She’d felt the need building for a few weeks now. Tonight was the last Thursday of the month, which meant it was Mike’s turn to pick up the kids because she had to stay back to get her reporting finished. She knew she could bang that out and still have about 45mins to spare, which was way more time than she needed. Reports done, she grabbed her purse and power walked across to a bar a few blocks away from her office. She needed something close but not so close that someone she knew might be there.
Once inside, she went straight to the ladies’. The dim bathroom lights weren’t great for applying make-up but they’d have to do. She undid a button or two and applied a swipe of red lipstick. Not satisfied with that, she loosened her long, blonde ponytail, flipping her head upside down under the hand dryer and ruffling her hair with her fingers to get that windswept/bed-head look guys love. Glancing in the mirror on the way out, she thought she’d done a better than alright job. This would be easy.
At the bar, she ordered a rye – neat – and was met with an approving nod from the bartender. He was cute but he would be of no use to her (maybe another night when she had the time to stay late) so she quickly paid and started casing the patrons. It was a bloke-y bar, not many women, which suited her fine. As she studied the men in the room, the fingers of her right hand toyed with her wedding ring – twisting it back and forth. She never took it off. Over the years, she’d found it made her little adventures more exciting. It seemed some men were turned on by fucking another man’s wife, by using her in a manner her husband would probably find shocking.
And she knew Mike would find what she was doing shocking. It’s not that she didn’t love him; she did and she had no intention of leaving him. But this wasn’t about love, it was about need. She needed something Mike couldn’t give her. Mike was a gentle man. He was kind and sweet and loving. The perfect father and a perfectly good husband who she still had amazing sex with. But sometimes she needed more. Sometimes she needed to be fucked. And kind, sweet, gentle Mike just couldn’t do that to her, no matter how much she tried to coax it out of him. And so here she was, at a bar, looking to find someone who would do what her husband couldn’t.
She spotted him across the room, just as she was starting to get worried that she’d run out of time. He was sitting at one of the high tables by the door, lost in thought and the glass of something resting in front of him. She noticed his big hands wrapped around the tumbler, the rough stubble on his face. He was wearing some kind of tradie uniform, which made her instantly horny. In her experience, tradesmen were the easiest and the roughest. They were unused to women approaching them in uniform and took great advantage when the opportunity arose.
She strode over to him and, without hesitation, took the other seat at his table. Her glass clinked with his as she slid in next to him. He looked up with surprise and was about to speak, when she leant in close and very slowly grazed her shin against his. Their eyes met as he looked at her to see if it was an accident. She held his gaze and sipped her drink. He smelt like bourbon and some generic manly cologne, probably Old Spice or Brut, if she had to guess. He was perfect.
“I don’t have much time,” she said, putting her glass down and toying with her ring, all the better to draw his eye to it. “Do you want to go outside?”
“Outside? Why-” he stopped speaking as he felt her hand snake up his thigh, stroking the rough, utilitarian fabric covering his cock.
“Sure,” he croaked and slid out of his seat, heading for the door.
Once outside, she overtook him and lead the way into one of the side alleys. She knew this bar and the surrounding lane ways well. Just a bit further down was a spot that was dark and private enough for what she needed. The smell of the dumpsters didn’t phase her. In fact, it was almost a turn on. The thought of what she was about to do with this complete stranger in this filthy alley made her walk even faster. Her heels clicked on the cobblestones and she could hear his heavier footfalls a few steps behind.
She dropped her bag on the ground and got down on her knees, reaching for his belt. She felt almost frantic with excitement. He was already half hard as they both worked to free his cock from his pants. It wasn’t as long as Mike’s but it was much thicker. He didn’t trim and he smelt of sweat and sawdust. She hungrily took him in her mouth, sucking and licking with a ferocity that surprised even her. His big hand reached down and grabbed her chin, pulling her off his cock long enough to lock eyes with her while using his hips to rub his cock across her chin, cheeks and lips. Letting her know he was in charge. When he was ready, he twisted his fingers in her hair and roughly pushed her head back and forth on his cock. Knowing what he wanted, she let her jaw hang slack so her could fuck her mouth at his own pace.
Holding onto his leg with one hand for balance, she put her other hand to work rubbing her clit and was surprised by how close to orgasm she was. The squalor, roughness and humiliation of it all was a huge turn. The sound of this stranger’s grunts and her own slurping sounds echoing off the walls made her pussy throb with excitement. She knew what a mess she’d be; her lipstick smeared across her face and her stockings ripped on the uneven pavement beneath her knees. Her eyes were watering with the force of his thrusts, which meant her mascara would be running (she never wore the waterproof kind). This was exactly what she needed.
“Get up,” he grunted, without warning, his voice raspy with need.
When she didn’t respond fast enough, he yanked her up by her hair and bent her over facing the wall. They both tugged her skirt up over her hips and his thick, stubby fingers pushed her expensive underwear to the side as they probed past her slick folds. She gasped as he crammed his fingers inside her, one then two, three, four fingers stretching her pussy, pushing further and further in. Then they were gone and she felt the head of his cock rubbing against her clit. He took pleasure in the moans she made as he teased her with the tip of his penis, rubbing it all around the outside of her cunt but refusing to put it in, no matter much she wriggled and squirmed back against him.
With one hand still twisted in her hair and the other on her hip, he slid his cock inside her, almost gently. He took his time with that first thrust, sliding himself in as far as he could go, savouring the feeling while at the same time seeming to take stock of what she was capable of. And she was capable of a lot. Her dripping pussy had been moistened by his use of her mouth, stretched by his fingers and it was more than ready to do what it was made for and now he knew that.
He wasn’t gentle. The force of his next thrust would’ve sent her face first into the wall if she hadn’t braced herself. He let go of her hair and grabbed her hips tightly, pulling her back onto his cock, unwilling to let her squirm away even the slightest bit. His fingers dug into her ass, mauling her skin at the same time as his cock pummelled her cunt. Her pleasure was intense. Each moan felt like it was being ripped from her by force.
“Tell me you want it, slut,” he said. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“Fuck me,” she gasped. “Fuck me harder!” Each word acted as a punctuation to his thrusts. He was quite literally fucking the breath out of her.
His thumb had started making very deliberate circles around her ass. She pushed back against him, moaning.
“I knew it. You fucking slut. You want me to fuck your ass, don’t you?” he growled.
“Yes please yes,” she moaned.
His fingers pushed into her ass, stretching her tight hole in preparation. His cock slid out of her cunt as he pulled her upright, pressing her body against his while his arm snaked across her breasts, holding her against him. She felt him bend his knees slightly and then the head of his cock was pressing, pressing, pressing against her ass – straining against it – and then it was in.
They both gasped as his cock rammed into her. She shivered as that particular combination of pain and pleasure washed over her. His fingers rubbed her clit and she shuddered against him, her legs already weak and trembly. She knew she was going to come soon. He was making wild animal-like noises at her ear as he pounded into her ass. She could feel the hairiness of his legs against hers, the muscles bunching and lengthening as he slammed into her.
His pace quickened and his hand closed around her throat. She felt his legs starting to shake and he gripped her neck so hard her vision blurred before she felt him tense up and explode inside her with a groan that echoed around the alley. Her own orgasm came at the sound of his. The world dimmed for a second and she heard herself moaning, as if from a distance.
She felt him slip out of her as she slid to her knees, his come leaking from her ass onto the pavement. There was no sound at all for a few seconds then she slowly became aware of their breathing and the metallic tinkling of his zipper and belt as he put his pants back on. Then something else – a phone was ringing. Shit! It was hers! He kicked her bag towards her and she fumbled around until she spotted it blinking. Caller ID said it was Mike.
“Hi, honey” she said, ever so slightly out of breath.
“Are you nearly home?”
“Yeah, about 20mins away. Why?”
“Can you bring home some milk?”
“Sure thing, babe,” she said, hanging up and dropping the phone back into her bag.
Hearing Mike’s voice had brought her back to reality. It was time to take stock of the situation. She was kneeling on the pavement in an alley with her skirt up around her waist. Her panties were jumbled into her ass crack and soaked with the come of a random stranger. Her face and hair were most definitely a mess. She looked around. He was already gone. He’d been perfect. She’d always had a knack for picking exactly what she needed.