Dear Diary,
The weekend was here, and I was ready for action. It had been a couple of weeks since my tryst with Dom and John. Remembering how they made me their slut and shagged me like a cheap whore fueled my bedtime masturbation sessions. My orgasms were good, but the craving remained. I was in desperate need of another good shag.
On Fridays, the Anchor pub drew a large crowd. There was sure to be a good selection of guys there, and I intended to seduce at least one of them.
I looked forward to the evening all day at work, and time seemed to drag. When quitting time came, I jumped in my car, turned on the radio, and pulled out of the car park for the afternoon drive.
Traffic sucked on the way home due to some wanker crashing in the middle of the Ring Road. The hour-long delay while the road was cleared left me very little time for dinner. Leftover Thai curry chicken and an egg roll from last night’s dinner would have to do.
I took a quick bath and washed my long blonde hair, shaving and making sure my body was soft and smooth. I wrapped my hair in a towel and painted my nails matte red to match the lipstick I planned to wear. I pulled the towel off my head and stood in front of the mirror, brushing my hair.
My toned, athletic body was quite spectacular. My boobs were full and firm, the pink areolae tipped with thick, sensitive nipples. I put the brush down and cupped them, feeling their heft and teasing my nipples with the tip of my fingers. I put my arms at my sides and turned to see the curve of my boobs and my petite bubble butt in the mirror, running my hands down my body to give my cheeks a playful squeeze.
I smiled and blew a kiss to the blonde bombshell in the mirror, walked to my closet, and dressed to kill.
My outfit was a statement of power wrapped in allure. The tight black leather miniskirt hugged the curve of my hips, its sleek lines emphasizing my athletic silhouette.
Paired with it, I wore a sheer white lace top — backless, delicate, and unapologetically feminine — hinting at the shape beneath and providing tantalizing glimpses of my 34C boobs. It exposed my taut abs and the diamond stud in my belly button. The matching lace G-string hugged my hairless mound.
My open-toe strappy heels sharpened my posture and added an elegant sway to my stride. The black heels and skirt contrasted perfectly with the sheer white lace top. A touch of mascara and matte red lipstick was the final touch.
I stood back and looked at myself in the full-length mirror.
Everything about my look said I was dressed to fuck.
I walked into the pub feeling fearless, magnetic, and utterly in command of my presence. I gazed through the crowd, my heels clicking as I sashayed across the sticky floor to the bar.
As I stepped up to order a drink, the bartender set a pornstar martini in front of me.
“Compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar,” she said, indicating a handsome, well-dressed older guy.
I looked at him, and he raised his glass in my direction. I raised mine back, and we drank a silent toast to maybe.
I took a seat at the bar, and a moment later, he picked up his drink and approached.
His dark hair was slightly tousled as if he’d just run a hand through it, and framed a face cut with a sharp, deliberate jawline.
He carried himself with an easy confidence. His broad shoulders moved beneath a fitted shirt as though he was built to fill out every inch of it.
"Hello, pretty lady, I'm Jacob,” he said with a deep, baritone voice.
Light caught in his brown eyes as he gave me an appraising glance, his cool, steady gaze lingering on my 34C chest one second too long to ignore.
I smiled and flashed my baby blues, offering my hand.
“Hello, handsome. I'm Elle."
“You are a stunning beauty, Elle,” he said, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss.
“Thank you, Jacob. You’re not so bad yourself. Care to join me?” I asked.
“It would be my pleasure,” he said, sitting down at a stool beside me.
“Thank you for the drink, Jacob. Porn Star martinis are my favorite,” I said, taking another sip. "How did you know?”
“I see all the gorgeous ladies drinking them, and since you’re the most gorgeous of all, it stood to reason that you would like one, too.”
“Good answer,” I laughed, sipping my drink and setting my glass on the bar.
I turned to face him, and we made small talk. More precisely, he made small talk. I smiled and nodded and laughed at all the right moments, and although I heard myself speak, I had no idea what was said.
I was focused on the man.
I watched his lips move as he spoke and wondered if he was a good kisser.
His smile, slow and lopsided, almost secretive, felt like an invitation to lean closer.
His voice was hypnotic, enthralling, and I found myself drawn in by something I couldn’t quite name, pulling me gently, inevitably, toward him. His soothing baritone voice resonated with something inside me.
He seemed perfectly aware of the effect he was having on me. I intended to bring out the beast in him.
I leaned in, my lips brushing his ear, “You look like the type who could handle some fun,” I said as my tongue traced his earlobe.
“Depends on what sort of fun you’re offering,” he responded.
I took his hand and led him to the exit past the bouncer. I led him round the corner to the alley and pushed him against the brick wall. I kissed him, pushing my tongue into his mouth. His hands gripped my waist hard, bruising me as I ground myself on him.
I broke the kiss and whispered into his ear, “Fuck me, Jacob, fuck me now.”
He surged into action, pawing at my tits through the thin fabric of my top. He hiked my skirt up and shoved his hand into my sodden panties. I heard a ripping sound and a violent tug as he yanked the tiny garment off. He pushed me against the wall and freed his cock, lifted my leg, and fed it into my wet pussy.”
He put his hands on my ass and lifted me off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pinned me against the wall. He pulled his cock out until just the head was in and then slammed it into me, pushing the breath out of my lungs. The alley was filled with the squelching noises of my wet pussy,
I moaned, “Harder, Jacob, I want to feel you tomorrow.”
He groaned and adjusted his grip, digging his fingers into my ass cheeks and angling me just right, the next thrust so hard that I nearly blacked out.
“Like that, you want it rough, baby?”
I replied, “Yes, fuck yes!” as my hands yanked his head back, crashing my mouth into his. I could taste the alcohol and sweat on his tongue, the taste of his manliness.
Jacob’s thrusts became feral, each thrust bouncing me up the damp brick wall. He was fucking me like he owned me, and the alley was his dungeon. My orgasm was coiling up. I could feel his cock swelling inside me.
“I’m going to cum,” I whimpered, “make me cum.”
He snarled, digging his hands into my skin, and drove into me hard one last time. I shuddered with a scream, my back arching off the wall, my pussy clamping around his cock like a vice. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, my juices gushing over his cock, soaking us both.
Jacob groaned, his body locking up as his own climax tore through him. His cock jerked inside me, ropes of hot cum flooding my cunt, filling me so full it dripped down my thighs. I moaned through the aftershocks, my body milking him for every last drop, my legs trembling around his waist.
"Fuck that was hot," Jacob said.
“Exactly what I needed,” I replied.
I tilted his head up and gave him a slow, lingering kiss whilst he held me, not wanting to let go. I unwound my legs from his waist, putting my feet back on the floor and smoothing my skirt, the night air kissing my pussy.
The evidence of our actions glistened on my thighs as I squatted and took his cock between my lips, cleaning him off. I reached into my bag and reapplied my lipstick before planting a kiss on his semi-hard cock, leaving a kiss mark on his shaft. I stood up and walked away from him, swaying my arse as I headed for the taxi rank.
The cabbie was a rough-looking older guy. He scrambled to open the door for me, eye-fucking me as I approached. I made sure to give the dirty old man a look up my skirt as I stepped into the cab.
I couldn’t blame the old perv for lusting after me, a hot young blonde dressed like a whore and smelling of cum.
I gave him the address, and he drove me home. We chatted, and I flirted with him as he leered at me in the rear-view mirror.
"Now you call me direct if you need another ride, dear. I'll be here in a flash," he said, smiling.
I took the card and looked up at him, smiling.
"See you next time, then," I said, leaving him with a smile.
Love,
Elle
