1. The Tales From The Tavern: I Lust After Your Scar


    Date: 8/18/2015, Categories: Love Stories, Author: el_henke, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    purpose of gathering attention – which they did. She walked straight to the bar, where Big ol' Tom was serving his guests. It took him a while to catch up with all the open orders. The woman in her mid thirties patiently waited, sitting on the only free barstool, her eyes hid behind those immense shaded glasses that covered the better part of her face. Although her eyes could not be seen, it appeared obvious that her gaze was locked to the heavy mahogany of the bar counter. The customer to her right chatted her up, "Do you wear these so people don't see that huge ass scar?" She ignored him. Before he could press on with his rude approach, Big ol' Tom interjected, "I apologize for the waiting, ma'am – and for that crude fellow here as well. What can I offer you?" The mysterious woman stood up, leaned in, and waved her hand so Big ol' Tom would lean in as well. Then, she placed her lips right to his ear. " I hear you like stories in this establishment," she whispered, making Big ol' Tom nod slightly. "Drinks on the house for as long as the story goes, right?" she paused to allow him to nod again. "Does that count for my listeners too?" "Usually no," Big ol' Tom replied, himself whispering as well, "but I have a feeling your story's gonna be worth it. So I'll make an exception today, if you wish so." "Good, so we've got ourselves a deal. Gather your people, and tell them they'll get so see my scar." The old barista obliged to her request, and drummed up his people around her. ...
    Before long, a considerable crowd had gathered around the lady who was wearing the shades. As promised, she revealed her face, displaying her remarkable scar, eyes closed. She rejected the bid of a few customers to touch it. After a few minutes, she sat back down on her barstool; a freshly filled pint of Big ol' Tom's best draft was already waiting for her. Back to the current events: "I'm still not comfortable with people staring at my disfigured face like this, you know," she resumed, having put her glasses back on, "you know, the constant watching, the never-ending talking as if I wasn't there, the kids pointing at me, yelling at their parents, 'look, mommy, look!' Am I a god fuckin' damn zoo, or what? I just feel so exposed without my glasses." She paused to find the better part of her audience nodding in affirmation, although they as well had not made as much as an effort to keep their staring at her prominent scar less obvious. She had to admit to herself, though, that it was indeed not easy to focus on anything else if such a striking scar presented itself to everyone's eyes. She gulped down the entire content of her pint at once, chuckled, and with a cheeky grin then added, "On the other hand, I've made myself some good fun horrifying some of these all too nosy brats who couldn't take their eyes off my neck by lifting these glasses, and winking at them with my broken eye. That expression of mere trauma is priceless, believe me folks." She hammered the glass back on the ...
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