put on any panties.

I settled onto the edge of the bed. Her brother’s shorts were much too tight, and my arousal wasn’t making it better.

She slid an old VHS tape into the player. The television crackled to life.

“Pretty Woman,” I said.

“You’ve seen it?”

“No. I couldn’t watch R rated movies.”

She looked genuinely shocked. “Well… we’re fixing that.”

The movie flickered across the small screen. Outside, rain began tapping softly against the roof again. She grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around us. She snuggled close. Our bodies warmed each other from the freezing showers.

Soon we were laying down, her in front with me snuggled behind her. Her ass rubbed into my crotch. Julia Roberts in skimpy clothing was the only thing catching my attention on screen. The woman in front of me was a better show.

She said, “You really are different. Most guys wouldn’t make it past the title screen before making a move.”

I stammered, “I thought you wanted me to watch Pretty Woman for the first time.”

“We can still watch the movie and fool around.” Her ass wiggled and rubbed on my dick. She brought my hand around to her soft big tit.

It was on.

I massaged her tit in my palm. She arched back to kiss me, her ass pressing harder into my dick. We made out. My hand slipped into her boxers. She spread her legs for me.

I fingered her and rubbed her clit, while making out and groping her tremendous chest. Pretty Woman was noise in the background.

She sighed in my mouth. She was wet and ready. I was hard and throbbing.

I asked, “Can I get a condom?”

“Yes. Get a fuckin’ condom on and fuck me.”

I awkward scrambled out of bed. Grabbed the condom from my jeans pocket. Rollled it onto my cock while she watched and fingered yourself. She bit her lip, “Goddamn boy. If I knew you were packing that much, I wouldn’t have had you scrubbing glasses all night. I’d have you bending me over the sink.”

I crawled back into bed behind her. She lifted her top leg. Guided me in.

I’ll never forget her moan when I entered the tall gorgeous woman.

“Ahhhh fuck you’re big.”

I thrust my hips slowly into her. Clutching her tight. Squeezing her tits. Pinching her nipples. She guided my hand to her pussy.

Rub her clit while you fuck.

Incredibly gorgeous woman. Tight wet pussy. Julia Roberts flashing her nipple. I couldn’t last long.

I filled that condom but kept fucking. Kept hearing her moan. Hearing her whimper in orgasm. The tall sexy blonde shaking in my arms.

I finally pulled out.

She got up to use the toilet. I tossed the used condom in the trash.

She came back to bed. Turned off the movie. Cuddled. Her head on my chest. She pat my cock. “You don’t have to work anymore. Anytime you want in the bar, you just need to fuck me after.”

The tall blonde fell asleep on top of me. I looked at the clock. Did the math.

I could sleep for three hours and run back to camp to make it to breakfast.

If lack of sleep was my only consequence, I’ll fuck this blonde beauty every night. I went to sleep smiling: four girls pleasuring my dick in one day—that’s why I came to Maine.

The Way Life is Supposed to Be.