The Games People Play.

This story was inspired by a message string with another AFF member.

I was recounting a silly game that I play with would be suitors, sometimes I’m the aggressor, sometimes not, and this not-so-subtle ice breaker is definitely a conversation starter.

At the bar, after someone of interest joins me or I invite myself to join him, I discreetly place a condom and a quarter on the bar. Attentive bartenders or other patrons occasionally notice, but mostly not.

The condom conveys a clear message but the quarter causes a pause, and generally a little confusion, inviting an inquiry.
“Pickup up the condom and you can use it once; pick up the quarter, and you flip for double or nothing.”

The inevitable ensuing conversation devolves into negotiation and clarifying the terms of the engagement. Contracts are fun. Social contracts are nutty.

Some are quick to grab the condom without discussion, which kinda blows the dance of seduction, no sexy talk, straight to business, which is fine, when I’m in the mood for that.

Others use this opener as an opportunity to arouse my mind and explore sexual fantasies over a couple of cocktails, my personal faves.

The overconfident and bold players, finger the quarter, scooting it around, without taking it off the bar, teasing themselves and me, with the chance at potentially using two of my three ports.

These conversations are the most fun because the expectation is for a full evening, filled with multiple orgasms, for them and me. No quickies here. My pussy tingles and dribbles at the mere thought of it.

Encouraging the bold leads to explicit conversations about how they intend to use their two shots. The mind is the most powerful sexual organ, and my mind is ripe for these chats.

When this mental foreplay reaches its apex, and it is time to choose, I pin the quarter to the bar with my index finger, lean in and nuzzle, and whisper softly, don’t risk it, take the condom, challenging their bravado, and their boastful sexual prowess.

Decision time. Which guy are you? Sexy talker but risk averse? Or willing to risk it all to claim it all? How would Polymarket bet?

The bold expect to claim their prize whether they win the flip or lose, confident in their ability to woo me. But it’s curious to see who chooses what.

But the game is rigged. The reason many are in the bar in the first place, myself included, is for the chance to score, so they become myopic and literally focusing on my perky B-cups and the bounty of my toned physique. When the opportunity presents itself, especially after a few drinks, they get ahead of themselves and starting enjoying the fantasy of my offering before my dress hits the floor.

Occasionally, I’m rewarded with the complete hookup, a trifecta of attributes: physically sexy, arousing conversationalist, and smart enough to analyze the game, and WIN IT ALL. These guys are welcome to everything I have to offer, to use me completely, no limits, no holes barred.

The dance is the same as with others, they toy with and me and their choices. At decision time, wet and wanting, I pin the quarter to the bar per usual.

And then, it’s enough to make me shudder in anticipation of what’s to cum, they pick up both the condom AND the quarter, solving my riddle.

Condoms are single use by design. So most fixate on one use or two, gambling for two, especially after a sexy chat, where I reveal as much of my playground as is legally permissible in a bar, and then some.

Sitting atop my barstool, I swivel toward them, parting my legs, tugging up the hem of my already too short cocktail dress, inviting their exploring hands and fingers to caress my thighs and trace their way up my inner thighs to tickle my shorn pussy, sans panties, my moist folds confirming my willingness and intentions.

Little is left to the imagination, leaning in for intimate conversation, a shoulder strap usually clumsily falls away, and my dress accidentally falls away, allowing glancing eyes a glimpse of my unencumbered nipple, arousal hardening it into a little spear, begging for a pinch and suckle.

One question answers the unspoken understanding of my riddle.

But one statement sends me over the top, proving the worthiness of suitor able to solve it.

The clever suitor riffs on the refrain, “I’ll use this condom in your ass, after I enjoy your mouth and pussy.”

I never said this was the only condom. Just that the one on the bar could only be used once, duh. My clutch is loaded.