“I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m looking for a woman who likes to fuck – sweaty, dirty, grinding, cunt-in-face fucking, yeah? And she’s got to suck. I need a woman who can swallow my cock and take it deep. I want to see lipstick on my balls. You with me so far?”
“Erm…”
“I like all kinds of sex: oral, anal, anything that gives me a satisfying climax.”
“Okay…”
“So if you’re looking for wine, dine and candle light, forget it. I’ll take you to the pub for a pint before you blow me, but don’t expect more.”
Jane adjusted her glasses. “What did you say your name was? Your label seems to have fallen off.”
“I took it off. I hate labels.”
“Uh-huh.”
“The name’s Clive.” He leaned forward, scrutinizing Jane’s slender body. His gaze lingered on her breasts. “You have fantastic knockers, shame about the rest of you. You’re dowdy. Did you borrow that skirt from your Gran? Shocking. Oh well,” he sneered, “I don’t have to look at you when you’re sucking my cock.”
Jane bristled. Cheeks reddening, her steel grey eyes bored into Clive’s forehead as if willing his head to explode. Her hands twitched, tightening into fists. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, she clasped her hands together and stared into his eyes. She sat, motionless, her lips slowly curving into an amused smirk.
On the opposite side of the table, Clive shrank back. “Okay,” he stammered, shifting uncomfortably, “why are you still here? And why are you smiling?”
Silent, unblinking, Jane tilted her head.
“Aren’t you going to slap me and storm off?”
Jane pursed her lips, her gaze steady.
“Donna slapped me, so did Laura.” Clive paused. “Aren’t you offended? Come on, everyone slaps me. It’s what they do.”
“I see.” Leaning closer, Jane whispered, “Do you really like my breasts?”
“Yes.”
“Touch them.”
“What?”
“Touch them,” she cooed. Red-nailed fingertips stroked her cleavage invitingly. “Go on. Touch.”
Clive’s fingers edged closer as if drawn by some magnetic force. A single fingertip made contact with Jane’s right breast. The second it did, Jane banged her hands hard on the table and leapt to her feet shrieking, “Disgusting letch!” at the top of her voice. Her manicured hand whipped across Clive’s startled face, slapping his cheek so hard, he tipped sideways.
The entire pub fell silent. Curious faces turned towards the commotion, gawking at Jane and Clive.
As if nothing had happened, Jane sat back down. “Well?” she asked Clive.
Jaw gaping, Clive had a look of blissed-out delirium on his face.
“Clive?” Shaking off a stiletto, Jane slid a stockinged foot along Clive’s thigh until her toes pressed down against his crotch.
His rock hard erection was tenting his jeans.
Jane’s eyes glinted wickedly. “Thought so.”
At that moment, a bell clanged loudly.
Neither Clive nor Jane moved a muscle.
“Clive,” Jane probed when the melee died down, “answer me honestly – do you like sex, or do you only get off by being slapped?”
“I… I… they always slap me. Then they leave.”
“Ahh…” Jane moistened her lower lip. “I’ll tell you a secret, Clive. I’m no stranger to speed dating. I do it all the time. I hunt for inexperienced men. They show gratitude, you see. I like that. Men with a fetish are even better. I bet you’d like to be spanked, wouldn’t you?”
Clive whimpered, words sticking in his throat.
“I can do all sorts of things to you, Clive, and I want to.” Jane’s foot pressed harder against his erection. “You’re just my type.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Look what you’ve done to me.” Jane caressed her breasts, pulling her blouse tight so that Clive could see her hardened nipples beneath the material. “And my cunt’s dripping.”
“Fucking hell!” Clive clutched his crotch, knocking Jane’s foot away. “God damn,” he grimaced.
Suddenly, Jane kicked off her other stiletto and scooted around the table. Nimble as a cat, she flicked a leg over Clive’s knees to straddle his lap. “Finger me,” she breathed, her lips brushing his as she spoke. “Fuck me. Make me cum.”
“What, here?”
“Yes. I’m not wearing any panties, feel.” Hidden beneath her billowing “granny” skirt, Jane’s naked sex dripped with juices. “Fuck me,” she rasped. “Fuck. Me.”
Drooling with desire, Clive obediently rummaged beneath Jane’s skirts. His pulse surged when he found his target. Jane’s pussy was smoothly shaven and slick with hot secretions. Clive pressed his thumb against her clit and Jane caught her breath. Her hips moved, grinding against Clive’s bulge and the thumb, now rubbing her hardened nub.
Shuddering, Jane arched her back as Clive’s fingers penetrated her sex. Groans rumbled in her throat each time he rammed them inside, fucking her in the middle of that crowded pub. She threw back her head, letting go.
The moment didn’t last long. It couldn’t. Unused to action, Clive did his best but rapidly lost control. His body jolted, stiffened, then shook. A hot stickiness soiled his boxers.
“Oh, yeeessss!”
Clive’s cry echoed around the room until Jane’s panting shrieks drowned it out. The stunned clientele at The Dog and Duck watched her buck and writhe, screaming out her orgasm with wild abandon.
When the waves subsided, Jane straightened her glasses. “Fuck, that’s better,” she grinned unashamedly. Dismounting, she straightened out her skirt. “Come on, let’s go. We’re about to get thrown out and I’m horny as fuck.”
Folding his arms, Clive didn’t budge. “You were fucking crap.”
“Really?”
A second slap struck Clive’s cheek and, reeling, he gazed adoringly at Jane. “I think I love you,” he sighed, touching the raw flesh.
“Sweetheart,” Jane purred, “that was just a taster. Do you like whips?”
Grinning from ear to ear, Clive followed her out.
