The bar was filling out, the buzz of chat and laughter grew louder by the moment and Olivia was still sat by herself, checking her phone in the hope of a message assuring her she hadn’t been stood up, but her notifications remained empty. Embarrassment prickled over her body. She’d brought a new dress for this at her friend’s insistence she start ‘putting herself out there’, but this was proof that the whole thing was a waste of her time and effort.
She collected her bag and made a move to stand up, only to nearly bump into a man holding two drinks.
“Sorry,” she said. The evening couldn’t get any worse; now she was making a fool of herself in front of the most handsome man she’d ever seen. A mop of sandy hair, warm eyes, laugh lines. Probably far too old for her.
“You’re not leaving, are you? I got you this,” he said, holding out one of the glasses of wine. “You didn’t look as though you were having a very good time.”
Olivia was glad the low lighting might hide the flush creeping across her face.
“If you’d like some company, of course, for all I know you like coming to bars and being left alone,” he said, flashing a smile that did nothing to help the way Olivia’s heart rate was picking up.
“I was meant to be meeting someone,” she said, managing to find her voice again. “But I guess he’s not coming.”
“Atrocious behaviour,” the man said, placing the drinks on the table. Olivia sat back down, as though he’d cast some spell over her. “I’m Henry,” he offered.
“Olivia,” she replied, wishing she could be more charismatic. Men were always looking at her, she knew that. She was slight with cascading dark curls and big eyes. Of course men looked, but it would take only a few short minutes for her shyness to ruin any chance of having a good interaction.
“Lovely name,” he said. Olivia took a sip of her wine, careful not to drink it too quickly like she wanted to, to take the edge off. “And what do you do, Olivia?”
She loved the way it sounded in his mouth, loved the way he was looking at her like she was the only person in the room.
“I work at a flower shop,” she said. “And I take art classes in the evening; that’s what I really want to do. But I like the flowers as well.”
He smiled again, and this time she noticed how his eyes creased around the edges.
“That sounds much more interesting than what I do,” he said, and expertly led the conversation explaining his job in marketing which did sound terribly dull, and asking Olivia about her work and her art, seeming genuinely interested as she told him about spending time in galleries as a teenager staring at the greats, but it taking a long time to believe she could do it herself.
They finished their wine, and Henry ordered a bottle for them after Olivia assured him she didn’t have anywhere else to be. By the time they were halfway through that, her cheeks were beginning to feel hot and the alcohol was definitely going to her head, because when Henry suggested they dance, she took his hand and followed him into the mass of writhing bodies without a second thought.
He pulled her into him, she barely came up to his chin and he smelt like expensive cologne. They swayed a little to the music, even though it was the wrong kind of music for that, with a quick beat and thrumming base line.
“I’m afraid I can’t actually dance,” Henry said, lips close to her ear.
Olivia laughed. “That’s okay, me neither,” she said and they continued moving together, the closeness setting Olivia’s body on fire as desire began to pool between her legs, overly aware of his hands on her waist and the way his shirt fit snugly on his body.
“I only came in for a drink after work,” he said after a while. “But I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d like to come home with me?”
She nodded.
“You’re sure?” he said. She liked the little frown lines that appeared between his eyebrows. Determined not to let nerves get the better of her she leant up and kissed him. His arms tightened around her, pressing her body right into his. It was brief and gentle, but she wanted to do it again and again and again.
“Well okay then,” Henry murmured, barely moving his mouth from hers.
It wasn’t long until they were in an Uber, crossing London in the dark although the city was still as awake as Olivia was. The electricity between her and Henry was palpable. Every time she looked across at him she found him already looking at her so they’d both laugh and look away.
By the time they pulled up outside his building, she was a mess again. She didn't do things like this, and nothing good could come of it. And what if he was a nutter? How stupid could she be? But then he held his hand out to her as she got out of the car, and her thoughts did a quick U-turn. Why couldn't she be the kind of person who did this? It was just one night, one hot stranger. How bad could it be?
The moment they were in the lift they were on each other, like magnets that had been trying to keep their distance but now couldn’t resist the pull. It was everything the kiss in the bar hadn't been, immediately hot and heavy. Henry crowded her against the wall with her face in his hands. She yielded to him, opening her mouth when he tested her with his tongue, leaning in for more but couldn't get enough.
The bell dinged, signalling their floor and breaking them out of each other's gravity long enough for Henry to unlock his door and get her inside.
“You're okay with this?” he asked her, cradling her face again. “I'm nearly fifty you know, if you'd rather not-”
“I'm twenty-four, it's fine,” she said, almost laughing at her own impatience. What would a girl who was used to these situations do? The ache for him between her legs was almost unbearable, only made worse by the way he was looking at her. She moved in close to him again, and looked up through her lashes.
“I'm really wet,” she told him, and could feel the air from his slow breath out. She wondered if his heart was racing as much as hers was.
He slipped a hand underneath her dress and ran his fingers along her panties. She wasn't just wet; she was soaked and the gentle pressure of his fingers was making her knees weak.
“Christ,” he muttered. “Then I should do something about that, shouldn't I, princess?”
She didn't get a good look at his apartment as he kissed her again, and began steering her through to the bedroom. It was spacious, more so because it didn't look very lived in, but there was no time to think about that while Henry was growing hard against her, and when he pushed her down on the bed the line of his erection was obvious in his trousers. Olivia needed him inside her.
She sat up to undo his belt for him, but he pushed her hand away.
“Don't worry about me; lie back,” he said. She wanted to insist, because men she'd been with before had always seemed in a rush to get to the point, but she did as she was told. “Good girl,” Henry said, smiling as though he knew the effect the words would have on her. She wondered if she could come without even being touched.
That didn't happen though, because as soon as she was settled, Henry lifted her dress up to her hips and, kneeling on the floor between her legs, kissed his way up her inner thigh, the slight hint of stubble on his cheek contrasting his soft lips. He took his time, pressing his tongue to her pussy over the fabric of her underwear. It was better but still not enough, and she couldn't help but squirm to try and increase the sensation. He held her hips still then, letting the need almost burst before finally peeling her ruined panties away and burying his face in her cunt.
He moaned against her, and Olivia heard herself whine like she wasn't in her own body. She covered her mouth only to have him take her wrist and move her hand to the bed.
“I want to hear you,” he told her, looking up at her. She felt so exposed, despite the fact her dress was still on, but she nodded. Henry began to trace her pussy lips with his tongue, lapping up the juices until she did as he wanted and a breathy gasp left her mouth. He flattened his tongue then, and began licking her folds with a slow, steady rhythm. Olivia could feel herself dripping onto the sheets below and needed to come, needed to finish in his mouth.
“Please,” she whined. “Please, I’m so close, Henry,” she said. She didn't think she'd ever wanted something so much before, and he obliged, focusing on her clit with just enough pressure that the world went fuzzy at the edges. He didn't stop, and held her hips harder again as she began to rock against him.
The dam broke, and every muscle in her body tensed as she arched off the bed. He held her through it, groaning again as he continued to taste her. As she came back to her senses she became overly aware of every spot that needed to feel him, her nipples hard against her bra, her mouth aching to taste him, and the desire in her cunt barely satiated. It wasn't enough yet; he had to fuck her.
At some point her fingers had tangled in his hair, keeping his face close, and so she let him go, allowing him space to get on top of her and kiss her again, the taste of her smeared across his face. She began to undo his buttons with clumsy hands, until he got the message and tugged his shirt off over his head. Olivia took the opportunity to do the same, so she was down to her bra, a pretty lace pink thing. He took a moment to admire it, running his thumbs over her stiff nipples before helping her remove that as well, so she was entirely naked.
“You’re gorgeous,” he told her, and kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear. “The guy who stood you up is a fucking idiot.”
Olivia laughed at that; she’d completely forgotten there was supposed to be someone else tonight. “I’d say it’s turned out for the best,” she said. She trailed her hands down his chest, until they landed on his belt again. This time he let her, and before long he was down to his boxers, a small spot of precome leaking through the grey fabric.
“What do you want?” he asked her, eyes still dragging over her body. It was embarrassing to say it out loud. Plus she didn’t know where to start when there was so much she wanted.
“I want to taste you,” she said, feeling her cheeks turn red again for the hundredth time that evening. He gave her another soft kiss before standing up.
“On your knees then, angel,” he said, pointing to the floor. She lowered herself off the bed, and reached out to feel him in her hand. He was rock hard, and she couldn’t resist pressing her tongue to him straight away. It made him sigh, and so she peeled his boxers down his legs until his cock was in her face, not too big, but big enough. Delicately, she ran her tongue up the length of it, watching him for his reaction.
“Fuck,” he said, transfixed by her. She took him in her mouth properly then, savouring the musky scent and slightly salty taste, hollowing her cheeks out as she sucked and making sure she paid attention to his balls, occasionally taking them in her mouth while she wrapped her hand around his cock. She could have sat there all night, his breath getting heavier and heavier, and profanities falling from his lips between compliments, telling her how pretty she looked, how good she was being, how he was going to fuck her so well for being such a good girl. Her cunt was aching still; she was sure he’d barely have to touch her again to make her finish.
Eventually he pushed her away slightly with a small laugh. “I don’t want to finish yet,” he told her, and offered her hand to help her stand. “I want to feel you come on my cock. Would you like that?” he asked her.
“Yes please,” she said quickly, and took the opportunity to kiss him again, his cock hard and slick with her saliva between them. He pushed her back onto the bed and held her legs up, taking time to kiss her calves before slowly pushing himself into her, watching her carefully for any sign of discomfort. Olivia closed her eyes, the sensation perfect and overwhelming and still not enough all at once. She rocked her hips to create some friction.
“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” he teased. He leant over her as her eyes fluttered open again, and pushed his thumb into her mouth. She sucked on it, until it was nice and wet and he gave a contented hum. “Good girl,” he said, and she wondered if he could feel the way her pussy reacted to that. He began to roll his hips then as he placed his thumb on her clit, hitting the perfect spot inside her while the attention to that bundle of nerves sent shivers up her body. Any reluctance she had before about being noisy disappeared, as she couldn’t stop the gasps and whines from escaping her mouth. She hardly recognised herself as she begged him to go harder, give her more, faster, faster, faster.
Henry fucked her as exactly like she wanted, filling her up entirely, throbbing inside her until she was sure she wouldn’t last much longer.
“I need to feel you come on me, go on darling, let go,” he said, and that was enough. Her cunt squeezed around him as her brain turned to static. She barely noticed him collapse on top of her, thrusting hard a few more times until his cock was pulsing deep in her. It could have been seconds or hours when her sensing started coming back. He was still on top of her, heavy and warm and sweaty.
“You're perfect,” he whispered to her. “Where on earth did you come from?”
She could have asked him the same question. He didn’t leave her lying there in their mess for too long before he began to fuss, cleaning her up and getting them some water before they tangled up together again. He held her close to his chest, stroking her hair.
It was only when she yawned that it occurred to her that she should probably leave, although she desperately didn’t want to. That was how these things worked, right? Meet a guy at a bar, fuck him, go home. He had some important marketing job and a whole busy life. It wasn’t as though he’d have any interest in a twenty-four-year old who rented a room in a house with far too many other people and was constantly worried about making rent. She pushed herself away from him and looked around to find her dress.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His eyes were heavy and it seemed like he was close to falling asleep. She should have been more careful.
“Yeah, I’m going to go,” she said, scrambling off the bed and retrieving her underwear.
“Right, of course,” he said, standing up as well and taking a minute to get his bearings. “Sorry, I didn’t think-” He trailed off as he found her dress, and handed it to her as she finished getting her bra back on.
“I can get you a car, one moment,” he said, looking around for his phone.
“There’s really no need,” she said, starting to panic. She couldn’t believe she’d just fucked a stranger and been bold to beg him for it, someone so much older than her as well. She found her shoes, and Henry seemed to sense that she’d had enough so he didn't push her.
“Well thank you, this evening has been… wonderful,” he settled on. “Are you sure I can’t-”
“No, no, you’ve done plenty. Thank you,” she said, and made herself take a breath. God she wanted to kiss him. “Really, thank you, this was fun,” she assured him. He smiled, and for a moment she did consider asking him if she could stay, if he wanted a round two, but then sense kicked in again.
It was only when she was sat in the back of her Uber that she realised she hadn’t even left him her number, she was never going to remember where he lived, and she’d probably just ruined any chance of ever seeing him again.
To be continued…
