My name’s Lisa, and I don’t usually pick up blokes in pubs; I’m not that kind of girl. But I’m sitting at the bar in the Winchester having a drink when I see you walk in. You look pretty tired and ready for a drink. I often drink in here, but I’ve not seen you before. I’d remember if I had; even when you’re not at your best, you’re pretty good looking.
You look as if you’ve just finished work; suit and tie, the usual businessman thing. I’m wearing a white blouse, with a black skirt that is just the right length to show off my legs without making me look like a tart. I think I look pretty good in it. OK, so I do have on a rather sexy black lacy bra, which I brought the other day and which is clearly visible through my blouse, but I rather like it. It makes me feel sexy, and what’s wrong with that?
You lean on the bar, and order a pint of bitter. Another point in your favour. Unlike most of my friends, I’m a real ale girl myself. Much better than all those crappy alcopops and other girly drinks. And most lager is just fizzy piss. Give me a pint of real ale any day. And don’t start thinking that makes me some sort of fat ugly lesbian. I work out; I keep fit; and most blokes wouldn’t roll over me to get to Pamela Anderson. I’ve got a good pair of tits, and I’m not ashamed of them. They’re all my own, too, nothing artificial about them. Like the beer really. Real ale, real tits. But let’s not get carried away here.
You sit up at the bar and sip at your pint. You seem more relaxed. I catch your eye and smile.
“You look as if you needed that” I say.
“You can say that again” you reply. “I’ve just spent all day being bored to death in useless meetings. But a good pint solves most things. And I must say this is a good pint”
“It’s the best you’ll get around here,” I say. “Have you been here before?”
And that’s how it begins: you explain that no, you’ve not been here before; you’ve had to come to this town for a meeting; you’re staying overnight in a hotel before another meeting tomorrow, then back home to Yorkshire. The hotel is okay, but like most big city hotels the bar is crap, so you came here for a pint or two before going back for dinner and watching TV in your room for the rest of the evening.
I reckon we can do better than that. You’re obviously interested in me; in fact you can’t keep your eyes off my tits. But you’re discreet about it; you don’t try to get fresh with me; you buy me a drink and we talk about our favourite beers. You seem like a genuine sort of guy.
So instead of you going back to your hotel you stay here; we have a meal in the pub; we have a few laughs; we swap life-stories. I could give you the full works, but let’s face it, if you’re reading this you don’t want all that “getting to know you” crap. You just want to cut to the fucking.
So let’s just say we end up walking back to your hotel together. We’re both slightly drunk, but more than sober enough to know what we’re doing. And I come up to your room “for a coffee”.
Like the gentleman you are, you do actually make the coffee before kissing me. I’m sitting in the standard hotel armchair, and as you bend over to put the coffees on the table, our eyes meet; then our lips. It feels good. We both know what’s coming, and that’s nice. You put your arms around me and suddenly the kissing gets serious and we’re practically eating each other.
We eventually pull apart, just to have a chance to breathe. I run my hand lightly over your groin; your cock is already very hard, and you give a small intake of breath as my hand traces the outline of your erection through your trousers. Very nice.
You don’t need to feel embarrassed about looking at my tits any more. You unbutton the top button of my white blouse. You can see the tops of my creamy tits, and you bend over and just lick the smooth flesh, which gives slightly under the pressure of your tongue. Oh, that feels nice; it makes me all tingly inside.
You undo the other buttons; I just let you get on with it, enjoying the anticipation of what is coming next. I slip the blouse off my shoulders, letting it drop onto the floor. My black flimsy bra pushes my large breasts upwards and together, enhancing an already attractive cleavage. Now you can see my hard nipples through the lacy holes, with their dark aureole. You put your hands behind my back, ready to unclip it and release my tits, but I stop you.
“Not just yet” I smile. “I want to feel your cock inside it first”
For a moment you don’t quite understand. I teasingly slip out of your arms; quickly unzip my skirt and kick it off, then roll my tights down my legs, revealing a pair of black lacy panties that match my bra. The crotch of my panties are already damp with my sex juices. I jump onto the bed; kneel down, and gesture to you to join me.
“Kneel down here” I say. “And get your clothes off. I want to see you naked”.
You do as you are asked, and I grin as I see your erection sticking out stiff and proud. I grab hold of your stiff cock with one hand, and with the other pull the bottom edge of my bra cup away from my beautiful boob. Then, pulling you towards me, I slip your cock underneath, so it nestles inside the cup next to my breast, the purple knob rubbing against the nipple.
I look down and feel oh so hot at the deliciously erotic sight of your cock inside my bra, its thick bulge distorting the shape of the bra in such a surprisingly sexy way.
I begin to massage your cock inside my bra, rubbing the knob against my nipple. You start to moan; the double sensation of the warm smooth flesh of my tit on the underneath of your cock, combined with the tight grip of the lacy bra, is incredibly arousing, and your cock is very hard indeed. I press the tip of your knob against my nipple, which is now very erect as well. The hole in the end opens and presses against my hard nubbin of flesh. I begin to rub harder at your cock.
“I’d like you to cum inside my bra” I say. “Will you do that for me? I want to feel your hot cum all over my tit”.
You nod your agreement; judging by the speed of your breathing, you are really turned on; you don’t look as if you’ll be able to hold back your ejaculation much longer.
I put my other hand down the front of my panties, and slip two fingers between my pussy lips into my slit. Jesus, I’m so wet. I can feel the sticky juices running out over my hand as I masturbate, soaking into my panties. Mmm, this feels so good.
Suddenly the moment comes that I have been waiting for, as I rub your cock harder and faster. I feel the pulse of your semen surging up your cock, and squeeze it hard against my tit. The first shot of hot spunk explodes from the end of your cock, some of it splattering against my rosy nipple, the rest bursting out through the lacy material of my bra, showering all over my chin and throat. You come again and again, flying gobbets of your spunk coating my bra and upper part of my body. As the last blobs seeps out, I slip your cock out from inside my bra. The cup is oozing with creamy liquid, and streams of it are still running down my chin and shoulders. I undo my bra and rub the cum-coated cup over my face, breathing in the scent of your spunk.
I try to get my breathing back to a normal level. The sight of me kneeling there, your spunk smeared all over me, must look pretty hot; your cock has barely lost its stiffness.
You lie down next to me and take me in your arms. My gooey boobs rub against your chest, making you sticky too. You gaze at me, the cum still running down onto my tits. Your cock rubs against my thigh, some last drops of semen making a moist trail.
“Jesus, Lisa, where did you learn to do that?” you ask.
“I’ve never done it before” I admit. “But it’s always been one of my fantasies. I think it was buying this sexy bra, I knew my breasts showed through the material, and I got to thinking what it would look like to have a cock in there as well. And I just thought you looked as if you’d enjoy it as well.”
“And you were right” you say. “But there are other places to put a cock, you know”.
“I do” I say. “I’m ready if you are”.
I lie back on the bed, my legs together so you can take hold of my panties and pull them down over my thighs. Coyly, I keep my legs together so that all you can see is my hairy bush. Gently, you get hold of my knees and part my legs. The scent of my hot pussy is musky and primal, designed to arouse the male of the species. You certainly seem to like it. You run your hands up the insides of my thighs, lingering over the sensitive skin.
Then you place your head between my legs and nuzzle your tongue into my bush, parting my lips and licking at their sticky juices. I don’t like to shave my pussy too much; just a gentle trim now and then so I can wear a bikini without it looking as if a troop of spiders are trying to escape from my pants. I like to look like a woman, down below as well as up top, if you get my meaning, and I reckon men like to have something to bury their faces in.
You really know how to lick a woman out, alternating between thrusting your tongue into my pink interior and sucking on my clitoris. I’ve got a very prominent clit; even the least experienced of pussy-lickers can get their tongues around it, and you’re certainly not one of those. Some men seem to have no idea how sensitive a clitoris can be, and maul away at it like a squirrel at a walnut. I don’t mind a bit of rough play around my nipples; they can take it; but my clit is a tender bud that needs a bit of loving. I love the way you use your lips to suck at it gently, just enough to stimulate the nerve endings and send wave after wave of pleasure coursing through my body. Wow. I’ve always wished I was one of those circus performers who can stick their heads between their legs – then I could suck myself out. But honestly this is the real thing.
Your tongue tickles around the entrance to my vagina, and I’m getting really turned on. I think I’m going to come. I let you know how much I’m enjoying it, can’t hold back my gasps of pleasure; I’m writhing about on the bed so much that you have trouble keeping your tongue up inside my slit.
“Oh yes, that’s so good, please lick my cunt…oh yes…oh yes…suck my clit again…do it again…oh please…oh Christ I’m coming…I’m coming…” I’m afraid I do talk dirty when I get aroused – but men seem to like that too.
And I do come, with a lot of writhing and crying out. As my orgasm subsides, you raise your head. Your face is wet with my sticky juices.
“Mmm, you taste really good” you say, licking your lips.
You move to lie next to me and we kiss again; I can taste my own juices on your mouth. I can feel your erection nudging against my thigh, and my vagina is aching to feel it inside me.
I take hold of your hot, hard penis; oh, it does feel good.
“Take me now, I want you inside me” I whisper.
I lie facing you, and bend my knee, raising my left leg to make it easier for you to enter me. Gently you ease your penis into my bush and find the entrance to my sex. It’s very wet of course, so you don’t have any difficulty as the thick tip parts my pussy lips and I feel your knob penetrate me for the first time. I let out an “OOOO” of pleasure, as the whole of your erection slides up inside me, with a delicious squishy sound. You start to fuck me gently, pulling almost all the way out each time, so I feel my vagina contracting and stretching with every thrust. God, that feels good. I start to meet your thrusts with my own. Between us, we start to gather speed.
You roll over on your back, so I am on top. My breasts are dangling in front of your face, and you grab one of them and squeeze hard, pinching the nipple with your fingers. I gasp at the sensation, but it’s a gasp of pleasure rather than pain. Now I’m bouncing up and down on your penis, and you support my thighs to help as you thrust in and out. You obviously enjoy being able to see your erection pumping in and out, in and out.
I rub at my clit with my left hand, then grasp your balls. They’re wet where my juices have gushed out over your penis. You let out a cry as I gently massage your balls, taking care not to squeeze them too hard, just enough to add to your pleasure, feeling the intense hardness of your cock thrusting in and out. You’re pumping harder now, your penis squelching faster and faster in and out of my slit.
“Oh yes, yes, fuck me harder” I gasp. “Fuck my cunt, fuck me deep, oh yes, that’s it!”
I can feel myself approaching a second orgasm, and I scream out, my body going into an intense convulsion of pure sexual pleasure as I come. I contract my vagina tightly around your penis: this is clearly too much for you, and you give one final thrust before you come yourself, your sperm gushing out of your cock, splashing deep into me again and again. I fall onto your chest and your cock slips out, so the last few spurts of semen splash over my buttocks, already damp with perspiration.
We lie together, both still trembling slightly, holding each other close as we both come down from our orgasms, your cock slowly losing its stiffness as it rests against my thigh, my breasts squeezed close against your chests. I can feel your cum inside my cunt, the first few dribbles running out over my pubic hair. We kiss again, and I feel very close to you. Why can’t all sex be that good?
I wonder for a moment if I should leave, but you carry on holding me tight, pulling the bedclothes over us. So I stay. We drift off to sleep together. In the morning, I wake first, and take your cock into my mouth so that you wake to the sensation of my tongue licking it to erection again. We fuck again, slowly and sensuously, then shower together, washing the combination of sweat and sexual juices off our bodies. I hide in the bathroom while you order breakfast in your room; I’m sure the waitress who brings it must realise what is going on, by the state of the bed if nothing else, not to mention the intense scent of sexual juices.
I’m never quite sure how to deal with these morning-after-sex occasions. Sometimes both of you feel rather embarrassed by memories of what you got up to the night before, but that’s not the case this time. The prime feeling is one of frustration that we can’t do it all again - but you have your meeting to go to, and I have things to do too. The worst thing is that you then have to leave completely, back to Yorkshire. But somehow I think this could be a beginning rather than an end. We arrange to meet again in the Winchester for lunch before you go back: I’d really like to see you again, and somehow I think I probably will.
