My first-ever attempt at a sexual story. Figures, I do it while I'm half-drunk.
The thin line of the thong rode down my ass, rubbing the sides ever-so-gently every time I stepped forward. The short, flowery, loose skirt didn’t do much to hide the underside curves of my butt, but I didn’t care – I loved their stares. Moving through the throng, I purposely brushed against hanging hands, letting their fingers momentarily sink into the cleft of my buttocks before leaving them with a toss of my richly shampoo’d hair. Settling onto the bar stool, I leaned my elbows and locked my chin in my hands, ensuring that the bartender got a splendid view right down my silk crimson top.
“Yes, a Maitai, cutie.” He didn’t say a word, just blinked his lashes (oh, but they were cute, especially when combined with his shadow of a stubble) and babbled about not knowing how to mix one. I cocked my head and leaned over the counter, motioning for him to move closer.
“That stuff? Oh yeah, that light rum. Take some of that, and add some of that daarrk rum too. Now take some of that pineapple schnapps, and, oh snap, put it in. I want you to shake that thing up nice for me, and then splash grenadine so that the red just seeps through the whole mess. Can you do that for me, baby?” I licked my lips, knowing I could probably shave quite a few dollars if I kept this up with the poor boy. He merely nodded and ignored all else as he fixed my first of the night.
The night continued, and I hit paydirt around midnight. I didn’t see her so much as feel her entrance; she came in with stockings riding high, disappearing into the depths of a form-fitting dark green sarong. The combination would have been ludicrous on anyone else, but her waves of golden-blond hair and bright red lipstick made it work, and I felt my pussy go wet with anticipation. Finally, someone worth a damn in this after-thought for a bar.
“A martini, dry.” I chuckled at her choice – it certainly wasn’t the greatest of indications for a future, but I knew myself. If I could transform a wedded woman into wearing a scarlet A, if I could convince a young 20-something-year-old hot boi into being my slave for a week – I could capture this sexually charged vixen of the sheer stockings. I leaned over the stool separating us and ran a finger along her upper thigh while saying,
“Hello there.” That’s all I said, as anything more would be too much. Her arched eyebrows were nothing to fret about, because I simply ran my finger down until it hit the edge of the sarong and continued to the top of the stocking. I expected her to slap at my hand, or perhaps make some scathingly sober comment, but instead she ran her fingers delicately over mine. For the first time in a long time, I was pleasantly surprised.
I paid for her drink (mine was free), and I gently urged my hand onto her lower back while moving towards the door. She looked at me questioningly, and I simply said,
“I promise, you’ll like it.”
She came with me, and I walked out cupping her back thigh, right underneath her left cheek and just brushing the inside of her sarong.
My place is set above a hardware shop on Main Street, and the stairway is a long narrow climb in the darkness at one in the morning. She definitely needed my guiding hand to prevent her from falling backwards, and to be extra-safe, I slipped a finger gently underneath the silky panties. Her sarong was coming undone.
My apartment has been likened to the Devil’s den; the walls hold exotic and erotic paintings, while the entire place is lined with sheets of velvet and silk. Upon entering, I grab her left breast with a hard twist, and lead her into the bedroom, shoving a day-old thong into her mouth as soon as I enter. Her eyes widen, but I smile in reassurance – the good times are only just starting.
I wrap myself around her, grabbing a breast in each hand, fingers pinching them through the cotton fabric of her camisole top. I push my body forward hard and suddenly, so that she loses her balance and falls face-first onto my queen sized bed. My right hand pinches harder, alternately caressing the bottom of her breast and twisting the tip of the rock-hard nipple. My left hand rips her sarong off without any warning, and works hard to tear down the panties from her rounded ass. She wiggles, probably in surprise; a swift spank stops her from moving for a second and I yank the panties down to her ankles and press my full weight against her semi-nude back.
She reaches to take out the wadded thong, but I say,
“Don’t. You keep that in there, pretty bitch. You’re mine tonight, and you’re gonna taste it all night long.” I end the statement with another spank, and her body stiffens in a jerk reaction. I forcibly lift her higher onto the bed, and squat so that my wet pussy rubs against her naked butt cheeks. I grab the back of her head, taking a fistful of hair as I rub my crotch into her backside while moaning. Not two minutes later, and she’s moving her rump up to meet my rubs, and matching my grunts with noises of her own from behind the musky gag.
I abandon all pretense, and quickly turn her to face me, running my hands up and down her soft body while removing her cotton top and strapless bra. I leave the panties tangled at her ankles, and shuffle forward until my crotch is hovering over her stuffed mouth.
“You want it? It’s wet. It’s soaking wet, and you want it.” Her eyes go wide, and she starts to shake her head. But it was too late, as I had seen the desperation. She wanted it, and I was certainly going to give it to her. I rose up on my knees, pinning her head with my left hand, and came down fast and hard on her mouth. My thong rubbed against her nose, her lips, and the lacey material almost tore. I rubbed it fast and hard and said,
“I’ll stop if you can grab the thong with your teeth and pull it off. Do it, and I’ll stop.” She didn’t do it at first, but I put my full weight over her oral holes until she made muffled noises. When I let up a bit, she immediately began trying to grip it even with the gag already in her mouth. I smiled – she was so cute! And I even helped her out. I moved my hips and ass into the air and leaned down to kiss her, and transferred the dirty undergarment into my own mouth. I savored the wetness of her saliva, but didn’t give her a moment’s rest; my crotch was again grinding against her helpless lips. She caught the waistband in her teeth and held on.
I slowly let her strip the lace, and smiled with my mouth rather full. She smiled back, and closed her eyes in satisfaction. Of course, I took the moment to lower my now-dripping pussy quickly back onto her face, rubbing from pussy to ass-crack and back again. She moaned.
I felt her tongue! Hesitant at first, it slowly came out until my pussy would be rewarded every time it reached her lips. Getting a mere taste was not enough.
I kissed her, biting her lower lip while grinding my upper thigh into her crotch. Her eyes stayed closed, and I grabbed her wrists and moved them apart to the corners of the bed… Where the wrist cuffs were waiting.
So what do you think? Worth it for me to consider continuing, or ever try this again?
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