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In the present, I stepped into the shower, washing the tears from my face. My pussy lips were swollen and my clit pert and sensitive enough it felt almost painful as I brushed my fingers over my cunny. “Fuck.” I moaned and lifted a leg onto the rim of the tub, spreading my thighs wide so the water could rush across my pussy. Thank goodness for the adjustable showerhead.I took the handle from its holder, twisting then knob so the jet of water pulsed. Leaning into the cool tiles, I slipped the stream of water between my quivering thighs and cried out in a mixture of shrill pain and pleasure as the warmth lapped against my aching pussy. Hungry tongues lapped and spurted over the lips, clit and deeper inside my pink cunt.The orgasm thundered over me almost instantly with the memory of the long, slow fucking fresh in my mind. I slumped down the shower and sat in the bottom of the tub, legs trembling and felt a new rush of tears escape me.This wasn’t how I imagined my vacation. I could masturbate like this back in California.I soaped and rinsed and soaped again, wanting to wash every last bit of the cum from inside me. Feeling embarrassed and somehow soiled, I washed a third time and rinsed before shutting off the water and climbed out of the shower on rubbery legs. I needed food and several beers. Oar House would be a good stop.The new sun dress I pulled on was a lilac that reminded me of his eyes. It fell to the middle of my thigh, the neckline scoped low and the fabric had a stretch to it so it clung to my curves. I styled my hair, applied makeup as though I had someone to impress, and slid on the matching heels looking like snakeskin in shades of lilac and silver scale. I liked feeling tall in the six inch heels. I needed every inch I could get, standing barely 5’0, I always felt my height couldn’t support all my curves. Escorts Strawberry Hill, wide hips, round ass but not much length of legs.When I arrived at the Oar House, I felt almost composed and normal. The place instantly reminded me of him and I sighed. There was the familiar jukebox and our favorite tables. One sat up front where we could tease each other while forced to contain ourselves. The other was in the back where less people could notice us. This place held so many memories; it took an effort to push the recollections aside.
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Several people working were familiar to me, the bartender, Max and one of the manager, Lilly primarily. Those two had become good friends to me and I regretted not keeping in better touch with them the instant I saw them. Lilly had changed in the past months, she glowed. Her smile looked wider with an authentic joy. As she turned to face me, her eyes went wide.”Rose! Oh my God! You’re back!” She sounded delighted, clasping her hands together, “Escorts Strawberry Hill. You want a place at the bar honey? Or would you like a table?” She swept a look over me. I wondered if she could tell how miserable I’d been during my time away.”The bar is fine. I’m in desperate need of beer.” I told her and she swept in close to escort me to a place. “You look great! What have I missed?””I can see you certainly need some alcohol! I’ve some tables to tend, but I expect you to tell me the whole story. Then I might tell you my news.” Her black eyes gleamed with amusement as she patted my arm with her strong, dark fingers. “Max honey, look who returned to us.””Well, it’s about damn time. ” Max growled as he poured my beer into a frosty glass without needing to take my order. His grey eyes narrowed at me and he also poured whiskey into a glass and slid both to me. “Damn, it’s fine to see you Rosey-Posey. Time for you to give up that life in Cali and stay with us poor Escorts Strawberry Hill?” He looked past me, as though he expected a companion to join me and frowned to himself.”Oh sure, just as soon as someone decides to pay me what I’m worth here. I’ll pack it all in.” I settled into the stool and saluted him with the shot glass before tapping it into the bar and tossing back the whiskey. The smooth taste of his selection made me smile. “You didn’t need to pour me the good stuff.” I told him, enjoying the aged McClelland. “Jack Daniels is just fine you know.””Like hell Rose. We didn’t think you’d be coming back. Half figured you’d finally sell the house and be done with it. It’s great to see you.” His eyes narrowed and he glanced around the room and then settled back on me. “So, the guy? Where’s your guy Diondre.” He drawled out the name with all the southern charm he could muster.