Tranny whore Samara Rosetti at a Trucker's jo

I "cleaned off" as best I could with my limited resources and then Thomas got out of the truck. This is the first time I have seen him in real life and he was taller than I expected (with a much bigger cock as well). He has dark hair, tanned skin, and appears to exercise regularly. He has that rugged everyman look that would look equally at home at a construction site or in a boardroom. As we walked into the bar he said, "Hope you brought money for the drinks." I asked, "Um, this place is kinda creepy. Is it safe?"

He smiled at me and replied, "Hey, it's your choice, here or I take you into the porn shop. I'm sure you'll meet some interesting people in there." I looked at the porn shop nearby the post office. But I thought that the bar is fine.
As we walked into the bar, I took in the...ambiance? To describe the bar as a dive would be an insult to dives everywhere. The place was dark and smoke filled. There was a long mahogany bar in the center that 30 years ago probably looked beautiful and rustic. Now it just looked sad and tarnished. In the back was a pool table that was propped up on one side by cinder blocks.

The bar was filled with bikers, burly truckers, skanky women and a female waitress who couldn't be older than 17 or 18. As the girl gathered drinks behind the bar, the bartender, an older fat guy with a course beard leaned over to her and grabbed her firm teen tits as he said, "I told you to wear your uniform here, dammit!"
The girl lowered her head, put down the tray and picked up an article of clothes. She headed out towards the bathroom and said, "Yes, Daddy."
I remember looking around at the strange collection of freaks. I said under my breath, "Maybe we should have gone to the porn shop instead." Thomas reached his arm around me and squeezed my right tit. "One thing at a time, tranny." It was then that I knew I was in for a long and interesting night.

Thomas and I sat in the dirty bar, he with a beer and me with my favorite Wodka-Red Bull mix. Across the bar, several large fury bikers were eyeing me up and down. When Thomas noticed this, he leaned over and said over the din of the music, "You have some admirers. Hike up your skirt and give them a peak."