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I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted a beer. I was visiting an old college buddy who lived downtown. He texted me that he had to work late, “sorry.” So, I thought I’d meander and grab a brew. The sun was going down as I strolled down the street and the temperature was comfortable at around eighty degrees. There was a lot of activity on the street which was lined on both sides by bars. Some looked very . . . expensive and others were packed full of people. I didn’t want to fight crowds so when I passed a tavern with an Irish name, McSomething I don’t remember, that wasn’t too crowded. I popped in. That’s when I saw her.

Our eyes met, and the effect was instant and tangible. We connected in some way that I still cannot fully explain. Not in a way that makes sense, anyway. It was like we were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in some time reconnecting. But we weren’t old friends. We’d never met before. Yet there was this underlying familiarity between us that gave our relationship a running start and served as both a lubricant and catalyst for it. She turned back to the friends she was with and said something that I couldn’t hear across the room.

“Hey, you!” one of her friends who had clearly enjoyed several alcoholic beverages yelled. “Miranda needs a date!”

Clearly embarrassed, the girl, evidently her name was Miranda, turned and looked at me, then walked over and invaded my personal space and whispered, “I need a date. Wanna be my date?”

“Without question!” I replied, which elicited a pleased smile from Miranda. “Does this date have an agenda?”

“Well, we’ll probably have a few drinks here with my friends. They’ll ask you embarrassing questions and tell you embarrassing things about me. When that winds down, we’ll excuse ourselves and you can walk me home. After that . . . ” she trailed off enticingly.

And the evening went along pretty much as she predicted it would. They pumped me for information about myself and told me things about Miranda that her mother probably didn’t know. All the while, üsküdar escort Miranda held my hand, rubbed my arm, or pressed her hand on my thigh. Nothing too forward, but familiar and comforting. For me, just her presence was intoxicating but the constant physical touches were a clear indication that she was into me.

Then, somehow the conversation got steered to sexual fantasies. There had already been plenty of alcohol consumed by this time, so any normal social prohibitions had gone out the window. Stella, the friend that had initially set me up with Miranda, divulged that Miranda had a fantasy that involved getting her asshole licked. I believe she intended to embarrass Miranda, and I wondered just what kind of friend Stella was, but the alcohol in me thought to save Miranda from embarrassment by volunteering to fulfill that fantasy right here and now for all to witness. It didn’t occur to me that this might have the unintended consequence of embarrassing her even more. Nor did it occur to me that her friends would seize on the idea and demand that I perform it. I looked at Miranda, expecting to find her recoiling in horror from being at the center of such unwanted attention. Instead, she had something of a wicked expression on her face. I raised an eyebrow in response.

“It was your idea,” she grinned. “I will if you will.” This was not the response I expected, but the analysis would come later. At that moment, she began sliding out of her tight shorts. Immediately, her friends cleared a spot on the table, so she could perch on all four atop it. We were in the very back corner of the bar and mostly out of view to the other patrons. That was the farthest thing from my mind at that moment.

Miranda had one of the most exquisite derrières on the planet. After her face, it was the first thing I noticed when our eyes had first met. And as good as it looked wrapped in her tight shorts, it looked even better perched before my eyes on the table. She looked yenibosna escort over her shoulder expectantly as Stella reached over and spread her cheeks, exposing her anus for all to see. Her friends were egging me on, but I needed no encouragement. I began my task with glee.

First, I licked all up and down the crack of her ass. I’m not gonna lie. As beautiful as her ass looked, it still smelled like ass. Nevertheless, alcohol and peer pressure prevailed. After several passes, I didn’t notice the odor any longer. Then I began to concentrate on the bud of her anus, pressing my tongue against it until at last it penetrated it. I wasn’t paying attention to what was being said around me, but I did notice that Miranda’s pussy had begun to leak a copious amount of lubricant. I considered for a moment what the consequences would be if I just whipped out my gun and fucked her right then and there. Would I get arrested? Would she be pissed that I violated her without consent? Would I even be able to fuck in front of a live audience?

I didn’t wait for an answer. I just unzipped and popped my rigid cock right into her pussy. It slid in easily given how lubed up she was. Don’t get me wrong, she was tight, but slippery as hell. She didn’t scream, thankfully, just gasped in surprise, but quickly began moving into my thrusts. The crowd of friends had quieted down, but it wasn’t until later that I discovered that it was because they had begun getting busy with each other, or by themselves if no one else was available. At the time, however, I was consumed with lust and enjoying the best fuck of my life. As my orgasm approached, I wondered if I should pull out or just go ahead and blast my load inside of her. As if in answer, Miranda moaned, “don’t stop! Don’t you dare stop!” Well, that was all the encouragement I needed. I think I managed about six more thrusts before the dam broke and I could feel jets of sperm flooding her vaginal canal. Fortunately, six thrusts were enough zeytinburnu escort to bring Miranda to orgasm also. It was quite a thrill to watch her hips shudder involuntarily in front of me.

I pulled out to applause from the crowd that had gathered behind us. (Later, someone offered to text me the video that they had recorded on their phone. I was grateful that neither of our faces were shown.) Miranda quickly slipped her shorts back on, but there was no going back. No pretending that what just happened hadn’t.

“Are you okay?” I asked with concern. She answered with a wet kiss and tongue.

“Will you walk me home?” she asked sweetly.

“Of course,” I replied. Miranda wrapped my arm around her, placing my hand on her breast. It was obvious that she was not wearing a bra and that she wanted me to know it.

“I knew there was something between us the moment our eyes met,” she said. “My pussy got wet instantly. I almost had you slip your hand down my pants while we were sitting there, but I thought that maybe that was a little too slutty. I don’t want you to think I’m slutty. What happened tonight was out of my control,” she said.

“It was beyond my wildest dreams,” I replied.

“Well, I don’t want to ruin the moment,” she said, “but you should know I’m not on birth control.”

I suddenly felt as if the weight of the world had been plunked down on top of me. Talk about a reality check! In the back of my mind I was hoping she’d add “just kidding,” to the previous sentence. She did not.

“Well, this is awkward,” I said.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m sorry. I just thought you should know.”


“I had no idea you were going to fuck me. And then when you did, I didn’t want you to stop.”

“I’m not sure I could have, although the thought occurred to me that maybe I ought to pull out just about the time you said, ‘don’t stop.'”

“Yeah,” she said, “but I was so close that if you stopped, I might have died.” She paused and added, “for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t be sad if we were pregnant.”

It wasn’t lost on me that she talked about us being pregnant. I had known Miranda less than five hours and we had already been more intimate than I’d ever been with anyone—given that I’d never licked anyone else’s asshole ever. And now we might be parents.

“So . . . you got any plans for the next fifty or sixty years?” I asked.

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