Sandra's Friday Night

"Just a little bit..." he whispered to her, knowing that she had already acquiesced to that.

Sandra didn't even attempt to offer up a "no" this time. She was determined in her path. "Just fuck me," she panted.

She closed her eyes and tried to get her bearings, but every touch and sound from the club and the booth crashed through her head. She went on instinct. The story of how she had gotten to this point no longer mattered, it was that she was hell bent on seeing it through. A Mae West quote went through her mind and she smiled for a flash, to herself. Enough drinks to blame it on the booze, but few enough that she knew it had actually been her decision, entirely.

She decided to lose herself in the haze of the night. It didn't even feel real, in the best of ways. She felt two fingers, running up and down her lips, as good as anything she had ever felt. His arm wrapped around her waist holding her in place, and it felt strangely secure. Completely lost in the moment, Sandra began to focus more and more on her orgasm, that for the third time she felt building inside of her. She was going to cum, and if that meant letting her new friend inside of her, that was what she would do.

His arm squeezed her waist, and pulled her into his lap. She felt his tip slide further into her, from below, beginning to stretch her in a most sublime way. She let out a low, quiet groan.

Sandra was torn, needing the relief of the orgasm being withheld but knowing that this had gone farther than it should.

He's going to try to fuck me. The realization that this was not teasing, or just his tip, rolled through her mind, and was quickly dismissed as the sensation of his fingers stole her attention. Then, another thought: He already IS fucking me.

His fingers slowly, languidly circled her clit...Sandra could feel her breaths getting shorter, and she knew that he was just waiting, waiting for her to climax. His cock nestled in place, and she knew that more than just his tip had pushed through her defenses at this point.

He's fucking me. I'm getting fucked tonight.

Just that realization was enough. The pretty brunette heard the sounds of the club surrounding them once more, and then a deafening silence as her orgasm finally arrived.

The first wave crashed over her, and she felt herself moaning, unable to contain her long-denied pleasure. The sweet release brought by his touch had her grinding her hips, willing his fingers to touch her deeper, harder.

Her wide eyes closed, she saw electrical sparks as her mind and body became fully overwhelmed, and she felt him push deeper inside of her from below, and she acquiesced, consumed by needing every bit of physical pleasure possible.

"I'm cummmmming..." she cried out, still gyrating on his lap as his fingers insistently continued to toy with her. He pulled her down further into his lap, and she felt more of him slide into her. Sandra simply didn't care any longer -- she welcomed it.

I'm getting fucked, she thought, and fucked good. It was not a question, but an acceptance.

Her hips widened instinctively as she accepted her new mate, even as her orgasm came to a final, gasping conclusion.

Her new friend took her silent cue and placed both of his hands at the top of her hips. Without saying a word, he pulled her down onto his shaft, which Sandra now realized was not only thicker than she was accustomed to, but also quite long. The afterglow of her orgasm was punctured by the realization that she had invited a stranger into her body, and she had to stifle a small cry as she felt her womanhood stretched by him.

"You're... fucking me," she moaned out.

He pulled her fully onto his cock in a slow, smooth motion, and Sandra let out a groan. "Yess..." she heard him hiss into her ear, "yes, yes... we both want this." His low voice was triumphant, sexual. Sandra felt the electricity in the air, and his tip bottom out inside of her, a dull pain emerging as he pushed against her cervix.

His strong hands lifted her up, and she felt herself slide along the length of his shaft. Then, he pulled her back down onto his lap, hard. Once again, he bumped her cervix. Sandra let out another cry, but not from pain this time.

But the pain also shook the wide eyed brunette out of the erotic fog that she had been in. This...was more than she could do. She was having sex, unprotected sex, with this strange man in the darkened booth of a nightclub.

She began to instinctively push herself off of him, but he held her close. "No, no, no..." she tried to reason. "I can't, I can't. I can't do this..."

"Sshhhh..." was his only response. He pulled her down again and then pushed her up. And down. And up. Slowly. Each time he lifted her up, she thought that she would be released, only to find herself being stretched and filled again, each thrust punctuated by a dull ache as he bottomed out inside of her.

"I really can't..." she said once more, well aware that she could, and that she was. He ignored her words, and she did as well. Sandra found herself being guided, slowly, up and down on his long shaft. She let out a low whine, trying to reconcile the feelings in her head with those from her body.

She tried to protest once more, but instead only a low moan escaped. The night had taken a surreal turn. He slowly guided her up and down, up and down. My God this feels good, she thought.

"No," she moaned unconvincingly yet again, as he pushed her up and down on his member. She could feel the sliding of skin against damp skin and shivered. It was only theatre, her words. Every other bit of her said "yes".

"No..." she said again, and again, in rhythm with each thrust of him into her body. It didn't sound like

"Noooo..." she said, one last desperate attempt to convince him, to convince herself. "Nooo...Oh my GOD."

He continued his rhythm. She now went silent, and closed her eyes. Sandra was getting fucked.

"Just let it happen..." he whispered, "you want this..."

He was right, she knew. As his cock slid back inside of her, she let out a long, slow sigh, and accepted her fate.

"It feels so good, doesn't it?" He remarked, as if he just assumed that her words were some perfunctory, performance art to show her chastity. Sandra nodded her head in assent and turned towards him. She stared into his eyes as he pushed into her, yet again, as if trying to memorize the face of this random man who was the lucky recipient of her needs and wants on this night out. Still staring, mouth agape, she went silent, as she continued to permit herself to be fucked.

"Tell me how much you like it." He whispered.

I love it, she thought, but responded only with a small "uh huh".

The warmth and wetness between her legs began to feel only pleasurable, and Sandra began to participate fully in the act, allowing herself to be lifted off of his cock, to the point where his tip almost exited her, and then pushing back down onto his lap.

She was dimly aware that, even in the darkened corner of the booth, they might very well be making a scene. She stopped caring, because the feeling in between her legs had taken over.

Sandra wanted more. She leaned forward, placing her hands on the table in front of her for support, the changing angle allowing her to bounce up and down on him, faster. The friction of their merged sexes began to create its own heat. She bit her lip as she heard him say, "Yes, yes, good girl...fuck me."

She felt an orgasm, a different kind than she was used to, beginning to build inside of her. The rhythmic sliding of his strange cock in and out of her was having his desired effect.

"Please just fuck me, harder" Sandra blurred out. There was no sense in denying what she wanted, and something about this, about a stranger, made it so much easier to be uncouth..

In response, his hand found the curve between her shoulder blades and began to push her forward, into the table. Her breasts pressed through her blouse into the table. He did as she instructed, fucking her harder and deeper.

Sandra could feel his breathing change...shortened, shallow gasps of air. He's going to cum soon...

"Don't cum in me," she moaned out. His thrusts slowed, and then stopped. Sandra could feel the full size of her new partner, buried completely inside of her. His hands released her hips, but then wrapped low around her waist, snaking up under her blouse. Sandra felt him cup both of her large breasts, squeezing them as if trying to milk her, pulling her slightly off of the table, holding himself inside of her body.

He's going to cum in me, she thought to herself. His right hand dropped away, and found the folds between her legs. His left hand moved to her right breast, fondling it across her chest and holding her in place. Her new friend leaned into her, his lanky frame draped on top of her, pinning her helplessly to the table.

The lovely brunette let out a small cry...he wasn't even thrusting, she was simply impaled upon his length, and yet he began to stroke her clit once more.

"I want you to cum on my cock," he whispered in her ear. She felt it, again, even though she had just came, the effects of her euphoria had passed, but the tingling in her body told her that soon, so soon, another climax would be arriving. Sandra moaned out in response, "I want that to..."

He grunted in satisfaction. "You're going to cum with me inside of you, aren't you?"

"Yesss..." Sandra could only moan. "I ammm..."

"Yes you are," he hissed. His fingers continued circling her clit. "I want to hear you say it..."

"I'm...UNNGHHHH," and Sandra felt one last guttural climax escape her body.

He groaned loudly. "I'm going to cum..." And at that point it didn't matter, in the moment she wanted it to be inside of her. Sandra had gotten the fucking that she needed. Having crossed a line, Sandra had to see it through.

Her ears started ringing, and she felt another wave crash over her, her legs bucking, body shaking.

Pinned to the table, his full weight on top of her, her new paramour leaned into her. Sandra heard a long, triumphant moan from him, into her ear.

Her eyes winced shut, she could feel his long cock twitching inside of her body as she continued to orgasm. He's cumming inside of me. She knew it was wrong, but it was what she wanted, so badly that she couldn't articulate why. Sandra couldn't breathe, couldn't stop her orgasm, even as she felt stream after stream of his semen flood into her waiting body. She heard him moan again, "yes, yesss..." and then he leaned into her, his body draped over hers. He hadn't made any attempt to pull out, and now spent, he held himself deep inside of her.

The thrusting now stopped, but she felt his penis, still writhing inside of her, and as she felt her pussy clamping down on her new partner, she finally exhaled. She knew that her brain was dimly aware of the risks involved, but somehow that only made it better. Her body was simply giving in to its natural desire.

She felt his hands, still holding onto her breasts, pull her up towards him. He grunted, and she felt him rut as far into her as he could. Rather than trying to pull out afterwards, her new acquaintance seemed determined to make this moment last. Sandra felt herself against him, and then, finally, she felt him begin to slide out of her body. She remained standing, leaning against the table, catching her breath as she felt the remnants from their lust begin to seep down her leg.

Her body still tingling, she felt him give a final squeeze to her breasts, and then he let go. "That was incredible," she heard him state, and she grinned. It was, it had been. And it felt completely surreal.

He sat down on the booth bench besides her, and she turned towards him, watching him fumble with his pants. She turned and looked at the dance floor, and still the rest of the club and world remained ambivalent to what had just transpired. Sandra realized how absolutely absurd and awkward the situation was, and so did the only thing that she could think to do.

Turning towards her new friend, she gave a she-wolf grin. "I think that calls for another cigarette before I go, don't you?"

The smile that spread on his face told her that yes, it certainly did. And she wouldn't have to beg for a light this time.