“Great arse!” I don’t know what made me say it, but when she walked past me in the bar, her pert cheeks hypnotised me. I’m not the sort of guy who usually accosts women in bars, with cheesy chat up lines. But I’d had a few drinks and it really was an impeccable specimen: firm, round, each cheek clearly defined in her tight skirt, making it all too easy to picture the pleasures that lay beneath and between.

I’ve always been an arse man and something about hers drew an instinctive reaction from me: I wanted to cup her buttocks; knead them; caress them; part them to see her fully opened up for me; slip my fingers into her wetness from behind so that I could admire the view while feeling her writhing at my touch and hearing her begging me for more. And, I have to admit, I wanted to slap those delectable cheeks, see them getting pinker as I gradually built up the pressure; and hear her moan as I alternated slapping her with fingering her wet slit.

She turned to me, and smiled. I froze. Suddenly, I was embarrassed at the images in my head. I briefly panicked she could read my mind and see the depravity I was mentally conjuring. It was so vivid that I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d had a thought bubble over my head for everyone in the bar to see.
“You do realise that if you weren’t so good looking, I’d punch you for coming up with a line like that. But, as it is, you get a chance to buy me a drink. Assuming that your conversation isn’t limited to trite compliments?”
It took me a while to register what she’d said, and when I did, I felt intimidated at her confidence - but still drawn to her. And painfully aroused. Her voice was cigarette tainted, with a slight break in it: her inflection somehow suffused with an underlying giggle.
”It wasn’t meant to be trite,” I said, “It just slipped out. I never usually….”
”Whatever,” she said, waving away my apologies. A bottle of Budweiser, please. And I’ll be watching you so don’t even think of spiking it.”

As I went to the bar, my movements were hampered by the insistent erection that, although it had briefly subsided when she’d turned to challenge me, had swollen back to its former glory when she spoke. Something she noticed when I returned with her drink. She just glanced at my groin then raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for the drink. So, going to top your opening line then?”
Talk about pressure. I figured the only way to deal with her was to give as good as I got.
“Yes. You don’t have a great arse. It’s bloody incredible.”
“Have you got an entirely one track mind? You realise I don’t have to listen to this.”
“You’re right. You don’t. But you are.”
“In the hope that first impressions were deceptive. Anyway, I can’t walk away - I know you’ll be ogling me. At least when I’m facing you, you can’t eye me up.”
“Impeccable logic. So you’re going to continue talking to me, even though you find me loathsome, just so I can’t look at your arse?”
“Precisely,” she smiled – it was obvious that she was bantering with me. “In fact, to make double sure…” She moved to a nearby table and perched on the bar stool.
“You mean I’ve actually got to talk to you now? But what if you’re boring?”
“That’s a risk you’ll have to take…”

Three hours later, the risk was paying off. Despite my less than perfect start, it turned out that her arse wasn’t the only thing I liked about her. She had an evil sense of humour, a natural confidence and knowing eyes, but there was a hint of vulnerability about her too. Just the occasional mannerism or thing she said that made me think she was less bullet proof than she first appeared. It was only the occasional flash though, and I wasn’t surprised when she was the one to ask me back to hers. Well, I was slightly surprised. I couldn’t believe my luck. But it seemed perfectly in character for her. Of course, I wasn’t going to say no. Even before I gave her an affectionate pat on the arse as we left the bar and swore I heard her moan under her breath.

Back at her flat, she got us both a beer, and sat next to me on the sofa. Away from the smoky air-conditioned bar, I could smell her properly for the first time. She had a delicate scent, albeit suffused with cigarettes and beer. But it was the musky base of her pheromones that really filled my senses: she smelled of sex. Although I was enjoying talking to her, from the second her aroma filled my nostrils, my mind was only half on her words. The rest of me was occupied with thoughts of bending her over the sofa, pushing up her skirt, ripping down her knickers and slamming my cock into her. I imagined her pushing back to meet my thrusts, my stomach slapping against her arse as I pounded her hard, unable to resist the urge to slap her arse as she begged me to go harder, faster, her muscles clenching tightly around my cock when I shot inside her.

God! I was drifting away too much. I dragged myself reluctantly back to reality. She was changing the CD and I tried to focus on what she was saying but her stereo was on the floor, so she was bending in front of me on all fours, offering me an exquisite view. I could feel my erection painfully constricted by my jeans.
“Like the view?” she said to me, looking over her shoulder. Bitch! She knew exactly what she was doing. It took every bit of willpower I have not to get on the floor and bury my face in her.
“You know I do,” I said.
“How about now?” She pushed her skirt up, bunching it around her waist to reveal pale thighs clad in black hold ups, a tiny thong all that was protecting her modesty.
I nodded, unable to trust my voice to remain steady.
“And this?” She took one of her fingers and sucked it into her mouth, keeping eye contact with me as she did so.
“If you don’t stop, you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”
“And what would that be?” She removed the finger from between her lips and, sliding her thong to the side with her other hand, pushed her finger slowly inside herself.
There’s only so much a man can take and by now, it was obvious I wasn’t misreading any signals.
“This,” I said, and slid to the floor, pushing my face into her dripping folds. She tasted divine: sharp but with a slight sweetness too. I ran my tongue gently between her lips towards her clit, deliberately keeping the pressure light. Two could play at teasing. She pushed her arse back into my face but I kept pulling just far enough away that I was in control of how much pressure she could feel. No matter how much she wriggled, she wasn’t going to get any more than I chose to give her.
“I want you,” she moaned. I briefly pulled my wet face away from her.
“How much?”
“Totally. I need you inside me.”
Tempting as the offer was, I was going to pay her back for her earlier game playing first.
“What would you do to have me inside you?”
“Anything.”
I recognised the tone in her voice. She was at that state of arousal when nothing else matters.
“Even if I was to give you a spanking for being such a tease earlier?”
Now, there was no doubt about it. She gave a definite moan.
“God, yes. Spank me then fuck me.”

Seeing her on all fours in front of me, arching her back and pushing her arse towards me, her fingers now moving over her clit, I decided to give her what she wanted. Call me a gentleman. I started with a gentle slap but, as I saw her buttocks start to get pink, and felt her juices begin to run down my hand, I slapped harder, making her emit mewling cries of pleasure. Her arousal was making her inner thighs and arse sticky, and my fingers almost slipped into her centre of their own accord. When I started to work my finger inside her, flicking her G-spot hard and slamming into her fast, I could feel her start to shake and knew her orgasm was imminent.

”Fuck me,” she begged. “I want to feel you coming in me when I come.”
My cock was aching for release so, after a few more thrusts of my fingers, I put the head of my cock at her entrance and pushed slowly into her. Every nerve in my body was screaming to slam it into her, but I wanted her to feel every inch of that first thrust, to know exactly how much she was taking and, just when she thought she’d taken me all, start fucking her in earnest.

Her hips bucked back against me but I kept control, giving her my cock so slowly she was almost crying for me to hammer it into her by the time I finally buried my full length inside her. After that, all bets were off, and I began to pound her, enjoying her going wild on my cock, her muscles clenching and entire body jerking back in an effort to take me as deep as she could. I could see her pinching her nipples as I gave her the hardest seeing to I could remember in a long time. And, as I felt her telltale muscular rippling, I shot inside her, and was rewarded by her screaming in orgasm and spurting her juices onto my balls.

I stayed inside her for a while, recovering from the intensity of the orgasm, enjoying the occasional pulse that shot through her body. Then she pulled away slowly, clearly as reluctant as I was to end the fuck. She turned round and looked me in the eyes.
“Not a bad start, I guess.” she said, giving me a peck on the lips.
And as she moved down my body and started to lick my wet balls, I knew the night was still young.

To hear this story in audio format, download Sex Talk With Emily Dubberley (Show 1, Add Kink to your relationship) from Audible.co.uk