the beer wench and the cowboy

chapter 1: burgeoning

Maia always thought it was a little weird when the cowboy came into her bar. Not that she minded, of course. After all, none of the other customers dressed to match the Bavarian bier hall decor, but somehow the cowboy’s parading selection of ornate western shirts just stood out to her.
He was what she thought of as a “sporadic regular”, coming in for a few nights in a row every few weeks for the past year or so. He didn’t talk much, just sat at the bar from 10 to closing, drinking beer or bourbon, quickly or slowly, usually depending on how banged up he appeared to be when he came in. Sometimes, he showed up with scuffs or bruising on his face and knuckles. Sometimes he walked with an evident limp. This most recent time though, he mostly just looked sad and exhausted. He’d also been coming in every night for nearly two weeks, which was longer than Maia had ever seen him stick around before.
Tonight, the bright sunset colors decorating the yoke of his black western shirt hi lighted the purple in the dark circles under his eyes. There was stiffness to his walk as he crossed the room, finally sitting on the lone stool around the back corner of the bar.

“What’s your poison tonight, sweetheart?” Maia asked
“A beer, please. Then when it’s gone, another one. Just keep em coming.”
Maia poured him a pint of the house lager, glad that however stiff he was, he wasn’t getting into the whiskey just yet. She worried about him sometimes at the end of the night. He said he’d sleep in his truck and drive home in the morning, but the nights were getting colder and she never saw any blankets in the flatbed when she’d helped him to it, letting him lean on her shoulder and keeping him steady while he repeatedly told her
“a pre*hic*preddy lady lig you shouldn bother wi’ me”
It was the most he ever talked to her, when he was least likely to remember it. But still, she mused, he was always polite, always tipped well, never caused a bit of trouble. It also didn’t hurt that he was strikingly handsome, with bright blue puppy dog eyes, a straight, classical nose, and a square jaw covered in a cropped, brown beard. His shoulder length blond curls framed his face and…
The sound of a glass clunking down on the bar shook her from her reverie. He’d already finished. She placed another pint down in front of him and went to clear away the empty.
“Wait” he grabbed her wrist firmly but gently, it was a strangely comforting sensation.
“Can you leave em on the bar for me? Stack em up, so I can see. Gives me a sense of accomplishment.” He smiled wryly.
“Sure thing, just don’t knock ‘em over and trash my place, okay?” She replied, leaving the glass where it was. He released her wrist.
“No topplelin’ scouts honor” he grinned, bringing the fresh pint to his lips and locking eyes with her as he drank long and deep, breaking their gaze only when the glass tipped past his eyes then resuming it immediately. He slammed the glass down on the bar before gently stacking it inside the previous one, let out a long, loud belch, then grinned.
“‘Scuse me, m’am. Here I am tryinna impress you and I go an make an ass of myself.”
Maia placed another beer in front of him.
“If you wanna impress me, you’re gonna have to do that a couple more times. As for making an ass of yourself, don’t worry about it. I’ve always thought you had a nice ass.”
She winked and turned away, going to ring up the only table that had been filled in the past hour. There was a local game on tonight, and her bar didn’t have TVs, so the place had been pretty dead since the family dinner crowd cleared out. She was used to slow nights now and again, but had never had one coincide with the cowboy being in before. Walking back to the bar, she filled another pint for her lone remaining customer, paused, then grabbed another glass and filled it.
“Mind if I join you for this one? On game nights this is about as busy as it gets in here.”
“I ain’t gonna keep a pretty beer maid from her beer” He stifled a burp and picked up his fresh glass, stacking the empty on the bar with the others.
A mischievous grin cracked across Maia’s face.
“Race ya.” She said, clinking her glass with his and bringing it to her lips, chugging the cold lager down as quickly as she could. She tried to open her throat. She heard his glass hit the bar just as she swallowed her last gulp, then slammed down her own, meeting his eyes and blushing as a belch escaped her own lips.
“Scuse me!”
He grinned at her then let out a full on, hand on belly, ridiculous facial expression, teenager fucking with his friends belch that seemed to last a full minute.
“Scuse you is right” he said, grinning at her,
“You lost.”
Maia stuck her tongue out at him and turned back to the taps, filling two more glasses and placing them on the bar.
“Let’s go again then. Best two out of three.”
“Suit yourself, lil lady” was his calm response. As his eyes lowered to his pint, she noted they paused for a moment on her rather expansive cleavage, exposed by the dirndle barmaid uniform she wore. She grinned and they clinked glasses. Before she was even half way through, she heard the telltale clunk followed by burp signaling her loss.
“Best *uuuuurp* best 3 out of five!” She said loudly as she slammed her glass down, not ready to admit defeat. She filled two more glasses and set them down.
“You sure? Don’t wanna get you in trouble. I know it’s dead now but someone might come in, an’ the bartender being sloshed might raise some eyebrows.”
She leveled her eyes at him then turned, wordlessly, and walked to the door. Producing a key from her apron pocket, she locked the door, and returned to the bar to continue the contest, only to find the two fresh pints she’d poured were now empty, having joined the stack on the bar, now 6 high. She noted that her empties were in their own stack. He was keeping score. His eyes looked a bit shinier, his grin a bit looser, his whole body relaxed. His right elbow rested on the bar, but his left hand appeared busy with something under it, rubbing his gut by the looks of it. That shirt had looked tight when he walked in. She kicked herself for not stealing a glance at it on her way back from locking up. It was probably gaping at the buttons by now…
“Old fashioned lock in, sounds good to me! Let’s keep this contest going. I could use some wins on my record, and I’ve always wondered how much you could pack in under that frilly little apron *uurp* apron… thingy” he laughed.
“Sorry, these are starting to hit home, I might get flirty, fair warning.”
Maia set down four pints on the bar, sliding three towards him.
“How about a handicap match?”
He looked at her strangely for a moment, then shrugged.
“You’re on.” He made eye contact with her again, maintaining it unless blocked by a glass, gulping down pint after pint almost defiantly. Her only glass and his final one slammed down in unison.
“Fine, we’ll call it a draw.” Maia smiled at him, then turned and filled up three more glasses, placing them on the bar.
“Now, about getting flirty” she walked out from behind the bar, coming to lean on the corner next to him.
“Are you sure you wanna do that? This apron hides a lot, but that shirt is hiding nothing” she noted his pupils dilate as she spoke and stepped closer, taking his arm and turning him to face her. She looked down and her jaw nearly hit the floor. His torso, normally muscled and thick like the rest of him, was transformed by a bulging belly full of beer. The buttons on his shirt hung on for dear life.
She handed him the next pint and traced her fingers down the islands of exposed flesh peeking out.
“You keep going like this, you’re gonna pop these buttons right open. Make a spectacle of yourself. End up a moaning, bloated, drunken mess trapped under an absolutely out of control beer gut.”
He finished the glass she’d handed him and grabbed the next, hungry, bleary eyes begging her not to stop.
“Is that what you want?”
He chugged and moaned through his gulps, she noticed a bulge pressing against his jeans, his free hand straying to rub the underside of his gut and stealthily rub against it as well. His buttons strained. She could practically hear them creaking, then…
*pop!* as the first of them went flying. He slammed down his glass and grabbed the last one, his first gulp of it popping another button open. The exposed flesh was too tempting not to touch. She placed her palm on it and rubbed just a bit, gently. He moaned even louder between swallows, finishing with a long, loud belch that turned into a moan. The glass clumsily clunked on the bar, then all of a sudden her back was against it and he was against her, gut pressing under her boobs and against her own soft, somewhat swollen belly. He looked down at her, clearly drunk and horny now but still waiting for something.
Maia placed her hands on either side of his bloated gut and smiled up at him.
“Just kiss me alr”
Before she could even get the final word out, his mouth was on hers, his weight leaning into her, hands greedily cupping her breasts, thumbs pulling her nipples free with impressive dexterity considering how much he’d had to drink.
“These fuck*hic*fugin things holy shit!” He dropped his head, lowering his mouth to one and circling the nipple with his tongue. Now it was her turn to moan, fingers curling in his hair and holding him in place.
She’d never had her tits loved on so thoroughly. One hand played with one while he sloppily sucked and teased the other with his mouth, he had her dripping, squirming, begging for more, for something, anything, please!
He finally took pity on her, dropping down and sliding his hands between her legs, grabbing her ass, and lifting her onto the bar like she weighed nothing. He put her down and grabbed on to steady himself, another hiccup escaping and rocking his gut. She heard a slight sloshing, he let out another burp, then pulled his barstool over and sat down, facing her, and spreading her knees before him.
“Dirty, slutty little barmaid ain’t got no panties on, huh?”
He stared at her exposed pussy as it dripped onto the bar, reaching a finger down and sliding it through the slick. His look was positively filthy as he locked eyes with her and slid the finger into his mouth.
“You know, you really should eat something, soak up some of that…”
He buried his face in her pussy before she could finish, wrapping his arms under her thighs and pulling her down towards him, one hand on her belly, grabbing and kneading gently while the other did the same to the soft fat above her clit, pushing it down towards his mouth as he worked away on her like it was his fucking job.
Whatever circular breathing technique he used to chug beer faster than she could pour it was clearly at work here as well, he took no breaks for air, working her into a frenzy, until she was squirming and begging, pleading for him to just *** already.
He shook his head no with his mouth still pressed deep into her, her clit sucked into his mouth, and the motion pushed her over the edge. He held her ass steady as she spasmed against him, chuckling a bit as she finally went limp, panting and moaning weakly.

“If thas not tha bess thing I’ve eaten sittin’ at a bar in m’life, I dunno *hic* dunno what is.” He got to his feet, steadying himself briefly before taking her hand and pulling her up straight, then continuing to pull her forward and draping her over his right shoulder.

“What was that about fuckin’ you? Now, was it?” He smacked her ass lightly.
Maia was pleasantly surprised he didn’t drop her, not that he hadn’t proved his strength before, but she was worried he’d lose his balance, carrying her from the bar to a table and laying her on her back gently.
She reached out and grabbed one side of his open shirt, pulling him against her, then sliding her hand inside it to stroke the curve of his belly.
“You like that, huh? Pervy little bar wench has the horn for the beer gut.” He grinned down at her.
“That’s why you bother to help me to my truck, is it? Coppin’ a feel?” He bent the rest of the way down and kissed her. He was gentle but firm, and only a little sloppy. She felt his hand pushing between them, popping his belt and jeans open. Pressing against her as he freed himself, she felt the length of him throbbing against her cunt, hot and hard. His voice rumbled in her ear.
“I’ll make a deal with ya”
He slid his shaft against her drawing a moan from her lips
“You keep touchin’ me like that, teasin’ me about this huge swollen gut”
He pushed inside her in one smooth motion then continued.
“An I’ll keep fuckin’ you”
He pulled back then slid back in, deeper this time, grinding against her a bit as he almost bottomed out.
“Til you can’t remember your own name, or how you got here, or anything in your life up until this moment, getting fucked like the dirty, drunk little beer slut you are.”
A hand slid over the side of her soft belly and up over her breast.
“Even if the only thing ‘little’ about you is this tight. Little. Pussy.” He punctuated the last three words with deep thrusts, his hands slid under her shoulders for leverage as his head dropped back to her now fully exposed breasts, teasing her nipples furiously with his tongue. His pace increased, but he kept close contact, wrapped around her and against her and inside her. His gut didn’t get too jostled this way, but it had the added benefit of keeping the firm, sloshy mass pressed against her belly and the soft fat above her clit, pushing them down towards his dick every time he pulled back, then crushing them flat with each thrust. The effect was that of having every bit of erogenous tissue in her entire pussy massaged in unison, inside, outside, everywhere. She felt her orgasm mounting again, this time inside and out, a combination she’d never managed to achieve in her life, alone or in company.
“DontstopdontstoppleasedontstopgonnacumGonna …” She screamed as her first ever combined orgasm crashed through her body. She knew nothing prior to this moment, not her name, or how she got here, or any desire beyond being fucked by this perfect, beer guzzling babehammer.
“Jesus fucking CHRIST!! You cum so wet and sloppy on my dick, you ***ing SLUT!!” He thrust into her and his hips stuttered, his breath hitched, and he let out a cry of relief, spilling inside her, his breath in her ear.
“You’re so fucking perfect and beautiful thank you thank you thank you….” His voice trailed off as his body relaxed into hers, the hands he’d slid under her shoulders for leverage now pulling her into an embrace, cradling her neck and upper back. After a few moments nuzzling into her neck, he sighed and pushed himself up off of and out of her, standing back and tucking his cock into his underwear but leaving his jeans open. He walked fairly steadily over behind the bar, retrieved a clean towel from beneath it, and returned to where she lay, still spread eagle, dazed, on the table they’d just defiled together. He knelt down between her legs and gently began wiping away her slick and his cum, now dripping out of her.
“Sorry if I said some weird shit just now. I shouldda asked first if ya were cool with that. I know I like it when ya talk to me that way, but I shouldnna’ assumed a two way Street.” His voice was soft now, like his touch.
“It’s okay! I mean generally yeah, I’d prefer to be asked, but you were practically speaking my internal dialogue for me. It’s one of the reasons I came harder than I ever have in my life. So, don’t apologize.”
She sat up as he finished cleaning her, looking down at him where he still knelt in front of the table. Reaching a hand down to cradle his cheek, she smiled at him.
“And do come up here and kiss me again.”
5 chapters, created 1 year , updated 1 year
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New2thegain 1 year
I really enjoyed this one! Especially the examination of the dichotomy between Apollo and Dionysus, and the need for tension in art. All in all, the story was just really sweet! (And plenty sexy!)
Bella Swells 1 year
Thank you, I’m glad you like it!!