It was actually a blind date, made over the internet, incredibly dangerous and stupid, but let's just say that the state of our marriage at the time was such I needed a thrill, and the more dangerous, the better, I wanted to find the old me, or rather young me, I was tired of being the boring wife, entertaining his bosses and mates, I felt I was sinking into my worst nightmare: the domesticated slave.
We met in a popular wine bar, I arrived late, I wanted to get a look at him and bolt before he saw me if I did not like the look of him in real life. But I did, he was not handsome, he looked sort of rugged, a working man, broad shoulders, strong jaw, steady eyes. We had exchanged what we would be wearing so I knew as soon as he saw me he would know me, I took a breath and stepped into view, well aware he had the same option, run for it if I was not what he expected.
But he smiled and in a very nice touch walked up to meet me so I would not have to cross the length of the place myself, and to my amazement handed me a blood red rose. In my entire married life I had never had so much as a buttercup off my husband.
I liked his smile, it did not look forced and it was echoed in his eyes, a sort of warmth. Normally I hate being touched but he put his arm about my waist and led me to the table he had claimed and I was charmed, actually sorry when he let go of my waist to hold a chair back for me.
We sat, he ordered wine without consulting me, which again would normally have annoyed the hell out of me, but this time it was nice, he was taking charge and I enjoyed the sensation of being pampered, perhaps even seduced. We had both lied about our names, he confessed first and said he was really Mike, so I came clean also somehow that was all it took, right then I decided if he wanted me he would get me.
He had another lie to confess, he was not married, that did make me hesitate, I had chosen a married man on the site because A) he probably would be anyway and it was better to be upfront about it, and B) I thought it would be safer, less likely to be some nut job who would stalk me or leave me dead in an alley.
But he had been engaged with a girl he had known all his life, and she had just recently dumped him, he looked genuinely heartbroken over it and I wanted to hold him and tell him I had been there, and it would mend. But that was pushing it with a stranger in a busy wine bar.
He turned the conversation to me, I gave him an abbreviated account of a marriage gradually turning into a straight-jacket around me. We finished the first glass of wine and I expected him to order more, one-oh-one for pulling your date, right?
Instead he suddenly laid his hand on the table, palm up, my first wild idiot thought was he was demanding money for the bill, but then I got it and put my hand in his, it was such a simple caress, but so long since I had done it I felt incredibly sad.
"I am sorry," he said. "I am really killing the mood here, my pathetic love life, your boring one. I cannot believe I am doing this, but how about we blow this place and go back to mine?"
The blood was roaring in my ears and my heart pounding. His place? First date? What the hell kind of woman did he take me for?
I felt myself blushing, because a little voice was pointing out if I had not considered this possibility then why was I wearing a rather uncomfortable black lace bra and matching panties under my smart skirt and top? And had I, or had I not, dabbed perfume to the inside of my thighs?
"Is it far?" I whimpered.
It was not, he let us into a neat apartment block and paused to let me walk up stairs first. I knew he was looking up my skirt, and wanted him to, half way up he had me pause, I looked back and he took a couple of photos of me on his phone. I was incredibly flattered.
He was still behind me on the landing, directing me to his flat, he reached around me to open the door and my legs turned to jelly, this was my last chance to back out, but it was not an option, as the door opened his free hand firmly pushed me into his flat.
I stumbled, but the hall was narrow and as I automatically reached out my hands hit either wall and held me up. Big hands reached around me and seized my breasts without so much as a please or thank-you, it was not painful, but it was a shock, my mouth opened to shout but his mouth fastened on my neck and the shout came out as a soft moan.
Walking was very awkward, he stepped forward, each leg forcing one of mine to copy his movement, his hands on my breasts stopping me from just collapsing boneless, his mouth bit and kissed at my neck, causing me to shiver un-controllably. I reached back to push him off me, but my hands touched his hair and pulled him harder to my neck instead.
The hall was short and past the empty coat hooks I was pushed into the living room, bright sun streaming through the windows, a very untypical Batchelor flat, neat three-piece suite, crotched cushion covers, a rug over the polished wood floor that was colour co-ordinated with the suite.
A woman had lived here, or been party to setting it up at least, his fiancé I suppose. The hands left my breasts, gripped my hips and turned me to face him, his mouth chewing a line across my neck to my throat, my head went back to expose myself to his sharp teeth. The hands went behind me and grabbed my bottom, strong fingers squeezed until I gasped. "No need to be so rough!"
His hungry mouth left my throat and his eyes were blazing as they met mine. "Yes there is need!" He told me. He stepped closer and by his greater weight forced me back, my legs against the back of the sofa, his hands gripped my skirt and pulled it right up, the fabric of the sofa was pressed against my panties. His mouth covered mine, demanding, urgent, accepting no resistance his tongue forced my lips apart and invaded my mouth, dominating it, pushing my tongue aside and exploring my teeth and the inside of my cheeks. The pressure of his body against mine increased and I felt a dizzy shift as I tipped over the back of the sofa and fell onto the soft embrace of the cushion seat.
Free of his touch and demanding kiss I uncurled from the knot I had landed as and found myself flushed, but unharmed, reclined on the sofa, propped on one elbow, it never occurred to me to try and run for it, my breathing was as heavy as his, he might have frightened me a little with his violence, but he had also excited me at the most basic level.
He stripped with impatience as he came around the sofa after me, kicking his pants free with violent motions, his shirt tearing as the buttons resisted him, he wore thin boxer shorts and they were strained out at the front, my mouth felt metallic, my chest tight as that steep tent of cotton came closer to me, eager to be free to abuse me, of their own accord my slightly raised legs parted, inviting it.
Pausing to remove the tangle of trousers around his shoes he straightened up standing over me, naked but for the stressed boxers. And for a startled moment I saw the demon that had seized him retreat from his burning eyes and he stared down at me in appalled realisation of what he was doing.
I reached up and gripped the tent, squashed it about the rigid shaft that was forming it, my fingers closing ever tighter until I felt them digging into the flesh. Watching his eyes, I saw the devil rise again in them, a creature of hunger that would accept no refusal, interested only in slaking its own wild lust.
He grabbed my hand to pull it away, but I held on tight, he bared his teeth, using his erection as a handle I swung my legs to the floor, either side of his, hooked my high heels around his bare legs, my hand held him at my breast level now, a sword between us, quivering with potential violence. I let go of it slowly, tightening again hard when he made to reach for me, his arms relaxed back, but shook slightly with pent up energy.
Gently I took the sides of his boxers in my hands, holding his gaze. I slid the boxers down, they arrested on his erection, pulled it down, could not get past it. I leaned forward, gripped the waistband in my teeth and pulled it toward me, allowing my hands to lower the boxers and freeing his cock suddenly to flip up and wave in front of my eyes.
His fingers slid into my hair as I pushed the boxers on down past his knees, I felt his fingers weaving, gathering my hair, winding it, imprisoning it. I let go of the boxers and waited as he stepped out of them, my now free hands resting on my knees, on my skirt.
There was a moment of anticipation that was almost unbearable, when we were both motionless, he naked and aroused, standing over me, I fully dressed, demure, but so vulnerable, so in his power, his hands shackles in my hair.
"Open your mouth," he ordered hoarsely.
I kept my lips closed, leaned forward a little to touch them against the tip of his straining cock in a dry kiss, then pulled back a bit, my hands stroked the back of his legs, up and down. I wanted that mindless determination back, the one that pushed me into this place and onto this sofa. "Why?" I whispered.
He tightened his hold in my hair, tried to pull my face back, I held tight, despite the pain of my hair being pulled. "You know why!"
"I don't!" I licked my lips, slowly. "Why should I open my mouth?"
"So I can fuck it," he breathed.
"Suppose I don't want you to?" I retorted, the hands stroking his legs paused, I placed them on the front of his thighs, flat, as if to push him back.
"I don't care what you want!" The roots of my hair shrilled as he twisted his hands tighter still. "Open your mouth, now!"
"Make me!" I challenged softly.
He breathed in hard and his hands yanked savagely at my hair, I would have screamed at the searing pain but as my mouth stretched open he pushed himself into me, his velvet coated rod of steel bruising my lips against my teeth, roughly shoving down my tongue to charge like an express train to jam against the back of my mouth, the tip nudging at my open throat and triggering my gag reflex, I coughed, a strangled spasm that caused my jaw to clamp on him, he groaned and the pain of my scalp doubled as his hands tried to drag me further onto his prick.
"Oh you gorgeous bitch, take it, take my prick and choke on it!" Mike panted, rocking his hips and making his cock massage my captive mouth, I gurgled and mumbled, unable to make any coherent sounds. I was in control of myself if he was not, and a slightly annoyed part of me realised he was not really talking to me, he was getting revenge on his fiancé.
I dug my fingers into his bare, undulating bum and my nails stabbed into him. He let out a startled and very pained yell and tried to pull back, but I bit down on his prick and held it clamped in my mouth.
The yell turned into a pleading whine and I relented, relaxing my grip, my fingertips registered wetness, I had drawn blood. My teeth unclenched and he slid cautiously out of my mouth, hissing slightly as his shaft scraped over the tips of my teeth, unravelling his hands from my hair.
"My God!" He gasped. "Wow!"
I stood up and he stared sadly at me. "Don't go!" He pleaded. "I will be more gentle, I promise!"
"Sit down before you fall down," I advised him, adding a push to his chest, he sat back on the sofa with a huff of breath. I combed my hair with his fingers, despite my mistreatment his prick was still jutting up gamely, I could actually see my teeth marks in it. I knelt up on the sofa, facing him, sitting on his lap, his prick was covered with the folds of my skirt. I put my hands on his shoulders, wriggled a little to feel his prick rubbing against my panties.
"I do not want you to be gentle," I told him firmly. "But I do want your undivided attention, I am sorry about your fiancé, but she is not here right now, and I am, you can do whatever you want to me, demand I do all the things she would not..." I reached up my skirt, tugged the gusset of my panties to one side with my little fingers, caught his prick with my thumb and index and held it steady, lifted up on my knees to position my wet and ready pussy over it. I bent to place my mouth to his ear and breathed. "Starting right now!" I dropped myself down hard and fast and his prick slammed up into me with a sensation of violent tearing, I had to bite my forearm to stifle my scream and his whole body jerked, adding to the shock of our meld, his eyes went wide with shock and his mouth gaped, worried he might alarm the neighbours I slapped my free hand over his mouth and blocked the howl that expanded in his throat.
With him all the way into me I rotated my hips, I would pay for this later, I would be sore for days probably, but it was worth it, as I started a second rotation he made a snarling sound, I was lifted into the air, still impaled on him, as he stood up, I wrapped my legs around him and my upper body flopped back until my hair brushed the floor, his hands were gripping my wrists and I returned the hold, my back straining as I was held horizontal, pivoting on his shaft thrust into me. He flexed his knees and I half sobbed, half shouted as he withdrew slightly then punched back all the way into me, my hands sprang open as the hammer blow pounded right through my body, but he held me in place. Grinning at my insane babbling and contorted face he shuffled us around until I felt the sofa under my back, my legs were prized out from behind his back and a strong fist gripped each of my ankles and lifted them high, onto his shoulders, he crouched over me, driving my legs back until my knees were either side of my head and his hips ground his rigid prick deep inside me, his strong arms pinning mine against the back of the sofa, utterly helpless I could only stare into his triumphant eyes as he pummelled me, jamming his cock impossibly deep, then pulling back so he could slam hard back in again until I was reduced to repeating madly "Please...Please...Please!"
At some point I was roughly pushed onto my knees on the floor, face down on the seat of the sofa, turned to the side so I could breath, panting as he fucked me from behind, pausing to stop himself coming, amusing himself by spanking me while he waited for his orgasm to abate, then slamming back into me to start again. I had no such luxury, I came again, and again, my hands clawing at the sofa, pushing my face into it to drown my screams while my lover laughed and mocked me. "There you go, bitch! Scream all you want, but I have not finished with you yet!"
I let out a deep groan of relief when I felt him finally sag over me, my pussy was too numbed to feel him coming but I felt it foam down my legs and he stopped that incessant pummelling to rest against me, panting like the Engine that finally did it.
We were like that a long time, or it seemed long. But the sun was still bright when I stirred, eased him off me. He lay back on the floor, flushed, breathing hard still, his penis a spent weapon against his stomach, caked in drying cum. His smile was lazy as I stood up, slowly and with great effort, leaning on the sofa. I was still fully dressed, apart from my shoes which had been ripped off at some unrecalled point. My skirt flopped down over the burning cavity of my pussy, I tugged my panties into place, I smelt like a packed sauna, my top stuck to me, an uncomfortable mix of dry and wet sweat. I toed my shoes back on, at which point he stirred.
"You cannot go!" He protested.
"No option," I replied, hunting down my handbag and getting my brush out to attack the impossible tangle of my hair. "I need to get home and shower before hubby gets home."
"You can shower here!"
"And my clothes?" I challenged. "Sorry, got to love you and leave you."
"Will I see you again?" He called plaintively after me.
I paused at the door, could not resist it. "Call me!" I replied sweetly."
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