1. Love In The Trenches


    Date: 3/28/2017, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Female Domination, Mind Control, Scatology, Author: nunkie, Rating: 66.7, Source: sexstories.com

    year and moved him into our house the day after the divorce came through. Some yoga class. The room suddenly became very small and oppressive. I hated this place, with the smell of piss in the stairway and the mouldy walls and the torn curtains. I had to get out, be among people, feel human for a little while before I could face my loneliness again. The night air was crisp and I tucked my hands deep into my coat as I stepped out. It was close to midnight and the street was deserted. There was a bar down on th that I’d been visiting lately, dark and quiet which fit my mood. It was empty as I stepped in, but Jewel’s ‘Who Will Save Your Soul’ was playing and I decided to stay. The woman behind the bar looked up from her paperback as I sat down at the far end, but she didn’t move nor speak. Smoke from her cigarette curled around her tired face. She owned the place and usually sat in the back doing paperwork or drinking with some or other of the old regulars who were always trying to get into her panties. But tonight it seemed her regular bartender had his night off. I’d never spoken to her. She never seemed to notice me, and there was not a lot about her that called my attention. She was in her early fifties, her short curly hair dyed a dull black, her face puffy and embittered by the loss of youth and beauty. She was a tall woman, equally broad all the way from the shoulders down. She was wearing a shiny black dress that stuck tight to the folds of her full body. ‘Yeah?’ She ...
    didn’t get up nor put the book down, barely looked at me over the rim of her reading glasses. ‘Pilsener. Please.’ She sighed and slowly slid off the stool she was sitting on, placing the paperback cover up onto the counter behind her and stubbing out her cigarette in an ashtray before lazily reaching for a glass. I thought she’d go back to reading after serving me my beer, but she leaned over on her elbows in front of me and studied my face. I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and she took one, tilting her head while she leaned into the flame of my lighter, touching my hand with hers although there was no need to cup the flame as we were inside. I lit one for myself. ‘Trouble sleeping?’ ‘Having a bad day.’ ‘Yeah. Well. Life sucks sometimes.’ ‘Tell me about it.’ ‘I see you in here sometimes. You’re always alone. You don’t talk very much, do you?’ ‘Nothing much to tell.’ ‘That why the wife dumped you?’ I jolted. ‘How would you know so much about me? I haven’t told anyone here.’ She shrugged. ‘You don’t have to. It’s written all over you. She cleaned you out, didn’t she?’ ‘Are you psychic?’ ‘No. Just observant, that’s all. Twenty five years behind the counter, I read people like a book. You’re easy to read.’ ‘How’s that?’ ‘You don’t belong here. You’re not here because you want to, but because you have to. Your clothes are too fine for this neighbourhood, but there’s a button missing on your coat and that shirt was not ironed by a woman. Your hands and your fingernails are clean, but ...
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