In a thousand years she never thought she'd find someone like him. Tall and dark featured, smart and confident, he caught her eye quickly. Thin and scrawny was never to her liking in men, she needed someone substantial to wrap her arms around and cuddle with, and to feel truly held when he was holding her.
Marriage was suiting her, but not fulfilling her. Her husband was a partner to stave off boredom at best, to play golf with, to have dinner with when he was home, and for occasional sex. Conversation was kept to a minimum because they really had nothing in common. Yes, he was handsome, a good provider, and he amused her once in a while, but overall he was not a great match for her, and far from her true mate.
She could not be herself with him, and as of late it was becoming a weight that was harder and harder to bear. She thought about sex constantly. At 38 it seemed her hormones were in high gear and had no designs on slowing down any time soon. She dreamed of a man that would fulfill her wildest fantasies and make her feel all of the things she desired, even the dark desires that seemed to be foremost in her thoughts. The desperate need to be used and dominated, to be the girl-toy every man lusted after was becoming an urgent priority in her life. Her husband was simply not capable of using her the way she needed to be used.
When this new man walked into her life it was an instant charge, a jolt of electricity that could have lit up New York City for a week. Just the look of him was all she found sexy and erotic, and she felt the all too unfamiliar tingle in her belly and hardness of her nipples as she took him in. She simply wanted to lick him from head to toe, to hide away for days on end, never leaving the bed she would serve him in.
When he saw her, the look on his face went from nonchalant to that of piqued curiosity, and she knew without a doubt that he was feeling much of the same thing. The bulge that was now defining his zipper was a nice clue as well.
It wasn't often that she came to Isabel's for lunch, but today she had a taste for Mediterranean and had stopped at the bar for a cocktail. Her husband was in Europe, again, and so dining out alone had become a comfortable ritual.
She watched this man sit down at the opposite end of the bar. He was still staring at her, she still locked in on him, and then he smiled. God what a smile!! She felt a gush in her panties the likes of which she hadn't remembered having since college. She instinctively looked down, expecting the barstool to show signs of her wetness. Her nipples were still hard from her first glance, and by the looks of his gaze falling lower he now knew they were hard too. The pearl colored satin top she was wearing made them even more visible to anyone looking at her chest.
She crossed her legs and looked away, took a sip of her drink and pretended to peruse the menu. Her clit was swelling; she could feel it growing and moved a little on the stool to give herself a tiny wave a pleasure as her slick, wet folds rubbed together. With her husband hardly around, she'd become deft at the art of masturbation - she could almost make herself cum just walking down the street.
She looked up, her intention to flirt with him some more, but when she glanced over he was gone. Scanning the bar quickly she didn't see him, but instead felt a hand on her back.
"Don't move," she heard whispered into her left ear. "You are the loveliest woman I've ever seen. I want to stand here and just soak you in."
She could feel his head next to hers, nuzzling her hair for the shampoo scent, then her neck for the perfume she was wearing. Again she had to look down; the warm gush in her panties simply had to be showing thru her yellow skirt. She inhaled, felt his hand on the small of her back, and caught the magnificent scent of his cologne. It was perfectly worn; he had to be this close to her for her to smell it. It was intoxicating.
Slowly turning, she looked up into his face. She gazed into deep brown eyes with the most amazing expression. She saw love and lust, sweetness and devilishness, right and wrong. He had soft lines around his eyes and mouth; she put him in his mid 40's. His hair was cut short and in a current style. The goatee he was sporting was perfectly trimmed around his sensual lips.
"I ... forgive me," she whispered, "I can't stop looking at you."
"Good," he said in low velvety tone. He smiled coyly at her and said, "we're even."
They continued to simply stare at each other, without a moment of discomfort. He moved a little closer, and the bulge she saw earlier was now firmly resting against her hip. Fuck but he was hard!
Letting all inhibitions go and following only her libido, she leaned into him and said in a low voice, "I want you to take me here ... no, I NEED you to take me here. I don't care where, but on the premises and now."
Her lips grazed his ear as she said this, and made his cock ache for her. He wanted to take her on the bar, but decided the restroom would be the best bet for a modicum of privacy.
He never answered her verbally; he just took her hand and helped her from the barstool. He noticed her pale yellow pumps and was working his way up the back of her legs to her soft round ass when she reached back and touched his cock through his pants. He could feel his precut dripping and knew his boxer briefs were wet with it. Only steps now from total release, the lavatory was in sight.
Once inside, a passion so primitive, so carnal, simply guided his every move. He was made for this woman and knew it, knew what she wanted and how to touch her. He locked the door behind them and stepped toward her. Her shoulder length hair left plenty to grab, so he immersed his fingers in her blonde tresses and pulled her lips to his with that fistful of hair.
She moaned and sighed all at once; giving him back the tongue he was sharing with her. She ran her hands over his cock again, up over his ass and then up his chest. He took her hands from his chest, grabbed her wrists and put them behind her back.
"Tell me now what you want," he said a bit harshly. He already knew, but so much of the fun would be making her say it.
"I want you to fuck me," she sighed, "I want you to use me, claim me,make me yours."
He bent to kiss her again. How she loved the feel of his goatee on her face, the sweet scratchiness of it that she knew would bring her orgasm after orgasm once he had it pressed against her pussy.
As he brushed her face with his she heard, "I will fuck you my dear, and I will use you in ways you've never known."
She groaned with desire. "Fuck me now, pleaseeeee," she cried softly. She was on the verge of begging. Would he make her beg??
With that thought foremost in her mind, he answered her. "You want to be my whore? Then ask me again. You will keep asking until I decide to give it to you."
"Oh God, please fuck me," she hissed. "Fill my pussy with your hard cock; I want to make you cum."
"Beg some more, slut," he goaded her.
"Give it to me," she moaned, "Fucking make it hurt too. I want you as deep as you can go."
