Caught Behind the Bar

Casey’s got a full tray and no room to breathe. Bree’s wiping down the bar like she doesn’t see her. Sun’s cutting through the windows; every stool’s taken. When Casey ducks behind for a break she doesn’t just sit, she drops between Bree’s legs and runs her tongue straight over Bree’s clit. Bree keeps her hands moving, rag in one, glass in the other, nodding at customers like nothing’s happening. People start pausing mid-sip. By the time Bree bites her lip and comes, half the room is staring. Casey stands up, smooths her skirt, and slips back to serving like she didn’t just have the bartender’s taste on her mouth. Next round Bree slides under the counter, pulls Casey’s panties aside, and sucks until Casey grabs the rail and shudders hard enough to rattle the ice. Applause breaks out. Someone shouts for a kiss. They lean over the wood and go deep, tongues working, hands sliding down to grip ass through thin cotton. The crowd wants more; the girls give it. Skirts ride up, shirts peel off, until they’re bare on top of the bar, knees spread, pussies grinding together, wet sound clear over the music. Casey’s on her back. Bree straddles her face, rides until her thighs shake and she comes loud. They switch. Casey drops down, locks her cunt on Bree’s mouth, rocks forward till she’s shaking too. No one hides anymore. Every eye in the room is on them, and the two on the bar couldn’t care less.