The Best Ingredient

The Best Ingredient v1.01
/wst/ 2nd Smutoff Entry
Audio reading by the sultry tones of Nyx: http://chirb.it/q4FNvI

	Sometimes, the world made more sense seen through the bottom of a glass. I could only assume that was what that man thought as he stared down at the empty one in his hand and scratched at his stubble. He had been coming to my little ‘joint’ every day, except weekends, for months, and he had yet to even look in the direction of one of my girls, let alone offer to hire them. All he did was buy drinks, inhale them, clink his glass back down on the bartop, and tap on the wood with his index finger for more. He seemed to be a bottomless pit of liquor, and his face and movements never betrayed any signs of inebriation no matter how much he consumed over the course of a night. Impressive, but weird.

	Very few words ever came out of his mouth, though I guess I kind of liked that. There were enough loud, obnoxious patrons who came to me looking for either a cheap lay due to my species and my outfit (okay, so I put a lot on display. I’ll admit it, but it’s great for attracting customers when I’m going around the city, and it is pretty comfortable in the warm weather) or a pity party for the latest awful event in their miserable lives. I’m sorry, I try not to judge my customers, but I can only put on a smile and listen to so many sob stories before it tries my patience, and I’m not a particularly patient woman to begin with. This guy seemed content to just drink and occasionally sneak a peek at me – yeah, he was certainly an odd one, but I wasn’t complaining. As long as he paid his tab punctually, which he did, he was welcome in The Manticore’s Lounge.

	Of course, he might have been the kind of guy that wasn’t really interested in women who weren’t technically human, yet could only breed with human men – that would be me, and all my girls. Then again, it begged the question: why did he keep coming to this place, in the slums, one of the few strip joints in the city that offered ‘exotic merchandise’, as the lingo went, if all he wanted to do was drink? Now, I loved my job, and I made a mean brew, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that I had the best spirits in the city, and I saw enough coins leave this man’s fingers to know that he could easily afford a higher class of intoxicants than what I had to offer. The mystery soon became one of my favorite daydream topics while pretending to listen to sad sack customers or giving a casual flirt with the guys who thought they could seduce or buy me before letting them down softly.

	It was a slow, boring night, with the minstrels in the corner playing some of their less popular ballads and a stacked lamia, Alanna, coiling around the pole on the stage in various seductive ways to tease and taunt the slobbering regulars who tossed their hard-earned pay at the ground beneath her. Before I knew it, even though he hadn’t really indicated any interest in anything other than the heavy drink in his tankard, I found myself strolling up to the familiar stranger and planting one of my big paws on the glossy wood in front of him to grab his attention. He glanced up at me, raising a curious eyebrow.

	I leaned on the bar towards him to give him a nice view of my cleavage that my top did very little to cover up. He looked impulsively, and realized I was watching him stare, and got nervous and fidgety. Cute. “Hey there, stud, you fancy a go with one of the girls in the back?” I asked him, putting on a sly smile. He froze for a second, and then shook his head. “You sure? You’ve been coming here for, oh, about four months now and all you’ve done is drink like a sailor.”

	“I, uh, I just like the atmosphere here,” the awkward man muttered.

	“Sure you do, and I guess the dancing stripper monster girls are a real friendly and warm environment. So you get your kicks off of watching, listening, that kind of thing?” I asked him, picking up an empty glass nearby and a rag to rub it clean while I chatted him up.

	“N-no! I just… it’s… you know… hard to…”

	“What? Walk up to a girl and tell her you want to buy her services for an hour?” My long, fleshy tail curled around in the air behind me, reflecting my amusement.

	“Not that!”

	“Then what is it, liquor boy? All you do is sit here and drink and look at me. You like my brews or something?” I said, enjoying this little game a little more than I should have. My cheeks were starting to get warm. My predatory instincts were awakening, despite spending most of my life learning to suppress them. I unfurled my leathery wings and let them flap a bit to try and get some air going, keep my head out of the gutter.

	“Well… yeah, actually,” he said, playing with the glass in his hand nervously.

	“Oh, I’m flattered,” I said, my smile widening into a grin. Maybe it was just all the drooling idiots and losers that I had to deal with on a regular basis, but this shy guy was pretty fun to toy with. Far too many former patrons have walked away with black eyes or broken hands after getting too touchy-feely with me. I wanted to be the one who started things, and this prey – no, guy – looked like a perfect opportunity to do just that.

	“No, really, I like your beer!” he said with surprising enthusiasm. I had never seen him be so active before. I was about to make a snarky quip and continue the game, but then he broke my game, and then me, for a moment. “It’s smooth in your mouth, not silky, but more like – gentle. The flavor is strong, yet only a little bitter, it’s almost sultry in the way it steals your tongue. It has some flaws, I wouldn’t call it great, but it’s something made with love. I can taste all the hard work and care you put into this. It’s way more intoxicating than any amount of alcohol.” The sentimental look on his face, staring at the glass on the counter, and what he said – it all just stole the breath from my lips. If I wasn’t blushing before, I definitely was now.  My spiny tail twitched and swayed back and forth behind me, betraying the heavy thumping of my heart.

	Okay, so I may have been just a little horny at the time. I won’t name dates, but it had been a while since the last time I’d gotten any tail. That must have been why some weird thoughts were popping into my head. It’s not like he was superbly attractive or anything – he was kind of an average-looking man, who clearly worked for a living judging by his toned frame, but he was nothing to write home about. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed to only have eyes for me? That was pretty charming.

	This man had beaten me at my own game, so I decided to give him a fitting reward, and start a new game, one that he definitely wouldn’t win at. Brushing the long locks of my red hair out of my eyes, I could feel the mouth of my tail slowly dilating, and I could feel a single drip of my musky lubrication drip from the edge of the pink flesh. Maybe the guy realized something was up from the predatory smirk on my face, and the way I was staring at him. He got even more uncomfortable than before, but he was oblivious to me removing a panel underneath the bar and slowly sending my tail through the opening.

	“Miss Malliadh? Are you alright?” he asked. “You look like you’ve got a fever or somethi-“ he stopped mid-sentence, suddenly aware of the way my tail coiled around his leg, moving upwards towards my goal.

	“Whatever you do, don’t touch it,” I told him, indicating the spines on the tail with one of the fingers of my paw. “Otherwise we’re both going to be here for hours emptying your balls, and I need to close the place down soon.”

	“M-ma’am?” he said, confused and understandably afraid.

	“Just get your cock out.”

	“But…”

	“Don’t worry, pal, this one’s on the house.”

	“No, that’s not what I-"

	“Get it out, before I pull you over this bar and get it out for you,” I growled playfully, with a stupid grin on my face. If I could have seen myself, I bet I would have been horribly ashamed of my conduct, but at the time, I was rather preoccupied. The poor guy did exactly what I ordered him to do, undoing the flap on his pants and revealing himself. I was glad it was a slow day, so that I could pull a stunt like this. My tail, almost moving on its own, traveled between his thighs, and its soft folds quickly found his rapidly-hardening member, and swallowed it eagerly, with a barely audible, raunchy squelch as my tail’s wet inner flesh squeezed around him.

	He immediately groaned and bent over the bar, gripping the edges and putting his face wonderfully close to my own. My dumb grin got a little wider, and I began to make the flesh inside the tail pulse around him and suck on him. This was my kind’s secret weapon. He might have won the last game, but here, he had no chance. Of course, it was rather stimulating for me, too, as my tail’s insides were still much more sensitive than any normal woman’s passage, so I soon found myself slowly gyrating my hips and squirming around, but judging by the looks of things, the guy was clearly suffering a much greater level of pleasure than me.

	Soon, I was basically grinding against the air, and my proud bosom was bouncing back and forth rhythmically in my skimpy top. He stared at my breasts like a hungry dog, drooling a little down his chin, struggling with what I was doing to his staff. He grunted and huffed, and I felt his manhood twitch a few times. “Looks like you’re already about to lose it, aren’t you?” I asked him, confident and smug with what I could do to a man without even using the rest of my body.

	“Y-yeah, b-but…” he muttered between labored pants, clearly straining to hold back.

	“But what? You wanted to last longer? Don’t worry, I hear that a lot,” I purred, reaching up with a paw to stroke his face tenderly. His face contorted with effort, and I was certain that he was about to blow – but he gritted his teeth and surprised me by resisting even still. Regardless, he was only prolonging the inevitable. The game was mine.

	“No!” he said firmly, opening his eyes to lock them with mine, focusing on me with intense effort, opening his mouth like he wanted to speak. He finally groaned, about to reach down to try and pry the tail off of him, but I grabbed both of his wrists with my paws and easily held him down. I wasn’t planning on this lasting all night, cute as he was. He winced, then redoubled his stare into my eyes, and the glow of the lanterns seemed to make his green irises dazzlingly beautiful for just that moment. My heart skipped a beat, and at that exact moment, he leaned in and planted his lips against mine. I could taste my own beer. I immediately, instinctively knew that I had lost for the second time that night. My eyes widened, my fluffy ears flattened back, and I accepted defeat. I closed my eyes and kissed him back deeply. I felt his erection throbbing and pumping his seed deep inside my tail. His brew was thick and plentiful, not the best I’d taken, but there was a special ingredient that made me enjoy it far more than any other.