I have never been the kind of person who can flirt with friends of my friends at their party. I must have turned down dozens of promising advances simply because they were too close to existing nodes of my social network. I don’t know; maybe it is the potential for augmented shame in rejection. Maybe I am just not good at reading others’ body language. Maybe, in all honesty, I just have commitment issues.
This is why I cherish the opportunities to fuck that pop up in times and places where I a complete stranger. It is hot to hear a man whisper your name when he is cumming, but it can be hotter to hear the fake name you gave him.
I was sitting by myself in a restaurant booth when he sat across me in his own. We held eye contact briefly, unafraid to acknowledge each other. It was the start of a game of flirting, traditional and cliched: I pushed my hair back, baring the skin of my neck, chest, and shoulders, all uncovered by my strapless dress. He smiled placidly, looking at me longer than he looked at the menu. I crossed my long legs, letting the fabric rise to reveal more than was needed. He shifted in his seat, angling to face me directly. The game was only interrupted by his chat with the waitress… and by a work email I could not ignore.
The game, however, was only about to escalate. When the waitress brought my meal, she whispered that the handsome gentleman across the room had paid for it. I was a bit shocked. If my friends had been around, that would have been enough for me to abort the mission. But he knew nothing about me, and it was my turn. I thanked her and I got up, placed my plate on his table, and stretched out my hand.
“My name is Anna.”
My name is not Anna. It was just the name I wanted him to grunt when I had his dick in my throat.
We made out in the stairs up to his apartment, in front of the door, behind it. His hands were strong and immediately pushed my strapless dress to the floor, feeling up my bare breasts, my butt, playing with my underwear. He was a bit taller than me, a few years older, and there was a careful roughness to his demeanor.
“Do you like having your cock sucked?”
He laughed, almost offended by the question. I kneeled down and looked up at him, pulling down his pants and underwear. He had a very respectable cock — long but not above average, challenging girth. He was probably used to girls praising it when they gave him head. I decided to praise him with my tongue instead.
I stuck out my tongue to flick his head on my way in, taking as much of him in my mouth as I could while I maintained eye contact. Not all of him, but maybe more than average. He grunted and moved his hand to my cheek, eager to feel the display of my skills. I moved in and out, teeth covered, for a couple of minutes. The amount of precum told me he would cum if I kept up the motion, so I moved my hand to the base of his shaft and advocated for my own pleasure instead.
“If I make you cum with my mouth, will you still be able to fuck me tonight?”
“Don’t worry about that. I generally don’t cum from head.”
“Not even when you get deepthroated?”
He grinned. I know nothing about him and he knows nothing about me, but I can tell you we both live for moments of efficient communications. He put his hand under my chin to drag me up on my feet, fondling and pushing me back into the wall. I kneeled down, ready to try again, and he held my wrists behind my head. I looked up at him as he started to face fuck me, hitting my throat with each of his thrusts. He thrived on my gags and his precum and my saliva ran down to my chest.
I don’t know if he had lied, but he didn’t take long to very much fill my mouth with his cum.
“So, Anna, I want to know more about you. I have never seen you in the area before.”
“Well, I just moved in, I like sports, and I like to get slut-shamed while I get fucked. How about yourself?”
Maybe he knew I gave him two truths and a lie, maybe he didn’t, but he did know to distill what’s important from what does not really matter. When he recovered his erection, we moved to his bed, naked. I got on all fours and he knelt behind me. His cock rubbed against my entrance while his hands pushed my cheeks apart.
“Such a dilemma. I don’t know where to start, which one to stretch out first.”
He slammed into my pussy, which at that point was perfectly ready. His girth, at that speed, built immediate pressure in my insides. I gasped. He slapped my ass and leaned in close to me, caressing my hips, grabbing onto my waist.
“So you like being reminded how slutty you are, hm? Flirting with me at the diner because what you really wanted was cum for dessert.”
He was so good at it I couldn’t even respond. My insides did, squeezing him immediately. He had come once already, so he just kept fucking me, enjoying but without having to pace himself either.
“And now look at you, Anna, taking my cock in your pussy. What if I just fuck your slutty big ass instead?”
I moaned with no inhibitions. I truly was a slut for this stranger’s cock, and he was going to make me cum around it. His hand grabbed my hair and pulled on it, arching my back while he fucked me, and leaning in to whisper in my ear.
“Cum for me, little slut. Your pussy is begging for it. I can tell you’re so close.”
I came around him, grateful for the meal, for the cum, and for the fuck. I rested my face on the bed, satisfied, and he continued to pump in my pussy for a few more seconds. He grunted and pulled out, stroking his dick and coming a second time — this time all over my ass.
It was late and we laid down, silent. I pretended to fall asleep. An hour or two later, I got up and left while he slept.
He was a great fuck, but I never returned to his bed or to that diner. I needed new faces and places to cultivate the pleasure of being unknown.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/yg14dj/my_welcome_to_the_neighborhood_the_pleasure_of