Life gets so hectic at times, that I forget to relax and enjoy it. I’d stop to smell the roses, but it seems like there is a bill collector behind every bush. Work and no play, makes me cranky, and I didn’t have time for relationships.
We all feel that need to get laid, to let off some steam. I’m not a slut, but I can be, when I need it badly. Like everyone else, I have a threshold and when I hit that cap, I need to get some. This was one of those times.
A flat tire on the way to my dead end job was just the start. My boss had reamed me for something I wasn’t even involved in. I lost one of my best clients and my favorite team got eliminated from the playoffs.
Enough, already. When I got home and made a cup of noodles, and the depression and loneliness hit. I decided I needed to get fucked.
I went to my wardrobe and picked out a teeny tiny miniskirt matched it with a spaghetti strapped satin halter. If the lines in my face weren’t signal enough, only a moron wouldn’t see my outfit as a desperate plea for some cock.
I did my hair in loose spirals, and did my makeup in lady of the evening fashion. I looked pretty good when I took the time, so I did. I even added glitter. Some lucky son of a bitch was in for a wild ride.
On a whim, I went driving downtown until a flashing neon sign caught my attention. There were people lined up down the block waiting to get in, so I figured it was a hot spot. Perfect.
The place was jumping. Heavy pulsing music blasted to a thumping bass drum while bodies thrashed and ground against one another in a blur of flesh on the endless dance floor. It was wall-to-wall with people wanting the same thing I did.
I turned down three offers of various indulgences before I could even worm my way up to the bar and order a cosmopolitan. I needed some liquid courage first and then I’d decide just how low I felt like setting the bar.
I’m not that picky. As long as he’s clean, his looks don’t matter all that much. Gentlemen were my favorites, but tonight I just wanted some bad boy to ring my bell. This place was crammed with them. I felt like a kid in a candy store with a crisp one hundred dollar bill.
Every seat in the place was taken, so I took up residence by a pillar near the main dance floor. The industrial techno just kept going and I couldn’t tell when one song ended and another began.
Another three come-ons failed to impress me, receiving the open palm rejection me, when I noticed a guy watching me. He was sitting at one of the booths along the far wall. The flashing lights made it damn near impossible to see what he looked like, but I was so horny by then, I decided he was the one.
I ducked and weaved my way through the undulating crowd and stopped in front of his table. Pleasantly relieved that he was handsome, his eyes went up and down me like a leopard eyeing its prey. I flashed him a smile and slipped into the booth next to him.
He had longish dark hair he kept in a shag, a neatly groomed goatee and sexy full lips. I couldn’t place his nationality, but he was definitely part black. I couldn’t tell what color he was in the alternating blue, red and green lights, but he was a few shades darker than me.
“What’s a sweet young…”
“Shut up,” I said, cutting him off. I didn’t want him to ruin it with a stupid pickup line.
He arched an eyebrow and gave me a ‘what the fuck’ look, but I simply scooted closer. The little round table at the booth’s center was perfect. I was so needy, I wanted him right there. Could I? Dare I? Throwing caution to the wind, I met his look with a catlike grin.
“Don’t talk, just fuck me.”
“Hey, that works for me babe…”
“Shut up.”
“It’s cool. I’m…”
“Shut up. I don’t want to know your name. I want your cock, nothing more,” I yelled over the music. A name to go with his face would make it personal. This was raw animalistic need, not a prelude to something more meaningful.
I moved my hand to the fly of his slacks and found his cock beneath the slick fabric. It grew hard almost instantly as I stroked it. My eyes spoke my desire as I gazed at him.
“Just fuck me, here. Now.”
He worked my breast out the top of my halter and sucked my hardened nipple into his warm wet mouth. I loved it. The silk fabric was tight across my boob, holding it in place for him, like an offering.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. The booth was in the darker back of the bar, but there were people all around. My pussy was all the wetter for the anxiety I felt that others might watch me fuck this stranger.
Four snaps later, I had the fly of his tight jeans open and his thick dark hard-on slid into my hand when I pushed his boxer briefs down. He was smoldering hot and I wasted no time. Who knew how long it might take for someone on staff to notice us. Getting thrown out, or worse, arrested only added to my excitement.
I leaned into him and he took my lips with his. He was probably completely confused that he didn’t even have to work for it, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t picked him for his ability to sort out a puzzle. The dilemma I had presented him with was quite simple. Fuck the girl or don’t fuck the girl.
His hand slipped up my top and crushed my tit, kneading it and I purred. I loved to be man handled sometimes. I slid across his legs and straddled his strong thighs.
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