The pub was fairly quiet for a Friday night but that suited me. I wanted to enjoy a drink and a change of scenery. I had my phone and my book and I intended to sit by the fire and either read or write depending which took my fancy.
The pub did good food. The menu was always fresh and different and tonight they had a Greek theme going on. I wasn’t that hungry but I couldn’t resist the plate of mixed starters alongside my glass of crisp cold wine.
I took my place on the sofa in front of the fire throwing my book down on the little table at my feet and dug in my bag for my phone. I sipped my wine and scrolled through my emails, they were all too boring for a Friday night so I turned to Twitter instead. It provided me with a mixture of the day’s news, also depressing for a Friday night, and a peek into other people’s lives.
The food came. Rich, think Taramasalata with freshly baked bread cut into slices, glossy olives with feta, stuffed vine leaves and little filo pastry parcels stuffed with spinach and feta. I continued to peruse my phone as I munched my way through the delectable feast.
“Would it be OK to sit here?”
He was standing at the end of the sofa holding a drink and when I looked up he kind of waved a hand indicating the space next to me. I am fairly sure a look of irritation must have passed across my face because he then said
“Sorry, I know it’s annoying. Just not many other places left to sit”
I looked round and realised that since I had arrived the pub had filled up a bit and most of the tables were indeed taken.
“Sure” I replied
I went back to my phone but out of the corner of my eye I found myself looking at my new companion. He was wearing black jeans and a black sweater. He was definitely a bit older than me; his hair was greying and had a bit of middle-aged spread. The thought made me smile because it is not a thing anyone wants someone to think about them and yet I found it attractive. When I glanced up to his face my eyes met his and I realised that maybe my appraisal of him had not been that discreet. He held my gaze for a split second and then smiled at me in such a way that I was fairly sure he knew I had been checking him out.
I reached for my book but in the process managed to knock over my drink which breaks against the plate making an alarming crashing sound and sending the remainder of my wine across the table and onto the man’s jeans. I fumble around for napkins, trying desperately to look like everything is under control in the hope that everyone who has stopped what they are dong and looking over at me will go back to their own business.
“I am so sorry” I mutter as I hand him one of the napkins for his trousers.
“It’s nothing” he replies “A few splashes of wine are not going to hurt me”
He gets up and heads to the bar while I continue to try to tidy up the carnage I have caused. When he returns he has a glass of wine in his hand and another bundle of napkins. He hands me the napkins and sits back on the sofa. When I am finally done he passes me the glass of wine.
Oh, you shouldn’t have.” I protest
I wanted to” he replies and there is something about the way he says it and how it looks at me that stops me from protesting more and instead I find myself saying
“Well, thank you, that is very kind of you”
You are welcome” and he watches me from a few moments as I take a sip of the wine and seemingly contented that I am going to drink it he slides his phone from his pocket and starts to look through it.
This is not my first rodeo when it comes to men in pubs and usually I am a pro at giving them the cold shoulder but instead of doing that I find myself doing the exact opposite
“My name is Joanna by the way” I blurt out
He considers me for a moment over his phone and then
“Frankie. Nice to meet you” and he holds out a hand. I nearly manage to spill the wine he has bought me as I reach out to shake it and he laughs in such a way that I find myself scowling at him.
“You think I am funny?” I ask
“No, I think you are adorable”
“Hmm, well I think it is rude to laugh at me like that”
“Oh do you now, and what else do you think Joanna?”
I am utterly stumped for a reply. Literally my mind has gone completely blank and I am just sitting there holding my wine looking into his face and then I feel it, the hot rush of blood to my cheeks as I realise that what I am thinking about is what would it be like for this man to kiss me
“You can find out if you like?” He says
“What?” I snap back
“What it is you are thinking. You can find out if you like”
“I have no idea what you mean, how on earth could you possible know what I am thinking” I prickle with indignation at his words
“It’s all over your face and your body language.”
Oh really? You are very sure of yourself.”
“Yes I am” he replies.
“Hmm” and I reach for my phone to try to put an end to the conversation wishing I had never told him my name.
He sits and watches me. I can feel his eyes on me and much to my horror I can feel my nipples tingle beneath my dress as a little shiver of what? Apprehension? Annoyance? No, it’s arousal, runs through me.
“Well go on then” I challenge. If you are so clever what was I thinking?”
He leans across the sofa towards me.
“You were wondering what it would be like to kiss me, and what my hands would feel like running up your thigh and parting your legs and what my mouth would feel like on your neck and breasts and how hard would my cock be as you unbuttoned my jeans and if we would make it to the bedroom or would I fuck you right there in the hallway. The answer to that last bit is both by the way. I would have you right there in the hallway and then take upstairs to the bedroom and fuck you again”
There as a pause. I feel like I should say something but my mind is full of images inspired by what he has just said and the only words I can think of to say are OK
“Shall I kiss you Joanna? Right here, right now, in front of all these people?”
Much to my surprise I nod my consent to him and he shifts in his seat and reaches over and takes my face in his hands and kisses me. It is not a soft peck on the lips but a proper deep full kiss that has me opening my mouth and pushing my body into his touch and when he finally pulls away I am breathless with longing and desire.
“Let’s go” he says and he reaches for my hand and pulls me to my feet. I scoop up my phone and my book and follow him out of the pub.
We walk the few streets to my house in silence. I can feel the wetness between my thighs and my heart is thumping in my chest at the thought of what I am about to do. I find my door keys. As I open the door the cat dashes out but I barely notice her. He follows me in and shuts the door behind him. I go to head into the kitchen but he grabs my wrist and pulls me back into his arms and then he is kissing me again, like he did in the pub but more, and his hands are pulling at my dress, trying to ease it up my thighs and I am pushing my body into his, rubbing up against him like a desperate little whore. He pins my arms above my head and with one holds me up against the wall like that. “So fucking sexy” he mumbles
With his free hand he tugs my dress up and pulls the damp gusset of my panties to one side. His fingers slide through the sticky moisture that is clinging to my cunt, he circles my clit and my hips jerk in response and then he is pushing his fingers into me and I am grinding down on his hand and he laughs again and calls me a desperate little bitch and he is right. I am desperate for him, for this, for exactly what he described to me in the pub.
He fucks me there in the hallway. Turning me round and pushing me up against the wall he unbuttons his fly, pulls up my dress and guides himself into me. I brace myself against the wall with one hand and with the other I reach down and rub at my clit, digging my nail in slightly just the way I like it and within moments my cunt is tightening around his dick in a series of spasms that make him groan and then it is his turn and he digs his fingers into the flesh on my hips as he buries himself deep inside me and empties his balls into my cunt.
As he slips from my body I am laughing at the sheer joy and amazingness of what has just happened.
Fuck that was good, Frankie, we should do that more often” I laugh as I turn and kiss him. His dick is still hanging from his pants and I bend down and kiss the tip
“Shall I make coffee?” I ask
“No, fuck coffee. We have not finished this game yet. I told you, once in the hall and then again in the bed, now get up those stairs you dirty little bitch or next time I will pick someone else up in the pub and leave you to your book.
“You wouldn’t dare” I respond
“Try me” he says and pulls me upstairs to our bedroom.
Note: This piece of fiction is for the Kink of the Week topic that is Role Play. Last time this topic was covered I wrote a piece of fiction that was based on a fantasy I have (Dirty Sexy Money) and this time I decided to do the same thing. We have talked about doing a version of this story with him pretending to pick me up at a pub and take me home and fuck me as if we didn’t know each other. We have not done it mainly because I am the one who worries that I wouldn’t be any good at the pretending and that it would all fall apart as a result but the more time goes on the more I think maybe we should just give it a go because if it did work then it would be seriously fucking hot.