As usual, I didn't plan this nor was it expected. All I did was say yes to a friend who asked me if I wanted to go for a beer. Even though it was a Friday night, I hadn't planned on going out. I was tired, long week, and I'd been out both nights the weekend before and paid dearly for that. For starters, my old lady gave me hell for it, and on top of that, I hadn't made the wisest decisions when it came to sobriety.
Anyway, my buddy and I didn't decide to go anywhere special. We intentionally made our way to the local dive bar where we could presumably have a beer and catch up. Did I mention it was early? Like 8 p.m. - far from when the rowdies come out to play.
We slouched down in our chairs across from each other and poured a couple pints from a pitcher we bought. A couple of gulps in we started talking. Mostly nonsense. Chatted about girls we knew and worked with. Joked about how they'd look naked or what we thought they did in bed. Talked hockey for a bit, then another friend joined. He plunked down a pitcher as well and poured us another round. I could feel us all collectively starting to pick up a bit. The beer was tasting good and the bar was getting busier by a trickle.
I was pouring my third pint when my friend gave me a little look. Barely perceptible. More like a flash in his eyes than a direct, communicable look. I stroked my chin in response and raised an eyebrow. He raised one back. My phone was out on the table. I strummed my fingers across it. My friend nodded. I nodded. We both nodded in unison.
"Excuse me gents," I said, standing up. I picked up my phone, just about walked away, turned back, slammed my entire third pint, and headed for the door.
I wasn't gone long. Twenty minutes later I was back in my chair, the fourth pint already poured, and looking quite pleased with myself.
Everyone looked at me.
"The eagle has landed," I said.
We all shot out of our seats, out the door and into a nearby alley. We found a little nook a block away and jammed ourselves in there. The space had a little window with a broad ledge for a sill. I rested my phone in there and sprinkled out a little mound of coke which I busted up and chalked into a series of lines. Someone handed me a tightly rolled-up bill and a proceeded to honk back two of the lines, one for each nostril.
"Mama Mia," I said and made way for everyone else.
I strolled into the alley. Inhaled deep then exhaled slowly. The rush was coming up my spine and into my head - fast.
My buddy clapped me on the back.
"Feelin' good?" he asked.
I looked at him incredulously.
"Let's get back to the bar," I said, and we were off!
The only thing that changed when we got back was us. We were wired. Right out of it. Buzzing.
I wanted to talk.
I wanted more beer.
I wanted another line.
I wanted a girl.
I wanted my dick sucked.
I took a deep breath.
"I'll grab the next round," I said and went to the bar to line up.
I stood there, looking around, trying not to grind my jaw. I nodded to someone I knew, then again to someone else. While I was waiting the bar door opened and in walked one of my girlfriends' friends - one of the hot ones. Better lay low I thought, waiting for the initial coke rush to subside.
I got to the front of the line, finally, and was jammed up there with a bunch of other people waiting desperately to get served. I could feel someone to my right staring at me. I know that because they turned their whole body away from the bar and faced me. I didn't look, didn't engage, but I could feel their eyes on me. I could tell it was a female. Eventually, I got tired of not getting served and turned to the female stranger to see if I was imagining things - I wasn't. To my right was an obviously drunk slightly older woman just plain staring at me. She had the obvious look of having spent the last few hours drinking. She looked tired.
"Hi," I said, smiling politely.
She gave me a flat look, almost like she was unimpressed. "Wanna' make out?" she asked.
Interesting. I looked her up and down. Fuckable, I thought.
"Why not?" I said and whisked her outside.
We swiftly passed the growing lineup outside and ducked down a staircase that was between the bar and an adjacent apartment building. It went down to two doors lit with porch lights and decorated with fragrant potted plants. I had no idea this cozy little space existed.
I looked my catch up and down shamelessly, letting my hand slide down the middle of her back to her ass cheek. I didn't squeeze, just pulled her in, tilted her head and locked lips with her.
Now, I want to be clear about something. I don't know everything but I do know this - I'm a great kisser. I know the ebb and flow of kissing, the rhythm and syncing required. The give and take. When to press, when to release. The right balance between sensual and raunchy.
After I don't know how long I pulled away expertly, leaving her well ravished. Lipstick rubbed out, face flushed, breathing heavy.
"Wow," she said. "You're a good kisser."
I brought her back in for more, fondling her breast now. While we were synced up in our rhythm I unbuckled my pants and freed my hard dick. Flopped it right out and brought her body back in, angling her hips so her cunt rubbed up against my warm prick.
She was caught off guard by it, broke the kiss and looked down.
"Holy shit - you don't fuck around," she said, backing up to get a full view.
Another thing I know? My dick looks good. I've said it before - not small, not huge. Good size and good girth. The 36-C of dick sizes.
"Touch it," I dared her.
She immediately reached out and wrapped her fingers around my meaty shaft.
"Oh," she said approvingly, still staring at it, "Very nice," she smirked.
We continued making out while she tugged at my dick. She broke off the kiss but kept her face pressed against mine.
"I haven't touched another man's penis in 8 years," she breathed into my face, grunting faintly as she continued pumping me.
I leaned back but kept my hips thrust out so she could continue jerking me. My pre-cum was building up on the end of prick and made a wet, kissing sound with every pump of her fist. My mouth was slightly open and my eyes lidded, obviously enjoying her hard work.
"Where's your husband then?" I asked, not worried. I've been blown, jerked, sucked and fucked by plenty of bimbos in open relationships.
Her grip on my cock got a lot firmer, and she began tugging harder to the point of pain.
"My husband," she spat, "Fucking. Cheated. On. Me."
She was beating my dick hard at this point, hurting me, but I liked it. Her raw emotion was making my dick ache.
"You're arm getting tired?" I asked.
"Yeah," she panted.
"Good," I said.
"Uh-huh," she replied, smirking, pumping my prick up and down. "You gonna' use me tonight?" she asked, "take advantage of my fucked up emotional state and use me like a trashy whore?" Her tone was feral. She was speaking through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.
"I'm gonna' fuck you up," I promised.
She smiled wildly at that, with a glitter of crazy in her eye - a real live wire.
"We can't go to my place," she said, "my husband is home."
