Wrong Night Stand Ch. 01-02byspank_me_red©
I'm not a slut, but I do like sex, so when a cute guy comes onto me in a bar there's a chance that he's going to get what he's looking for. It's only fair that women get as much sex as they want, men have been shagging around for years. That's not to say I take on every man who approaches though. I'm lucky enough to be kinda cute, with an arse and tits that are pert enough to attract attention, so taking on all comers would wear me out. But I like a one-night stand every now and again. What's the harm in it?
When Jon spewed out his chat up line I knew I wasn't in for a great romance.
"You look just like Lindsey Lohan," he beamed arrogantly. "What do you want to drink?"
Although I'd heard the Lohan thing before (I didn't think it was especially true, and I'm not a fan) the price of a good cocktail in this place was outrageous, so he got himself a few minutes to work his magic. As he took his wallet to the bar I checked out his arse. Although he had youth on his side -- he seemed a couple of years older than me, in his late 20s -- he looked like he worked out too. I still wasn't convinced.
His full, kissable mouth didn't help when he got back, boasting about how much money he earned, how flash his car was and the like, but that cocksure attitude gave his eyes a twinkle. When he suggested we go back to mine for a couple of lines of coke, I thought, why not.
In the taxi he had his hand up my skirt almost before he kissed me. Part of me wanted to bat it away, to keep him in line. But I always love the drivers' eyes on stalks in the mirror. I spread my legs a little further -- more for me and the driver than for Jon -- and got my knickers mauled without finesse.
Jon's tongue was right down my throat as I rubbed his cock through his jeans, so I knew I was going to get fucked good and hard. He got a finger past the lace edging of my panties to my slit. I felt his smile through his kiss as he got the measure of how wet I was. The finger was pushed straight up my cunt as I gasped slightly. The taxi driver knew just what happened but kept the straightest of faces. I couldn't do the same as Jon pumped my wet pussy with a pair of digits.
I wasn't close to cumming but that didn't stop me being disappointed when Jon took his hand from under my skirt. He pushed his fingers to my mouth and I knew what to do. Licking every drop of moisture from Jon's too-soft hand, I stared into the rear view mirror as the driver struggled through a gear change. I knew I was letting Jon go too far but the electricity with my chauffer was too fun to put a stop to.
When Jon started to unbutton my blouse he didn't meet with the resistance he probably wasn't -- but should have been -- expecting. He scooped my modest tits from my bra, cupping the right one while pulling roughly at its small, hard nipple. I tried to keep the view of the left one unencumbered for the taxi driver and he rewarded me by running a red light.
I think we were all a little disappointed as we pulled up in front of my house. Jon paid the fare while I straightened myself out and thought how I could get the situation back under my control. I wanted Jon to know I was up for a night of dirty sex, not a night of whatever he wanted to do to me. As I climbed into the street I worked out what to do.
I knocked on the driver's window and asked if he wanted a tip. I swear he was about to say no, until I lifted up my skirt and pulled down my sodden knickers, handing them to him. I leaned in to kiss him hard and used my best Marilyn Monroe wiggle to strut to my front door, disguising the nervous energy that was making me shake. I had no idea how this night was going to pan out, but I knew now it was going to be interesting.
As I fumbled for my keys, Jon fumbled for my clit. My skirt was around my hips again, lending an urgency to our entrance. When I'm in this state, no nosy neighbours are going stop me getting felt up, but I've never had my arsed bared on the street and I thought if I didn't get us through the door soon Jon would have his cock where his fingers were delving. The door finally swung open and we stumbled face down onto the hallway floor.
Jon kicked the door shut, held me down with his weight on the small of my back and soon had his cock shoved hard into my cunt. He battered in and out with no thought to my pleasure, but I was so hot after the taxi ride that didn't care. I was going to cum first and when my orgasm arrived, it came loudly.
Jon didn't seem to take any notice and pounded away on the grubby hallway carpet, pulling me onto my knees when I was most shaky. The grip he had on my long hair kept me in position as he pumped harder and faster. There was a loud grunt and then I felt streams of hot cum inside me as Jon let go of my hair. I fell to the dirty floor and Jon walked past me into the flat.
When I made it into the living room Jon was sat on the sofa racking out some lines. His wet cock was hanging out of his jeans but apart from that he looked like he had when he'd approached me. I, on the other hand, looked a mess.
"You might as well take those off," he said coldly pointing to my disheveled clothes.
I started to do as I was told, realising that I had lost any upper hand I ever had. I left my red high heels on and wished I'd had worn stockings rather than bare legs. Naked, I sat on the sofa and Jon handed me a rolled up note.
"This ought to perk you up," he said as I straightened my hair.
Cocaine not only makes me want to fuck, it makes me want to fuck hard and dirty. I figured that as that's what I was getting tonight I might as well do the sizable line Jon had arranged on the table. I gagged slightly as it hit the back of my throat and Jon smirked. He absentmindedly pulled at my nipples as he told me to put some music on.
I bent from the waist as I chose my sluttiest of records, showcasing my high heels, long legs, swollen pussy and dark arsehole. As the music and coke both kicked in Jon demanded I dance for him. Enjoying his cold stare, I started to move, grinding my hips, smoothing my body, bending and opening my legs like a stripper. My cunt tingled as I felt cum running down my leg. As I tugged at my nipples Jon started to wank himself to hardness. He beckoned me other and pulled my head down to his cock.
As I fed it into my mouth, I noticed with pleasure that it was a good average size meaning my clit was going to get plenty of sensation when we fucked again. I can't deep throat, but I swallowed as much as I could, helped on by Jon pushing my head down, as men do. I pulled up to get my breath and to lick any pre-cum, letting myself be shoved down again.
My cunt was ready for more action, so I raised my head and pulled at Jon's clothes, scattering them on the floor. Knowing now that Jon wasn't much for foreplay, I lay on my back and spread my legs. He pushed his sporty body level with mine and plunged his cock into my dripping hole. He drove deep and hard and steady, almost emotionless, occasionally grasping at my tits.
The feeling of being fucked by a machine had me cumming quickly, again ignored by Jon who held my wrists firmly. As another orgasm started to rise Jon pulled out, wanking his cock over my face. As globules of spunk splattered my cheeks and hair he arched his back and sighed.
"Make me cum again," I begged, but he seemed more interested in the coke. With one hand I scooped the spunk from my face into my mouth, and with the other took care of my own orgasm. As I noisy came, Jon announced he needed a piss.
After cleaning up another line of powder, I set to doing the same with the clothes. Tidying up Jon's trousers a heavy metal object fell onto the floor. As Jon walked back in I picked it up and saw it was a ring. Although it was snatched from my hand I could tell it was a wedding band.
"It's none of your business," Jon said, anticipating the question.
"You're mistaking me for someone who cares," I admitted. "You can go back to her in the morning with your guilt, I'm going to stay in bed with my vibrator."
"You're a naughty little minx aren't you?" he said, showing for the first time since arriving the charm that had got him here in the first place. "Perhaps I need to put you over my knee."
Before I could argue I found myself in a position I hadn't been in for many years. Jon spanked me with the same solid, steadiness that he fucked me with. The first blow had me screaming out, fighting him, but the pain swapped to become a hot, red glow. Just as I was getting used to it Jon upped the strength and tears formed in my eyes.
"Please stop," I begged, unable to moved.
"OK, but you need to count down from 20, and each one is going to get harder. Ready?"
"Twenty," I said meekly as a sharp slap hit my bottom, making me scream out.
"And what do you say?" Jon demanded.
"Erm," I thought, though I knew the answer, "thank you?"
"That's better, now carry on."
"Nineteen -- ouch -- thank you," I continued. "Eighteen -- oh god -- thank you..."
I didn't think I could make it past ten, so hard were the blows, but somewhere in the low teens my pussy started to flood and the pain detached. When I got down to one I was confused about what number came next. Instead Jon stuck two curled fingers into my cunt and massaged the mix of juices into my hot, sore cheeks.
The kindness surprised me and I melted slightly. Then the cum and the massaging started to find their way to my arsehole. One finger and then two were bluntly pushed inside and I knew what was coming next. Jon flopped me off his knee and bore down on my delicate peach. The gasp as he brutally pushed the length of his cock right into my hole was as loud as any orgasm I'd vocalised, but Jon kept pushing until I could feel his pubic hair on my bottom. Slowly he withdrew and the relief was sweet, but he was straight back in again.
All energy left me and I molded right into the sofa as he brought up the speed. Before long he was fucking me as hard and as fast as he'd done on the hallway floor and it wasn't too much after that I found myself pushing against him as much as my poor body could take. My whole arse, inside and out was one fire and I admit I was pleased that, after he pumped my arse full of spunk, he pulled out as roughly as he'd entered me.
He muttered something about needing a shower and I knew the night was over. I still had my fingers in my cunt when, dried and free of my scent, Jon said goodbye. He didn't kiss me on the way out.