On The Hunt

Heels, check. Fishnets, check. The laciest lingerie I own, check.
A sweet, innocent looking outfit to hide it all, check.

It's a Friday night on a cold evening when I stroll into the front bar. Even dressed simply, with basic makeup, heads turn as I walk through the place to order a drink at the bar. A local comes up to chat while I wait to be served, letting me know that he's free tonight and asking what I'm doing. I've left my whole night free, with nothing on my mind but how horny I am, but he's not what I'm looking for. Fresh meat is what I'm here for, and it's time to find a man who doesn't know me. The challenge is to get an invitation to his place for a little fun before the first hour after introducing myself has expired. Anyone who wants to take their time tonight will not be taking me home.

Selecting a secluded spot in the smoking area, I proceed to roll ten cigarettes. I have nearly finished the third when my evening's entertainment walks out. Sitting one table away, I notice him watching me out of the corner of my eye. Ignoring him completely, I continue to slowly roll one cigarette after another, making a decision that if he is still sitting there by the time I'm finished, he will be my target for tonight.

He's a little older than me, but fit, tanned and with the kind of hands that say he works in construction of some sort. I ask to borrow a lighter (despite there being six lighters in the bottom of my handbag) and introduce myself, beginning with small talk. It takes about ten minutes to learn that he's moderately drunk and just at that stage where he's pliable, but not making an ass of himself just yet. After fifteen minutes of talking, I tell him I have a proposition for him, and that he may be interested. His curiosity is peaked and he wants to know what it is.

Rather than be my usual, bashful self, I want to lay it on the table tonight. When I say "I'm going to have incredible sex tonight, and you have until I finish this smoke to decide if it's with you. After this, I walk away." Then I light my cigarette, sit back in my chair and wait.
He laughs, then sees my expression and realises it's no joke. I see him check the time, check his phone and after four drags on my cigarette he says "I only live around the corner. If we walk, we can be there in ten minutes. Is that ok?" and I know I've captured my prey for tonight. I debate a little while (for show, of course) and nonchalantly agree.

We both walk as fast as we can back to his house, a non-descript two bedroom place, nothing fancy, and his bedroom was even less fancy. The only furniture he owned was a bed. We sat on the edge, and all of a sudden we were back to small talk. I whispered to him, slowly and sensually, "I came here to fuck you... Don't you want to fuck me?" In no time, he pressed his lips firmly against mine, kissing me intensely. I could taste rum on his breath, but I didn't care. All it did was remind me that the man licking my tongue was a complete stranger less than an hour ago.

He rushed to undress himself, naked in record time. Before he had the chance to do the same to me, I was out of my innocent outfit and standing before him in nothing but fishnets, heels and black lacy underwear. He couldn't wait to get his hands into them. I told him he had to please me first. I lay on the bed, on my back, presenting my breasts and wrapping my legs around his waist. I grabbed the back of his hair, close to the scalp, with the words "You need to suck my nipples. I'll tell you when you're finished." He licked, sucked and tweaked my nipples until I was aching for more, so I ordered him to eat my pussy. "When I'm satisfied, I'll ask for your cock" I told him.

I released my grip around his waist with my legs, so he could bury his face between them. Like a man on a mission, he lapped at my clit with everything he had, kissing, licking, nibbling and trying to find the magic technique to make me beg for him to get inside me. I let him try them all, until I felt my pussy start to spasm in pleasure. It wouldn't be long until I squirted all over his mouth, but I wanted to squirt somewhere else instead. "Get on top of me, I want you to fuck me like you mean it" I moaned.

He was on top of me in seconds, inside me even quicker, and that first deep thrust made my pussy shudder in pleasure. Fucking me hard, he didn't miss a beat with his fast, unyielding rhythm, pushing me to the brink, then making me squirt down his left thigh. As I came, my pussy squeezed tight (as it always does) pulling him into me as though my vagina wanted to suck his cock. This pressure made him orgasm immediately. He wasn't expecting the 'Snatch Grab', as I call it.

Recovering in between, we fucked five times in all, in every position he could think of, giving me four amazing orgasms. When I didn't quite cum the last time, he fingered my dripping wet pussy until I screamed in ecstasy.

In the morning, he walked me back to the hotel and kissed me on the cheek.
How was I to know he was the bartender's husband?

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