I Don’t Pick Up Guys At Bars

I entered the darkened room, uncertain as to what to expect. I could hear the sound of a low bass beat from the apartment above, but other than that there was no other noise. I hesitated for a few moments, and turned around to exit through the very door I had entered through only seconds before.

“Wait,” came the voice through the darkness. “Why are you leaving?”

I stopped, and tried to catch my breath before answering. “I’m not sure I should have come here at all.” I hated that my voice sounded so shaky and small. “I told you before; I don’t usually do things like this.”

“But you want to, right?”

I couldn’t deny that. My mind traveled back to just two nights previous, when I sat at the bar, alone, drinking my rum and coke and looking at the dancers on the floor as they gyrated to the music. I had subconsciously been swaying with the beat of the music, when the same voice that was speaking to me now had interrupted my thoughts to ask me to dance. I had simply nodded, and without even looking to see who had offered the invitation, I had led him onto the dance floor.

When I got there, I had turned around to see whom my partner would be. Just as turned, there was a dramatic pause in the music, almost as though I had been on a movie set and everything was planned just so. I had to admit, I was turned on almost the moment I laid eyes upon the man who was soon moving to the driving beat of the music.

Always having been a person who felt more comfortable dancing than anything else, I immediately began to match his steps, feeling the throbbing bass deep in the center of my womanhood. My girlfriends had always made fun of me; they all said I could probably orgasm just standing in front of a live band. The truth was, dancing to me was like having sex in public. Moving my hips, sweat trickling down my body, the feeling of someone else’s hot flesh pressed against mine, and all the while that vibration of the bass drum driving into the core of my being.

When the song ended, I took a moment to catch my breath, and asked him if he wanted a drink. He followed me to the bar, watched me order, and after I took a long drink directly from the glass, he looked at me with this strangely intense gaze. With his eyes holding mine, he took the glass from my fingertips, and slowly licked the place where my lips had just been.

Without losing my gaze, he tipped the glass and drained it. I could almost feel his kiss before it happened as he set the glass down and leaned toward me. And my God, what a kiss. He skipped all of the gentle coaxing and nudging, simply dipping his tongue into my helpless mouth with a suggestive rhythm. When he pulled away, I had tried to look away in my embarrassment, but he rather roughly turned my face back towards his.

“This is my address. Be there on Sunday night. Don’t disappoint me.” He pressed a piece of paper into my hand and turned to leave.

“But wait, I-”

“You what?”

“I don’t do this. I don’t pick up guys in bars.”

“I know,” he said. He leaned forward and nipped my bottom lip. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

And he had left. I sat there until the bar closed, and I had wandered around for the next two days, looking at his address so many times I had it memorized. I had stood in the mirror, trying to see what he had seen, trying to rationalize things, trying to tell myself to forget this and go on with life, but something in the way this man had touched me made me forget anything close to rational and get into a cab and go to the address printed on the scrap of paper.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” The voice again, I wished that I would quit jumping inside every time he spoke.

“Why is it so dark in here?” I turned again and put my back against the door. Again I wondered what the hell I was doing here.

“I like the dark. Heightens all the other senses. Would you like a drink? I have rum. Anything you want, my dear.” His voice was low and intense; just the sound of it dampened my panties.

“I don’t know. Why did you invite me here?”

He chuckled. “Why did you come?” He asked softly. “I invited you here because I intend to fuck you.”

My breath quickened at his blunt reply. Normally such crude language would have sent me reeling in the opposite direction, but with everything else I would normally do so far from where I was, his choice of words seemed very appropriate. Frankly, he was right; why was I here if it wasn’t to get fucked?

Suddenly, I felt quite brave. “Where are you?” I asked.

“Right here in front of you. Go ahead, the path is wide open.” I understood the double meaning of his words. “Come on, all you have to do is take a few small steps, and you won’t be all alone.” My body moved forward. Half a moment later, my knee grazed what felt like a sofa. “Mmmm, there you are. I thought you’d never decide.”

“Decide?” I asked.

“Whether to follow your mind, or something considerably lower.” As he said this, I felt his hand caress my lower tummy. My muscles contracted and I gasped softly.

“Who are you?” I whispered. “Why me? Why did you choose me?”

“I am a man who wants a woman. Why you? Because you have passion dripping from your fingertips. And I chose you because you wanted to be chosen.” His hand left my stomach. “What are you going to do about it?”

Instead of answering, I knelt down. I extended a shaking hand and lowered it until it touched warm flesh. I moaned softly as I recognized that I had my hand on his far hip. I ran my hand up his side, my fingers rejoicing in the feel of his skin. Soon I couldn’t help but actively caress his body with both of my hands. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest; my breathing was so rapid I felt dizzy. I let my fingertips graze over his nipples, they followed his stomach down to where I could sense his erection straining toward me. All at once, I became shy. My hands stilled at the first wisps of crisp hair.

“Something wrong?” I could hear the mocking smile in his voice. “That’s okay, I’m very proud of you. Would you like me to take over now?”

I let out a huge sigh. “Yes, yes please.” I tried to be disgusted with how much I wanted this man I hardly knew, but couldn’t. “Please, take me.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re asking?”

For the first time that night, I didn’t hesitate. “Yes, take m-”

Before I could finish, he abruptly sat up and literally grabbed me by the waist. All at once I was lying on my back, his hands were pinning mine to the couch, and his mouth was assaulting mine. I nearly cried out in pleasure. I felt him run something soft through my hands. “Do you mind?” He murmured. I realized that it was a scarf, I assumed he intended on tying my hands with it. I mumbled some sort of positive response, and he straddled my body and proceeded to gently but firmly bind my hands to something heavy above my head. His hands traileddown my arms and rested lightly on my breasts. I could hardly breathe. His fingers softly traced tiny circles around my nipples, causing them to become so erect it almost hurt.

“Please,” I whispered.

“Please what?”

I whimpered. “Say it.” I bit my lip and whimpered again. “Say it, or I’ll stop.”

“Oh God, please!” I was coming unglued, I wanted him so badly. But to hear him speak so forwardly was one thing, to say such things myself was something else entirely.

He leaned forward to kiss me, and stopped millimeters from my parted lips. “Say. It.”

My eyes flew open and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted this man, I wanted to be naked, and I wanted him to “Fuck me! Oh God, please! Fuck me now!”

It was like I had unleashed a pent up beast. My shirt was torn from my body in moments, and his beautifully rough mouth was sucking my breast so hard that pain was coupled with pleasure so intense I thought I would die. His fingers dug into my hips, and I could feel his hardness pushing against my wet crotch. I pressed against him opened my legs to allow better contact. For the first time, he moaned out loud.

He raked his fingers down my sides, and pulled at my pants. I lifted my hips, and reveled in how good it felt to finally be rid of my clothes. He wrestled with them for a moment to completely free me from my wrapping, and slowly he crawled back up my body until his face was in front of mine. He rubbed his lips against my mouth; every time I tried to kiss him, he pulled back, only to return and continue his torment. He slowly lowered his body until it’s wonderful weight was pressing me into the plush couch. Then the slow rotation of his hips began. In my mind I saw those hips on the dance floor of the bar, and I matched his rhythm. Instinctively, I raised my hips to allow him to enter me, but he pushed them back down. “In time, darling, in time,” he said.

He trailed kisses down my body, and as he got closer and closer to my wet center, my body grew more and more tense. I strained against my bindings; I so wanted to guide his mouth to where I needed him most. But, he needed no guiding. He found the hot, wet nub and slowly ran his tongue up its length. Then, slowly and deliberately, he sucked it in and out of his warm mouth. He flattened his tongue against me, and rubbed it with the same rhythm that he had started before. I couldn’t help it, I opened my thighs as far as I could, allowing him free reign over my already vulnerable body. While his tongue continued to make love to me, he ran his hands up my body to my breasts. It felt like three people were in the room with me, there were so many sensations at once that I felt like I couldn’t take it all in. He withdrew one hand from my breast, and my disappointment quickly faded as I felt his fingers caressing my soaked hole. With agonizing slowness, he entered me, never stopping his tongue’s tireless rhythm. He circled my entrance with his finger and entered me again, beginning the fucking he had promised me. I could feel my muscles tightening, and I knew I would come soon. He sucked my clit even harder, nipping it gently and then kissing the tingles of pain away, all the while ramming me with three fingers of the hand that wasn’t tweaking my nipples. “Tell me how you feel, baby,” he said.

“Oh, God, I’m gonna come,” I moaned. Feeling wanton and sexy and like I could do no wrong, I said “I’m gonna come all over your fingers. Oh God, you fuck me so well.”

He moaned with my clit still in his hot mouth, and increased the intensity of the finger fucking he was delivering. It felt like every nerve in my body was gathering around his tongue and fingers. I could feel little spasms beginning in my stomach, and I nearly screamed out in ecstacy as the waves became more intense. Then, all at once, the strongest orgasm of my life rocked my body. I ripped my hands free and plunged my fingers into his hair, pressing him harder against my throbbing pussy. I could feel my thighs shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. Abruptly, his fingers left me and he rammed his erection deep into me, burying it in my quaking hole. I could feel myself clamping down on his cock, and I pulled his wet mouth to mine so I could taste myself there. I plunged my tongue into his mouth again and again, matching his fuck rhythm stroke for stroke. He pulled my legs up over his shoulders, causing him to plunge even deeper into me, much deeper than I thought was possible. Every stroke caused a delicious combination of pain and pleasure.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more amazing, I could feel his cock hardening even more as he built toward his climax. I could feel my body responding and as the waves of my second orgasm began, he threw his head back and called out.

He dropped his forehead to mine and allowed my thighs to slide down his arms to rest beside his. We were both breathing heavily; the smell of our sex filled the room. I looked into his eyes, and saw the same intense look he had given me before. Unsure what to say, exactly, I said simply what I was feeling.

“Thank You.”