Dating A Horny Drunk

This is story #21 of my series about my post-marital sexual journey. Read the first story (Babysitter Lauren) or my profile, for any background needed. You may see references to prior stories/people, but for the most part each story stands on its own.

Not everyone likes me or my stories. That's OK.

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Stacy

A few weeks after Jen left the firm, during which time I used Bobbi Jane's mouth a few times, I attended a work conference that was managed by a perky little thing named Stacy. When I checked in, I noticed that Stacy wore no wedding ring.

I flirted slightly with her throughout the next two days, and I asked a colleague what he knew about her. He said she had been divorced for years, but he thought she was engaged. Bummer. But you can't believe everything you hear right?

We connected on LinkedIn, and I sent her a message thanking her for a great conference. She was gracious in accepting my thanks, and I suggested that we should get together for a drink someday. She readily accepted, and provided me with her email address.

I emailed her an invitation for the next week, and she accepted, with a response - "Is this business or personal?"

I said, "I hope a little bit of both."

A few days went by, and she emailed that, while she appreciates the offer, she is involved with someone and "might get myself into trouble" if she has a drink with me. I said I understood and didn't want to cause any trouble, and wished her good luck.

Later that night, she emailed that she would really like to get to know me better, so I suggested lunch instead of a drink. (It always starts with lunch, remember). We got together near her office and had a nice lunch. She was evasive about whomever she was seeing at the time, and I didn't dig too much. Afterwards, she emailed me from her private email address, along with her cell number. Apparently, the boyfriend was fading quickly.

Stacy was 51 at the time, me still just 44. She was small - not what I'd call petite or tiny, but a bit on the shorter side. She worked out in her basement every morning, so she had great legs and a tight ass, and her tits were about a B cup, also in pretty good shape for a 51-year-old with three kids.

We got together for a drink later that week, quite far away from where she lived, and shared a pretty hot kiss in the parking lot. After some texting over the next few days, Stacy asked if she could come over to my house. Silly question, of course she could.

Once in my living room with a glass of white wine, Stacy took the initiative of straddling me on my lap on the couch, and picking up where we left off in the parking lot. We were both wearing jeans, and my hard on was getting painful as she dry-humped me.

She said, "I feel something big and hard, is that for me?"

I said, "It's yours if you want it."

"I do!!" she replied, "just not right now."

"Tease" I said, jokingly.

Maybe she was taking it slow, or maybe she wanted to break it off with her boyfriend first, who knows. I played along.

She rolled herself off of me and asked for another glass of wine. I poured her another generous pour, and I explored the "boyfriend" situation.

I said, "It's one of three things. One, you either don't have someone, but you just said that in case you didn't like me, then you had an excuse. Two, you have someone, but he's in the military on assignment or in jail or something. Or three, you have someone, but he's not getting the job done in all phases, if you know what I mean."

She took another big swig of her wine, and straddled me again, and said, "you're close, it's more like number three."

After more kissing and hands and grinding, she stood up. She stripped out of her top and jeans right there in the living room. I pulled my shirt and jeans off as she did, and she resumed her position on my lap. More kissing and grinding, only our underwear separating the deed.

She reached over and grabbed her wine, took another drink, then slid her panties to the side, pulled my cock out, and sat back down on it. Her pussy felt great, and I pulled her tits out from her bra until she finally reached back and removed it.

I was kind of confused about how this played out, but then I remembered her comment about getting herself in trouble if she met me for a drink.

Ding ding ding!!

Stacy is a drunk slut!! Can't keep her pants on when she drinks. That explains why twenty minutes ago she said "not right now" but was now impaled on my dick after drinking another glass of wine.

Stacy had very sensitive nipples. As soon as I touched them, she really got into it. As I pinched and nibbled, she became more animated, finally letting loose with a cry as she came.

I stood up with her wrapped around me, laid us both on the floor and spread her legs wide. I held her legs open by her ankles and got a good look at her pussy for the first time. Very small patch of black hair just above her slit, matching her hair color.

"Carpet matches the curtains" I thought, or whatever the saying is. I put her feet on my chest so I could play with her nipples some more, then up on my shoulders so I could pound her to an orgasm. There had been no talk of protection or vasectomies, hell she's 51 so I suspected she was past her prime anyway, and if she wasn't gonna ask then she probably didn't care.

I blasted away and I could feel her cunt squeezing my cock, milking my cum from me. We laid together for a few minutes, then got up and resumed positions on the couch. I re-filled her glass, and we drank some more, just sitting there with nothing on but our underwear.

A half a bottle of wine later, and Stacy was on her knees in front of me. She had taken my underwear off and was sucking on my cock and balls like no tomorrow. I was only half buzzed (as to Stacy's 100% buzzed) so I wasn't worried about being able to get or stay hard. I was more worried about my ability to come. She was working my cock like she wanted a load in her belly, but it wasn't happening between the booze and the load I had already put in her pussy. I was enjoying her efforts though, and she looked great on her knees with my cock in her hands and between her lips.

She started to get tired, and sat back on her knees, continuing to stroke my cock while she took a break.

She had a great ass, and I wanted it, so I said "Go bend over the seat of that chair."

She scooted herself over and did as told, and I slipped her underwear off. Lining my cock up with her cunt, I forced myself into her and she squealed. Her ass was small but round, and there was just a hint of waves as I pounded her. Her asshole was winking at me, so I moved my thumb to give her a little tickle. She immediately reached back and removed my hand.

"Hmmm" I thought, "not into ass play I guess. Maybe not drunk enough."

No biggie, I can live without ass play. I fucked her for a good five minutes. She reached back and fondled my balls, and that sent me over the edge. I pumped another load into her with a grunt.

I grabbed a throw blanket and we rolled onto the floor and crashed.

An hour later, she was up, dressed, gave me a peck on the cheek and took off. She still had a teenage son at home and couldn't be out all night.

Stacy and I "dated" for about four months. I say "dated" because we never went on an actual date. Our relationship consisted mostly of her coming to my house, we'd drink and talk for and hour, go upstairs and fuck or sometimes I ate her out and she blew me for a load, and then she left.

She wasn't into the rough stuff. I pulled her hair and slapped her ass and called her a slut, but her reaction was not positive.

We never spent a night together. Only two times were we out in public. Once was when I met her at a bar after work when she was out with her work friends. She had me wait at the bar for them to leave before she came over to me. She never introduced me.

The second time was when I took her to a local community fundraiser. She hardly spoke to anyone, and all she wanted to do was drink and then get home to fuck.

I brought up the boyfriend a few times, and she normally responded with something like "yes I know I owe you an explanation." But then she'd put my dick in her mouth and I'd forget about it. We never went away together, never spoke on the phone, only texts.

After the event, I broke it off with her. My friends thought I was nuts -- a relationship that involves only alcohol and sex, no sleeping together, no dinners or movies or dates of any kind, no expense whatsoever. Nothing but true, no strings attached sex.

And I turned it away. Maybe my friends had a point!

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