Hello friends. I have never submitted original writing on reddit before. This story is true, only her name is changed.
A little while ago I was on Tinder and met a beautiful Israeli girl. Let’s call her Ari. Ari is a knockout: beautiful green eyes, big natural tits, great skin, long legs and an amazing ass and perfect tight pussy. I’m a sucker for my own tribe. Ari was getting her doctorate in physical therapy; I was fresh out of prison and working for a management consulting firm across from the Bloomberg building between Lexington and Park. But no one knew I was a convict; on the outside, I’m just another young guy with a well-groomed beard and a nice suit swinging his big American dick through the city. I did a few years for computer hacking and burglary. No big deal. But I did learn a few new things about the psychology of bondage there. I have never submitted and I never will. You’d have to torture me. Even then, I won’t submit. Never. And don’t assume because I did time that I’m a bodybuilder; dummies lift weights in the yard while nerds like me manipulate the administration and run the whole facility. I spent most of my time cooking, reading, writing, working, getting visits, and talking on the phone.
Ari and I matched on Tinder. She wanted to meet for a date, so I invited her to a place near my apartment in Astoria. I don’t think we ever made it to the date. It’s wise to choose a location near your apartment (or hotel, or your camp, whatever) because closing is mostly a question of logistics. That was the first time I fucked her. I suppose, for her, it was memorable; I don’t remember. I was annoyed because when we were walking to my apartment she called me weird. That’s my only memory of that day: her beautiful face in the sun, a perfect weekend day in New York in the summer, and this bitch calls me weird. I hate when people call me weird. My mother used to call me weird. I’m not weird. I’m eccentric. I’m sure I took it out on her, or she wouldn’t have called back.
This story is about the second time. It’s memorable because I’m usually a one-and-done type. Why fuck the same slut again if the tension of seduction is the best part? You have to be some kind of heiress or opera singer to earn a round two. I usually don’t fuck those girls on the first date either. That’s different.
Bari called me a week or two later. I think it was at least eleven on a weeknight. A surprise, to be sure, but not a very special one. She told me she was drunk at a bar I knew but had never been inside. She told me there were some creepy guys there. She asked me to come get her. She was obviously drunk and teasing the Wall Street fuccbois. Rape baiting. Women are so strange. I got up from my computer and got on the train. I can’t leave a woman in distress. Plus, I was alone.
When I got to the bar there were a few guys hitting on her and she was the only girl there. They were outside smoking and she was way drunker than she had been on the phone. I hugged her, smirked at the failed males trying to rape some drunk confused lonely beauty on a weeknight, and got her in a cab.
I thought about where to go. This was a bar on the Lower East Side, so home was pretty far. I thought about hers in Brooklyn somewhere, but… roommates. She was all over me. So I told the cabbie, take us to 59th and Park. It’s the middle of the night. The security guard, an old cop building his retirement a little higher, was used to seeing me go in and out at odd hours. We were buddies.
I got her out of the cab and badged us in, then brought her up to the 31st floor. Good view of the river at sunrise. Loved that view. I undressed her and bent her over my desk. It was a shared office (The CTO, me, a junior admin, and two programmers). Plenty of room for activities.
I fucked her on and off for hours. I made her gag on my cock and pulled her hair. I pushed her facedown into the carpet and raped that tight pussy until I could barely think. Rage. Lust. Passion. My animal self. My goddess gave me permission to do this to her. This is the only thing I need. I am a man. My life has meaning. I came inside her and watched my seed drip down her smooth tan athletic legs.
I sent her home at 5am before the odd few employees who came in early so they could leave early without doing anything trickled in. I never saw her again. She married a man who looks a little like me, but prettier. Safer. I wonder if he gets to appreciate her like I did.
I doubt it.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/bojiti/a_fond_memory_bar_rescue_new_york_2014