She’s a brick house! Irish girl who lets it all hang out in a Bronx bar!
It’s daytime in New York, and Siobhan is looking to charge her phone in the wrong bar in the wrong part of town. How is she going to handle this?
Morning rush hour and its ensuing chaos sweep the busy streets of New York, leaving Siobhan a tired and sweaty mess. As the July Sun emerges from the shadows of the hulking red-brick apartments, it casts long rays of heat towards the masses of people traversing the concrete sidewalks below.
Clad in unsuitable travel attire that was far too warm for the humidity she found herself submerged in. She longed to shed her sweat-soaked clothes and jump in a cold shower and return her core temperature to a more temperate setting. But she continued searching frantically on her phone as Google Maps sent her around in circles repeatedly.
“Jesus, why won’t it recognise the bloody address. It keeps sending me around this block. Aunty Marie said it was easy to find. And now my stupid phone is going to go dead. I need to find somewhere to charge it soon. But where? Oh, look, there’s a bar open down there. I’m sure they can charge this phone, and I could do with something to settle my frazzled nerves.”
Siobhan’s blazing blue eyes settled on a flashing green neon sign that said bar open. She slowly dragged her sweaty addled self along with her accompanying suitcase down the twenty steps from the sidewalk to the basement bar. Once at the bottom of the stairs, she proceeded inside, unsure of what awaited her.
The main entrance was open, and only a plain wooden door separated her from the bar’s interior. Slowly and apprehensively, Siobhan pushed the door open and stepped into the bar and walked up to the counter and seated herself on one of the many bar stools neatly arraying the large counter. While there, she removed her black hoodie top over her head, which almost carried the white cotton top with it.
Siobhan wasn’t alone in the large cavernous bar that at night looked like it could be a club of some sort with its large stage with an unusual steel pole adorning its centre. Two older African American men sat hunched at the bar, barely acknowledging Siobhan’s arrival, too busy nursing each a bottle of beer and nibbling on nuts. The bartender was also black and younger, with a broad welcoming smile and slightly mischievous eyes that undressed Siobhan from twenty metres.
“Well, lady, what can I get you? Or how can I help you today? You look slightly lost, if I may say so.”
“Well, not exactly lost, but certainly a tad mislaid if I do say so. Can you get me an Irish whiskey on the rocks? And if you could also be so kind as to charge my phone, I would be ever so grateful.”
“Sure, no problem Mam.” The bartender replied as he went about preparing Siobhan’s drink.
“You’re certainly not from around here with an accent like that. And with your pale cream complexion and fabulous red hair, I would say that you’re from Ireland. Am I right?” The bartender said in search of confirmation.
Siobhan shyly affirmed his enquiry and returned her gaze to her now dead phone.
“One Irish whiskey on the rocks, mam and let me see if I can resurrect your phone. There’s bound to be a suitable charger lurking here somewhere. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” The bartender said as he waited for Siobhan to answer.
Looking him straight in the eyes, she replied Siobhan.
“That’s a pretty name. We sure don’t get too many Siobhans coming by here. My name is Tyrone, and the antiques propping up the other end of the bar are Michael and John.” Said Tyrone by way of introducing himself and the bar’s patrons.
Siobhan gestured a polite wave at the older men. After a sip of her drink, she seemed to relax a little, as if the anxiety and stress of the outside world were where she left them on the streets above the bar.
“You sure look as if you needed that drink. You seemed a little distressed and bothered when you came in that door. Is there anything we can help you with?” Tyrone said in a kind, helpful tone.
“Yes, you could say I was a little all over the place. I have been looking for my aunt’s address, but Google Maps kept sending me around this block. I tried to contact her, but she seemed to be busy.”Siobhan said, explaining her situation.
“You just give us her address, and I’m sure between these two old bucks, they’re sure to find it,” Tyrone announced confidently
“Mind you, they might want something in return; they’re devious old coots. They don’t get to be of service to a pretty woman like you too often.” Tyrone added in a somewhat mischievous way.
“Don’t you be paying little heed to that bartender, lady! He’s here to serve drinks and not to stir innuendo about its customers.” John, one of the older customers, piped up.
“Pass us over that address you have, and we can be sure to find it.” Michael, the other drinker, added.
Siobhan pulled a piece of paper from her purse and walked across the bar to where the two older gentlemen sat and showed them the address.
“I can see why google maps couldn’t locate that building. It’s an old address you have. That building had its name changed a few years back. I am guessing she forgot to tell you.” Michael explained.
“Well, that would make sense. She’s been living there for almost forty years, so I can see why she doesn’t use the new name.” Siobhan said with a reasoning tone.
Siobhan gave the two older men a grateful smile and returned towards her bar stool. While doing so, she gave them a great view of her shapely ass as it swayed behind her in a pair of black skin-tight, slightly translucent pants. When she returned to her drink, she arched her body skywards in a yawning pose giving the men a bird-eye view of her wonderous shape.
“Hell, lady, are you trying to give my customers a heart attack with all that sexy posturing you got going on there? Last night was the time for stripping here. This time of the day is quiet drinks only. Heart rates of less than a hundred, thank you very much.” Tyrone said by way of mock scolding Siobhan, whose face had turned bright red by way of embarrassment.
“Again, you take no heed of this stupid bartender. There’s a reason he’s here at this time of day serving us. Fourteen years of education and fourteen more in the armed services, all he can do is open beer bottles and make wisecracks at old guys like us. So you go ahead, lady, and let it all hang out if you wish. There is no fear of my good friend or me here suffering more than a stiff cock at the sight of your beautiful self strutting around this bar.” John said in denunciation at Tyrone’s mocking overtures towards Siobhan.
Siobhan shyly smiled back at the men and continued with her drink.
After a few minutes, she asked Tyrone.
“Is this place a strip club at night? I know the stage and the pole are a little giveaway, but the bar has a more everyday bar feel about it. Not that I disapprove of it; I’m just curious, you could say.”
“We have two strip nights a week here. One of those is an amateur night where a few women, after enough drinks, enter a contest with the crowd determining the winner. First place is a cash prize and lots of free alcohol. It’s good fun, and everyone enjoys it.” Tyrone explained.
Siobhan eyes jumped between Tyrone and the stage. She seemed mesmerised by the steel pole at its centre as images of ladies in different phases of undress dancing around the pole flashed through her mind. Seeing her bewildering captivation, Tyrone ventured a suggestion to her.
“You are welcome to go up on stage and try it yourself. I don’t think any of us here would object to you flashing your white tities at us and not to mention your cute pale ass. I would say the last time John and Michael here saw a naked Irish woman was back in the seventies when a few curious cailins would venture into town to find themselves a brother for some African loving.”
Siobhan immediately flinched in utter astonishment at Tyrone’s proposal. But there was no anger in her demeanour, only a shock at the utter audacity of his utterances. After all, she had stripped in front of a black man before, so it wasn’t beyond her realm of possibility. But she couldn’t see herself on stage taking her clothes off to two older men and this immoral bartender. Although somewhere deep within her, the idea of teasing these men appealed to her as if her inner exhibitionist was calling out to her.
“Aren’t you something else! Here I am, having a quiet drink, and you’re trying to lure me onto your stage to take my clothes off for you guys. Well, I never heard so much rubbish in my life.” Siobhan said in mock anger at Tyrone’s offer.
Tyrone poured Siobhan another drink and placed it beside her other almost empty glass, and said.
“Okay, lady, consider this a peace offering. But if you choose to put on a show for us, I can close those entrances and shut down the security cameras. Plus, this place has a great sound system, and I have just the tune to accompany you on stage. I also think the fact you haven’t hightailed out of here yet indicates a degree of curiosity on your behalf. You also exude a level of proud sexuality that desires you to strip for us as a way of showing your power over us.”
Siobhan again was speechless. But after a moment of thought, she quizzically asked him what he meant by her showing power over them.
“It’s like this lady. God gifted you with the most amazingly sexual body he could possibly give a woman, and all I’m saying is you have the power to here and now reveal your flesh to us and make these two gents and me the happiest men in New York, not to mention the fulfilment it will bring you. Joy all around, you could say.” Tyrone said in all profoundness to Siobhan.
“You must be the most full-of-shit barman I’ve ever met. But you are entertaining. Thank you for the drink.” Siobhan said with a confident yet grateful tone.
While Siobhan returned to her drink, Tyrone decided to liven up the bar with music, not any ordinary music but some seventies funk and soul. Its richness vibrated through the bar, almost taking the venue back to its heyday when bands like the Commodores used to play there.
“Now that’s what I call real music, none of this modern pop shit you get on the radio these days.” Michael piped up as he found himself bopping his head to the rhythmic beats.
Siobhan, too found herself enjoying the music as the urge to dance welled up deep inside her. Taking a large swig from her drink, she got up from her bar side perch and swayed her ass toward the stage. Between her travel fatigue, the whiskey and the funk music, the idea of taking her clothes off for these men no longer seemed so preposterous to her.
“Well! What have we got here? It looks like someone wants to get on stage and do a little dance for us.” Tyrone said as he heralded Siobhan’s arrival on stage. Tyrone quickly scurried around the bar to close off entrances and cover the stage view of the CTV. He then helped himself to stage side view alongside Michael and John.
“Way da go, lady! You just let the music guide you. It’s all there in the lyrics.” Tyrone said, shouting over to Siobhan as the Commodore’s “Brick house” came blaring out over the sound system.
“God damn, I think this crazy bitch is going to take her clothes off for us. Holy shit, if they didn’t write this song for this lady, then I don’t know who.” Michael said aloud with excitement reverberating from his throat.
There was something about the pole that drew her to it. Siobhan touched the smooth cold steel with her hands and wrapped her legs around it, sliding against it until she was ass down on the stage floor. The magnetic energy in her pussy drew her to the steel, wanting her to push and gyrate against it.
Siobhan felt her nipples harden under her lacy white bra as she looked at the anticipating stares of the three men raining upon her. In their eyes, she saw that longing, hungry look as they searched out her bare flesh. Electricity flowed through her body as she danced on the pole, sliding her pussy up and down the cold metal as if she wanted to make love with it.
Reaching her hands behind and beneath her white cotton top, she unclasped her crimson-coloured bra and pulled it clear of her body. Siobhan stared at her three open-mouthed viewers as she threw her bra at them.
“That’s it, lady, you’re a natural.” An excited Tyrone yelped.
With this encouragement, Siobhan continued to disrobe. Turning her back to the men, she got on all fours and arched her plump pert ass in the air, gyrating it up and down in a highly sexualised fashion.
Standing back up, she reached behind to unzip her pants and slowly lifted them over her panty-clad shapely ass. Soon her pants went flying across the bar to join her bra as the three men now sat open-mouthed at Siobhan’s one-woman strip show.
With only two items of clothing left, Siobhan returned to the pole to swing her body around and around as she moved gracefully to the funky music. She was horny now. This exhibition sent blood and electricity to her pussy. How far did she want things to go?
Standing again towards the front of the stage face-on with her small audience, she swayed her hips towards the men stretching her panties over her now aroused pussy leaving nothing to the men’s imaginations.
“My God, this lady is in heat,” said John to Michael with exasperated astonishment.
“She sure is, but man, doesn’t she have the body to rock it?” Michael replied in a similar tone.
Siobhan took hold of her white cotton top at its lower seems by her hips and slowly lifted it upwards over her pale white stomach over her belly button and stopped as her top came over the edges of her round firm breasts. Almost by way of a tease, she lowered her top again and began shaking her hips.
The three men’s tongues hung large from their mouths as they tried to anticipate Siobhan’s next move. They were so spellbound that she could ask them to do anything without reason or question.
Siobhan proceeded with her strip tease, slowly revealing more and more of her breasts until she finally lifted it over her head and flung it toward her other garments strewn at the feet of her adoring audience. She then paused her movements and thrust her chest out, all the better for the men to lust over.
“Now that’s what I call a pair of tities. My big black cock is raging in my pants here, bursting to get out and show itself to you, Siobhan.” Shouted Tyrone as he felt the urge to masturbate in front of Siobhan.
“I’m the only one taking off their clothes here, so you keep your pants on sunshine; otherwise, this shows stops, and I will high-tail myself out of here, never for you to see again,” Siobhan exclaimed with deadly intent.
“Okay, lady! I’m sorry I said anything. You keep going with the show, and I promise not to say or do anything else stupid. Tyrone said by way of a grumbling apology.
Siobhan was soon back on the pole as she rode hard on it with only the light sheeting of her panties separating her wet horny pussy from the metal pole. Closing her eyes, she moved up and down the metal to the rhythm of the music.
Siobhan’s panties were now visibly sodden as she again paraded in front of the men. This time she sat on the stage floor with her legs spread a began removing the wet underwear while all while staring at the men. Lifting her ass from the floor, she slid off the clothing until it was at her knees and soon in her hands and then hurtling towards John, who grabbed the panties with grateful hands.
John gleefully brought the flimsy material to his nose as he sniffed in Siobhan’s sexual odours and sighed a delighted gasp.
“Isn’t that the most delightful smell? I can feel the moisture from her panties against my face.” John announced as if discovering some mysterious delight.
Siobhan began running the index finger of her right hand along the shaven lips of her pussy. Soon she added another finger and was opening her mound of love to the men. Fliping over on her knees, she now showed her bare ass to the men and cast a suggest-full glance in their direction.
“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. It must be some white pussy heaven for horny old black guys like me.” Michael gushed in almost hysterical delight.
“I’m in that same heaven man. And all I’m wondering how does this get better.” John piped in.
