A Strange Seduction

It is late; dark, but newly so. I am sitting in this unfamiliar car, in an unfamiliar state, in front of an unfamiliar bar and I am nervous. Not nervous enough to leave but nervous enough to feel on edge, keyed up—as if I've had one latte too many.

The appointed hour is drawing near so I do a check in the mirror. Everything's in place; my hair and face look fine, good in fact, but I'm flushed. Not surprising. I've worn a simple black wrap dress and heels, sexy but not trashy. I've had this body for a while now and I know how to work it when I have to. Tonight is a have-to night. I adjust the v-neck on the dress a tad bit lower. Special occasion so why not amp it up a bit.

I leave my car and head towards the bar. Upon entering I can see it's your everyday working class beer joint. Neon pheasants and cowboys light up the wood paneling. Pool tables line one side and a solid, varnished bar lines the length of the other. I can tell immediately that I'm overdressed. Women come here in jeans and t-shirts to get drunk and spandex and sequins to get laid. A wrap-dress place this isn't.

As I walk into the hazy light of the bar I can feel eyes on me. There aren't many women here and I'm drawing attention, maybe because I'm a stranger in a sea of "regulars," or maybe because they like what they see. For ego's sake, I opt for door number two.

I see an open bar stool and make my way to it. The bartender asks for my order and I down my shot as soon as he hands it to me and order another. He smiles and complies. Liquid confidence, I think. Appropriate for times like these. Before long the warm liquid has made its way through my veins to my brain and I'm feeling relaxed. Ready.

I turn my stool to scan the pool table area. I don't see you—but I can't be sure since I've never really seen you. Pictures never compare to real life. I slowly turn some more to survey the rest of the place. My heart starts to quicken and I contemplate being stood up. My eyes work a little faster hoping to find a glimmer of recognition from myself or from an unfamiliar face. My fears are unrealized as I see you sitting at the other end of the bar, next to the wall, watching me. Our eyes lock for a minute. In the flesh you are more enticing than I thought possible. Your face is strong, serious, almost studious and in no way betrays the devious, dirty mind I know lies within.

My body responds immediately as if remembering some long-lost memory I know I've never had and I fight the urge to go to you—to touch you, feel you . . . but you look away and I'm left dangling. Maybe he's changed his mind? Maybe I should leave? You look back and give me the faintest hint of a smile and look away again. I know what you want. The game is on.

The bartender's back and I order a beer, something to nurse while I stalk my prey. This bar seems filled with flannel shirts and ball caps and while I notice men looking, none fit the bill for me. I draw the line at 50 year old alcoholics and redneck don juans. I decide I need to get up and mingle—survey the scene, mark my territory.

I see the bathrooms and decide to head that way. Good excuse to walk around and flaunt my wares. On the way I notice two men at a table. One is watching me intently. Not bad. Average, but not scary. He'll do. I saunter past and we exchange smiles. I hope to catch him on my way back out.

When I return I notice his friend has gone and he's standing near the bathroom exit, pool cue in hand.

"Wanna play?" he asks.

"Sure" and he hands me a cue.

He racks the balls and breaks. As he takes his turn I look for you. You're not watching me but I sense you're keeping tabs through the corners of your eyes.

As the game progresses I make sure to flash my new friend bits of skin as I bend in various directions to make my shots. He begins to stand closer and brush against me as he passes. I can feel the sexual tension rising and I know that he's an easy mark.

When the game is over he stands next to me and I can feel his hand brush my bottom.

"Wanna play again?" he asks.

"Maybe." I glance your way and see that you're staring straight at us. You quickly finish your drink, give me another glance, and head for the door. My cue.

"I need some air, let's go outside." My nameless pool partner follows obediently.

The night is dark, moonless, and cool.

"Where's your car" I ask.

He motions to a truck at the edge of the lot. I wander over with him close behind. I'm searching for you, wondering where you are. I can sense that you're near, but you've disappeared into the night.

I lean back against the cold, hard side of the truck and pull the stranger to me. My hands on his chest, I whisper "You know what I want, right?"

He smiles and nods and begins to kiss my neck. I roll my head back and close my eyes as his tongue and lips work my neck and shoulders. I hear movement nearby. You—watching—I know it.

I turn the stranger around so he's against the truck and my back is to the air. His kisses get rougher, more urgent, and his hands begin to caress my bottom. These aren't the hands I want on me but they feel good nonetheless and my body responds and I press into him. He hikes my dress up over my hips and begins to cup and fondle the roundness of my flesh. His hands slide under my black panties—kneading, pleading for more. I can feel his hardness against my stomach. I begin to move my body against it and he becomes more frantic. Soft moans escape his lips. I know I am pushing this poor man to the edge, and I feel bad that I will leave him frustrated, but I have to keep my word to claim the prize I truly want.

His lips meet mine and he begins to kiss me deeply. My hands move to the front of his body and massage his hardness. I open my eyes and look for you over his shoulder. This is beginning to get a little too real—I need to know you're there to get me out of this.

My pool player begins to pull down my panties and I am both aroused and frantic. I need you to stop this. My panties are at my thighs now—moving toward my knees—I'm starting to think I'll have to fend him off, stop this myself, when I hear and angry "HEY!" It's you.

The stranger stops what he's doing and we both look in the direction of your voice. You're walking towards us and your face is red and angry.

"What the hell is going on here?" you shout.

I move away and pull myself together while the stranger stammers incoherently.

"What are you doing with her? She's mine?" you bluster.

"Holy shit", the stranger mutters, " I didn't know, I'm sorry man."

He's flustered and when you get in his face and tell him to leave, he puts up no fight.

With him gone you take me by the arm to your car and we get in. You start the engine and begin to drive without saying a word. You still seem angry. My mind is spinning. I'm aroused, by the stranger's hands, but more so by the proximity of you. I'm also confused and a little scared. Are you angry with me? This was your game—you wanted me to seduce a stranger while you watched—but did I go too far? I reach my hand to your leg and rest it there, hoping for a reassuring response, but finding none. I pull it away and look out the window. Now is not the time to cry, I tell myself, but I wanted to please you and I'm so frustrated.

The car makes a right and we're on an unlit, unpaved road. Looks like the outskirts of town. You pull over to the side and cut the engine. You turn to me and our eyes meet and lock again. I feel your hand on my knee and I see your face soften. You lean toward me and kiss me deeply and I can feel the stirring in the lowest part of my belly.

"Did you like that?" you whisper, "Did you like his hands on you?"

"Yes, but I wanted your hands, not his."

You smile and slide your hand up my thigh. I spread my legs slightly. Your fingertips lightly brush my panties, "Mmmm, you're wet." I nod.

"Did he touch you here?" I nod again.

"Show me—show me how he touched you."

You sit back in your seat and I lift myself up and pull my wet panties down and off. I hike my skirt up and bring the knee of my left leg up to the console between us. Your eyes darken and become heavy lidded as my hand moves down to the wet folds between my legs. I begin to slide my finger between them—feeling the pleasure build and my pussy swell.

I can see your cock rising through your pants as you watch and it only makes me more wild with desire for you.

"Touch me," I beg.

"No—show me what else he did" and I slowly, teasingly, slide my middle finger into the depths of my sex. You continue to watch as I finger myself. Your hand moves to the rising member in your pants and you start to stroke it through the straining fabric. I desperately want to touch it—to bring you pleasure—but when I reach out for you you stop me.

"Take off your dress" you say, so I untie the wrap and let it fall away. I undo my bra quickly and let my breasts fall free, erect and quivering before you. You moan and I reach up to fondle one of my nipples while the other pumps harder into the wetness between my legs.

"Do you wish he'd fucked you?" you question.

"No—not him."

You smile and reach toward me pulling my hand away from myself.

"How do you want it? Like this" and your fingers slowly and softly caress my soft, slick folds. My head rolls back and I moan loudly at your touch—so exquisite for the first time.

"Or do you want it like this" you ask brusquely as you slam two fingers into my warm hole and begin to pump me furiously. I buck to meet you and respond breathlessly "like that---I need it----please---like that."

You pull your hand away and tell me to get out of the car. I do as I'm told and stand next to the car out in the open, completely naked. I know I should be afraid of being discovered like this—but right now I don't care, all I can think about is you and your body and how much I need you.

You come around to me and kiss me deeply while you press your body against mine. My breasts flattening against your chest, "turn around" you say. You bend me over and my head and arms are resting on the hood of the car. I can feel your hands caressing my bottom, slowly massaging, grasping them tighter.

"Did you like it when he did this" you ask. I mutter yes.

"I liked watching," you say, "but this is even better." I can hear your zipper coming undone and can feel the tip of your hard cock tracing circles on my bottom.

"Oh God, please" I plead.

"Tell me, tell me what you want!"

"You—I want you inside of me!."

Your hard member is sliding up and down the cleft of my rear—toying my wet pussy each time you reach the bottom. I beg you again . . .

"Please."

"Please what" you say, and I can hear the teasing nature of your voice.

"Please fuck me"

"Like this?" and I feel the thick tip of your cock pushing the folds of my sex apart and sliding slowly into me. My knees go weak and start to buckle and you put your hands on my hips to steady us.

"Is this how you want it?" you ask as you slowly slide in and out.

"No," I utter, "harder."

"Oh" you say, "you mean like this" and you slam your body into mine sending shockwaves through me as you reach the farthest depths of my wetness.

"God yes," I yell, "please more" and you continue to pump into me—my breasts swaying violently with each crash of our bodies. You reach down and begin to fondle one as your strokes get even harder and faster than I thought possible.

"Touch yourself" you order " I want to see you come."

Obeying your command I reach between my legs and make quick circles around the hard nub. I can feel myself on the edge—all the pent up desire for you—for this—reaching its breaking point and as my mind gets to that blank, blissful state of near orgasm, I begin to repeat your name, as if a chant, until my body explodes into a ball of electricity that leaves me quaking and almost paralyzed. I feel you shudder and fall on top of me. Two heaving bodies bent over by the side of the road. When you finally pull out of me you gather me in your arms. I rest against your chest and wrap my arms around you.

"For a first time—that was pretty different, wouldn't you say?" you laugh.

"Ain't that the truth." You pull away and kiss me gently.

"How about we go find a bed and try something a little more romantic?" I smile and tell you I'd like that.

Driving to our bed I recall the night's events. And though the orgasm you gave me practically shattered my body, the sight of you next to me—slightly sweaty, relaxed—makes me want more. I can't wait to be in bed with you. To be slow, soft and comfortable; a nice contrast to what just happened.

But tonight has got me thinking . . .

"Hey" I say "how about next time I pick up a woman . . .

You smile.

. . . and how about she sticks around for the whole event?" You laugh and grab my knee. "I like the way you think."