Pure, filthy, pleasure

Standing at the bar, almost absorbed in her own thoughts, but not quite, she saw him. Thick black frames enhancing the contours of his defined cheek bones. Those eyes, piercing chocolate brown, like deep pools of masculinity; drawing me in. Every strand of his jet black hair perfectly placed. I knew I couldn't leave that bar without having him. Surrounded my heaving bodies, the thoughts were racing though my mind, I need him. Crossing the hoards of people I make my way over, every step I take, closer to those eyes, drawing me closer. I freeze. He's gazing into my eyes; a smile parts those luscious lips. Regaining my posture I stare into his eyes, then walk straight past. I feel the burning sensation of him watching me, and I rejoin my friends.

Two amaretto's later and a shadow emerges at the table, a waitress, with a cosmopolitan and a bar mat, with Bus station 23.15 scribbled on it. The writing was curvaceous, the opposite of his chiselled, good looks.

Its 22.55, should I go? What if he is like the stalkers you read about in HEAT, the terror stories about rape, without feeling any pity for the girls who fall for their charms and good looks, wondering why they went in the first place? Unbeknown to my mind, I set off.

My heart is racing with anticipation, every beat sending heavy throbs to my increasingly sopping sex; my rock solid nipples guiding my way towards to dimly lit bus station. The wind is cool against my flushed skin, soothing like the finger tips of a thousand men; twisting through my hair, driving me wild. Every sensation of the situation sending shivers through my spine. There, standing in front of me, he is. Just like two magnets we embrace each other. His eyes fixed to mine, those few precious seconds before our lips touch, I'm on fire.

His withdraws and takes my hand, whispering "Come with me". Against my better judgement I oblige. Where is he taking me? Out of nowhere a black car pulls up, and he opens the door, not a word is spoken. Self consciously aware of my pulsating pussy, leaking juices through my tiny lace thong, and soon to be rushing down my pins, I hook my skirt up, finding console on the cool leather. "Where are you taking me?" I mutter, the words barely passing my lips. "You will see my lovely, My name is Jose", "Rebecca" I retort. His hand flirts with my throbbing sex. No other words were spoken.

Three orgasms later, we arrive at what seems to be flashy restaurant, with black glass and red lighting. I'm yearning for him, every inch of him. Entering my abyss and filling me completely whilst I scream in ecstasy. But he's so cool, he seems un-phased by the situation. Inside we leave our coats and make our way over the bar. To my intrigue he has ordered champagne, and we toast to "Experiences". Lost in thought and myself, I am shocked to look around and see a rather attractive looking male, naked, writhing in what looks like an intense explosion, upon closer inspection there are two women serenading his member with their tongues.

We take a seat, "Rebecca, have you ever seen a place like this before?", I take a second to reflect, and reply," Only in my fantasies". Jose seems pleased with this response, grasps my hand and smoothes it over his rising bulge, I mould it in my hand like modelling clay, feeling it growing solid beneath my touch. "Touch yourself, I know you want to. You have been dying to do it since you left the bar." I obediently react, rubbing my clit softly whilst cradling my breasts. It doesn't take long before I am reaching a silent climax. By this point Jose has revealed in toned body, the contours of his body leading down to a monstrous cock. I want it.

Before I know what is going on, he bends me over the chair, fondling my buttocks, my pussy on full view, the thought of eyes watching me sends to close the edge. His beast penetrates me, I draw breath, I envelope him inside me, tugging at him whilst he enters me, harder, faster, then I feel another sensation, and to my shock, I see a blonde man, wearing leather, caressing my clit as Jose is fucking me, his tongue is now massaging me, I cannot contain it any more. I scream in pure, filthy, pleasure.