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By Chris Skilbeck
Wicked Wheels
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By Corvidae
The Winner

By Daddy X
Life's Little Gifts
Self-centered Bastard
No Tips Here
How Long

By Elliot DeLocke
Getting Help

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The Goldfish Bowl

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So Much Better

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Porn Star
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By James M. Hunter
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By john e
A Round of Cheer
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By Julius
Happy Birthday Mr....
A Nice Pair
Shifting Focus
Sandy Hurts and Loves It

By Lesly Sloan
Heads or Tails

By Mike Kimera
Fucking Money
Filling Usha
Happy Hour
Burger Queen

The Bawdy Ladies...
Deus ex Machina

By Nick Nicholson
The Bathroom Mirror

No Tips Here

by Daddy X


erotic fiction“Barkeep!” boomed the guy at the end of the bar.

It always managed to piss me off, but I could tell that this guy was pretty full of himself; that it might not be worth my while to change his attitude, even for my own sake. I’d give him that once. If he fucked up again, I’d do something, even with that slick brunette right there with him. What did I care in this fucking dive; I was the only bartender at this end and it’s not like anybody tips in this joint anyway. He could wait. “Right with you,” I said, serving a beer first to a new guy with a spike cut. I moved slowly toward the two, asking along the way if everyone else was okay.

“Hey, man,” said the guy. “Sorry if I was rude, dude. Lemme make it up to you, okay?”

I expected him to go for his wallet. Instead, he pointed to my hand resting on the bar.

His gal picked it up by the wrist, brought it to her pretty face and proceeded to give two fingers a mouth massage right in front of everybody. Even in this place, nothing like that had ever happened unless they were coming on to me personally. But, she was beautiful and her eyes focused deeply on mine, convincing me she wouldn't bite. She held me tight and took the digits deep in her throat, making sucking noises around her red lips, breathing hard through flaring nostrils. She and her actions acquired an intent audience who didn't miss a thing. We could all tell when the guy's hand went up under her dress; the gorgeous girl squirmed into his touches below the bar. “This’ll make up for that, huh?” he said, finger fucking her while she slobbered over my hand. “Quite the mouth on this one, dontchya think?”

“Yeah, she got a certain suction, don’t she,” I replied.

He put his other arm around her shoulders to try and hold her still as she humped against him. “I embarrass myself and she reciprocates for me,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe what I can get away with. Sometimes I get really bad. And then, baby—then what do I do?”

She slipped my wet fingers from her mouth. Her hips kept moving but her eyes sagged, dreamlike. A drip strung down from her lower lip to her chin. “You humiliate me in public,” she mumbled.

Sighs and gasps broke out around the room.

Her man stood up on the brass foot rail. “THIS FUCKING BAR SUCKS,” he yelled.

© 2013 Daddy X. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Daddy X always wanted to be a dirty old man.
He’s survived the 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and George W. Bush. He maintained good humor throughout Catholic school, a paper route, muskrat trapping, a steel mill, Bucks County, Haight Ashbury, North Beach, Castro Street, the Mendocino Coast, the SF bar business, drug addiction, alcoholism, a stroke, Hep C, cancer, a liver transplant, a year of interferon, a stickup at his ancient art gallery while tied to a desk (not as cool as it sounds), a triple bypass, and George W. Bush. 
Now he’s old, and it’s time to get dirty.
He’s been with Momma X (greatest editor on earth) for fifty years, but she thinks his stuff is too skievy to deal with. They live in northern California with an epileptic 90 lb lop-eared hound (17” wingspan) and two cats. They raise little green girls to medicinal maturity each and every year.


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