"Why don't you have another glass," I said. I was three glasses deep, and I could feel the wine doing the trick just below my belt line, and unless I shifted, no one in the lounge could tell. Good thing for the small table keeping secrets.
"Oh," her futile protest began, "I don't think that would be a good idea."
I regarded her for a moment, taking in her shamelessly plunging neckline, revealing an impressive pair of tits, and her full lips, which looked as if she didn't need to wear a lot of makeup. Sadly, she did, and too much, not caked on, but altogether too much unless she wanted to look like a whore. Keeping that in mind, if that was the desired effect, she hit it on the head, because she looked like a girl on the clock, and even though I didn't think she was, I was in just the mood to act on the former thought, and not the latter.
“Do it anyway.” I poured another glass for her, she didn't know, but the lounge had a tendency to decant their cheaper bottles, and I wasn't trying to impress her, just fuck her.
So I poured it extra heavy, would have been a waste if the wine was so cheap.
“No, really. I don't think that I should drink so much.”
This is when I noticed her hair. It was a subtle red. Almost a chestnut color, I think, but I don't have an eye for that. What got my attention was the cut. It was almost like pictures of Cleopatra that I remember, her bangs were cut right above her eyes, and she had hair that fell just above her chest, leading the eye to the promised land of her delicious cleavage. She must have spent an hour on her hair, for there wasn't a single strand out of place, and it was so shiny, it almost looked fake.
So I grabbed a handful of it. Hard. She gasped at how quickly and roughly I moved. I stared at her, watching her squirm at my touch. We sat at a long bench at the wall, so anyone else would think that I was merely caressing my lover. She didn't cry out too loudly, a credit to her and a green light to my wine-soaked nerves. I took the glass that I had filled and held it to her mouth. She looked at me, and for the first time, I noticed the dark brown and green mixing into a sharp hazel color. Add a little terror, and you have one hell of a sight.
When I steeled my gaze, she was able to glean from my behavior that she was in for less of a problem if she went along with what I said, so she opened her mouth for a sip.
“More.” I said, practically sneering.
Her lips parted slowly, tentatively, and I angled the glass a little sharper, getting close to pouring it down her throat. She was almost gulping before I decided to hand it off to her.
“Take it,” I spat out. I had no idea where the animosity towards her came from, but I wasn't hiding it.
She took the glass from me, and to my satisfaction, kept drinking. I interrupted her just long enough to pull the side of her lips apart to allow her to suck on my thumb, which she did in the manner which I expected her to. I didn't realize how much she enjoyed her treatment until she locked her stare with mine and continued to lick my finger, and suck in a manner which I could only describe as perfect.
The swelling in my jeans took notice, and I shifted a bit to allow my blazer to cover my growing erection. I almost regretted wearing a pair so tight at that moment. I broke eye contact to watch her technique, as it was something that felt like I had to be seen it to believe. She held my thumb in her mouth up to the last knuckle, allowing me to cup the side of her face while she went to work. I felt her suckling, but also her tongue passing over my digit, in a way that made simply hiding my growing excitement with my jacket impossible.
I resisted the urge to kiss her, and allowed her to drink more wine, and I decided to reward her participation. I while she finished the glass, I allowed my hand to creep down her face and body, my wet thumb tracing a messily slick trail down her neck and she let out a small gasp as my hand breached the top of her dress, completely oblivious to whomever might happen upon us. For a brief second, I startled myself by my own brazen attitude, regardless of how dim the lighting. I polished off the remainder of my own glass, just in case I was in need of liquid fortification later, and ordered her to fill our glasses, as my left hand was still at the back of her head, and my right was thumbing her nipple.
“Twice as much for you.” I rasped into her ear, she obliged and did as she was told. I gave in a little bit and licked her ear, nibbling it roughly, eliciting a moan from her, which I took as a cue to continue my plunder of her modesty.
“Wait,” she started. I grasped her hair even tighter, causing her to clench her eyes tightly, and she gasped. Almost too loudly. I should have backed off, but instead, I ran my hand from her tits, down her dress, not gently, but as rough as I dared. She had curves that wouldn't quit. Her dress hid more than it showed, but my hands were thoroughly pleased. It broke mid-thigh, so after viciously kneading her legs for a moment, I pushed her wet underwear aside, and slid two fingers into her sex without ceremony, and if she wasn't as soaked through as she was, I would have had to force my way in. I parted her labia effortlessly, and penetrated her with ease. She was remarkably tight, even for my index and middle fingers. I almost had to struggle to fit them both inside of her wet cunt.
She had long since put her glass down, still half full. “Don't waste,” I whispered into her ear, prompting her to empty her glass. I took a small joy in her difficulty at making her lips meet the rim of the wine glass when I started stimulating her g-spot and the nerve cluster below her clitoris simultaneously. I could see her attempting to formulate a protest, but after I bit her earlobe, she simply disposed of the remnants of the wine.
I actually hung for a fat moment. I had her where I wanted her, and I had no idea what to do with her. She almost seemed to catch on for a second, but by then, I could almost watch her as a half bottle of wine impacted her senses.
“I... I don't do this.” Apprehension gripped her so tightly that she reacted physically, pulling away, and causing further pain by backing into my tightening fist. She gritted her teeth at the discomfort, trying to pull away.
It was at this moment that I realized that I didn't know her name.
