The Milf Alone in the Bar | MILF, Rape, Rough, Creampie

**Hey guys! This is just a short story that I wrote last night. I’ve been meaning to write more but this lockdown has kinda bummed me out and the flame just hasn’t been there…**

**Hopefully soon I’ll get back in to the habit of things :D Anyway, enjoy!**

Denise ordered another gin and tonic. She had downed it as soon as the bartender let go of the glass. Wiping her mouth, she ordered another one.

The young guy looked at her, smiled with pity. ‘You sure? Why don’t I just call you a cab?’

‘Don’t talk to me like that. Like I’m a fuckin’ drunk.’ She pulled a ten-dollar note from her purse and slid it across the bar. ‘Here. Get something for yourself while you’re at it.’

He sighed and took the money. He turned around to the shelf of spirits behind him and started to prepare her drink.

Denise rubbed her eyes, looked around the near-empty bar. It was a shithole. The type of place that had red neon lights and big, bright signs telling you what types of crappy beer they were selling. The same crappy beer that you could smell when you entered, the same beer that covered the dirty carpet and made it squelch under your feet. The only other customer was an older guy, sat in a booth across from her. He was deep in thought and his table was littered in bottles. Occasionally he’d glance at Denise.

She thought nothing of it. She hadn’t thought much of anything in the last nine hours. Today had started like any other day. Denise and her *loving* husband, Phillip, had woken up to a sunny Wednesday morning. She had leant over, saw his hard cock, and gave him a morning blowjob. She got up and showered. Then, she took their two kids to school. After waving goodbye at the school gates Denise went for a long jog. After just turning forty-one, she wanted to stay fit, so she jogged every other day. This gave her a youthful and firm body, even if she did have to put up with her neighbours checking out her ass and tits as she bounced down the street.

After this jog, she was supposed to be meeting up with her sister for a coffee, but she called and cancelled. Denise’s nephew had the flu and her sister needed to look after him. No problem, she thought, guess I’ll just go home. Needed to finish the laundry anyway. As she turned onto the road where they lived, she noticed that Phillip was home… four hours earlier than usual.

Thinking nothing of it, Denise entered the house. Her husband was nowhere to be seen. That’s when she heard the moan come from upstairs. From their bedroom. A high-pitched girly squeal that sent shivers down Denise’s spine that then turned to fear in her stomach. She started up the stairs on tiptoes, knowing what was happening in her bedroom, but still scared to confront it. As she got closer, she heard them speak.

‘You like that? Huh? You like my cock?’ Phillip grunted in between wet slaps.

A young female voice replied. ‘Yes. Daddy… please fuck me…’

Denise went numb as she reached the landing. She found her hand on her bedroom door. She pushed it open gently. On their bed, the same bed that he’d impregnated her in, was her husband fucking a barely legal teen doggystyle. The bitch was blonde and tanned, her tits jiggled with every thrust. Denise stood in the doorway watching, it took a few seconds for them to notice her. It felt like an eternity.

‘Oh fuck.’ The girl said when she spotted her.

Phillip yelped and pulled out of the teen’s pussy, his dick was gleaming with her juices. In a scramble, the girl tried to crawl away and cover her naked body, and Phillip stood up off the bed. Denise tried to speak to no avail, this betrayal had turned her words to a sad scream.

‘Please, honey, it’s not what it looks like…’ Phillip said, ‘It’s…’ He was shaking trying to figure out an excuse.

Denise slapped him across the cheek. Then again. She started beating on his chest. ‘Fuck you.’ She kept repeating. Phillip didn’t fight back, looking at his wife with genuine shame and regret. Denise needed to get out. Get away from him. She pushed him away and left the bedroom.

As she ran down the stairs she heard the teen say, ‘You said she wasn’t gonna be coming home until later. That’s what you said.’

Phillip didn’t reply, he’d left the bedroom, chasing his wife. ‘Please, honey… I’m sorry.’ He screamed after her as she left the house and got into her car. She reversed off the drive and sped away down the road.

She drove the rest of the day and into the evening. She drove out of town and into the wilderness, not knowing where she was going. She didn’t want to go to her sister’s house. The thought of explaining what had happened sickened her. So she just kept driving, until at the side of the road she spotted a sign for a bar. She wasn’t a massive drinker, but after seeing her husband ploughing a teen in their bed, she guessed a few strong drinks wouldn’t hurt. Numb the pain at least.

Half a dozen gin and tonics later, here she was. In a seedy bar, her phone switched off, too drunk to drive home. As she emptied another glass, she thought about her children, waiting for Mum to pick them up. She wondered what lie Phillip was going to tell them.

‘Buy you another drink?’ An upper-class voice said.

She turned, the older guy from the booth. ‘Yeah. Why not?’

He looked to the bartender, said, ‘Two more gin and tonics. Thanks.’ He sat down on the stool next to her. ‘So, why is a thing like you drinking all alone on a Wednesday night?’

‘My husband cheated on me.’ She surprised herself. The alcohol had loosened her tongue.

‘Husband? You look too young to be married.’

She smiled at his silly flirt. ‘Ha.’

‘No, seriously.’ He smirked, patted her knee through her slim jogging bottoms. She’d had no time to change. ‘I would say, you’re twenty-seven, at most.’

‘Add fourteen.’ She gently moved his hand away. She was drunk, but not *that* drunk.

‘That’s insane.’ He inched closer as the bartender placed their drinks down. They both drank quickly. He’d been drinking all night too, she could smell the stale beer on him, but he seemed relatively sober. He was big, maybe fifty, and bald. Not due to hair loss though, it looked as if he shaved his head for the style. He wore an expensive-looking, but slightly crumpled suit.

‘So, what are you? Some sort of businessman?’ Denise noticed the lights floated queerly above them, she shook herself out of it.

‘You could say that.’ He drank, looking at her. She had thrown a light jacket on that had scrunched up in the backseat of her car, underneath she still wore her grey sports bra, showing her toned midriff. He inched closer again. ‘So, how are you gonna get home?’

‘I dunno… hadn’t thought that far ahead.’

‘Well, you’re in no shape to drive.’

She laughed, ‘Who are you? My father?’

‘I could give you a lift.’

‘You’re drunk too. I’ve seen you downing beers all night.’

‘I can hold my liquor.’ He said. ‘So, how about it?’

Denise thought about how easy it would be to say *yes.* Jumping in a strange man’s car, not knowing if he’s on the level or not. It would be like going back to her teen days. Her husband had been a strange, lonely man at a bar when she’d met him, and they’d been happily married for going on fifteen years.

Happily married until today.

Suddenly, her maternal instincts kicked in and she thought about all the advice that her own Mum had given her and that she now passed on to her two daughters. Don’t trust strangers. And *definitely* don’t get in their cars. She missed them. God, she missed her children so much.

‘I’m sorry…’ She said, taking her bag and standing up. ‘I… need to get home. I’ll call a cab.’

He snatched her hand. ‘I’ll drop you off home, it’s fine. *Really.*’ He tried to pull her closer. If she wasn’t drunk she’d have slapped him. ‘Come on. Have another drink.’

Pulling herself away, she said, ‘No. Thank you. My kids will be wondering where I am…’ She took a step away and nearly fell over. The gin had turned her legs to jelly and her mind was hazy and confused. And, she urgently needed to pee. ‘Hey…’ She got the bartender’s attention. ‘Is there… is there a toilet anywhere around here?’

He was cleaning a mug with a rag. ‘Yeah. Down there, third door on the left.’ He pointed to a corridor at the back.

‘Thanks.’ Denise slurred and walked over, failing at staying in a straight line. The first door was blank, the second read “GENTS” and the third read “LADIES”. She pushed the door open and was blinded by a white fluorescent light. It buzzed as if a hundred insects were circling her head. There was on a cubicle in the middle of the room, the wooden door opened with a flimsy creak. She locked it behind her and peed for what felt like a lifetime. She pulled her jogging bottoms back up and washed her hands.

She splashed the cold water on her face and looked in the mirror. Her cheeks were red and rosy, and her hair dark brown hair was tied up in a ponytail. She blinked a few times, trying to grasp at sobriety. The gin had done a number on her. When she went to open the door back to the bar, she heard footsteps on the other side. Then she felt pressure as someone else pushed the door open.

Denise yelped as the bald man forced the door open, it smacked her in the nose and she fell backwards onto her ass. The light blinding her as she looked at the ceiling, she tried to stand up, be her jelly legs wouldn’t let her.

The man was imposing, nearly filling up the whole room. He shut the door to the bar and locked it. He looked down at Denise. ‘I’m sick to death of all you bitches playing hard to get.’

She scrambled back into the cubicle, inadvertently trapping herself. ‘Please…’ She knew what he wanted. His feral eyes. His mad grin. The bulging in his suit pants. She knew what he intended to do. ‘Please… don’t…’

‘You come to a seedy bar and get drunk. Dressed like that?’ He unbuckled his belt. ‘You should’ve known this is what would happen.’ He let his pants and underwear fall, letting loose a thick cock. It was veiny and throbbing. ‘Now, come here.’

Denise screamed as he leant down and grabbed her. Her arms flailed madly at him. He didn’t seem to notice her pathetic attacks. With one movement, he hooked his fingers around her jogging bottoms and panties and violently pulled them down. Then, he grabbed both of her legs and spread them, leaving her pussy exposed. He shuffled closer so her legs couldn’t close and wrapped his hand around her throat.

Denise felt him enter her. She cried out as he leant down and started to kiss her, rhythmically moving his hips. The smell of beer on his breath filled up her nostrils and made her gag. His wet tongue moved around her face, trying to get into her mouth.

‘I was gonna take you back to my place.’ He said, fucking her hard. ‘I wanted to fuck you nice and slow on my bed. I would’ve been so gentle.’

She shrieked as he went balls deep, spreading her pussy further than it had ever been.

He continued, ‘But you had to be a bitch.’ He bit her neck. ‘So now I have to fuck you here instead. Fuck you like a whore.’ Groaning and grunting, his attack became more violently. His thrusts were sharp and quick. Each hurt more than the last. ‘But I gotta say… You’re pretty fuckin’ tight for a milf.’

She felt his cock jerk in her ruined pussy, then he pulled out. He stood up and pulled her up with him. Spinning her around, he bent her over the dirty toilet, then pushed her down so her ass was facing him. ‘I prefer doggy.’ He laughed, then entered her again. She winced as her pussy stretched, trying to accommodate her attacker. Tears rolled down her cheeks when he reached under her and started to pinch and caress her breasts through the sports bra. He leant down and she felt his breathing on her ear. An arm came up and wrapped around her throat, brutally choking the air from her.

As he brutalized her and she wept, Denise began to miss her husband. She wanted Phillip here, to save her. She no longer cared that he fucked that teen. She’d forgive him instantly if came into the bar and saved her from this torture.

Denise let out a moan of pain and hopelessness, and she felt her tormentor twitch in her abused hole. His breathing became scattered and his thrusts hardened. He roared in ecstasy and exploded deep in her pussy. His fucking continued, like he was making sure all of his cum was stuffed as deep as possible into her cunt. It was warm and sticky. She felt it in her womb, she felt it tarnishing her. He gave one last thrust and groaned, his balls slapped against her.

He pulled out and pushed her away. She fell off the toilet and banged her head on the cubicle wall. Denise made no sound. The bald man stood up and straightened his suit. After pulling his trousers up, he reached for his phone and started to take pictures of Denise, drunk and abused on the floor. His white seed leaked out of her red pussy.

‘My mates are gonna love these pics.’ He said and laughed.

Denise’s mind was a blur. Her head hurt, her pussy was numb and throbbing. The world was spinning and she wanted to be sick. She wanted to stand up, to call the police, get to a hospital. She can’t get pregnant. Not from this. Not from rape. The door opened and closed. Her attacker had left her alone. Her arms and legs refused to move. She was slipping away. The alcohol and the attack had drained her.

Denise fell into a deep and dark sleep on that piss-stained floor, abused and battered, filled with a strange man’s cum.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fw0cs2/the_milf_alone_in_the_bar_milf_rape_rough_creampie