Posted on

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


You have this look on your face of intense concentration as you lock the door to the apartment, like a man on a very serious mission. This makes me giggle because I know what we’re about to do, and knowing our dirty little secret makes me giddy. You catch my eye:

“What are you giggling about?”

But that’s a silly question. We both know. You crack a smile and grab my hand as we walk out.

The bar is only four blocks away but my ass and legs are starting to shiver under my skirt as the cold air hits the bare skin above my thigh highs. I grin and bear it. The coldness is a necessary evil if we are to succeed with our little plan.

The bar is like an underground speakeasy, known only to the locals and insiders. It’s a very specific scene, mostly young educated 20 and 30 somethings. DJs with Ivy League educations and hipster entrepreneurs fill the comfy leather armchairs and sofas most nights of the week, drinking whiskey and cheap beer, chatting and debating or listening to local bands play. Even for a Wednesday night, the place is already jumping. We know the band who’s playing tonight, and as we walk in, your friend, Greg, waves us over to the dark corner area he and his buddies already staked out for us. You and I like to joke about Greg, his false bravado and skeezy ways around women and the fact that for an attractive guy, he rarely gets any pussy. And sure enough, we both catch him glancing at my tits far too long than necessary as he ushers us over to the deep armchairs and couches in the corner. We share a knowing smirk. Somehow, Greg’s obvious letch for my tits makes what we’re about to do that much hotter. I’m already wet and throbbing and nothing’s happened yet–

“Sorry, it’s a bit tight.”

The corner is already packed with their group of friends and not everyone is here yet. There’s an empty armchair in the back still open.

“That’s okay, man, we’ll share,” you say to Greg nonchalantly as you toss your coat on the chair, “Won’t we, babe?” You give my ass a playful swat and wink at me. Greg watches us. I smirk as you pull me down into your lap. The chair is deep and roomy with high sides, made of some really worn leather. Even with your long legs and my wide hips there’s room for both of us.

The whole group is mostly your friends and their various girlfriends, and normally I’d be social and friendly but tonight, I have other things on my mind. Sitting in your lap I feel you get hard through your jeans, the outline pressing firmly into the groove of my ass, so close and yet so far from my throbbing pussy. The warm-up band has started playing when you lean forward and whisper in my ear, “Do it.”

I get up slowly, excusing pendik escort myself while giving you a chance to cross your legs discretely. My legs are wobbly as I walk to the bathroom, my breath intensifying. I can’t believe we’re going to do this. I lock myself in one of the stalls and take a moment to breathe against the door for a second. I reach behind me and feel the little clear buttplug right at my opening, and run my fingers over it. My asshole spasms. My pussy gets wetter. I work the plug with my fingers and then slowly pull it out and a glob of lube drips out onto my panties.

Right before we left the apartment, you bent me over the table and pulled down my panties. I remember the feeling, cold and strange, as you filled the anal syringe with a generous helping of lube, inserted it squirting the lube deep inside and then worked the butt plug into my ass while fingering my spasming pussy. All the while telling me in detail what you were going to do once this plug came out. Mmmmm… even the memory was making me wet. The sounds of the flushing toilets brought me back to reality as I stuffed my wet panties and butt plug into my bag and walked gingerly back to our chair, praying that any lube that leaked out of my ass would be soaked up by my poor thigh highs.

We lock eyes and you know from my slight nod that it’s done, I’m ready. I settle back into your lap, pulling my coat over us slightly. A lot of your friends have their attention on the stage where the band is playing. You whisper in my ear, “Shift a little,” and I feel you unzip and take your still-hard cock out of your jeans. “Okay” you whisper and I shift back. I’m immediately rewarded by the feeling your bare cock against my slippery ass. I can’t help but groan a little involuntarily. I feel your hand tighten around my leg to remind me I have to be as quiet as I can. We sit there awhile, me wiggling imperceptably against your cock, the head right between my cheeks. Greg turns and asks you what time it is, you answer him casually, as if nothing was happening. I can feel both of our hands sweating.

Everyone is watching the band now, so you take the opportunity to grab your cock and adjust it so it is pressing right at the opening of my asshole. The head pops in and now it’s your turn to gasp. I’m almost afraid to breathe, I can’t believe we are doing this… Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, you sink deeper and deeper into my warm slippery asshole until I’m settled completely on your lap.

We’re both very still as we look around to make sure we haven’t been caught. No one is even looking at us. Just the thought of what might happen if some one realizes you are fucking my dirtiest hole in public tuzla escort is enough to make my ass throb. I feel your cock twitch inside me. We’re both sweating. You press your face into the back of my neck and slowly exhale. You kiss the side of my face, my pussy drips onto your lap. Every so often when we think no one is paying attention, you pull back further into the seat and hump my ass with small movements of your hips under me. We’re both aroused to a fevered pitch.

Soon we realize the band is taking a break between sets. There’s nothing we can do, so I just stay in your lap as your friends settle around us and begin talking again. I feel you trying to normalize your breath so you don’t call attention to us. I can’t believe we’re doing this. There’s no escape now, not until the band begins their next set.

“You okay, man?” Greg asks you, flopping down on the couch across from us.

“Yeah, it’s just hot in here…” you say trying to cover how sweaty you are, “Pass me that beer, babe?” I reach for the beer on the coaster in front of me and pass it back to you.

You kiss my ear and tell me, “Thanks babe.” You take a long swing. Greg smirks at us. It’s like he senses we’re up to mischief. I doubt he imagines that you’ve got your long, hard cock buried in my asshole though…

The conversation continues as best we can manage. We pass the beer back and forth to each other, sharing the bottle and taking absent-minded swigs, trying not to betray the fact that we are ass-fucking in the armchair in a room full of our friends and drunk hipsters.I can feel the lube seeping out of me around your cock and onto your lap. I catch Greg staring at me again and I manage to flicker a small smile at him, the whole time all I can feel is your swollen cock throbbing inside me. I’m sweating and trying not to shake. My palms and the backs of my knees are damp. This is torture. Amazing torture. I turn slightly back to look at you and we lock eyes. You don’t have to say anything. I get the plan.

As soon as the band begins their next set, I lift off your cock, letting it slide out and flop on your leg. You scramble to stuff it back in your pants as lube starts involuntarily trickling out my stretched asshole. I lean forward to grab a napkin on the table and pass it back to you. It’s easier for our friends not to notice you pressing the napkin up against my asshole and holding it in place, stemming the flow. It’s awkward but it’s better than having me leak lube down the front of your jeans betraying our secret. You wedge the napkin in my ass crack and then pat my bum to signal me to get up. I grab my bag and walk quickly and purposefully towards the back hallway of the kartal escort club. You follow. This is the best place not to get caught, as the bathrooms all have stalls. Some of the bartenders park their bikes in the hallway, but people rarely come in other than that. We stake out an empty spot under the stairs away from the door.

My bag drops to the floor and we’re both trembling and sweating as you grab me around my waist from behind. You’re still breathing heavy but you don’t waste any time. I feel your palm in the middle off my back bending me over, and then you lift my skirt up baring my naked ass. You quickly wipe my asshole with the saturated cocktail napkin and throw it to the floor. My knees feel like buckling so I grip onto the bottom of the stairs above our heads for support as I hear you spit on your hand and lube up your cock quickly before more lube drips out of my ass. We are just barely in private and while unlikely, anyone could open the door or walk down the stairs and catch us.

I feel the head of your cock finding my asshole again and then you thrust into my dialated hole in one go and let out an animal grunt. Your body slaps against my ass as you grip my hips and fuck me hard from behind. I can hear the squishing noises of the lube in my ass being displaced by your hard cock, over your animalistic grunts. I want to touch my clit but I’m afraid I will fall if I let go of the stairs, so I keep my hands gripped tight where they are as you pound away at my tight ass. Your pace gets quicker and quicker and I can imagine that intense serious look you get on your face when you’re fucking me. “I’m cumming” you groan, and then I whimper, feeling your cock spurting blast after blast of hot cum deep in my asshole. That’s all it takes to send me over the edge. I let out a moan as I cum, my whole pussy spasming. All of a sudden, your hand is over my mouth, muffling my moan, as we hear footsteps coming down the stairs above us. You hold still in my ass, my contracting hole still milking your cock gently, as a busboy walks past the staircase and through the back door. He doesn’t see us. We both exhale.

You kiss the back of my neck and pull your shrinking cock out of my dripping hole. I can still barely move. “Stay there a sec, baby” you say, as if I had a choice. You reach into my purse and fish out the butt plug. You insert it in my ass and hold it in place while my swollen asshole closes around it, gripping it tight. You pat my ass and helps me up. We can’t help but giggle. Your serious face is gone and now you look like the cat that got the canary. You kiss me and pinch my ass cheek affectionately. “We should get back” I say. You grab my bag and we head for the door.

My asshole is filled with your cum. Later, I know you’ll want to lick my ass, tasting your load as it drips out of my tight hole, but that will have to wait. For now, it has to be our dirty little secret.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir