1. Unexpected Endings


    Date: 9/23/2015, Categories: Flash Erotica, Author: HeraTeleia, Rating: 29, Source: LushStories

    This was not what she intended at all when she walked into the Yale Street pub. She’d meant to have a soothing after work shot or two of Drambuie, call it good, and head home. Not this. Certainly not this. Yet here she was, bent over for all to see, in the half-lit darkness of the alley behind the bar--she wasn’t even sure it was the same one that she’d walked into. Forehead and hands were placed against the crumbling brick wall, black pleated skirt flipped up over her back, pale pink blouse torn asunder in the eagerness to feel skin on skin, breasts spilling out of her bra, and hands--male hands, strong and certain--held her hips, pulling her panties aside, exposing her bare pussy and ample ass for any passerby to see. He’d chosen the seat next to her customary barstool, sliding his hand over hers as if he owned her, as if they’d known each other for years, and this casual assertiveness caused something in her to... well, respond. Her breathing and heart rate had changed, her pupils dilating. These signs of arousal did not go unnoticed by either the bartender or the cause of these events. His smile at her was knowing and curious all at once, and somehow, her carefully constructed walls of protection against strangers (particularly strange men in bars) crumbled as surely as the ice in his Glenlivet. Without a word, he placed a bill on the mahogany and brass bar, then took her left hand in his right and led her towards the rear exit. She thought perhaps that he wanted to ...
    dance, but this really wasn’t a dancing sort of place and his swift and sure pace, the strength in his hand mirrored in his stride, made her blush with anticipation. The door marked “EXIT ONLY” swung open at his seeming insistence, although she knew that he was holding it open for her, and her alone. It was once they were outside, the light Seattle mist of rain falling on them, her blouse clinging in a most exposing way to her bra, that he finally spoke. “You don’t come here often, my dear. You are looking for something. Do you want that something? I can give it to you, right here, right now.” His hands were unbuttoning her blouse now, exposing the pale cream of her breasts, and she reached up, impatient, tearing the remaining buttons asunder to clatter on the cobblestone street. “Please.” One word. That was it. He turned her to face the graffitied wall, and she felt the cool air and rain falling on her ass, and then his fingers pulling her panties aside, one hand still covering hers. She was aware of a growing crowd of men, watching, stroking, heard their obscenities, and she was very aware that she did not care, not a whit, as she felt his fingers spreading her open and... oh fuck... sinking into her sopping cunt. "Fuck, please, fuck me..." At this, she felt sharp pain and then pleasure as he forced her wanton pussy open with three fingers, stroking her softening, wanting cervix. Desperate, really. She whimpered with need as he pulled his fingers from her grasping cunt, sighing ...
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