New York on a rain-filled fall night is not a pleasant place to be. This was beyond rainy… it was torrential. In desperation to get to shelter, I dashed into a doorway of a bar across the street. The place was empty, with the exception of a solitary barman reading a book at the bar. I whipped the rain from my hair and face and sat on a barstool.

“What’ll be your pleasure?” the barkeep asked as he came to face me.

“What kinds of scotch do you have?”

He recited a litany of unremarkable brands. “That’s it?” I asked.

“Well, we have the expensive stuff, but there’s not much demand for it in this area.”

“What’s your most expensive?”

“Macallan, I think.”

“Show me the bottle, please.”

He reached to the top shelf and pulled down a dusty bottle which he offered for my inspection.

“I’ve been here ten years and no one has ever asked for this.”

“No one?”

“Nope, I’d love to get rid of it.”

The bottle was almost untouched. I pulled out my wallet and pulled out two C-notes. “I’ll buy the whole bottle.”

“Mister, I can’t sell by the bottle.”

I pulled out another hundred. “Will this cover it?” I asked.

He smirked as he pocketed the bills, poured me a double and put the bottle in a plain paper bag.

I smiled at what I had just pulled off. I had just purchased a bottle of Macallan Anniversary Malt 25-Year-Old Single Malt Scotch whisky for three hundred dollars. Some high-end bars would charge that for a double.

 Finally, my luck seemed to have changed on this trip. I was in New York to finalize a deal that I had worked on for six months. Tomorrow I would be meeting with the President of Vanguard Holdings, who I had never met, and after the meetings we would have supper at his penthouse.

It had not been an auspicious start. I’d had a date planned with an old flame that she could not keep due to a family problem. Rather than sit in my hotel room, I went out for a walk and ended up in the Village. When the rain had started, I looked around and saw a vintage movie theater. I had treated myself to a double feature: Casablanca, followed by Pulp Fiction. When I got out, I faced the deluge.

Well, I thought to myself, the Scotch makes up for the lousy evening.

I was feeling a warm glow of satisfaction as this elixir of the gods warmed me up and chased the chill from my body when the bar doors opened and a couple walked in. The reflection in the bar mirror showed a tall, long-legged blond on the arm of an elegantly dressed man.

They crossed the floor and sat to my left. The bartender came over and much to my amusement after inquiring what scotch was available they ended up ordering a couple of Johnnie Walker Blacks.

They spoke in hushed tones and I did not pay much attention till the blonde pulled out a cigarette and searched through her purse for a light. Not finding one, she asked me if I would mind reaching over and giving her a pack of matches that was lying on the bar.

I reached for the matches and striking one lit her cigarette. This was in the days when it was still socially acceptable to smoke in bars.

For the first time, I was looking at her in the face. I had noticed that she was pretty when she had walked in, but looking at her face, I saw that not only was she pretty, she was stunning. Long blond hair framed a face that was close to perfection.

“Hi there, I’m Izzy and this is my husband, Bill.”

“Hi to you, Izzy and Bill,” I said, shaking hands with Bill and then with Izzy.

“I’m Roger.”

When I shook her hand, she held on to it for longer than I expected. I looked at Bill, but he was oblivious. He had already ordered a refill, which was already half-finished.

Izzy smiled at me and rearranged her dress, revealing an expanse of appealing thigh to my eyes. She saw me looking and I quickly averted my eyes. She smiled at me and ran her tongue seductively over her lips.

I smiled back at her, thinking, Damn, I’d like a piece of that. My cock, having a mind of its own, agreed wholeheartedly.

She smiled again, seeing the obvious bulge in my trousers and parted her thighs. I could almost smell the scent of her arousal over the aroma of the expensive perfume she was wearing.

Bill’s voice broke my concentration when he said, “Izzy, you slut, haven’t you been fucked enough tonight?”

I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and quickly rose to go to the bathroom. I had no desire to be involved in a marital dispute, mind you, I was certainly intrigued by what Bill had said.

As I walked to the back of the bar where the bathrooms were situated, I heard the click of high heels behind me. As I came to enter the men’s room, my arm was grabbed and Izzy dragged me to the women’s washroom and closed the door behind us.

“What are you doing?”

She shushed me and got on her knees and undid my belt buckle and lowered my trousers and boxers in one fell swoop.

My cock sprang out at attention and she clasped her hand around it, looked up and smiled at me.  “May I?” she asked and ran her wet tongue from my balls to the tip of my cock, scooping up the drip of precum which had oozed out as soon as she had taken it in her hand.

“But your husband...”

She looked up at me with her baby blue eyes and giggled. “He’s standing on the other side of the door, making sure no one enters.” With that, she wrapped her lips around my cock and sucked it down her throat. That woman could have given lessons to Linda Lovelace.

I could feel my cock throbbing as between licking the head and sucking, she had me close to cumming. Suddenly she stood and slipped her dress off. “Roger, I need that cock in my pussy.”

I lifted her up onto the counter and she spread her thighs, revealing her slick pink pussy which was gleaming wetly. I lifted her legs and draped them over my shoulders and sank my cock into her without any preliminaries.

She squealed with delight as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pushed her tongue between my lips. Her tongue tangled with mine as I thrust in and out of her tight, clasping pussy. I could feel her juices lubricating my cock and seeping to coat my balls.

She moaned into my mouth as I started to throb. I was hitting her cervix with each thrust.

“Cum! Fill my cunt with your hot sperm,” she begged.

That did it for me; I felt my balls tighten as I shot what seemed to be an unending stream of cum into her clasping twat. Her hips thrust back in frenzied motion as she gripped my cock in her depths.

I kept my mouth locked on hers to drown out the moans she was emitting. We finally slowed down and I slowly drew my limp cock out of her as we both tried to catch our breath.

“Thank you, Roger,” she said as I helped her to her feet. “I really needed that.”

“It was my pleasure, Izzy.”

“I noticed,” she giggled. “Want to get together again?” she asked.

“Izzy, I’d love to, however, I’m not going to be able to. I have scheduled business meetings and a supper tomorrow. Then I’m flying back home.”

“That’s too bad. I loved how you fucked me. You go out first and I will be out after I freshen up.”

I gave her a parting kiss and opened the door. Bill was leaning against the wall. “Had fun with my nymphomaniac?" he asked. He was obviously drunk and his eyes were glazed.

“She is amazing,” I responded.

“Well, here is my business card. If you want a repeat performance, I’ve put her cell phone number on the back. Give her a call, I’m sure she will find time to accommodate you,” he slurred.

I glanced down at the card. Bill Rogers, President Vanguard Holdings. I beat a hasty retreat, hoping he would not recognize me when we met in the morning. As I left the bar I was wondering what supper would be like and what dessert would be.