Man Trap
Today is another Friday, and the bar is packed with people.
Standing at the bar, I often chat with the patrons. Here comes a new one, full of anticipation for Friday night.
"Hey, do you know who that brunette in the red dress is?" he winks slyly at me. "What do you think—will she give it to me tonight or not?"
I try to spot someone in a scarlet dress in the crowd, and then my heart turns cold.
"Oh, God! It's her!!" escapes from my chest.
"What's wrong, dude?" the patron asks, surprised.
"Ah, it's nothing..." I try to dodge the question.
The patron pulls a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and carefully hands it to me.
"
Spill it, come on!"There's no way out, and I slowly begin my story.
"Just don't look at her, or she'll figure it out and something terrible will happen."
No one can catch her red-handed, but among themselves, the regulars call her the Black Widow. Don't be fooled by her scarlet dress, her smile, or her plump pink lips. She's sent many fine men to their graves and hasn't shed a tear for a single one. Her heart is cold and cruel!
You might not believe me, but the newspapers don't lie!
I pulled out a fresh tabloid and pointed my finger at a note with a photo of a corpse.
"See here? Another one of her victims. And her? She's sitting at the bar, batting her eyes at a new fool!"
The patron gulped, paid for his drink, and bolted out of the bar.
His neighbor called me over and wanted to know the details.
"Okay, I'll tell you. Those who go to the bathroom with her come back without their dicks. Well, they stay with them..."—I made a dramatic pause—"in their hands!"
The guy glanced at the Black Widow. She smiled at him warmly and licked her lips. The guy turned pale, started to run to the bathroom, but caught himself in time and dashed outside. The other men sitting at the bar turned their faces toward me.
"Yes," I nodded—"she's a terrifying woman. Ken, nicknamed Steel Balls, fell out of a window after having sex with her. Dogs licked his corpse lying on the street for a long time; the police didn't care. John Sharp Blade choked on her juices while going down on her. I suspect she's poisonous. Leslie Big Cucumber entered her from behind and immediately gave up the ghost. I remember how his widow, whom he left with three kids, cried."
I shed a tear and fell silent. A couple more people left the bar.
"And those who are tempted by her juicy melon-like breasts—they're not long for this world. Rumor has it that whoever sees her nipples goes blind instantly!"
I gestured with my eyes toward a blind beggar asking for change from the patrons.
"Her handiwork!"
The men ordered another shot for courage. They kept stealing glances at the Black Widow; she was such a tempting piece. But no one dared to approach her. And I understood them perfectly!
The bar gradually emptied. Couples who had found each other headed off to their warm nests. Frightened suitors vanished into thin air. Soon, only the Black Widow and I remained in the bar.
I tried not to look at her, but there was no escaping it—after all, I'm at work.
She got bored, sat for a while for appearances, staring at the bottom of her empty glass, and then approached me.
"How sad, John... I'm not what I used to be. Or do men these days want something different? I smiled at so many today, hinted at my services to so many—all for nothing."
A teardrop quietly rolled down her cheek.
"Rose, don't get yourself worked up! You're beautiful! You know how much I love you!"
"Yes, I know, because you're the only one who appreciates and loves me."
Her words were filled with gratitude and warmth, but there was also sadness in them. But I knew how to cheer her up.
"Want to crawl under the counter with me?"
I knew that excited her.
Rose smiled and nodded. A minute later, her plump pink lips were caressing my cock, and her tongue was touching my balls. I could barely hold back from coming in her mouth. A lone patron sat before me.
"Hey, man, do you know where I can find a chick for a Friday night hookup?"
"A bit late. You. Came. Mister."—I struggled to get the words out, but it was my job.—"Try. AAAhhhhhh... Yes... Come back tomorrow..."
I couldn't hold back any longer, and my seed shot out of me. Straining to keep from screaming, I arched with pleasure.
The patron twirled his finger near his temple, watching my twitching, and left the bar.
My little Rose emerged from under the counter with a satisfied smile on her lips, slightly smeared with sperm. She got what she wanted; she didn't need me anymore. She glided out of the bar onto the street, and I could only hear the flirtatious click of her heels on the pavement.
But I knew she would return and remain only mine...