The place was always crowded on a Friday night, and, following his usual scanning of curvy female dancers and picking out one or two who might succumb to his well worn chat-up line. He sat down at a table to give a deeper consideration to his selections. Harry Laine had no real belief that he was one of the world’s great lovers, but he was aware at the age of twenty-two that young women, and some not so young, found him attractive. He was also very aware of the advice both his parents had given to him before he’d turned sixteen. “Women should always be respected.”
He had tried to follow that advice and did find that the dozen or so he had screwed had shown their appreciation, which added a touch of confidence to his approach. Young women fascinated him and if, when in pursuit of his usual goal any girl wanted to stop, he respected that, and although disappointed, and often frustrated he’d ease back.
Maybe that had earned him a safe reputation, or it could have been that most preferred the fairly conventional approach; the kissing and nibbling, the stroking of the breasts outside, then bare, and the final stage fingering along a wet channel to arousal before his fairly generous shaft could glide up into her.
So this night he sat and reviewed his choices. Basically, who was most likely to give out? The best review was to dance with each one, the big-titted brunette was too stiff, the little blonde in red seemed too shy, and that left the first one he’d noticed, a fairly tall, willowy figure in a yellow blouse which appeared to be under pressure. When he was closer he saw, under a flow of blonde hair, an attractive face, a wide mouth, and vivid green eyes.
They had danced, and the voluptuous way she pressed against him sent eager signals to his brain and his crotch. By the time they had the second dance, her grinding against him promised much, and made up his mind. How could he know that he was on the verge of an experience that would alter all his earlier attitudes to women? A total change from any of his previous conquests. In fact, he was left wondering who had been conquered.
They left before the dancing ended, and finding they were catching the same train, had time to exchange hot kisses, behind a platform pillar, where she had no objections to his squeezing an excitingly rounded breast. And just as the train arrived, Harry was sure she had been trailing her hand down towards his hardened cock.
Harry wasn't sure whether he was kidding himself, but whenever her green eyes looked at him they appeared to be full of desire and promise. Her name was Gina and she was twenty-six years old, and when, sitting in the train carriage, she leaned into him and whispered, “Would you like to come to my flat for..." her pause was deliberately seductive, "a coffee," another pause, with a sexy grin, “or something?”
Knowing there was much more than coffee on offer, Harry accepted without delay, and was amazed to find that they had lived within a mile of each other. Standing eagerly behind her as she unlocked the door of her downstairs flat he was pretty sure that he was on to a good thing.
Inside, his eyes quickly took in a smart sofa and easy chair, a sideboard and two doors, one leading to a kitchen. But before he could register any more he found himself pressed back against the door as Gina flung herself against him, her hungry mouth wildly seeking his, while her hands pushed under his shirt, and her nails raked over his skin, before diving down for his cock.
“What size is it?” she growled.
Totally overwhelmed by her ardour, Harry responded, thrusting his tongue along and around hers. But before he could do anything else, she had stepped back, eyes afire, breasts heaving, hand squeezing on his still enclosed cock. "Harry, I like it rough. Rough and dirty. Don't be too careful with me. Now, strip me."
Harry was fully aware that he was on course for something that was new to him. Puzzled by the way she’d made the last request, Harry reached out to unbutton her blouse.
She took a step away, "No! No! Rip it off. Hard. Bare me."
Bewildered, Harry clutched the collar of the blouse, as she nodded, and urged, "Yes, just yank it away."
Harry did just that and was surprised at how easily the buttons popped and the blouse fell away. Her breasts blossomed out of a slight bra, which he easily discarded, revealing two globes that pointed their pink tips directly at him. The urge to bury his face between them was strong. But first, the skirt, which, because it was elasticated, dropped away without any bother, and there she was in only skimpy panties through which a hairy tuft was clear.
Gina had begun heaving at his belt buckle, and as it came free, she unzipped him expertly, pushed her hands down over his buttocks and pushed pants and boxer shorts down. At the crucial moment of freedom, his rampant cock came springing free right into her face as she bent.
"Holy mother," she gasped, as she gazed at it, "that is some cucumber of a tool. Must have a taster." And without further ado, she grasped his scrotum in her hand and wrapped her lips around his heaving cock, sliding her face right up to Harry's belly
Incredulously delighted, Harry felt his cock head strike at the back of her throat, as her tongue worked a magical spell around it. He was wondering how to handle this situation, when, just as suddenly, she released him, and stood up. Holding her arms wide she growled, “Tear them off me.” Harry knew she could only mean her panties,
His hand must have been too tentative as he placed his fingers under the waistband, for she yelled, “Rip the fucking things. Do you not want to get at my cunt?” Each new step was shocking Harry. He had never heard a woman talk like this or be so dominant. But he pulled, and the panties came away like torn tissue paper.
“Haven’t treated a woman like this before, have you?” Then she turned away and walked towards the far door, calling over her shoulder, "Just wait there. Don't let yourself droop." Harry stood fascinated by the tick-tock motion of her bare buttocks.
Standing there feeling just a bit spare, and wondering what she would return with, Harry took the opportunity to slip out of his shirt. After just a couple of minutes, her voice came, "Right, Harry, come in here."
What he saw when he entered the bedroom, lit by one small bedside lamp, almost stopped his breath.
Gina, completely naked, lay spread-eagled on the bed. Each wrist was fastened to a bedpost by handcuffs, and her ankles were held wide apart by silken straps, tied to the bottom of the bed. She saw him looking at the handcuffs. "Oh, they’re easy to release. A little button that I push against the bedpost. Come on."
He moved to the foot of the bed, knowing he should be taking charge in some way, but all he could do was stare in some wonder at what lay before him. Naked ladies were not a new experience, but never had they been so wantonly exposed, before they’d started any fucking.