Helping Hand

by Eric Mahn

A short about a designated driver getting some unexpected help in the boy's room.

Myself and three friends had drove around from bar to bar looking for someplace interesting to drink. Really they were on the hunt, as my friends would call hitting on women, and they kept striking out bar after bar. I was coming along as designated driver, at least watching the crash and burns was worth a few chuckles. We wound up going as far as a run down trucker bar on a lonely highway. The wood and timber building was darker on the inside than on the outside with dim bulb lights and retro neon beer ads shining off of the dark brown wood. It became clear why it was so dim when the sticky floor gripped at my shoe. Not like any of my drinking buddies really cared when they set eyes on the woman behind the bar. She was the only redeeming factor of this dive with blond hair, with wide hips and thick thighs made for breeding. Though the first thing I noticed was her large breasts held up by a tight tee shirt worn under a cupless corset. When I saw her she looked up at us and smiled a sweet smile, though I could swear it was directed at me. As we approached she leaned against the bar opening her body up giving us a great view of her.
"Hey there boys; what'll you have," She said as we took our seat at the bar. It didn't take long for the three of them to start every line and catcall they knew to get themselves thrown out if this place had any bouncers to do so. Every once in a while, as I nursed a whiskey, I would catch a glance at her, and she would catch me stealing looks at her. But I would also catch her glancing my way, each time with a smile on her lips. Apparently the others noticed too, and were egging me on to make a move on her.
"Come on, man up and go get her," one of my so called friends whispered.
"After you buddy," I said in a whisper back as I gave a shove back. When I looked back up from him she was staring at me for a good long second before turning her back to us.
Each of the other three ordered their beers and I just kept silent. I saw her pull out a beer  from the fridge for me before I put my hand up to stop her.
"Just some water," I said.
"You sure sweetheart?" she said.
"Someone has to be responsible tonight," I said. She gave a quick smile before turning around putting back the bottle. She came back and sat a glass of cola in front of me and gave my hand a squeeze before my belligerent friends called for her attention.
"Chin up, honey," She said.
The others were almost falling out of their chair when went back to wiping down her bar. The noise escalated when they were chanting ask her out as loud as they could. Each time I looked over and if she heard it she was certainly was professional enough not to react to it. I dropped my head on the bar counter and folded my arms into my lap where I felt my bulge.
One of the three so called friends caught the exchange and pulled me in close.
"Hey man you need to make some move over there," he said. He then roughly shoke me in his hooked arm. Another popped out from behind spilling part of his glass of cheap beer.
"Yeah man, it's not like you have a babe hanging around," He said.
"What ever just drink your swill," I said.
"No need to get so bent out of shape man, just ask the girl," He said. I pressed the cola against my forehead. The three were whispering as loudly as they could, ignoring that anyone could hear them.
"Ask her out, ask her out," They chanted in chorus. They reached around each other in a clumsy attempt to shake  me into action. I looked away from them to the bartender clearly watching with a smirk peaking out from hiding.
I had enough and I went to the bathroom.
As I stepped into the bathroom it smelled like I face planted into a wall of fermented sweat. My eyes opened up again and I made a beeline to the urinals, and by beeline I mean stumbled trying my best to avoid touching anything. It hurt to move with the huge erection I was sporting for the bartender. I lined myself up in front of a middle urinal and began to mess with the button on my jeans. I must have been drunker than I thought I was. Which was strange, as I thought I only had one soda.
I heard a creak from the stall door behind me, but I didn't really care I just needed to piss. I did care when slender arms wrapped around my shoulders.
"Hey Handsome," a smoky and sensual voice whispered in my ear. I could feel this woman's hands touch my chest and draw awkward paths as the meandered down past my soft stomach.
"Who are you?" I asked as I tried to turn my head to see her. Instead, she pressed her cheek into mine and forced my head between her cheek and her arm. I barely got a glimpse at a jet black lock of her hair before her hand brushed the top of my jeans calling my attention down to my crotch. Her fingers stood up on the fabric and danced around the lump at my crotch and teased the very tip through the denim. She hummed in my ear as her teasing continued.
"I really need to go," I mumbled.
"Go where?" she coyly said.
"No, no I mean I need to go," I said while my hips thrust under her open hand. She then began to unbutton the waistband and drew down the zipper. My dick was brought out into the cold air, and laid in her cupped hand pointed at the porcelain wall, and I just could not hold it in anymore. A heavy stream of funky smelling piss erupted from my cock and splashed against the urinal. I could feel the chilled splash back on my exposed dick, She had to be feeling it all over her hand too, but she did not flinch. The stream continued as she snuggled up to me. While she held my member. She used her last two fingers to juggle my balls [how].
The stream slowed to a dribble and then to drops, and as a finisher she actually shook me dry. I tried to push back to get out from her arms, but she managed to get behind me locking my arms with a surprising amount of strength. My hands were trapped between her thighs pressed right against her satin covered snatch.
"Come on, play with me," she whispered loudly in my ear as she gyrated her hips in time with her hand pumping my shaft. She squeezed the tip as she reached the end of my dick with each stroke. Whoever she was, she was an expert at hand jobs as I fought deliberately to not spew right off the bat. But that didn't stop my hips from quivering under her control. She giggled and mocked me as I continued to lose control of my body.
I felt the intense tingle in my balls while my thighs and abs contorted together. And right on cue she sped up her pumping and squeezed me tight against her. I seized and thrust up, and she cupped her hand around the tip of my cock. Spurt after spurt filled her hand with thick jizz. She had drops of cum draw white lines across the back of her hand as the pool overflowed from her palm. She brought the handful semen to her nose a took a big whiff of the musty goo.
"How aromatic," she said. She then shoved me forward into the urinal and turned back to the stall. I was so drained that I laid there on the porcelain for a moment. It took a whole moment before my revulsion of the grimy bathroom pushed me to get back on my feet. That's when I finally turned and got a look at her. Her skin was an odd color of deathly pale. Her body was a perversion of the stereotypical porn star, with lanky but heavily muscled arms and legs in conflict with overly large and soft breasts and ass. She waltzed like a prize winner to the dingy bathroom stall.