It’s 6:30 Sunday morning. I can’t sleep and a man is sleeping in my bed. I have no idea what his name is. I am such a slut.

I went out last night with my friend Katy. We went to dinner at a nice restaurant. When we were finished, it was early and neither one of us wanted to go home. She suggested that we go out and have a drink. That sounded fine to me and we wound up at a little beach bar in St. Petersburg. It’s a nice place; I’ve been there several times in the past. It’s very casual, has a nice crowd, and always has live music.

A good-looking man approached Katy and asked her to dance. I was surprised she accepted since she is happily married to a great guy. She left me alone at the bar and in a matter of minutes, it was my turn to be invited for a dance. Of course, I accepted. This man was around my age, damn good-looking, and quite polite. We stayed out for several numbers.

I returned to where we had been sitting. Katy was there. She finished her drink and let me know that she needed to go home. I think she might have been feeling guilty about dancing with another man. I understood and told her that it was okay to leave, but I wasn’t ready to go home. Since she drove, she was worried that I had no ride home. I told her not to worry, I take taxis and Uber all the time, and that I would be fine. We said our goodbyes and she left.

This certainly wasn’t the first time I was alone in a bar. This was different, though. In the past, it was always in an airport or a hotel when I was traveling for work. It was only a matter of minutes before the same gentleman took Katy’s seat next to me. We were enjoying the music as we chatted about nothing important.

I was wearing a dark grey knit dress that showed off my figure. The weather finally started to cool off in Florida so I was also wearing black thigh-high stockings. I hate pantyhose; they make me feel old. As we were talking, he gently placed his hand on my knee. My panties immediately dampened. I knew I wanted this guy.

He asked where my friend had gone. I explained that she had a husband and needed to go home. Smiling, I added that her marriage was his good luck. Then I told him she drove and I had no way home. He offered to drive me. That was my end game; it worked. I wanted this man to have his way with me.

Our ride home was quick and quiet. When we arrived, we wasted no time. I took him straight to my bedroom. The clothes came off and we got down to business. We fucked like bunny rabbits.

His dick was beautiful, and he knew how to use it. He was in charge, and powerful without being forceful. His rhythm was just right. I was on my back, legs spread with my ankles in the air. I wanted him as deep as possible. His thrusting was matched by my drive. I started to lose myself in a tremble. He never missed a beat.

He took my breath away. It felt so good, then he pulled out of me. For a moment I was disappointed. But he wasn’t done with me. His strong hands rolled me over, grabbed my hips, and lifted me in the air. That magnificent slab of granite slid into me with ease. I grabbed a pillow and held it tight. The ride was glorious.

Once again, my reaction was feverish. One orgasm after another. My intense reaction started to work on him. He held me tight and with one final thrust, he let out a grunt. I could feel his warmth fill me. He and I collapsed in unison. Both of us, completely satisfied, fell asleep.

Now, here I sit, on my laptop, sipping a cup of coffee. I’m not interested in waking him and having a conversation. Last night was perfect. At this point, I don’t even want to know his name. Unattached sex and multiple orgasms, everything I could want on a Saturday night. I can hear movement in my bedroom. Time for him to go.