Tumby and whiskey 🤤
Art By: juice inyoureye
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Chloe adjusted her glasses as she stepped into the crowded bar. She was immediately surrounded by green lights, loud music, and the kind of rowdy but joyous energy that only showed up on St. Patrick’s Day. The place was packed from wall to wall, bodies pressed together, drinks raised high, laughter roaring over everything. It had exactly the kind of vibe she was hoping for, the kind that made it easy to get caught up in the festivities. She lingered in the entrance for only a moment before pushing further inside. She slipped between groups of laughing strangers and raised glasses, brushing shoulders and weaving through the packed space with a bit of effort. She eventually made it to the bar and found an opening at the counter. She stepped up to it, had a seat, and rested her hands against the edge as she waited to be served. Up close the surface was cluttered with half-finished drinks and spilled whiskey. The air was heavy with the scent of alcohol but there was something faintly sweet beneath it all. She pushed her glasses back up her nose and glanced toward the bartender, ready to order something simple but something strong enough to match the mood.
He was shorter than expected, his head barely high enough to see over the counter. A neat patch of bright red hair framed a small, surprisingly noticeable bald spot at the crown of his head. Freckles dusted his pale cheeks and the bridge of his nose, making his lively green eyes stand out even more. Despite the chaos of the crowded bar, he moved with a surprising lightness, almost gliding from one spot to another as he poured drinks and rearranged glasses, never bumping into anyone or spilling a single drop. Once he was done refilling some glasses his attention darted to Chloe and he made his way over to her. He rested his hands at the edge of the counter as he leaned forward and gave her a small, knowing smile. “Well then,” he said, his voice carrying easily over the music without needing to be loud. “What’ll it be tonight?”
Chloe adjusted her glasses again and let out a small laugh. “Something strong, I guess. Just a single drink to start.”
He nodded with a twinkle in his green eyes. “A wise choice.” He leaned back just slightly, hands still resting on the counter, and gave her a playful glance. “Just so you know, drinks are bottomless tonight and you don’t need to worry about paying. It’s already covered.”
Chloe blinked at him as she traced a circle on the countertop with her finger. “Covered?” she parroted back to him.
He gave a small shrug. “Just enjoy yourself,” he said. “Take your time. Have as many as you want.”
Chloe hesitated for only a moment, then let out a small laugh. “Alright. One to start.”
The bartender grinned and, with the same surprisingly light motion he had used all evening, poured a glass that gleamed under the green lights before sliding it across the counter toward her. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “Tonight’s about enjoying yourself.”
“I can drink to that.” Chloe lifted the glass to her lips and took a careful sip, the liquid warming her throat and spreading a faint buzz through her chest. The sweet undertone she had noticed earlier mixed pleasantly with the burn of the whiskey, and she found herself smiling at the flavor. It was stronger than she had expected, but in a good way, the kind of drink that made her feel… lighter. She drained the glass faster than she meant to, a slight flush rising to her cheeks as the warmth spread down into her stomach. Chloe set the empty glass back on the counter, letting out a soft sigh as the warmth of the drink spread through her chest. It was pleasant and she found herself reaching for another without much thought. The bartender moved with the same effortless grace as before, pouring and sliding another across the counter toward her in one smooth motion. Chloe picked up the second glass and took a careful sip, letting the liquid slide down without thinking too much about it. The warmth spread through her chest and down into her stomach, and she felt a quiet, satisfying buzz settle in. She set the glass back on the counter and reached for a third, the bartender already having it made for her before she even asked. Drink after drink went down smoothly with the festive lights and blaring music became a blur.
By the fourth and fifth, she was starting to lean a little more heavily on the counter, her movements slower and her thoughts fuzzier. She didn’t notice how her clothes were fitting differently, or how the weight of her thighs pressed more against the sides of her shorts, or how the buttons of her blouse pulled tighter across her chest. Another glass appeared in front of her, and she took it almost automatically, tipping it back before it even had a chance to come to a halt. The warmth spread deeper, spreading to her hips and legs in a pleasant, lazy kind of way. Her body was growing, adding weight to all the right places to leave curvy and plush to hold. To her it felt like nothing more than a part of the buzz, so subtle that she didn’t even notice it at first. By the time Chloe was a dozen or so drinks in, the rhythm of the bar had fully absorbed her. The laughter blurred with the music and the warm, sticky scent of alcohol clung pleasantly to her skin. She had lost track of how many glasses she had emptied, simply letting each new one slide across the counter and into her hand.
Her blouse was beginning to protest. The fabric strained against the swell of her chest, each button sitting a little tighter than the last. It didn’t register to her however as her focus was on the warmth spreading through her limbs. Her mind was hazy and her thoughts were slow, making everything feel soft and lethargic. But when she lifted her next glass, the top button finally gave way with a small, sharp snap. Her bralette covered breasts tumbled out, spilling forward and pressing against the counter as she froze, cheeks heating in embarrassment. Before she could recover the bottom button followed, letting her belly roll gently forward and rest across her lap. The fullness of her hips and thighs pressed against each other, dwarfing the creaking bar stool that was being abused by her ever increasing weight. Another glass was already being slid toward her, and Chloe tipped it back in one smooth motion. Some of her drink trickled from her mouth and down her chin. The warm liquid soaked into her bralette, clinging to the curve of her breasts as they spilled slightly from the sides, soft and heavy in their newfound fullness. She let the glass settle back on the counter, too drunk to be aware of just how much her body had changed over the night. By morning, there would be more than just a hangover waiting for her.