What is he doing to me? Nobody has ever done anything like this to me before. As soon as my thoughts slip away to Zack and how his pitiful ministrations were nothing compared to this, my Romeo grabs my chin and forces me to look him in the eye while he fucks me with his fingers.
He's got my wrists pinned above my head against the wall and I'm totally at his mercy here. And I fucking love it. He's taking charge of this entire situation, so confident. Everything he's doing feels like a custom move designed to drive me wild. He is literally stirring my body into a frenzy with his long, thick fingers. God, if his fingers feel like this, what will his dick be like? Zack always fumbles around in his own rush to climax without much skill at getting me there, so I usually let my mind wander off. But this feels so good. I want to be here, in the moment. This is new to me. I never feel focused like this except when I'm rowing.
Mr. Huge, Dark, and Handsome bites my nipple and I scream. And then he grins this devilish, crooked smile as he slides another finger inside my body. My breath catches and my heart is racing as the pad of his thumb finds some secret rhythm against my clit I didn't know I needed. I'm getting so wet while he touches me. I can feel his hand getting slick with my wanting, and I feel my bones melting away, my legs shaking as something bursts inside me. As I stare deep into his grey eyes, he makes something explode. Something I've never felt before this moment. Something so fucking good that I can't control the sounds escaping my mouth. "Holy shit," I yell.
Who the fuck is this guy and how does he know what to do with my body? This bar trip feels like the best decision I've made in years.
He growls and nips at my neck. “That’s gorgeous, sweetheart. You’re so fucking sexy, coming on my hand.” My hips buck against his hand and waves of pleasure rip through my body. I am shameless, rolling my pelvis against him, desperate for more friction, more of everything. He has reached inside me and pulled this orgasm from somewhere deep, yanked it out of me while staring into my eyes. And I know once will never be enough. Except it has to be. This is just a one-time thing to help me forget.
My chest heaves as I gasp for breath. He lets go of my wrists and my arms sink to my sides. I don't notice him unzipping his pants, but from somewhere in my consciousness I hear him rip open a foil packet. He leans close to my ear, whispering, "Are you ready for the next one? Cuz that was just the beginning."
When I open my eyes and look down, I laugh out loud--a single, snorting huff of incredulity. Surely the massive piece of granite in his hand isn't real? "There's no way that fucking thing will fit inside me," I breathe.
His wolfish smile returns and he strokes his giant dick while he massages my thigh with his other hand. "I'm pretty excited to give it a try, babe." He nudges my legs wider and I keep my eyes locked on his as I feel the tip of him pressing against my entrance. I hold my breath as he starts to work his way inside. I'm surprised to realize how much I am looking forward to this. Whatever the hell just happened with his hand, I know his cock is going to bring a new level of heat. He slides inside me slowly, letting my body adjust to his size. And I feel so full, like he's invading every spare inch inside me.
He smiles as he inches deeper and I exhale, feeling myself stretch to accommodate him. "Look down," he says, and I do. I look between our bodies, past the bunched up material of my dress, to see myself fully seated against him, my body pressed against the dark hair of his crotch. And then he starts to move.
Suddenly everything my teammates ever giggled about makes sense. He's got his rock-hard arms wrapped around me, holding me tight against his massive chest while he fucks me, and I'm enveloped in the smell of him, the warm feel of him. Everything smells like pine and mint and tequila. God, I want to see what he has under his suit. I fist his shirt as the pleasure starts to build. My head falls back, and he nips at my throat with his straight, white teeth. My body craves what he is doing, and more. "More," I whisper, and he looks at me with those grey eyes. "Harder," I say, not knowing how I know that's what I need. But he complies, fucking me so that my hips slam against the wall, my ass bouncing from the tile. When I look over his shoulder into the mirror, it's just as he said it would be. I see his hips pistoning into my body and I see my face transformed by pleasure.
And then he slides a hand between our bodies, rubbing his giant thumb knuckle so gently against my needy bud, and I rocket over the top again. I hear myself screaming as my hips thrash against him. I pound my fists against his chest, forgetting myself, and then I bury my face into his neck. I start to suck on his earlobe, run my fingers through his tousled hair, feeling the sweat build along his neck as he works my body. "Yes," he grunts, moving faster and faster. "Fuck, that's so good. Holy fuck, baby." And then he stills as I feel his cock throbbing inside me.
I'm slick with sweat and weak from the exertion of the most intense orgasms I've ever experienced. I heave against the wall, feeling like I just raced a regatta. I slide over a bit, seeking the cool tile behind my back. "That was--"
He kisses me then, a different sort of kiss. Long and deep, sensual. Personal. "That was incredible," he says, and winks.
He walks over to the trash to throw out the condom and starts washing his hands. I stare at him in the mirror above the sink, marveling at his half-hard dick. "I can't believe that thing fit inside me," I say, adjusting my skirt.
He grins and hands me a paper towel. "You know, I never do get tired of hearing that." I wash my hands and dab cool water on my neck, smoothing out my hair while he tucks himself back in. I'm not sure what comes next, because I fulfilled my mission here, but it wasn't at all what I expected. He reaches for my hand, his thumb gently stroking my wrist. The thumb he just used to get me off. "So can I get your name at least? Maybe your number?"
I sigh, letting out a long breath. Shit. "Sorry,” I say, pulling back my hand. “That's not how this works." And, before I can change my mind, I open the door and march out of the bathroom, out of the club, into a cab toward home.