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Second Place “Quickie Sex” Competition.
Bad Girl
By
Liz

Bad Girl

Her t-shirt said 'Bad Girl' and her eyes said ‘read the t-shirt’.
James had been propping up the bar all night, somewhat despondent at his lack of luck with the ladies. It wasn’t that he was unattractive, but he began to think that the desperation was evident on his face.

“Can girls even see that?” he asked drunkenly with a sweep of his hand.

The barman wasn’t listening, not that he could hear James over the loud, booming bass of the club music anyway. He just shrugged and carried on topping up the fridges with bottles of beer.

“I mean, I’m not that fucking desperate. It’s only been like…” He began to count in his head. Four months? Five?

“Fuck,” he grumbled and took a large gulp of his Jack Daniels and Coke. As he placed the glass back on the bar, something nudged his elbow and almost sent the drink flying.

“Shit! Hey, watch what you’re…” She was gorgeous. Slim and petite with flowing blonde hair and a cheeky smile.

“Sorry about that,” she shouted over the music, “some dick-head shoved me and I fell forward.”

“That’s alright,” he shouted back, leaning in a little closer, “no harm done. My name’s James.”

The girl plonked herself down on the stool next to him, her stone-washed, tight fitting jeans hugging her shapely thighs. She looked at him in a way that made his cock begin to swell, her perfect white teeth flirtatiously nibbling on her bottom lip. As James gave her the once over, he admired the tight top stretched over her fantastic looking c-cups. Her t-shirt said, 'Bad Girl', and her eyes said ‘read the t-shirt’.

“What’s your name?” he asked, before downing the dregs of his drink.

“If you can guess it in three I’ll let you fuck me in the bathroom.”

A fountain of warm whisky and Coke sprayed from his mouth, and in seemingly slow motion due to the strobe lighting from the DJ’s lighting rig, rained all over the bar. The look of utter contempt from the barman made him cringe.

“Oh, fuck! I'm so sorry,” he shouted over the bar. As he started to dab up the droplets of liquid with a napkin he took a guess.

“Lisa?”

The girl picked up a straw, popped the end between her crimson red lips, and began to nibble on it as she shook her head.

“Danielle?”

A second shake of her head. James failed to notice that he was now patting the sodden napkin on the hand of the annoyed barman who was also trying to clean the bar.

“Erm, Ashleigh?” Suddenly she grabbed the front of his top, pulled him in close and kissed him passionately. Her mouth was warm and sweet, her tongue eager to play.

“We have a winner,” she replied as she took him by the hand and dragged him off across the dance floor to the bathrooms. She pushed open the door to the girls' toilets, strode quickly into one of the empty stalls and sat down on the seat as he followed her in. James had barely finished locking the stall door before Ashleigh had his belt unbuckled and jeans unbuttoned.

“Fuck, you’re keen,” he whispered, as she pulled the denim down to his ankles along with his black boxer shorts. The fact that he was already semi-hard seemed to amuse her as she slipped the delicious lips of her mischievous smile over the head of his cock. She’d been aching for a nice big dick all night, and now she had her hands on one.

The warm, wet sensation of her tongue stroking around the glans of his head finished the job her thighs had started just moments before. He was now hard as a rock and rolling his hips into her fist. James tilted his head back and squinted as the burnt out florescent tube on the ceiling buzzed and flickered.

The pressure was unbearable. The prolonged anticipation of a hard fucking had turned Ashleigh’s sexy black g-string into a warm, cum-soaked mess. As she squirmed from side to side on the toilet seat she could feel the slick, swollen lips of her tortured pussy slipping against each other in a mush of squishy arousal.

Not sure how much longer she could wait before giving in to the urges that threatened her sanity, her hands found their way to the firm nipples straining at tight t-shirt. Erect, pink nubs of rigid flesh gave away to the incessant attention of her fingertips.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned hungrily around James’s stiff cock.

She needed this more than she thought was possible. A quivering mass of sexually frustrated girl, Ashleigh was at breaking point. If she didn’t come soon, she didn’t know what would happen.

As the pinching and twisting of her nipples through the fabric became more urgent, she couldn’t ignore the ache any longer. She pulled her mouth from his cock with a little ‘pop’, stood up and turned around. Her deft fingertips made short work of the buttons on her jeans and as she wriggled them down over her hips, she bent forward at the waist. A quiet moan of appreciation from James had her smiling as she braced herself with her hands on the top of the cold porcelain tank.

“Get that dick inside me,” Ashleigh whispered as she hooked her left index finger in the back of her g-string and pulled it to one side.

He took in the sight of her delicious looking peach; dark pink, ripe, lacquered and ready for him. With a deliberate attempt to tease this horny little bunny, he pushed two fingers into her glistening, pouting pussy and stroked them slowly inside her.

Ashleigh whimpered as she felt James’s fingers pry and explore between her delicate folds. Each brush of his thumb over her sensitive, cum-slicked clit caused her to shudder uncontrollably.

“Stop teasing and fuck me already!” she begged, desperate to feel him stretch her as he penetrated her sopping hole.

As he lined up and pushed forward, he felt the warm, liquid velvet grip of her tight sex slowly engulf his throbbing length. Ashleigh wiggled and rolled her hips as she pushed backwards, ensuring every inch of steel-hard cock disappeared into her hot, gooey depths.

“Fuck, yes,” she brokenly gasped as her head dropped forward and eyes rolled.

As James began to pound his length into the sexy blonde girl, he tilted his head back, closed his eyes and silently mouthed the words ‘Thank you, God’.

He gripped her slender hips, enjoying the quiet, echoing sounds of flesh impacting flesh. Enjoying the ripples which shook her firm little bottom each time he forcefully thrust forward, each time her knees threatened to buckle as her legs spread wider to grant her desperate fingers access to her throbbing clit.

It didn’t take long, James could tell she was close by the urgency of her rubbing and kneading. The little pants and whimpers of pleasure had become broken moans and breathy sighs. He watched her back arch and her ass grind into him harder, a frenzied attempt to take him as deep as she could.

With a flurry of powerful thrusts, Ashleigh finally broke. Her knuckles turned white as her grip on the porcelain tank lid threatened to tear it from the wall. Her legs trembled, struggling to maintain her body weight. James could feel her muscles clench down on him and pulse with the exquisite, ruthless waves of her toe-curling orgasm.

He was close himself, he could feel the all too familiar sensation of a tightening in his balls, the squeezing tingle of impending climax.

“I’m going to come,” he hissed out, still stroking in and out of her tender, swollen flesh.

With that, Ashleigh pulled forward causing him to slip out of her. She quickly turned and sat herself down, taking his straining, hot flesh in her hand. It glistened in the clinical blue-tinged light, pounding with the blood surging through it. With her sex-hazed eyes staring directly into his, she popped the head of his cock back into her mouth and began to swirl her tongue around it quickly.

James held onto the paper dispenser with a death-grip as with a flurry of strokes from her delicate manicured hand, she began to milk him dry. His cock twitched and pulsated over and over into her hot mouth as she swallowed every single drop.

“Jesus, Ashleigh, that was fucking incredible,” he breathed heavily, slumped against the door.

With a smirk on her face as she stood to button up her jeans, she replied, 'My name isn't Ashleigh.”

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and unlocked the stall door to leave.

“Wait! What is your name?" James watched as she grinned, ripped a hand towel from the machine, pulled a lip pencil from her pocket and scribbled her cell number down.

“Give me a call sometime, maybe you’ll find out.”

He looked down at the scrap of tissue. “You’re missing two digits.”

“I’m only easy when it suits me.”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2013-2016 Elizabeth Jones. All Rights Reserved. This story may not be copied, reproduced or linked in any manner, without the express written permission of the author.

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