Cocky Guy Gets What He Wants Ch. 01

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Adult hookup takes some unexpected turns.
1.6k words
4.28
33.3k
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/26/2022
Created 11/25/2013
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I met Peter through an online adult dating website. He wasn't really my type, but hey, I was on the site to throw off the shackles of 'type' and just have a great time. He was a bit arrogant on chat, a bit pushy about meeting when we spoke and a bit sort of 'c'mon baby, what you got to lose?' I hated it and liked it at the same time. To me, it was very macho, very cocky.

Despite online dating 101, I went to his house for our first meeting. It was lunchtime, what could possibly happen? From the moment he greeted me, to the time he put me exhausted into a cab at 6am the next day, he was like a thirsty man who could not get enough water.

The way I usually play things was to talk for a bit, flirt, check on the chemistry and then maybe agree to take things further. Not Peter. He walked right up to me, made a growling lewd comment about how sexy my tits were and stuck his tongue in my mouth while feeling my ass.

"Hey!" I jumped back like a teenage virgin and all but spat his tongue out. "Hey! You shit! I'm not a fucking hooker, you can't just assume things." And then maddeningly, he laughed and took my hand and kissed the palm. And still holding it, he apologized.

In hindsight, I would have walked away on anyone else, but he had a deep gravelly voice and a the kind of mischievous smile that could get him off a murder rap. "Well, just back off a bit okay?"

I didn't know this, but by staying beyond that moment, for forgiving him his boyish sleaziness, it was on. Green light. Go. And there was no backing off.

Bracing to combat an immediate ravaging, I was surprised (and relieved) to find we would be going out for lunch – to a public place – and getting to know each other a bit. Surely he would have to keep his hands to appropriate gestures only?

Wrong. At the restaurant, he moved his chair close to mine and said "I just want our conversation to be private." I believed him until he put his hand up my skirt after making sure the waiter was watching. I let him almost reach my panties before leaning in close to his ear and calmly said "Remove your hand or I guarantee it will never touch that spot again." He hesitated. Flashed that grin and moved his chair further away without a word.

He started to talk about swingers nights he'd been to and asked if I'd ever been to one. I hadn't but said with the right person I'd consider it. So of course, he invited me. I just laughed and tried to change the subject because I didn't even know if I wanted to kiss him again yet. But he continued talking, kind of loudly, about how he would love to watch me lick another woman's pussy while he fucked me from behind. "Would you like that?" I shrugged and talked about the wine.

Despite my calm, I was already soaking wet. His candid desire and description of the swingers scenario (a fantasy of mine) was turning me on. But I'm no pushover, I still wanted to make him work for it. Wrong again. When we finished lunch he announced we were going to a pub. We headed to his car and before he opened the door for me, he asked if he could kiss me again. "Just a little one." He said. I paused and eyed him playfully.

A second later his hot tongue touched mine and he pressed the length of his body flat against me. He simultaneously put his hand down my top, pulled my breast from my bra cup and squeezed my nipple hard between his fingers, moaning into my mouth. He must have felt the shocked resistance in my body because it was all over in a couple of seconds, and he was already walking to his side of the car. I just stood there a moment, rumpled and breathless, and wetter than before. He was playing me perfectly and he knew it.

When we got to the bar, we set ourselves up at the pool table. I'm kind of competitive and thought I might get some ground back from him. He was really good, but most infuriating, he didn't care. He became solicitous and generous and less handsy for a while and may have even let me win a game or two.

We drank beer and got merry. We talked, laughed and I relaxed. He was still horribly arrogant and presumptuous, but he was growing on me.

At some point I told him I was going to the ladies room, and swayed happily down the back corridor. When I came out, he was waiting. I laughed and told him to go back or we'd lose the pool table. "No more games." He said with a sly grin. And as I came level with him, he took my arm and pushed me through a different door – the disabled toilet.

His hands went everywhere at once and his tongue found my mouth as he pressed me up against the door. He pulled at my clothes chaotically, desperate to break through to skin. I was breathing hard in response to his intensity, but still remembered to check the door was snipped.

As he kissed and licked at my neck, he talked his desire out loud: "God, you are so fucking gorgeous, I love your tits, I'm going to fuck your tits later, and everywhere else and you are going to come and come and I'm going to drink you dry and then I'll make you wet again and fuck you some more..." It went on and on, and I was so fucking turned on that I mentally obeyed every order he gave.

He tugged my skirt up around my waist and plunged his hand into my pants. He groaned loudly when he felt how wet I was. He pushed three fingers deep, almost lifting me from the ground, and I pushed against him, biting his ear and moaning. His thumb found my clit and he squeezed the slick bud, I begged for his cock. It was in my hand within seconds. Hard as steel and well formed, thick and silky.

We kissed deep and hard, and my pussy was loud and dripping in his hand. "Bend over the sink," he urged and I obeyed without question, kicking my underwear off. There was a mirror above the sink and we could see most of ourselves in it. I had a fleeting thought that he had done this before and was momentarily annoyed.

I heard him unwrap something, but I was so far gone I wouldn't have cared anyway. There was no smile now, just serious desire and absolute determined lust. "Get your tits out," he ordered. "I want to see them swinging as I fuck your gorgeous behind." I complied, just as his cock rammed into me. He wasted no time hooking a finger in my ass as well and I gasped. It felt so good.

He drove hard and fast, in my favourite style. His legs pounded against me in loud slaps against my slick thighs. I watched his face swimming with pleasure as he watched my tits bouncing wildly with every pounding stroke.

The stream of consciousness dirty talk started again: "Your pussy is so hot, my cock loves it, you fucking sexy fucking bitch, you are going to have this cock rammed into every hole, and deep in your sexy mouth, so I hope you like the feel of it, fuck, those tits, tell me how much you want my cock, beg me to ass fuck you with my cock, spread your fucking ass for my cock..." and I did.

Wet and slick from my pussy he just pulled out and rammed his cock into my ass. It was barely warmed by the brief fingering, but there was no easing, no slowing, no mercy. Just cock rammed in as far as I could go. It fucking hurt and I fucking loved it.

He pounded me harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hips. It felt amazing, and I started to say some words of my own: "Fuck your cock feels soooo good in my ass, I love your cock in my ass, I want your cock in every fucking hole, I can't wait to taste your cum, and get on my knees and just suck you until you can't take it, keep fucking me just like this, fuck me, please fuck me, fuck..." I pushed my ass back to meet each thrust and my tits bounced and swayed.

I'm not sure if it was my words, moans, or the movement I made to grip the sink harder so I could get leverage, but he came, hard and long at that moment. With a huge, satisfied "Aaaaaaahhhhhh." We were both breathing hard and flushed to the roots of our hair.

He pulled slowly out of my ass and jammed his fingers into my pussy as he did so. I hadn't cum yet, but was feeling sated anyway. He pulled me upright and reached around for my tits, his fingers still working my puss. He looked at my flushed face in the mirror and said "Don't you worry, baby. You are going to get well taken care of today. That snatch and ass are going to be bruised and battered."

Then he let me go, slapped my ass, pulled the limp condom from his cock and closed his fly. My pussy and ass were both throbbing. "You take a moment, babe. I'll get us more beers." And he let himself out.

For second I just stood there panting. From virginal cringe to public toilet ass fucking in the space of three hours. And it was only mid-afternoon. Who the hell was this guy and how did he know which buttons to press? And how soon would he press them again?

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