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  • I Followed You There...

I Followed You There...

12

I followed you there, to the bar down near the strip mall. I knew you'd be there. I quietly sat at a table in the dark, careful not to do anything to catch your eye or distract you from your "quest." I knew what you were after – your body betrayed your intentions with every word and every action you took to get out the door before you left home. Your sweater was just a little too tight – you flaunt your tits at every opportunity; you relish the leers from the men where you volunteer, the stares from the hapless men in line at the supermarket turn you on, and the once-overs (and sometimes twice-overs) from the men you talk to make you wet. I know because I've sampled that wetness on occasion when I've come home and you are eager for some action. I admit it, I love those days. Your taste is exquisite, a sampling of the finest wine... but I digress.

Your short black skirt was begging to be scrunched up to provide everyone a view of your smooth, rainbow striped panties. When you leaned against the bar, the garters holding your stockings up showed, posing the question of whether or not you even had panties on. From where I sat, I watched as heads turned when you leaned over to get your drink (which the bartended had conveniently placed just out of reach). As you sipped your beverage, I watched your eyes and your body language as I tried to discover who your intended target of the night would be. The older gentleman with graying hair and a decidedly Sean Connery-esque appeal? Or the middle-aged business man who just seemed to be trying to get away from his sexless shrew of a wife for a night? But, no, your taste generally ran towards the younger, leaner, hungrier men (boys?) who came to the bar looking for some easy action. Because the bar was so close to post, they were almost assuredly military men, which meant they were in decent shape and their testosterone levels were high – they exuded sex, and you liked to lick it off of them.

Luckily for you, you didn't even have to really work at it. They flocked to you – your presence, your confidence, your poise, and your body drew them to you like bees to honey. Your honey is irresistible, and I almost feel bad for them – they really don't have much of a chance once you set your sights. The little smirk you get when you choose your target is always a dead giveaway and when I saw what you were after, I couldn't help but chuckle a little to myself. Tonight you weren't just going for the quick, easy fuck; you had something more devious in mind. Your entrée may have been a small chicken salad, but for desert you wanted one who was already taken.

I watched as you assessed him. He wasn't married. That was obvious by the lack of ring and by the way he and the girl he was with subtly argued and bickered back and forth. It was clear that she was pissed at him, and he was trying to be defiant and manly, but it was obvious that he would cave in and grovel soon enough. He was tall and lanky, but still meaty enough for a good ride – he wasn't skin and bones. I watched you watch him when he stood up and made his way across the bar, taking the long walk towards the restroom. I was always fascinated with how quickly you were able to get what you wanted when you wanted it. Men, women, boys and girls, you held power over them all. Sometimes you would take one of each, and they never denied you. I envy the power of your raw sex that makes them weak-kneed in your presence.

When the bathroom door opened, signaling his imminent return, I watched you make your move. As cunning as a fox, you stepped backwards and into his direct path back to his table - and his girlfriend. When he got close, all it took was your standing up in his eye-line to stop him in his tracks. I watched as you held your tongue until he finished his once- (and then twice-) over as he looked you up and down, taking in your long, trim legs that playfully disappeared up your tight black skirt, promising untold and mysterious pleasures at their crux. His eyes roamed over your hourglass body, taking in the curve of your hips and then faltering for a moment as they were drawn to rest on your ample bosom, your cleavage creamy and smooth under the dim bar lighting. I don't know what you so softly said to him in that brief second, but whatever it was, he was diverted from the path back to his girlfriend and towards the bar where I watched him hail the bartender. I almost felt bad for the poor boy, his night was on the path to both bliss and sorrow, all at the same time. It was surely a night he would remember.

As you worked your magic on him, I turned my attention back to the girlfriend your prey had so easily been distracted from. She was young as well and trim. She didn't have a clear line of sight to the bathroom from her table, and it was obvious that she was becoming impatient with how long her boyfriend was taking in returning. Her legs were crossed and she tapped her fingers on the table when she wasn't sipping her drink. The whole of her body language said, "Stay the fuck away from me." She glared daggers around the room at no one in particular and the incessant tapping of her nails on her glass was audible even from across the room and over the din of the other patrons.

You had fully captured the attention of your prey and were sending all the signs he wanted to see. The short brush of his shoulder, "to dust something off;" leaning in close when he talked because it was loud; moving close to whisper in his ear, ostensibly because you didn't want to talk loud, but really so he could feel your warm breath in his ear and against his neck; the cute giggles, the eye contact and the sultry smiles – you had them all going and it was only a matter of

time before he collapsed and you "gave into him" and let him take you home.

I waited until I was sure you had your new toy firmly in your grasp before deciding how to approach her. Once his hand was on your back (and I knew that inside he was dying to just let it slide down and caress your ass), I decided it was time. I picked up my drink and walked to her table. On the way, I chanced a glance your direction and watched him escort you towards the exit. You flipped your hair back and looked around quickly – I thought I caught a sly glint in your eye and there was no mistaking your victorious smile – but was it directed at me? Did you see me? Or was it just happenstance that I caught those looks? No matter. The gears were in motion and the night was still young.

I sat down at her table and began to make small talk. Could I buy her a drink? Was she here alone? I asked if she was ok, mentioning that she looked a little distressed or angry, I couldn't tell which. She was quick to tell me she was here with her fiancé who had gone to the restroom and would be back any second. I continued to make polite chit-chat (ostensibly until her fiancé returned), and when he hadn't come back after another minute or so, I volunteered to "go check on him" and see if he was ok. She said, ok sure, and I walked slowly back to the bathroom where I relieved myself and came back out. When I returned to her table, I asked her what her fiancé was wearing, but told her I hadn't seen anyone in the bathroom. At that revelation, her face took on a surprised, angry posture and she stood up quickly and went to the bar.

I followed her there, in order to appear surprised and concerned about his disappearance, but was just waiting for the inevitable. She asked the bartender about her fiancé and described what he was wearing. The look on her face when the bartender immediately said, "Yeah! I remember that guy, he left just a few minutes ago! Good tipper!", and then the look of recognition dawned on his face when he realized what happened AFTER that tip. "Anyway, yeah, I saw him, he just walked out about five or ten minutes ago." She wasn't done with the questions – "Where did he go? Why did he leave? Did he say anything before he left? Was he sick?" – and when the answers were not forthcoming, her face turned flush and the ice in her voice chilled the air, "Was he alone?" The question hung in the air before the bartender softly shook his head, "No."

As she stormed out, I followed, asking if she was ok – feigning concern, interest and surprise – and when we made it outside into the brisk night air, I watched with quiet amusement as she looked around, thinking he would just be standing around. The sidewalk was empty. There was a nip in the air and she was shivering. When she pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open, the tension in the air was palpable. I watched her hit the speed dial and hold the phone up to her ear - I heard the ring, ring - ring, ring before a man's voice picked up.

"Hello?"

"Don't you "hello" me, asshole! Where the fuck are you?" The venom in her voice was clear and the icy tone seemed to chill the air even further.

"Ummmm, who is this?" he asked, his discomfort came through the phone, loud and clear. In the background, I could hear the rush of air, the radio playing, and - maybe, just maybe - I heard a soft giggle that I recognized.

"Don't fuck with me, Jeremy, you know exactly who this is! Where are you? You can't just walk out of the bar with some slut..." I continued to listen as Jeremy got his ass handed to him while he stammered, looking for words, but she clearly left him speechless. Then, unexpectedly, she suddenly stopped talking. From the phone, I heard your voice and smiled.

"Just give me that phone, Jeremy, you don't need her talking to you like that... yeah, I got it, I'll just turn it off..." ... BEEP .... and I expected the phone to go dead, instead it kept on transmitting ...

"Yeah, there we go, no more of THAT!" ... your voice was further away, but the wind-noise was nearly gone ... "That's it, just sit back and relax. Oh, what's this? That feels so good, is that for ME? No, no... no talking, just sit back and enjoy the ride. Mmm, it seems to be getting bigger... you don't mind do you? There we go, pesky button..."

The sound of a zipper was barely audible, but very recognizable.

"Ah! There it is, very nice, and so big! Yeah, I like that, that's going to be gooood... Does that feel good? ..".

His moan seemed to be positive and seemed to keep going...

"Yeah, there it is. Its so hot, and so very big. Is that all for me? Oh, yes... I can't wait for it..."

On my end of the phone, the conversation had gotten me all warmed up, but the look on her face was utter-shock, but she couldn't seem to hang the phone up.

Finally, the sounds coming from the phone got quiet except for the moans and unmistakable sounds of sloppy kissing. Shortly after, a whisper, "Oh that's nice... let's take this inside..." followed by the sound of two car doors opening and closing, some giggles and indecipherable talking before silence on the line.

Slowly, she closed the phone and looked at it, almost uncomprehendingly. Sensing a moment of weakness, I put my arm around her and turned her back towards the bar, back inside where it was warm and she could recover.

Inside, I guided her back to her table and bought her another drink. She started in with what sounded like her life story about bad boyfriends, bad parents, blah blah blah. I just sat and listened – and kept the drinks coming. At some point, she was crying and I reached out and touched her hand - she seemed comforted by the touch. I knew I had her, she would be putty. A few drinks later she had had enough, or was done with her stories - I'm not sure which. I paid the tab and walked her to the door,

Once outside, I walked her to her car. She was very clearly not safe to drive, and when she took her keys out of her pocket, I easily took them from her, shaking my head "no." I took her around the passenger side of her little car and let her in. Then I let myself into the driver's seat and fired up her little junker. I made sure to roll the windows down to help sober her up a little - I didn't want her completely unconscious.

She didn't seem to care much where we were going, and I was glad our destination wasn't far away. While we drove, I put my hand on her knee and slowly stroked her leg back and forth, moving further up her leg with each rotation. When I reached the hem of her skirt, I gently pushed it up further with each pass. She seemed be enjoying the attention and as we approached our destination, she began to gently squeeze her tit and circled her nipple with her palm, rolling it in her fingers. By the time we pulled into the driveway, she had one tit out of her top, squeezing it and my fingers were stroking her bare pussy through her cotton panties. The dampness of her panties was evidence of her desire, and my own evidence was perking up as well.

I stopped the car behind your cute Wrangler, killed the engine and leaned over to engage in a deep kiss with my victim - whose name I still didn't know (or care about). I pulled her close, our bodies pressing together over the stick, her tits pressed against my chest. I let my hands wander over her body, and hers wandered over mine. I reached my hand up into her hair, grabbed deeply into it and forcefully yanked her head back while I leaned in and kissed her neck, enticing a moan from her lips.

After a few seconds of passionate kissing, I broke off the session and quickly opened my door - leaving her wet and wanting more. Her door flew open and slammed shut. The noise was almost deafening in the silence of the neighborhood. She hurried up to the front door and waited while I came up and turned the knob, entered inside the house and quietly shut the door behind us.

I knew she was already pretty liquored up, but I also knew she would have to be to take what she had coming to her. In the kitchen, we continued what we started in the car and in between the gropes, moans and grinds, I managed to pour up another two shots of the hard stuff for her. By now, she was all smiles and giggles and was oozing desire. In her mind, I knew she was thinking about how much she would be getting even with her cheating boyfriend. She had no idea how "even" she would be getting - and very soon.

I grabbed her by her arms, pinning them to her sides and turned her around, pushing her over the kitchen breakfast bar and pushed up hard against her ass. With one hand, I pressed her down into the cold granite counter top and with the other I slapped her ass - hard. When she first yelped, I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Shhhhh, no noises," and then smacked her ass with force. She whimpered quietly, but didn't yelp again.

I raised her skirt up, pushing it up her back, exposing her lace-frilled black panties. Reaching up between her legs, it was impossible to not notice how wet she was. I slapped her pussy through her panties a few time in rapid succession. Her moans were growing louder and I knew it was almost time... almost. I pressed her harder into the counter top and slid her panties to the side, exposing her shaved pussy to my probing finger. I slipped two fingers deep inside her and made sure to brush her clit with another. As I fucked my fingers in and out of her wet, tight pussy, I whispered some of the torturous pleasures that awaited her. When her knees first buckled and I had to hold her tighter against the table to keep her from collapsing to the floor, I knew it was time.

Without warning, I withdrew my fingers from her sopping pink pussy (eliciting another moan - this one of desperation) and stuck them in her mouth, making her clear her juices off of me. I replaced her panties and her skirt, smoothing it back down in place. I reached up into her hair and grabbed tightly, pulling her head back. While still holding her in place with my body, my hard cock straining against my jeans and rubbing against her ass through our clothes, I slipped a cloth from my pocket and tied it around her head, covering her eyes.

I picked her up off the table back to a standing position and turned her around, facing me. She started to say something, "What's with the blindf..." I didn't let her finish. The hard slap to her face was clearly stunning. I followed the slap with a hard kisses, thrusting my tongue between her lips, preventing any further questioning. When I pulled free, I strictly instructed her, "No talking."

I took her by the hand and led her down the hall to the bedroom. The door was mostly closed, but was not latched. Silently, I pushed it open and led her inside. The room was dimly lit by a lone lamp on the nightstand. What I saw should have been surprising, but it was exactly what I had anticipated – even hoped for.

There you were, laid out on the bed. Your skirt was pushed up above your hips, exposing your perfect pink pussy. Your luscious tits were freed of their confines and were been fondled and squeezed by two hands that weren't yours. I saw your face tense a bit as he pinched a nipple, but I think it was more pleasure than pain. You were laid on your back crosswise over the bed, your legs, bent at the knees, dangling off the side of the bed closest to me. On the opposite side of the bed stood the man who was groping your silken globes. He was blindfolded as well, and hadn't heard me walk in.

Your hands were wrapped around his legs pulling him into you – literally. His cock was plunging deep into your mouth. You head was off the side of the bed and you were pulling him into you, his dick driving deep into your throat. His low moans gave away his obvious pleasure – a testament to your talent. I suspect you felt my presence in the room, watching you because I caught your glance up at me between strokes of his cock – you couldn't grin with your mouth stuff as it was, but I saw it in your eyes. You were perfect. You were exactly as I thought you would be, hoped you would - how we had planned you would be.

I guided my girl over between your legs and turned her around, facing you, directly in front of you. With one hand over her mouth, I pushed her down to her knees. I unlooped a length of rope from the bedpost and securely fastened her hands behind her back. I took a firm hold of her hair with one hand and stifled her yelp with the other as I leaned her forward towards the bed. When her tits pressed against the bed, she was just about in the perfect position. I leaned down close to her head, gently parting her hair to get in close to her ear. I whispered, "Now, just open your mouth, stick out your tongue, and get to work."

I pushed her head forward until her tongue first touched and then parted the lips of your pussy. She recoiled at first, but when I pushed her head forward more, burying her mouth and nose into you, she stopped resisting and I released the pressure on her head, allowing her to work in a more comfortable environment. When I let go of her hair, she didn't have much choice except to stay in the position she was in or to fall to the ground because of how she was leaned over – and probably because she was still mostly drunk. When your hips started to squirm and I could hear your moans around his dick, I knew she was doing her job.

I slowly climbed up on the bed and just took you in for a moment. On one side, a stranger plowed his dick into your mouth, back and forth as you pulled him close and let him fall back and on the other, a bitch sucking and licking your pussy – and doing a decent job from the sound of it. I reached over and caressed your skin. Running my fingers over your tummy and across your body I drew circles and designs on you, raising goose bumps with my touch. When you looked over, I gave you a motion and you moved his hands from your breasts and placed them on his hips – where he kept them without question.

I started massaging your tits myself, flicking a pink-eraser nipple with my finger before moving close and taking it deep in my mouth, running my tongue over and around it. When I nibbled it gently with my teeth, your back tensed and settled. I released your tender nipple from my teeth and squeezed it gently between my fingers. I squeezed it tighter and looser, alternating pressure points and rolling it between my fingers. While I squeezed and twisted one nipple, I took the other tit in my mouth and forced it deep by grabbing it low with my other hand. You flinched when I released the nipple from between my fingers and quickly slapped the tit from the side. The smacking sound was almost startling in the quiet room. The only sounds left after the smack stopped resonating was the slurp and smack of a cock being sucked and your cunt being licked.

12
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