Erotica: A Quiet Drink After Work by Aco

A quick drink after work? We’ve done it before and managed to keep our hands to ourselves. So you agree and we meet in a pub near my station. It isn’t busy: half-full downstairs and completely empty upstairs, so we head upstairs with our drinks to sit in the comfy chairs across a low table.

It’s not quite the same as usual, though – that’s quite a top you’re wearing. Your marvellous breasts are straining at the buttons on your blouse, and I get quite a view of impressive cleavage where the top few buttons are undone.

“Are you trying to make me uncomfortable?” I ask – nodding at your chest.
“Maybe… I’ve been thinking about you since we texted, and thought you’d appreciate having your mind taken off matters for a while.”

We return to our bland conversation for a while, but I notice you leaning forwards and dropping your gaze rather too often. My half-hard cock lies across my pelvis, its outline very obvious under my tight trousers.

“I’m sorry about that – I hadn’t noticed,” I lie. You close your eyes and murmer something I don’t catch.
“Sorry – I was just a bit distracted. Memories of good times…”
“Ah, memories. I was reading some of your letters the other day. I think from the time you left to work in London for a few months.”
“Ah… those letters. Well, they were meant for you to read. And did you … enjoy them?”

I can feel the blood pumping through every vessel in my body and a surge of adrenaline. My cock strains at the belt of my jeans. I risk an answer to this obvious provocation.
“I was naked, just out of the shower. It was hard not to imagine you kissing your way down my body, hands wandering…”
“Do you think that’s what we’d be doing right now if we were back in my hotel room?”, you ask with a smile.
“Don’t… I’m a bit uncomforable here!” I protest
“Mmmm… yes you are” you nod, with a wicked smile. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think you’re the only one who’s a bit turned on”.
“Girls have it so much easier than boys”. But I’m just moaning. You part your legs slightly and your skirt rises slightly on your thighs.
After a pause, you say “Can I ask you a question?”
“If I were to come over there, kneel in front of you, open your jeans and take your thick, hard cock in my mouth, would you push me off?”
Arghh… this is torture. “A little public, isn’t it? – wouldn’t we be arrested?”
“There’s no-one around; we’d hear anyone come upstairs in plenty of time. Anyway- it was just a question. We’re being good these days, aren’t we?”
“Well, good-ish.”

We return to out drinks and try to talk about other things. But it isn’t long before you change the subject: “I still think about your cock when I masturbate, you know. Not always, but sometimes I like to imagine my lips around it and the way you feel in my mouth when I’m fingering myself.”

My turn to confess: “I’m glad I’m not the only one: I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve replayed the time we fucked in that hotel pool.”
“I tell you what. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. If you undo your jeans and release that delicious cock of yours for a few seconds, I’ll just part my legs and …”
“I get the idea.” I say – and that idea is very tempting. “OK – 10 seconds? No touching though, that would be Wrong. Capital ‘W’”.

You slide over to me and sit on the table between my legs. Looking around quickly, I unbutton my fly and shuffle my jeans past my arse. My cock is fully hard and pushing out the fabric of my briefs. We lock eyes and with a nod from you I slide them down. I feel an instant sense of relief as my cock springs free and bobs gently in the cool air of the bar. The head is soaked with the pre-cum which drips off it. Your pupils dilate and as you start counting, begin to move closer. When you reach five, you reach your finger out and trace it ever-so-gently up from my balls to the tip of my cock. You expertly pull back my foreskin and delicately circle my frenelum. Suddenly you reach ten and we pause, uncertain of what happens next.

The decision is taken out of our hands – someone’s coming up the stairs. I rapidly make myself decent and you return to your seat. It’s a relief to both of us when one of the bar staff enters and not a whole group of customers.

“More drinks up here, folks?” he asks. Needing a break, and on impulse, I order a bottle of wine. We look at each other and smile as he leaves us. The second his back is turned, you reach under your bottom inside your skirt and pull off your knickers. He’s barely out of the room by the time they hit my face.

“A little something to show my appreciation” – you’re joking with me now. They’re wet with your arousal and I feel my cock twitch painfully in my restrictive underwear. You’re having an easier time of it, though. One hand rests lightly on your thigh near your knee; the other has reached much further up… our eyes meet and lock.
After what seems like an eternity, the barman returns with our wine and two large glasses. I try not to laugh as I see you suck your fingers whilst he’s pouring the wine for us.

As soon as he’s gone, we both take a large gulp of wine, and I say “Where were we?”

Moving to your side of the table, I undo my jeans again (more for my benefit than for yours), and kneel between your knees. Your spread your legs apart to accommodate me, and lift your skirt slowly up to your waist. I don’t start counting until I can see the curls of brown hair above your very wet vulva. Since you broke the rules, I get no objection from you when, as I reach five, I bury my head in you. My tongue laps greedily at your open pussy for a few seconds, before I trace my way probingly to your clitoris. A sudden jolt comes from you when I find what I am looking for. I’m well over my ten seconds, but your hand reaches onto the crown of my head and starts massaging it rhythmically. The strokes of my tongue keep time and I can tell you’re getting close to coming. With one move, I push two fingers deep into you and start rubbing the inside wall of your vagina.

“Don’t stop!” you moan.
I stop.
Moving around you onto the seat next to yours, I pull my jeans and underwear down to my knees. God knows how we’re going to explain this if anyone comes up. I pull you down on top of me and with one stroke my painfully hard cock slids deep into your hot cunt. You give a gentle grunt and push off on my shoulders, forcing yourself all the way down onto me. Seized with passion, I rip your blouse open and pull off your bra. Your large breasts are bouncing in front of me and my vision blurs as I catch them and rub my slick fingers over your nipples. We both come in about 15 seconds, you shuddering and with your head thrown back, me in powerful spurts in time with our thrusts.

As we catch our breath, we hear voices on the stairs behind us. We’ve got some adjustments to make – I quickly pull up my jeans, and you gather your blouse together. We’re both flushed and my semen is beginning to dribbly thickly down your thigh. I start to make loud small talk as the group move to a table on the other side of the room, giving you time to pull on a jumper and head to the toilets.

And then we’re off – I’ve got a train to catch and you head back to your hotel, my cum gathering in your knickers on the tube there. Funny thing, though – did you notice if that woman sitting on her own in the corner of the upstairs bar was there when we arrived?

Read part two of A Quiet Drink After Work

Posted in Cliterati Magazine, Erotica, Straight Erotica and tagged as , , , ,

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