My Fantasies

"Do you take it up the ass?"

I froze in place on the barstool. I couldn't believe he said that to me. I stared intently at the pool tables on the other side of the bar, ignoring him, not saying a word.

His large hand, which had been lightly stroking my lower back, moved to my thigh.

Between the bigness of his hand and the smallness of my body, he was able to wrap his hand around my thigh until his fingers met his palm. He squeezed and I felt his strength; his power.

He leaned closer to me until his hot breath was in my ear.

"I asked you a question, sweetheart: do you take it up the ass?"

His tongue darted into my ear and my prick stiffened inside my pants. My senses were alive with fear and panic, and, admittedly, excitement, too.

I vehemently shook my head.

I'd only been with a couple other guys and sex with them had been slow and sweet and safe. They'd been caring, considerate and gentle. I naively believed all my hook-ups would be that way. I thought guys wanted to connect and bond emotionally before they jumped into bed with one another.

Now though, it occurred to me men were men regardless of the gender they were chasing. All they were interested in was getting their rocks-off.

I'd heard my lady-friends complain about men who were 'only after one thing', and now I understood what they meant by that. The women had been right: men are pigs!

His hand released its grip on my thigh then moved between my slightly parted legs. He forced my legs further apart; then to my surprise, I felt the palm of his hand sliding beneath me. I shifted on the stool to avoid his hand but that only served to help him.

I didn't want to make a scene in the crowded bar so I didn't fight him. When my hips lowered to sit on the stool I found myself sitting on his hand.

His long and thick middle finger was pressing hard into the crack of my ass thru the thin fabric of my slacks and briefs. His finger insinuated itself firmly against my anus, and began an infuriatingly slow massaging motion over my perineum and anus.

A myriad of thoughts and emotions overwhelmed me. I was shocked and horrified that a stranger would have the nerve to do this to me in public. It was demeaning and demoralizing; he was doing whatever he wanted with my own body and I just sat there allowing it to happen.

Worse yet, my prick was twitching and throbbing in my briefs. I could feel the pre-cum leaking from my slit. I couldn't remember when I'd been so aroused.

His finger rubbing my anus sent shocks of electricity thru-out my body. I didn't know it was possible to feel such humiliation and excitement at the same time.

I knew if I didn't escape his finger I would suffer the ultimate degradation and cum in my briefs, but I couldn't think clearly; I didn't know how to put a stop to it.

He took my hand and placed it on his crotch, pressing it firmly on his erection and made me feel the full length of it. It was incredibly long, hot and hard.

He released his grip on me and whispered "move your hand up-and-down my cock."

I could have taken my hand from his crotch at any time, but didn't. It never occurred to me I had the free-will to remove my hand from that remarkable piece of flesh. Even thru his jeans, the heat from his cock made my heart race faster and harder.

His mouth was at my ear again. His tongue and hot breath pushed me closer to the brink.

"Are you a virgin, sweetheart?"

I nodded my head.

"Gooood....I LOVE breaking-in a new girl...."

'A new girl'? What did he mean by that?

His finger pressed hard against my opening. He pushed the fabric of my briefs along with a quarter-inch of his finger into my hole. I wanted to cry out for him to stop but remained strangely quiet.

Suddenly his free hand found my hard prick. He squeezed it tightly, bit my earlobe then whispered to me.

"Imagine that's my cock in your pussy, sweetheart...you're gonna love my hard cock in your tight little virgin pussy."

He kissed me on the lips, hard. His mouth was hot; his tongue snaked and danced against my own.

Suddenly he grunted with effort and he pushed another half-inch of his finger inside me.

My balls erupted like Vesuvius. My hips shook violently on his hand. His mouth muffled my cries of ecstasy as I ejaculated into my briefs.

I was truly in the throes of orgasm and didn't care we were in public in full view of anyone and everyone. The only thing that mattered was my mind-shattering orgasm.

My body jerked and spasmed as his hand milked every last drop of cum out of me.

When it was over, and I was trying to catch my breath, he brought his hand to my mouth. I could see that my juices had seeped thru my clothes and were visible on his large hand.

"Sweetheart, clean my hand with your tongue."

I couldn't believe I obeyed him without even a moment's hesitation. The taste was slightly salty, but not terrible.

When I gathered enough courage to look around I saw that no one was watching us. No one cared that I'd just been molested by a strange man in public.

Someone yelled, "TOMMY – you're up next!" It was a guy standing next to one of the pool tables.

"Sweetheart," said 'Tommy'. "Stay right here – don't move. When I'm tired of shooting pool I'm taking you to my car and I'll let you suck my cock."

It was a statement, not a question.

Then he added: "When I'm playing pool, I want you looking at my crotch—nowhere else, do you understand?"

I nodded.

He leaned over and whispered, "Dream about sucking my cock...fantasize you have it in your hands -- stroking it up-and-down...you press it to your lips – you kiss and lick every inch of it...you open your mouth wide and suck on my cockhead...think about how much you want me to cum in your mouth – how much you want to taste my semen."

"LARRY," he suddenly called out to the bartender. "Give my girlfriend whatever she wants and put it on my tab."

The bartender looked at me with a smirk on his lips and said, "Sure thing, Tommy."

Girlfriend? She? Did he just refer to me as 'my girlfriend'?

I wanted to shout out "I'm a guy, dammit", but couldn't speak.

When he wasn't looking at me I watched his movements, his confident swagger as he made his way around the pool table. He was only a couple inches taller than me, but probably outweighed me by forty pounds, and it was all muscle.

When he glanced my way, I made sure my eyes were on his crotch, but when he wasn't looking I admired his biceps and the ripples of his chest thru the tight tee shirt. His jeans seemed to be molded to his powerful buttocks and thighs.

He might look nice, I thought, but he's definitely crazy. What type of person would do and say those things to a complete stranger?

It was uncomfortable sitting there with the mess I had in my briefs -- embarrassing too.

The odor of my cum wafted upwards into my nose. It had the feint aroma of ammonia, and I swore it smelled kind of fishy, too. I imagined everyone around me could smell it

When I was forced to stare at his crotch I couldn't help but think of his cock. The feel of it in my hand was still fresh in my mind. The length, the sheer hardness of it; how it twitched and spasmed when I'd squeezed it.

My own prick began to stir again when I thought about taking his cockhead in my mouth.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the problem at hand. I needed to get away from this maniac.

All I have to do is get up and leave, I said to myself. No one is forcing me to sit here.

Just as I drank the last swallow of wine, Larry the Bartender was right there with the bottle to refill my glass.

"You're a very pretty boy," he said. "I can see why Tommy has the hot's for you."

My face flushed a bright red.

"Cutie-pie," he continued, "...as soon as Tommy gets bored and dumps you – come back and see me...I've got something in my pants I know you'll love."

What the hell? Has the whole world gone mad? How can these guys be so brazenly crude?

I looked around and saw the back door was fairly close. I could leave at any time. When Tommy had his back to me I could easily slip off the barstool and run out the back door.

I'm a free man, dammit, I told myself. I don't like this physical and verbal abuse. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back.

The pressure in my bladder was increasing. I had to take a piss but Tommy had told me to stay on the stool. I began fidgeting, squeezing my thighs together. At one point it got so bad I reached down and squeezed my dick like a little boy. It did help some.

Finally, Tommy was done playing pool. As he walking towards me, I couldn't believe I was still sitting there. Worse yet, I felt a certain relief, at least now I'd be able to go to the men's room. Maybe.

He announced, "Sweetheart, we're going to the head before we leave – I have to take a piss."

I told him I needed too, as well.

He chuckled and said, "Men take pisses – girl's 'pee'...."

There he goes again -- what the hell does he mean by that?

In the men's room there were two empty urinals side-by-side between two other guys, but he led me into an open stall and latched the door closed.

"You're going to hold my cock for me when I piss – take it out," he said matter-of-factly.

I was stunned! The nerve of this guy was galling, but I had to pee so badly I figured I'd do what he wanted and get it over with as fast as possible so I could go, too.

When my trembling fingers pulled down his zipper the noise seemed to reverberate through the tiled room. I thought I heard laughter from the two guys standing at the urinals.

I reached into his pants and searched for the opening to his boxer shorts. I found his cock and managed to extricate it from its silken confines.

My breath caught in my throat when I got my first look at it; circumcised; twice as long as mine, and very heavy in my hand.

I aimed it at the bowl and he let loose with a torrent of urine the likes of which surprised the heck out me. He kept going and going and I was forced to dance and wiggle to keep from pissing in my pants.

"In the future," he said, "when I have to piss you'll be on your knees when you open my pants and take it out."

What? This guy is bonkers! There will be NO future – this is it, and the only reason I'm doing this now is because I have to piss like a racehorse.

When he finally finished, I gave it a shake and the last drop fell from his slit into the bowl. He reached over and gave the toilet seat a tug and it fell onto the porcelain rim with a resounding BANG.

"Your turn, sweetie," he said.

He must have seen the puzzlement in my eyes.

"What are you waiting for, sweetie? Lower your slacks and panties and sit down like the good little girl you are."

My blood began to boil; I had had enough of his insults; if I hadn't had to piss so badly I would have let him have it.

I quickly opened my slacks and pushed them and my underwear down to my thighs. He chuckled when he saw my red, string bikini briefs.

He gave me just enough room to sit down. I made it just in the nick of time; I released a flood of my own urine.

His long cock was still hanging out of his jeans and it was two inches from my face. I stared at it; mesmerized by its length and texture.

"Kiss it, sweetie," he said.

A part of me wanted to scream "Fuck off" but I leaned forward and kissed the purple flesh of his cockhead.

I took a deep breath and the manly aroma escaping his crotch was intoxicating. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight.

I held the long shaft in my hand and slowly kissed its length. When I pressed my tongue to his flesh my prick twitched and quivered.

"Save that for later," he said. "Put my cock away and let's get out of here."

I had some difficulty stuffing his long, semi-erect cock back inside his jeans.

Stars were dancing before my eyes as he led me out of the bar. I took a quick glance at Larry the Bartender. He was watching us leave. He gave me a smile and a wink.

There were three guys talking near the door. One of them said, "Hey, Tommy, she's a cute one."

Tommy replied, "Yeah, I think she deserves a 'backseat audition'."

All three guys laughed.

I wanted to shout "HELLO – I'M STANDING RIGHT HERE – I CAN HEAR YOU!"

I breathed a huge sigh of relief when we went out the door.

What the hell kind of place is this? Who are these men? Guys don't really talk like this, do they?

He opened the rear door to his car and said, "Get in."

I gladly hurried inside.

Between the men talking as if I was a girl, and the way Tommy treated me, my self-confidence was seriously damaged. I wanted nothing more than to hide in the darkness of his backseat.

Tommy wasted no time. He took me in his arms and kissed me. He held me tight; his mouth pressed firmly on mine. I felt strength and power in his embrace and kisses. He was all man.

He awakened something in me. I felt small and vulnerable in his arms. He was in total control of me and I groaned into his mouth. My prick sprang to attention in my cum soaked briefs.

He released me and I heard the snap on his jeans pop open then his zipper go down. He shifted in the seat and I realized he was pushing his jeans and shorts to his thighs.

He guided my hand to his hard cock and I eagerly grasped it. The searing heat of his flesh caused me to swoon; I almost came in my briefs again.

I stroked his long shaft, and reveled in the soft firmness. When it twitched and expanded in my hand I couldn't resist the urge to go down on him.

He didn't threaten, cajole or command me to suck him. He didn't have to, he had stirred my lust and desire for him to a fever pitch and I eagerly lowered my head to his crotch and tasted his hot flesh for the first time.

I lathered and bathed his plum-shaped cockhead; my tongue loved his texture; his flavor. I licked around and underneath the crown and he moaned. That was music to my ears. I feverishly worked my tongue on his most sensitive areas; gauging my success by his groans and exclamations of "Oh, yes."

With my other hand I found his large scrotum and massaged his balls. His sac was heavy when I lifted it upwards to run my tongue over his salty skin. I licked and lathered his balls.

One at a time I took his balls in my mouth and gently licked and sucked. They were huge orbs and I wondered how much cum was stored in them.

I couldn't wait any longer. My mouth found his expanding cockhead and I slid my lips over the glans and sucked him into my mouth.

"Mmmmm...." An involuntary groan escaped from my throat.

My prick throbbed. His cock was hot and his pre-cum tasted wonderful. I suddenly wanted to give him the best orgasm of his life.

I stroked his shaft and massaged his balls as my head bobbed up-and-down his cock.

I couldn't take much more than the cockhead in my mouth so my lips and tongue worked harder to give him the most pleasure.

I became lost in the netherworld of cock-sucking where your mind drifts along in a fog-induced passion and lust. . A world so erotic, your nerves constantly tingle with excitement at the slightest taste, smell and touch of a sexy man's hard cock.

A barely audible, continuous groaning noise came from deep within his throat. I made little humming sounds into his hot flesh.

He began leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. I eagerly lapped it up with my tongue; reveling in its taste and thickness.

His impending climax began slowly, almost imperceptibly. A slight squirming of the hips and thighs; upward thrusting, pushing more of his hardness into my mouth; his groans became louder and protracted. My hand felt his balls contract in his scrotum.

My first lover had taught me how to swallow a man's cum. I flattened my tongue over his slit and waited for what I knew would be a deluge of sperm and semen.

He cried out and began violently thrusting his cock into my mouth. I held my ground and when the first stream hit my tongue, I curled it backwards sending his jizz to the back of my mouth where I greedily swallowed his creamy essence. I repeated that motion a half-dozen more times.

I think it was the third mouthful of cum that sent me over the brink. I shook and shuddered and groaned into his flesh as I experienced my second mind-shattering climax of the night.

Our bodies jerked and twitched wildly; the cum raced out of our balls and thru our pulsating cocks. I managed to swallow most of his load while I once again filled my briefs to overflowing.

My breathing returned to normal before his. My head still buried in his crotch, I stuck out my tongue and lapped up the cum that had escaped my mouth. When I finished cleaning him, I sat up beside him.

He hadn't said a word thru-out the entire blowjob so I assumed I performed to his satisfaction.

"Don't worry, sweetie – you'll get better with regular practice."

It felt like a hard slap on the face.

"Here's the way it's going to be," he said in all seriousness. "I like you – you're submissive and pretty – two traits I expect and demand from my wife..."

WHAT? Did he just call me his 'wife'?

"Tomorrow is Thursday...after work you'll go shopping -- I want you looking pretty on our wedding night..."

OUR WEDDING NIGHT? C'mon, he can't be serious, can he?

"You'll come to my house Friday night and spend the weekend with me...it will be our 'honeymoon'..."

I sat in the darkness slowly shaking my head in disbelief. This guy was going off the deep end and trying to take me with him.

"It might be a good idea to use Monday as a vacation or sick day, you won't feel like working...when I'm done fucking your virgin pussy on our honeymoon you won't be able to walk straight for a day or two..."

IS THIS A DREAM? He can't really be saying this crazy stuff to me.

"Next week you'll move into my house where I'll make you a proper wife..."

It occurred to me this guy was mentally ill. No man in his right mind would say this to another man.

He told me his address and made me repeat it.

"If you are one second late Friday night, I'll give you a spanking you'll never forget...during your wife-training you'll receive many spankings so don't make me mad on our wedding night..."

Now he was scaring me. I glanced out of the corner of my eye for the door handle. I wondered if I could get out of the car before he caught me.

"I want you dressed all in white when you come to my house...a pure, virgin girl like you should always wear white on her wedding night..."

I went from helpless confusion to a seething rage. The more he spoke the madder I became. He was insulting my manhood, and ridiculing my character. I was very close to striking out at him. I was sure he wouldn't expect 'his girl' to sock him in the jaw.

"Buy a white halter top – one that hangs above your naval...get a pair of white short shorts – as short and tight that will fit you...wear white anklets – not white sweat socks, but real, girly anklets...buy a pair of all white sneakers...and finally, I want you wearing white cotton panties – pure white, and they must be cotton...once you become my wife I'll have you wearing sheer and frilly panties, but on our wedding night I want you in white, school-girl panties...."

I wanted to laugh. This man was seriously deranged with some obvious fetish issues. I decided to stay quiet, and not make him mad. It sounded like he was almost finished with his lunatic ravings.

When I leave this car, I thought to myself, I'll never look back and I'll never-ever go into that bar again.

"One more thing," he said. "Buy some nice clothes – don't be cheap and go to 'Thrift-Mart'...it's your wedding night -- pamper yourself. 'Dullard's' has a nice junior miss department..."

He reached over and gently stroked my hair. Then he leaned in and kissed my lips. I was trembling and shaking, I didn't pull away from him. He whispered in my ear.