(No BDSM yet but be patient. Things will develop.)
*
Josie lounged at a small round table in a corner of the bar with a beer and shot. Her attitude didn't invite company yet after a few drinks the arrogant or stupid would inevitably make a try. Dressed in tight jeans and t-shirt her slim figure was attraction enough.
The long black silken hair framed an attractive face which had been spoiled by a grimace too often held. Early in the evening the inexperienced would fancy their chances and later a cheap guy would think he didn't have to buy her many drinks. The early ones couldn't handle the put-downs and later they were disappointed to find she could hold her drink.
A tall muscular young man came to stand by her chair was full of natural athletic confidence and only partly full of drink. "Do you wanna dance?" he offered.
"No!" Josie stated plainly. The word wasn't needed for the look of disdain she flashed him was enough.
Unused to being put down in front of his buddies he reached down with a hand under her arm pulling her out of the chair. "I can teach you some moves, babe," he said with a big stupid grin on his face that was supposed to be a winsome smile full of charm
He doubled up in pain and sank to the floor. "That's a move you weren't expecting eh?" she smile. Josie looked at him with a boot poised to kick him in a kidney if he moved too quickly. A large hand gripped her shoulder.
"That's enough," Pete said. He pulled the guy to his feet and shoved him away. "Go home and take your friends with you," he said. The voice hadn't been raised but one look at who it was sent them scuttling off.
"I don't need your protection. I can look after myself," Josie flatly stated with the usual grimace on her face.
"I can see that. I need him for a job in the morning," Pete said, looking her over. "Sit down," he told her.
She was half way down into the wooden bar chair anyway. It was difficult to rise again without looking stupid so she leaned back in the chair looking straight at him with a challenging look. Keep my interest or move on was just one of the messages being shoved across the table.
"Where did you learn that move? One finger in the solar plexus to a guy like that is impressive," Pete said quietly.
"The marines," she stated, with a crooked smile that added to her beauty. The way she had spat the words spilt an uncomfortable feeling on the table between them.
"You weren't in the marines," he said, challenging her in turn.
"My father was," she said, this time looking away into the distance.
"Mine too. Taught me discipline and not to look for trouble," he said, leaving the statement open. She looked back at him obviously taking the point.
"Are you trouble mister?" she said, with contempt in her voice and a grin that merely turned up a corner of the mouth.
A silence descended on the awkward conversation as a round of drinks was delivered by a waitress. She studiously ignored them without the false formalities of earning a tip.
"Sitting in this bar drinking alone isn't the way to avoid trouble," he told her.
"Who says I'm into avoiding trouble," she threw back at him.
"What did your father do besides teach you to fight?" he asked. His curiosity had been aroused by her attitude as well as the tight fit of her jeans.
"We used to wrestle on the floor until he got me into a helpless hold. He always won eventually. Sometimes he got some of the guys from the platoon to try and take me. Sometimes I won," she looked back at him with head up, eyes narrowed, expecting something in return.
He looked at the small breasts with nipples hardening under the tight t-shirt. "A hard case I take it. You enjoyed it though, win or lose," he stated.
Josie gave him a hard look frowning fiercely. Scrutinising his face she found no sign of pathetic sympathy or sordid innuendo. A statement of fact had been offered. She relaxed a little and swallowed the biting rough whisky.
He was in his early forties. He was a handsome rough working man, not a pretty boy who would be more interested in himself than her. An eye tooth was the only thing missing, for he had all is hair and plenty of muscle, all of it from hard work rather than working out.
She was twenty four and attractive but no magazine model. Not tall but slim, except for a belly that would blossom if she ate regular and small hard breasts with a butt to match. She sat with legs apart as though to say here it is come and get it if you dare.
She leaned forward with an amused look on her face. "Do you want to fuck me Pete?"
***
In the old fashioned motel room Josie pulled her panties off, dropped them on the floor and lay back on the bed, not bothering to remove the t-shirt. He too had simply dropped his pants on the floor.
His breathing became ragged and gasping but at the last moment he held back. With his cock still inside he lifted himself on large rough hands to look into her face. It was difficult to make out the expression with light from the blinds slatted across her face.
"You're not enjoying this," he stated.
"I'm not drunk enough. Don't tell me you're a gentleman wanting the lady to cum first. Carry on. Get it over with," she told him. The restrained emotion didn't hide the disappointment in her voice.
He reluctantly pulled himself from her and rolled over to face the ceiling. "It needs more than a good paint job," he said seriously.
"Who are you Pete?" she asked. It had been a long time, if ever, that she had been interested in someone.
"I had a good local hardware store until that damn chain moved into town. I lost the business and my wife too. She ran off with the area manager. Don't think she meant it to spite me. He had a nice big regular pay cheque on offer." Leaning over the edge of the bed he fumbled in his jeans. "Here," he said.
She didn't want to see a sad family picture from his wallet and was surprised when he dropped a few crumpled bills on her tummy. "What's this?"
"Isn't that the rate for a whore to listen to cheerless stories?" He rolled off the bed in time to miss the elbow punch. It crumpled the pillow instead of his face. Landing on his back he caught her as she leaped on him. He managed to grip her arms before she could strike out and supported her torso with bent knees.
He kicked away her legs each time she tried to kick him. She tried to head-butt him and missed as he held her away. She wriggled and cursed trying to get a hold on him.
He pulled her close, still gripping her arms, to suck a whole breast into his mouth. It was small and firm and he could feel the nipple growing hard from the sucking and biting.
No longer kicking out she breathed heavily from the exertion and his attention, though he knew it was something more than this. Feeling the heat of her body against his was a sensation remembered from a long time ago when sex was fun, not just a married mans duty.
She still held her body stiff as though waiting a chance to hurt him but he decided to take a chance. Without warning he lifted her up and slid her onto his cock. Her slight frame held enough weight to push her down its length embedding him deep inside her body.
"You bastard!" she breathed out in a breathy whisper. Nevertheless she pulled her legs around almost kicking his face. She began to ride him pushing down hard with every stroke. She fucked herself on him using his cock like a wild thing as though still fighting.
An angry outburst of harsh abuse rattled from between her clenched teeth and he felt an orgasm being shaken from her body. As she deflated against him he used her in turn. He quickly cum but the ride was satisfying.
