The bar was crowded, cigarette smoke swirling everywhere, as I stepped down into the basement-floor lobby, my heels clicking on the stone steps. I was asked to come over for a drink or two, so I shrugged off my long black leather coat and handed it to the bouncer, grabbing my purse and glancing over to the tables and the shadowed niches. I caught guys taking long looks at me, smiling softly to myself as congratulations on the outfit. After all, black and clingy skirts were so my style, and the lace-trimmed black long-sleeved top had ample cleavage to show off my D-cup bosom, the push-up bra working to hold in what it could. Topped with sheer stay-ups and leather boots with moderate heels, I was feeling good about how I looked that night. As physical reference, I'm about 5' 7'' tall with an ample, but right way curvy body type, long red hair that goes down to the middle of my back in waves, pale skin and eyes that change from grey to green with mood and lighting. I've been told that something about my mouth makes one think of mischief, and that I have a feline way of moving - graceful and languid. I'm not the most picture-perfect Grecian beauty, but I have features that are unmatched, and exciting in their characteristic charm - charm that has affected more men than I'm willing to admit in public. Kim waved at me with a pint, so I made my way through to his corner-table, swaying my hips absent-mindedly as I walked, then taking a seat in front of my friend.
Time passed in the usual, animated conversation while moderately downing drinks until someone stopped and slapped sandy-blond, lean-muscled Kim on the shoulder, making him flit his long hair as he turned to look. "Mic, long time no see! How're you doing, man?", he exclaimed and pulled up a seat by his side for the stranger to sit in. As the guy sat down I had a very good, discreet look at him, widening my eyes in surprise. What my eyes met was a long mass of black, careless-styled hair with red streaks in it, then a shadowed face with solid, masculine features, glinting eyes and a sly smile. I let my eyes travel downwards to take in a well-built body in black jeans, black t-shirt and a dark grey hoodie with a zipper, left open because it was hot inside the bar. This stranger had piercings - on his brow, his ears and his lower lip. There was an aura about him that made me feel weak at the knees, a kind of primal, challenging sizzle in the air.
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Our eyes met - and I gave my most sensuous face, small smile with a nod of greeting as our gazes remained locked together for a longest of times. "Evening. . . haven't met you before, I'd have remembered. . "The voice was low and quiet, filled with the same charisma as all of him. I nodded and made a casual, confident reply as we moved to introductions. Kim told me he'd studied with Mic sometime earlier, and they'd went for a drink more often than he could count. All in all, I got the impression that he was implying I'd get well along with this mate of his, which I seconded in my mind as we quietly flirted with our body language over drinks. And when my friend rose to leave, I excused myself for having had a rough day and wanting to stay later, just for the relaxing and the drinks that were getting to my head in the best way. Kim shrugged and said he'd catch me later, and told us to have a good time. I had to resist the urge to smirk at that comment, as I turned to talk with Mic, the Stranger Danger as I had named him for myself. As one can expect, our discussions turned to flirtatious, and when I reached out my hand to scratch his bare arm with my long, hard fingernails I could see that I had found a man to my taste and liking when his gaze clouded over and body shifted in the chair. I heard him mutter something along the lines "don't do that again or I'll take you up on that offer.
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. " - but I didn't care if he would, so I kept teasing him all the rest of the time we spent at the bar. We didn't stay long. . . he offered to make me a cup of coffee at his place, and some music we both agreed upon. I left, side by side with this handsome guy, feeling giddy and turned on. Oh, I was hoping I would soon have him show me how much his taste matched mine on a more sexual level. I could feel him make subtle passes at me on the way, sliding his hand over my back to the side while going up the stairs, walking just close enough to let his hip brush against my swaying curve, flashing a look at me that promised more than I had bet on. By the time we got to his apartment and he handed me that cup of coffee, I was mentally crossing and uncrossing my legs in turn. I turned to look at him after a sip of the coffee, and as he sat on the edge of the sofa I felt myself go up in flames.
In a matter of seconds we were lip-locked to each other, tongues twirling and dancing together as I was pulled into his lap. Those nimble hands were all over me, brushing over my nipples through the shirt and bra, crawling down my sides to my buttocks, rubbing my thigh until I gave him more space by parting my legs. . .
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it was heated, it was almost animalistic in intensity. We were nothing but a male and female of our species, intent on the reproductive thrill and endorphin-high. I was intent on driving him mad with licks, nips, soft bites over skin that rippled with reaction. I knew that our coupling would be fast, but oh so good!First time he took me that night was on that sofa, having shed my clothing as I nimbly returned the favour, and when his tongue lapped against my shaven pussy I was going out of my head with the need to feel him in me, the push and retreat of his cock, bigger than I had seen in my life, with ropy veins along its shaft and a fat, purple-red head that was leaking out a bead of pearly precum. I was anxious, and when his tongue-teasing of my clit and pussy became almost too good for me to bear, I begged for him to fuck me. Mic raised his head, without a word scooting up along my body and slowly pushing himself in to the hilt in one stroke. I was so wet I could take him easily, moaning out low as my hips pushed against him, eager to get more in me. I could feel him shiver as he just halted for a few seconds, feeling my tight, wet walls stretch around him. "God. . . you're tight. . . incredible"Soon he was working his cock in a steady rhythm, going deep with every thrust and making me gasp and moan deep in my throat.
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Mic was just the way I wanted - good sense of rhythm and he didn't just move in and out of me but also concentrated on my other erogenous zones, leaving little love-bites on my neck, bending to suckle on my hard nipple sending thrills through my body, or letting his hand graze me where and when I least expected. I was not shy of responding in kind, biting on his neck just to lick the tingling sensation into pleasure, letting my nails lightly scrape and scratch patterns upon his upper body, sliding my leg along his with my toes rubbing his instep. I was getting closer to orgasm, and fast. "Ohh. . . fuck me. . . be rough, make me come for you. . . " I could hardly recognize my sultry, purrring voice saying dirty things to encourage him further. "Mmmhh. .
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. good kitty. . . now let me feel your pussy purr for me. . . . " He was a perfect match for me, saying things that made my blood feel close to boiling point. When I felt the first shivers go through me, I bit softly on his shoulder and trembled, my nails scratching red marks on his back as my pussy clenched and pulsed around his lenght, milking his cum out into me. Mic groaned out low, like a growling sound, tensing up at the mixed pain and pleasure as he came, pumping every hot shot of cum deep into me, my juices flowing out to mix with what seemed to me loads of his. When we were both through and exhausted, I fell back to the cushions of the sofa with this hunk of a stranger collapsing on top of me, both our breaths heaving and our minds all a buzz of the afterglow. We made love two times later that night, in his bed on the dark red sheets, and he brought me off to such orgasms I was sure I'd not think straight the next day. When I woke up the next morning to a kiss I knew that I'd want his number - and to see him again. As often as I could.
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. . Stranger danger, but what a delicious danger Mic was. .
