A Brief Encounter

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! A quick little story for your reading pleasure - if you prefer something longer, try one of my other stories. When finished, please take a few seconds and rate this story - one click is all it takes. And, if you have a minute, leave me feedback and tell me what you liked or didn't like about it. Enjoy!

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Looking down the concrete stairs at the bar entrance, she asked herself yet again if she wanted to go through with this - the answer was the same as always. She took a deep breath, forced her foot forward and started down the steps to the battered door which advertised that cheap domestic beers were proudly served on the premises. Pushing the door open she found a dimly lit bar smelling of cigarette smoke and stale beer. Five guys at a table in the corner openly flouted the new city-wide smoking ban, the bartender half-heartedly asking them to stop. Hard hats hung on the wall behind them. Five pairs of eyes fell on her, roaming her body from head to toe, silently undressing her.

She felt conspicuous in her power suit so far from the safe confines of the financial district downtown, a thirty four year old mother of two standing alone in this blue-collar bar. She set her jaw and strode confidently to the bar to have a seat. An admiring whistle from the corner caused her to turn her head partway but she caught herself, not wanting to give them any satisfaction.

"Did you see those legs?"

"And that ass?" another chimed in.

"What're you talking about?" said a third. "All I saw was her huge rack."

All five laughed heartily. They talked about her as if she wasn't a person, merely an object or a piece of meat they hungered for. And they didn't care if she heard them. In fact, they wanted her to hear their raunchy comments.

Finally, one said, "Hey, baby! What say you and me go out to my truck and I'll let you suck-"

"Knock it off!" the bartender yelled, bringing them a heavy glass ashtray he'd retrieved from behind the bar. He set it down with an angry

clunk.

"Mind yer fucking manners!" he scolded in a gruff voice, earning more laughs from the table.

The bartender walked behind the bar and set a drink napkin in front of her. "What'll it be, miss?"

"A glass of chardonnay."

He poured and set it in front of her. In a low voice he said, "First one's on the house. Sorry about that." He jerked his head toward the corner table. According to his shirt pocket his name was Tony.

"Thanks, Tony, it's okay. I'm a big girl, I can handle those guys."

Tony shook his head in quiet disagreement and moved down the bar, turning his attention to the TV hanging in the corner. In the mirror above the bar she watched the corner table. The men were now taking turns pantomiming various sex acts they'd like to do to her, each one more outrageous than the previous. Outwardly she ignored them, but inside she was flattered and aroused by all the attention, attention she rarely got these days. It'd been a long time since she was able to elicit such a response from a group of strangers. Moist heat pooled between her legs.

The only other people sitting at the bar were a man trying to enjoy his beer and the woman who was hitting on him. His eyes looked the woman up and down, taking in her heavy makeup, her nicotine-stained teeth, her slightly shabby clothing and he determined she'd been around the block a few too many times. He shook his head and turned his attention back to peeling his beer label. The barfly vacated her stool and tried her luck with the corner table - they quickly drove her away under a barrage of verbal abuse.

She sipped her wine and covertly studied the man five stools down from her with sidelong glances. He was some common laborer, probably a construction worker, with his five o'clock shadow, faded flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing tan, muscular forearms, and worn blue jeans tucked into his work boots. His blond hair was cut short, his face rugged and good-looking, and all he needed was a hard hat and metal lunch box to complete the picture. He noticed her, too, looking her over carefully as she watched him in the mirror. His eyes spent a long time on her legs and a good amount of time on her chest.

He motioned to the bartender for another beer and talked to him in a quiet voice as the bottle was set down. Moments later, Tony appeared in front of her refilling her glass. She looked up questioning and Tony jerked his head towards the man down the bar. She turned and gave her benefactor a slight smile of thanks and he tipped his beer in her direction.

He picked up his bottle and moved down to her, sitting with one empty stool between them, and as he sat down, their eyes met. He nodded and she nodded back. His eyes, she saw, were a mix of grey and blue, his gaze intense and penetrating but also kind. The table in the corner had grown quiet, watching.

He studied her out of the corner of his eye, taking in every detail discretely and his eyes fell on her left ring finger - an indentation but no ring. He casually put his hands in his lap, and when they reappeared she saw his own wedding band was gone. He was sizing her up, trying to figure her out. Maybe her husband was screwing the secretary and she was out to get even. She smiled into her glass as she sipped her wine. Whatever story works for him was fine with her. He turned to her.

"You know," he started, his voice a deep soothing rumble, "there are only three reasons why you would be in a bar like this." He looked at the room around them.

She regarded him coolly. "Really." It was more of a tired statement than a question.

"Sure, either you're lost," she shook her head, "or you're meeting someone," she shook her head again, "or . . . you're looking for something," he finished.

Bingo, she thought but she shrugged and stared at her wine intently.

"Such as?" she asked finally, still not looking up.

"I don't know: company; you know - someone to talk to."

She let his words hang in the air for a long time before replying. "I'm not looking for someone to talk to."

There was a flicker of hope in his eyes. "Well, there are other things besides talking."

She sipped her wine. "Like what?" she said, turning to him and fixing her deep brown eyes on his. There was a look of determination in them, challenging him, daring him to go on. There was also a hint of lust in her eyes.

He looked around before moving onto the stool next to hers. The air between them became electrified, raising goose bumps on her arms. Her nipples instantly became erect at the closeness of his body to hers and in anticipation of what she hoped was about to happen.

"You know, we could act all coy and innocent and beat around the bush, but we're adults and I ain't got time for those games. In the end we both know what I'm talking about." He leaned closer and went on, "There's a hotel nearby - it's a little rundown but it's clean." He held his gaze steadily on hers for a good thirty seconds before she dropped her eyes.

She looked down at the bar for a long, drawn out moment. It felt as if she had stopped breathing - this is what she'd come for. "Okay," she said finally, "let's go," and downed the rest of her wine.

He tossed a twenty on the bar to cover their drinks. Tony was getting a fat tip, but he didn't want to wait for his change. She was standing, her brown leather briefcase in hand, looking impatient, as if she had a meeting to get to. He steered her out the door and up the stairs to street level as the table in the corner hooted after them.

"Where's this hotel?"

"Just around the corner. This way," and he led on. "I'm J-"

"No!" she commanded in a firm voice, holding up her hand, walking briskly. "No names! Got it?"

He shrugged and turned the corner.

The hotel had seen better days, certainly, but when, she could not imagine. The neon sign over the door announcing it was indeed a hotel and not an abandoned building had the 'E' burned out. It was the type of place that rented rooms cheaply, sometimes briefly, preferred cash, and didn't ask questions. She saw he had signed the register 'J. Smith' and she noticed quite a few John Smiths were presently staying there.

The door to the room swung open and she entered, snapping on the light. The air was stale but otherwise the room seemed clean. The wallpaper clung desperately to the walls, yellowed with age and cigarette smoke, and a worn comforter draped over the tired looking bed. She nodded at the room, finding it acceptable. She set her briefcase down and took off her glasses while he locked and chained the door. With a pull of a couple of pins, her brown hair cascaded down to her shoulders and she heard him kick off his boots. Taking a deep breath, she turned and stepped quickly to him.

The faint smell of his sweat mixed with the bar odors of beer and cigarette smoke hit her nostrils, stoking the furnace of her arousal - suddenly all the available blood in her body rushed to her sex, making it swollen and ripe. The loss of blood to her brain made her dizzy and she could only hold one thought in her head: she wanted him, wanted him more than she'd wanted any other person. He started to speak but she was afraid he'd spoil the moment, so she kissed him hard on the lips.

In an instant his strong hands were all over her, running from her head down to her ass, caressing, squeezing, exploring. One hand went up the back of her jacket while the other went down the back of skirt, his fingers running over her silk panties as they kissed feverishly. She drove him back against the wall of the short entryway, their bodies pressed together, and through his tight jeans she could feel his bulge growing against her lower belly. Her fingers worked at his buttons, undoing the top few before she became impatient and tugged his shirt off over his head. Running her fingers through his chest hair she kissed him again.

He started to pull her jacket off her shoulders but she pushed his hands away and ran her hand down in between their bodies, squeezing and sizing up his package. His hands went to her shoulders, weighing her down. Hiking up her skirt she squatted in front of him, her hands undoing his belt, tugging at his zipper and unsnapping his jeans. Looking down he could see her skirt had ridden up her thighs revealing the tops of black stockings and garters. His already full erection felt even harder now, straining in its skin like an over-stuffed sausage. She tugged his jeans and briefs down and off, his cock jutting out at a right angle from his body.

Reaching out, she gripped his shaft and slowly stroked, watching as clear fluid seeped from the tip. She kissed the end, smearing his pre-cum over her lips, tasting his salty musk. Mesmerized, he watched as she pulled her head back and a long, thin strand of saliva and pre-cum hung from his cock to her lips. Still stroking, she looked up into his eyes, her lips twisted in a naughty smile. With her mouth open, her tongue out just a little, her eyes still locked on his, she leaned in and took just the tip into her wet mouth. She sucked lightly, feeling it twitch, her tongue swirling over the fleshy head and he let out a low, soft moan.

A hand went to the back of her head, his hips moved forward and back, slowly pumping his cock in and out her mouth. She let him control her, use her mouth to pleasure him. His rod plunged deeper on every stroke until the tip pressed against the back of her throat, making her gag slightly and he stopped. She let him slide out of her mouth before leaning in and kissing the base of his shaft. Moving lower, she sucked first one, then the other testicle into her mouth, bathing each with her tongue. The sensation made his eyes roll back into head, and another moan escaped his lips.

Her lips moved back to the base of his shaft and she ran her tongue up the underside of his cock, licking every one of his seven and a half inches before tonguing the hole at the tip. His hands urged her head down again, her full lips wrapped around his manhood, and she slowly took him in, her tongue undulating, her hand and mouth working together, stroking his full length. His hips resumed moving, the tempo steadily rising until once again his cock pressed against the back of her mouth. To his surprise, though, she fought through the urge to gag and continued on another inch. Her throat constricted around the knob, driving him mad. Her other hand fondled his balls, tickling and teasing him, and in a very short time his breathing became labored. He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her to her feet, and he kissed her hard, their tongues dancing. He pushed her back against the opposite wall, his hand exploring under her skirt and feeling the heat radiating from between her legs.

"Are you married?" she panted between kisses.

"Yeah. You?"

She nodded and kissed him even harder, sucking his tongue eagerly. Rough hands pulled her blouse open violently and buttons

plinked

on the floor across the room. He undid the clasp at the front of her bra, freeing her large breasts, and he marveled at them for a moment before lowering his head and taking one in his mouth. His tongue lavished her breast, his lips grazing against her nipple, making her coo. He licked and sucked each in turn, teasing her nipples, making them rock hard as she cradled his head. Soon, she was panting and she could feel the wet, white hot heat of her pussy growing. With her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him roughly onto his knees and rubbed her pussy against his face through her skirt.

Hands moved up her thighs, fingers grabbing, and she heard the ripping of fabric as her now ruined panties fell to the floor. Pushing her skirt up, he exposed the neatly trimmed patch of dark pubic hair surrounding her pink slit. She hooked a leg over his shoulder, pulling him in, his face pressing into her crotch as his tongue parted her outer folds and plunged into her. His stubble scratched the soft skin of her inner thighs, but mostly she felt the electric touch of his tongue darting over her clit. She leaned against the wall for support, her legs weak and her hand on his head, holding him close. His lips sucked on her outer labia, making them swell before his tongue traced her sex from top to bottom, causing it to unfold like a flower greeting the morning sun. When his tongue danced over her clit again and again, she pulled him hard against her, crying out as her orgasm quickly rolled through her. His licking slowed, his tongue gently lapping at her dripping pussy.

He stood, his hand hooked under her knee and she pulled her skirt up higher as he stepped between her legs. The knob of his rod pressed at her opening, dividing her, slowly pushing into her. He pulled a little ways out before pushing in deeper, paused and slid the rest of the way in. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on tightly as his hips began to slowly move, his cock sliding in and out of her. His face was shiny with her juices and she tasted her sex on his lips as she kissed him again, thoroughly lost in the moment.

Here she was, in some dingy hotel room having sex against a wall with a man whose name she didn't know, someone she'd just met in a bar, and she hadn't even gotten her clothes off. It all felt so wrong and yet so good. His movements became faster, his thrusts sharper, the sensation more intense, and her teeth clamped down on his shoulder. His body stiffened at the sharp pain of her bite but he continued thrusting, until with great effort she shoved his body away.

She slipped her jacket, blouse and bra off before unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor, and walked towards the bed wearing only her stockings and garters. Before she got there, however, he grabbed her from behind and turned her roughly toward the low, shabby dresser. His strong hands bent her over at the waist and she gripped the edge of the dresser for support, his cock pressing between her buttocks. She trembled with anticipation, wondering what was coming next, a mixture of fear and excitement on her face. He stepped back, and she felt his hand move between her legs and a thick finger slide inside her pussy. After a couple of strokes, a second finger joined the first, and then a third, making her gasp. Her mouth hung open in pleasure as she watched him in the dusty mirror, his eyes looking hungrily down at her ass as he finger fucked her.

His fingers slid out, he held them in front of her face and smeared her juices over her lips, and she sucked each finger in turn, tasting her nectar. His hands dropped to her hips and he stepped forward and entered her from behind. Now with each stroke the head of his cock rubbed squarely against her G-spot, making her moan softly each time. His hands gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pumped in and out, and now he watched their reflections in the mirror, her heavy breasts swaying in time with his hips. Soon she was moaning loudly and with each thrust her volume increased, and with each moan his pace increased. The room was filled with her cries and the

slap-slap-slap

of his abdomen against her buttocks, exciting her even more. She came, long and hard, crying out, panting for air, and he stopped, waiting for her to catch her breath.

She stood on trembling legs and turned away from him, his cock sliding deliciously out of her pussy, and pushed him back onto the bed. He lay there looking up at her, his glorious cock glistening with her juices and pointing at the ceiling. She smiled hungrily and walked around the other side of the bed where his head lay and crawled on all fours over him, settling her dripping sex on his face.

Immediately his tongue went to work, licking from the bottom of her slit to the top of her clit, his hands tightly gripping her firm buttocks. She moaned with pleasure before lowering her mouth onto his waiting cock, tasting her on him. She alternated between sucking and jerking him off, the intense pleasure between her legs disrupting her rhythm, but she knew he was close by the way he'd pause every time her tongue swirled around his knob. Her pace quickened, wanting to drive him over the edge just as she came again, but her whole body shuddered as another orgasm rocked her.

Her moans were muffled by the cock in her mouth and it slid from her lips while waves of pleasure coursed through her. Out of breath, her hand continued to rapidly stroke and twist on his shaft until suddenly, he moaned loudly and his hand was on the back of her head, urgently pushing her down. She opened her mouth to take him in but the first jet of cum hit her cheek. She quickly devoured him, the rest of his seed pulsing into her mouth until he was still. She rolled off and looked up at the cracked ceiling, scooped his cum from her cheek and sucked it off her finger. The room was silent except for their breathing, and they lay there studying the ceiling, their bodies lightly touching.

"Thanks," she gasped after a few minutes, "I really needed that."

"My pleasure." He stretched his arms over his head, completely relaxed. "I love your outfit. Christ! I nearly came when I saw those garters and stockings."

She laughed. "I'm glad you liked them, I'll have to use them again sometime." Her hand went to his chest, her manicured nails lightly dragging across his skin. "I nearly creamed when you ripped my panties off."

"Sorry about that, I'll buy you a new pair."

"No, don't apologize. Like I said, I nearly creamed at that moment." They were quiet again before she started giggling.

"What?"

"Who was that woman at the bar, the one who hit on you?"

"I have no idea," he grinned, shaking his head. "I thought you had arranged it."

"Nope, not me," she laughed again, the sound light and musical. "But she did fit right in with the scene."