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In The Bar

You and I are sitting in a bar with a couple of your friends, drinking. We’re sitting in a booth in the back. It’s a Friday night, but the after work happy hour crowd has started to filter out, so it’s quieting down. Having just come from work, I’m wearing khakis and a polo shirt. You’re wearing a white sundress.

As the evening progresses, we all start to get a little drunk and you go to the bathroom. You come back, and a little tipsy, you half fall, half sit on my lap and start giggling. You discreetly slip something into my hand.

It’s your panties. And they’re damp.

I slip them into my pocket, and you adjust yourself so your now naked ass is against my rapidly hardening cock. You start talking and joking with your friends. Every so often, and ever so slightly. You grind me. I can, or think I can, feel the heat radiating from your pussy.

Your ask your friends go to the bar to get us drinks, with the statement, “he’ll buy if you go to the bar, “and you reach down and unzip my fly. You slide my cock into you. You’re beyond wet. I can smell you. You start to rock on me, once again, very discreetly.

Your friends return and we carry on like nothing unusual is happening. But, my rock hard cock is in your pussy. You’re contracting the muscles of your pussy, essentially slow-fucking me without moving, driving me insane, but we have to maintain our composure.

After 10 torturous minutes, I feel my orgasm building. I squeeze your thigh, hard, and take a deep breath, trying to act normal. I cum inside of you. It’s all I can do to control myself. Each contraction is divine torture.

We wait until your friends go to the bathroom together, and then you quickly stand up and go to join them (and presumably clean yourself up as I turn to the wall to tuck my sticky cock back into my pants and zip my zipper.