The Hog Bar

A rapid chain of high pitched moans followed, as London felt his tongue play with her clitoris, dancing around as she moved her hips clockwise to capture every single sensation, their intensity grew stronger and the pause between them more brief as she felt the knot on her shirt come loose and his fingers then descend along her skin and to her buttocks, where they began to play around her most aroused area, stroking her wet vagina, caressing her perineum and dancing dangerously on the edge of her anus. She suddenly felt a strong surge run down her spine, carrying all of her thoughts, her lusts and desires with it. The tingling sensation emptied her brain and bounced down her body, forcing her to shiver uncontrollably as she felt his tongue ravage her and his fingers feel her every inch of skin.

"Eat it, eat my pussy...I'm going to..." she whimpered as the sensation made its way inside her "...Fuck!" she cried amongst her lustful screams as she felt her body lose control and the orgasm take over, flooding her with pleasure and burning her from within.

She felt empty, for a moment, as she listened to her own heartbeat pulsate rapidly and felt her hands let go of his head, slowly, lingering in the grasp as it were holding her above a bottomless pit. Finally, she released him and fell onto him, still shaking, still hot, still wet with pleasure, still wanting more.

He held her for a short while, passing his fingers over her lower back to make sure she enjoyed every little wave of the post orgasmic flow, still, he knew as much as she did that the night was still young at heart and that stronger moments were to come. He looked at her, her silky dark hair falling back onto the sofa, her breasts barely contained by her black lace bra, now clearly visible through her open white shirt, her thick, flawless, luscious thighs barely open enough that he could see her touch herself, desperately trying to control the aftermath of her climax. At the sight of such lustful perfection, he could no longer resist.

He lifted his shirt over his head and cast it aside before leaving the sofa and standing beside it. She, as she lay on her back, her head almost hung over one of the armrests, reached out for him and, once again, took hold of his shaft with her right hand. He bent over, letting her tug at him as she slid her fingers in herself once again and, leaning over her, removed her shirt, making sure he kissed the little skin he hadn't already covered with his lips and wrapped his free hand round one of her breasts, gently massaging her from over her bra. Just as he slipped his finger below the fabric, popping one of her round, supple breasts out of its cup. He felt a warm, pleasure-filled sensation cover his glans as her hand continued to move up and down. He ignored it at first, proceeding to suck onto her nipple with care, only to delicately bite it soon after. She moaned, but her cry for pleasure became muffled as he, once again, felt that warm wet sensation cover the tip of his penis and move slowly upwards toward his belly.

He stood back up and looked down at her. She was laying subtly on the sofa, slowly ondulating to the movement of her own fingers inside her, lustfully moaning to herself as she enjoyed every shiver of pleasure that ran through her. Her head was tilted back, stretching out from the edge of the sofa and her lips were around him. As he moved back and forth, she grabbed his hip with her free hand, pulling him towards her and lengthened her neck, reaching out for him, wanting to suck him all the way. She then suddenly pulled back and released him from her mouth, almost kissing him as she let him go. She then playfully licked his glans from beneath, almost taunting him to sink deep inside her lips.

"Come on..." she whispered at him, staring into his pupils with newly found confidence and cockyness "...fuck my mouth..."

He slowly pushed forwards just as she opened her lips, letting every inch of him inside. She gasped for air at first, then found her breath and began moving along the length of his cock, encouraging him to both follow the movement and to push some more with his own strength. He moaned gently, and she let her wet fingers slip out of from between her thighs to grab one of his wrists and drag it towards her. He felt the warm moisture between her legs and caressed her with gentle passion, encouraged by the movement of her hips and the pressure her hand made over him.

His breath got more and more intense as she sucked him with intensity and desire, almost as if she was drinking the soul out of him through a thick, meat straw. The movements became quicker and quicker and their breaths heavier, she could feel his rod become hotter and pulsate in her mouth as she tasted it passionately, relaxing her jaw in complete abandon, so to let him thrust as deeply and strongly as possible into her throat. For brief moments, irregularly scattered between an ever changing number of breaths, pants and squeaks, she half closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the warm sensation and the arousing smell of sex in the air, almost hypnotized by the occasional, soft rub of his testicles on her face. They felt hot, almost scorching on her as they passed over one of her eyelids and she gasped, lost and breathless beneath him, lustfully gagging on his throbbing member, willfully drowning herself in his strong, warm touch.

Her thighs were soaked, his fingers now mercilessly pounding her, moving inside her, wildly rubbing over her clitoris. She shook, twitched and trembled while he sank deeper into her mouth, wishing to be devoured by the peerless angel of lust which lay beneath him. Clenching her breast with his left hand he moaned, rolling his eyes backward and mumbling something beneath his breath. The girl, beneath him, stared at his face from under his moving pelvis, looking for his eyes when she could see them. A half smile could be seen form at the edges of her wide open mouth which gulped and gargled every time he sunk inside it, pushing sternly, deep into her throat. As distant as reality seemed, she was glad, not so much of the pleasure she was receiving but mostly for the fact that he, for the first time, seemed real, seemed human in his impossibility to resist the moment.

As pleased as she was in knowing she was good enough to make her partner lose his ice cool, London gasped for air and gave him enough time to keep hold of his sanity. She caught her breath for a few, precious seconds but said nothing, not with words at least. It seemed sufficient, at the time, to look up at him and smile and see him smile faintly back at her, to understand that all was well and that madness, as dangerously close as it had come to taking them, had not quite overcome them yet. The girl gave out a small giggle and teased the tip of his penis with her tongue, then, again, she wrapped her full, wet lips around his member and sucked him in as hard and as deep as she could, pausing, eyes closed and breathless, when he was at her deepest. She held him there, forcing him with a hard push of the hand to his hip, and made sure he felt her tongue wrap around him and move over every inch of his manhood. He mumbled a few more words that she couldn't understand, then moaned continuously as he let himself lose control just enough to tremble, ever so slightly, with pleasure. In the end, as insanely good it felt to have him in her mouth, holding her breath as she sucked on him, her lungs could take no more of the strain and she had to release him. She gave him one, last, lust filled stare before closing her eyes again and letting go of his hip.

He pulled back, out of her, away from her mouth as he stumbled back a step or two. It still felt good, for both of them, the sensation of one another lingered on them as they both regained control. After a few, endless seconds, he stepped forward once again. He grabbed her arm and gently tugged on it, lifting her, as if they were dancing together, and pulling her towards him. She stood, rather breathless in front of him, her skirt and panties finally fell all the way to the floor, slipping over her black boots and onto the cold marble tiles. Her shirt simply fell off her, as a leaf does from a tree when summer dies and the autumn comes and her black lace bra straps slipped half way down her shoulder. Her breasts, supple and soft skinned, were now perched over their respective bra cups, uncovered, exposed. They were firm and fair, not as small as on other girls of her size but, still, not so large as one would call them huge. They were, as he thought as he stared at them, "pleasing" to behold, not perfect, but imperfect in a kind way to the eye.

It was a while before either he or she spoke or did anything. Naked, they gazed at each other in silence, trying to get their breath back as they panted softly, opposite one another, a few metres apart at the centre of the room. Suddenly, he came forward and pushed her strongly back against the closest wall, taking care that she felt herself pressed against it but wasn't hurt.

It was cold, the kind of cold that makes people squeak when they lean their backs against the dry part of a bathtub, still, taken by surprise, she failed to make any sound at all. Immediately, as if by reflex, she wrapped herself around him and let him lift her legs, leaning with her back against the cold, smooth surface of the stone-tiled room and hanging onto his shoulders and neck. Their lips collided and she felt herself suffocate, drowning in his kiss. Her mind blurred and spiraled out of control once more. He placed himself at the entrance of her paradise and poked delicately at her lips, as soft and as humid as the ones on her face, knocking at the gates of heaven, not daring to cross without permission.

She opened her gates and gave way, lifting herself as well as she could by pressing her arms against his shoulders. He pushed closer and his rod slid into her with the delicacy of a sharp blade through a ripe fruit. Her body melted around him: strong, hard, warm as fire as he pushed inside of her, inch by inch, until all of him was deep in her core. There, they stopped for a moment, entangled in their breathless kiss.

"God..." she gasped as she pulled her head as far back as she could, desperate for air "...fuck me..."

She mumbled more but could not speak, his tongue was, once again buried in her mouth and bound her words tightly so that only squeaks and moans could escape. Her thoughts vanished, even those she counted on to survive, and her need to breathe disappeared along with them. Surrendering to him she brought her hands to the back of his head, pushing him toward her, gifting him her lips, her tongue, her soul as he began to move back and forth inside of her.

It was not hard, at first, nor fast, just the delicate dance of lust, a synchronized movement of hips and thighs and bellies and spines. They had collided so perfectly against that wall that their skins never left each other, nor did London's back leave the wall as they wriggled against one another, lovers entangled in thread, bodies glued together by passion. To her the moment felt as surreal as it was pleasing. This man she'd never met, this stranger in her bar, this one-night stand was taking her, holding her, carrying her to the edge of reason and time, deleting her inhibitions with an eraser of skin and flesh.

He pressed her harder against the no-longer cold wall, digging his way into her until he was able to remove his hands from her legs and let the closeness between them hold her aloft. He let her hang on his cock and neck alone, supported by the pleasing pressure on their pelvises as he slid his hands over her soft, sweat-covered skin. He caressed her inch by inch as she continued to move as sinuously as a serpent wrapped around his body.

Their panting, continuous and simultaneous, almost sounded like a conversation, an exchange of information amid the exchange of sexual ecstasy. They stared at each other, breathing heavily, daring one another as they rubbed their bodies together, almost hoping for their partner to lose control. Finally, she pulled herself up towards his face, her body no longer leaning on the wall, her thighs tight around his waist, his hands moving back to her hips to support her. Her breasts squeezed against him and he gave a shiver of pleasure in return.

"I don't think I caught your name..." she whispered, her mouth almost kissing his ear.

She moaned suddenly, unable to continue. As if taunted by the question he began thrusting inside her, this time more eagerly, lifting her and dropping her with the aid of his unbelievably strong arms. London clenched her teeth, eyes wide open, the unexpected surge of pleasure almost making her climax there and then. She resisted the temptation of immediate orgasm if only to make the moment last longer. He held her now, tightly as he pounded her, breathing and moaning in her ear as she held onto him with all her strength. It made her feel safe, somehow, to be so close to him, to have him inside her, to be completely his.

She listened to him moan quietly, then let herself give out a loud scream of pleasure at his every push, rhythmically accompanying his pounding cock's thrusts with a series of "ohs" and "ahs" that were more meant to please him than to relieve her of the intense sensation in her thighs. She felt her lips tingle around his shaft, the pleasure rising once more and growing with every powerful thrust, edging closer and closer to her second climax.

It was then she realized she could not let herself go again. She wanted to cum, she wanted to more than she desired to breathe air, but this time she wanted to look at him, to see him enjoy her to the full, to have him know how insanely good he'd made her feel. Desperately she held herself, clinging to control as if her life depended upon it. Clutching at his neck she put her weight forward and tried to swing him off balance. He stepped backwards, taken by surprise, putting his left foot back, then his right, then his left again, until, on the fourth step, he tripped on the edge of the sofa and fell back slowly, onto the soft white fabric behind him.

They both found themselves opening their eyes and seeing nothing but one another's face. She was on him, now, as he lay with his back on the sofa and his manhood still inside her. She laughed, smiling innocently at him, never stopping the movement of her thighs for a second. He smiled kindly back at her, sweetly, almost boyishly, before moaning to the softness of her as she made him slide inside it.

"I gotta start losing more often." She giggled as she moved up and down over him, still smiling with pleasure and satisfaction.

She began moving faster, more intensely, raising her back and looking down to him from above, curving her spine backwards to accommodate the whole length of him inside her. Before he knew it, she was riding him, one of her hands caressing his scrotum while the other clung to his arm as she invited him to buck and push her with his pelvis, so she could try to tame him like a wild horse. He indulged her, gently at first, then harder and harder until she finally realized she was, once more, losing control. She let go of his arm and looked for his hand, gripping it sweetly as their fingers crossed and tightened. Her legs relaxed, her body became softer, her eyes almost closed. She entrusted him with her sanity and let all of her senses take over.

"...make me cum..." she managed to screech as her tongue melted and panting and moaning became all she could do.

From below she looked as enticing as ever. He gazed at her, wanting, admiring, adoring, lusting. Her thick, firm thighs wrapped around his waist, dripping and sparkling with sweat and pleasure, tightening and relaxing with his every push, her stomach moved back and forth, then in circles as she slid her round buttocks over him, searching separately for every inch of pleasure, her bra sliding down her arms and body, almost binding her while her breasts, firm and full, bounced free, almost begging to be grabbed.

He panted and moaned, feeling her labia caress him from base to tip, unable to deny her the pleasure of knowing he was almost as mad with desire as her. He stared into her eyes, those almond shaped, brown eyes that glared back at him, full of lust, her mouth was opening and closing with every breath, red, soft and warmer with every breath of passion, her hair, dark and silky, flew through the air, unable to keep up with the ever quickening dance, desperate to cling to her sweat covered, round cheeks.

He wanted her, now more than ever, so much he could not bring himself to resist her. He desired for her to cum, to drown him in her river of joy, to ride him to the confines of sanity, to scream for him as he penetrated her deeper and harder and stronger. He longed for her every time she pulled backwards and moaned with desire, he welcomed her when she leant back towards him and kissed him, almost breathless, her nipples barely touching his chest as they bounced like undecided droplets of water, unsure of weather to dive below or cling to their source.

London felt herself drown. She no longer wanted her lungs to breathe, not her heart to pound, nor her brain to think. All she desired, all she lived for, all she wanted was him, whoever he was, and his body, his shaft, his cock, inside her, deep, thrusting, throbbing, strong. She wanted him to touch her, to grab her, to possess her, to make her feel perfect, beautiful, happy and at the same to drag her into the abyss of insanity. She wanted him to fuck her until she lost her mind, until she could no longer fight him until...

Her orgasm came with a loud scream. His manhood came thrusting in her, seemingly deeper, harder, stronger and larger than ever before. Her heart stopped and seemed unwilling to support her anymore, her eyes opened all of a sudden and she stared at the ceiling above, tensing her every muscle as her nerve endings tingled, overwhelmed by pleasure. It must have lasted no more than a split second and yet it felt like an age had gone by before she knew anything else.

The next thing she felt was her groin flood with fluid and satisfaction, her body letting go inch by inch as she fell forward, onto him, onto the man who was making her cum, completely void of any thought or inhibition. She found herself in his arms, his hands moving down her back to grab her hind as he thrust incessantly within her. She was still shouting her lust; a long, intense, loud moan which trembled to the power of his pounding. Her cunt squirted, dripped, trembled and melted, her breasts felt as though they were boiling, her lips could no longer contain her tongue, her voice, her breath. She desperately found his mouth and kissed it, her tongue invading him, the lack of air saving her from insanity, the mellow sensation of post-orgasmic chill beginning to take over as he slowed his pace and had mercy of her mind.

They slowly ground to a halt; wet, tired, hot and breathless. She slid off him, almost falling to the floor, her legs trembling and unable to support her. As exhausted as she was she could not stop herself from clinging to him, kissing his side as she knelt on the floor beside the sofa. For all the pleasure she had taken she would not be done, she would not be satisfied until she knew he was cared for.

Incredulous at her own will, bewildered by what she was doing, she made her way back up to him, until her head was above the tip of his hard, warm cock. Holding herself aloft with her arms, blinded by the wish to hear him moan for her, she licked him clean of her juices, tasting her own pleasure as it faded off his meat. She then kissed the tip of his glans, holding the suction of her lips for as long as she could, then plunged her head downwards, sinking him into her mouth and down her throat.