We make plans to go out for drinks just a few blocks from his place, at a convenient little dive bar where one of the bartenders makes us extremely strong drinks because she’s the best and she likes us. It’s a chill place with a lot of regulars who don’t ask too many questions.
We decide to walk over since it’s nice enough, getting our first drinks and afterward heading for the pool table. There’s a mini bar-like-counter near the table along with a few stools, so it’s a good place to hang out that also offers a degree of seclusion. He requested the particular top I’m wearing, a low-cut black shoulder cut out satin-y thing that I’ve paired with a cute purple and black skirt and heels. I didn’t bother with panties.
Bar nights like this are always just extended foreplay. We chat, usually suggestively, while I just *happen* to lean over directly across from him when he’s trying to line up a shot (I never said I play fair…) and we both touch and tease as the night progresses and we get tipsier. At one point I bend far over the table to make a shot and I’m rewarded with a dark whisper, his lips right next to my ear: “If I ever get that pool table and you bend over like that again… well, we’ll see if you can still make that shot with my cock buried in you.”
Usually I reply with something saucy but in this particular instance I can only give him a look that could probably set something on fire. My cunt’s been wet pretty much since he picked me up and by now it’s throbbing with arousal. Being bent over a pool table and fucked hard sounds pretty appealing… but there are still too many people in this bar. In the meantime, whenever he’s close enough, I start stroking his cock through his shorts, grinning at the looks he gives me that promise I’m going to get it later. At one point I drop a napkin and later in the evening kneel down in front of him to pick it up… my hand is on his zipper and I desperately want his cock in my mouth, but I’m thwarted by a passing bar patron.
We take turns getting drinks, until at one point I try pawning my turn off on him by handing him the cash. He turns it back on me with a challenge, saying: “If you’re good and go get this round, I’ll bury two fingers in your cunt when you get back.”
Needless to say, that’s exactly the kind of motivation I’m looking for. When I get back he laughs a little and says, “I wasn’t sure you’d actually do it…”
“Oh, I think you know enough by now not to make any kind of challenge you’re not prepared for me to accept,” I tell him smugly, sitting back in my stool, legs spreading ever so slightly. He stands next to me, pretending to be interested in whatever nonsense is playing on the bar TV, hand sliding up my skirt. He teases me first, finger sliding against the opening of my cunt, darting around my clit. Finally he presses one, then two fingers inside me, pumps them deliciously, thumb still stroking my clit. I bite my lip and try to look casual, taking a sip of my drink while he finger fucks me in the middle of a bar that still has half a dozen people in it.
He pulls his hand away after a moment or two, licking my juices off his fingers. “You’re soaked,” he says, voice low.
“Oh, believe me, I know… I have been for a while.”
We don’t stay much longer after that, finishing the game we’re playing and heading out. It’s still fairly nice, so we stroll further than necessary, not going directly back to his place… his shorts unzip easily and my hand is on his cock, stroking him as we wander through the darkened streets. Our mantra for the summer is “no going to jail” because we’re the kind of horny fucks who want it whenever we can get it, and both of us have a public sex kink. Fortunately, it’s a Sunday night; there’s no one around at twelve-thirty AM in his quiet little neighborhood, and I’m free to work his cock as much as I want while we walk.
We end up at the boat ramp just a few blocks from his house, a tall retaining wall blocking a lot of the streetlight. We’re barely ensconced in the shadows when I drop into a crouch and start sucking his cock, moaning around it and swallowing him to the hilt, because I’ve been thinking about doing this for hours now. His hand tangles in my hair and he fucks my face for a moment or two before pulling me up, pushing me against the wall, and burying his cock in me like he promised/threatened to earlier. I struggle not to be too loud. We’re still outside, after all. The street is maybe twenty feet away. If a car drives by…
“Fuck, you’re so wet, you want this so bad, don’t you?” he groans as he pounds into me. I scrabble for purchase against the wall, bending over a little more, exactly as desperate for it as he thinks.
“Yes please,” I moan, and he fucks me harder, hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. I can’t get enough. It feels amazing, his hands on my hips, the roughness of the wall I’m pressed against, his weight enveloping me every time he plows into me, knowing at any second someone could wander by and see him taking me… I come quickly, muffling my cries with my hand, and he gives me a couple more hard thrusts before he pulls out.
“C’mon,” he says urgently. “I want to keep fucking you somewhere I can hear you. Think that’ll hold you until we get back?”
I smirk. “Maybe. If we hurry.”
As it turns out, we’re *both* pretty quick to move when properly motivated.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8ll7mq/fm_a_little_public_debauchery
is there a “public debauchery continued in private” cumming soon?