Ron & Bridgette: part 5

by Sean Porter

 

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Ron leaned back against the faded red padding in his booth, trying not to look too uncomfortable. The hard, cracked seat cushion was irritating enough, but the haze of smoke over his head and the constant din of rude comments and barking laughter coming from the seedy, unsavory characters who filled the bar were definitely not his element. He'd thought that smoking had been outlawed in all commercial establishments for quite some time now, but this one seemed not to have taken notice.

Where was she? He didn't want to spend any more time in this dump than he had to. This hadn't even been his idea, though he had to admit to himself that he had eagerly agreed to it. It was the kind of the thing that a man would usually have to work pretty hard to talk his girlfriend into doing, and probably even more so if it was his wife. But his wife was one hell of a good catch, and he knew it, so it was only a little bit surprising when she had suggested the idea, went over her plan with him, and watched his eyes light up like a Jack-o’-lantern’s.

There she was now. He sunk a little lower in the seat and just watched as Bridgette entered the bar and, without even trying, immediately owned it.

She was wearing a black leather miniskirt, so tight around her sculpted behind that every movement of her powerful glutes was stupefyingly apparent, and so short that anyone less than six feet tall would have had no problem telling you the color of her thong.

The thong, which was as skimpy and string-like as they come, was black to match not only the miniskirt, but the unapologetically slutty fishnet stockings which she had slid her long, shapely legs into. Her stiletto heels were an eye-popping five inches, and made her already well-defined gams look even more curvaceous.

If you could tear your eyes from her lower half for long enough, her upper body was enough to make your heart beat hard enough to crack your ribs. She wore a tight, red tube top, cut low across the chest and high over the tummy, and over that a black leather vest which hung open, just framing her mouth-watering cleavage. Her appetizing neck and wrists were decked with plenty of gold and diamonds (most of them fake, Ron knew, but the effect was dazzling), and long, flashy earrings hung from her delicate earlobes. On top of it all, she was wearing far too much makeup, her lips crimson red and her eyelids painted a dramatic purple-blue, complete with thick, long, black lashes.

She was a walking heart condition, sexy enough to make you think you didn't stand a chance and slutty enough to make you think you did. In this type of bar, women dressed like her were available for $20 an hour, but women as beautiful as her didn't exist. Ron watched placidly as the atmosphere changed, the volume of conversation dropping subtly and every eye turning to gaze longingly, if suspiciously, at her.

His heart was pounding, but it was nothing compared to what most of the other hearts in the bar were going through. He at least was used to her mind-scrambling sex appeal; his palpitations were caused mainly by the part he was now going to play in this little charade. But, as they had planned, for now he simply sat and watched, occasionally sipping his cheap beer.

It took a minute or two before they started, but inevitably, one at a time, they approached her. A slow parade of thick, tattooed arms, ripped jeans and scruffy, two day beards, casually sitting down next to her and trying out their best lines, which wasn't saying much. "Buy you a beer?" was far too pedestrian. "Come here often?" Ridiculous. One of them simply decided to ask her how much she charged. When a rather large and ugly gentlemen mustered up a, "Heaven must be missing an angel," she went as far as to reward him with a sweet smile and soft coo of thanks. But one after another, they were failing.

Ron waited until there were four or five fairly large guys around her, shamelessly trying for her attention, before he made his move.

"Excuse me, miss."

She turned her head slightly, barely acknowledging him.

"Mind if I sit here?"

She shrugged, nodding at him without the slightest glimmer of recognition.

He took a long pull of liquid courage, conscious that every biker and thug in the place was now staring at him. This was their turf, after all, and if they couldn't cut through this lady's ice they sure as hell weren't going to let some khaki-wearing pansy touch her.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, you look absolutely gorgeous," he said quietly but confidently.

That brought a smile from her, her ruby lips parting to show a perfect row of teeth. "Thank you," she breathed. Her voice was like syrup.

"In fact, you look so incredibly goddamn hot," he continued, his face growing red, "that I would really like to take you back to my place and fuck you senseless."

She turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. The air in the bar was electric. Breaths were held; glasses were paused halfway to mouths.

"Fuck me senseless, huh?" The words dripped from her mouth as if they were juice from her pussy.

"Yup," Ron replied, downing another swig. "I mean, I just wanna rip your clothes off and ram my hard cock into you over and over again."

By now, almost a dozen or so very well-built men were ready to beat Ron to a pulp, but there was something in Bridgette's self-possessed manner which caused them to hold back. She seemed quite capable of handling this herself. She swiveled her barstool towards him, crossing her legs in a manner that would have stopped traffic, and curled her lip in a sexy half smile.  "Tell me more," she said quietly.

Ron's voice was steady and calm as he began to describe in detail what he wanted to do to her body.  He was talking only to her, but he could be easily heard by most of the bar, what with how quiet it had now become.

"I'm warning you, I wouldn't hold back," Ron continued, his mouth dry.  "Probably wouldn't even give you time to get undressed...I'd just slam you up against a wall, shove your skirt up around your waist and fuck you like a wild animal.  I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Bridgette didn't reply, but her eyes were dancing.  She arched her back a little.

"I might give you a few minutes to recover from that, but then I'd start playing with your body.  I'd just do whatever I want with it, like it belonged to me.  I'd probably start with your tits.  God, they're amazing.  I bet you'd love me to just squeeze them as hard as I can.  I'd pinch your nipples until they were hard as nails, then push your breasts together and slide my dick back and forth between them until you begged me to cum all over them."

"Oooh," Bridgette purred, gasping just a little.

"And I bet your ass is as hard as a rock.  I'd like to flip you over and smack it hard.  I bet you're such a dirty little slut, you'd just love that."

She blushed just a little as he said this, glancing at the floor and squirming a little.

"After that, I might let you suck my cock, if you ask nicely.  I just know you'd be dying to feel it filling your mouth, so hard and thick, pushing right down your throat..."

He didn't get any farther, because at that moment Bridgette practically fell forward off her barstool and planted her lips against his.  Her kiss was hard, wet, desperately horny.  She shoved her tongue into his mouth, her hands gripping his arms tightly.  When she finally pulled herself back from his face, she grunted, "Let's get out of here."

Almost stepping over the dropped jaws that surrounded them both, they half-walked, half-ran for the door.  Not a single eye left Bridgette's round bottom until the door slammed shut behind them.  Only then did the bartender glance back to the stool where Bridgette had been sitting.  His eyes popped out as he noticed the thick, clear liquid which completely coated the seat and was dripping down into a puddle on the floor.  It would be much later that evening when he also noticed the slight indentations in the bar top, about the size and shape of four slender, feminine fingers.

* * * * * * *

As they scurried away from the seedy bar, Ron fought down his raging hormones and grinned at his wife.  "That was so awesome," he chuckled, expecting Bridgette to break character and laugh with him.  Instead, she only smiled all the more seductively.

"It sure was, big boy," she cooed.  "What's your name?"

"Uh...Ron," he blurted, suddenly realizing that their little game wasn't over yet.  "What's yours?"

"Anything you want it to be, baby," she shot back.  Grabbing his hand, she pulled him down a dark alley.

"I want you right here, right now," she moaned, leaning back against a cold brick wall.  "Take me just like you said you would...rip my clothes off and fuck me senseless!"  Her back was arched, her breasts heaving as she gasped for breath.  Her skirt was already riding up around her waist as she spread her legs wide.

"Oh man," Ron moaned back, his hormones revving into high gear.  This seemed like a bad idea, but it was becoming very hard to think straight...

Unfortunately, at that moment they realized they were not alone.  From the other end of the alley, several footsteps could be heard, getting louder as they approached.  Bridgette tugged her skirt back down, turning to face the six large men as they stood blocking the way out.  One was holding a crowbar, another a 2x4, and two more carried baseball bats.  All had arms as thick as Ron's legs, and none looked very pleased.

"Step aside, little lady," the one in the front said.  "We're planning on teaching your friend here a thing or two about how things work in these parts."

"You might be used to getting away with shit like that, buddy," another said, smacking his bat into a palm the size of a dinner plate, "but not on our turf."

Bridgette pouted, thrusting out her chest a little as Ron tried to act tough while hiding behind her.  "Aww boys, you're not gonna ruin my fun, are you?"

"Maybe after we're done, you'll forget about this pipsqueak and have some real fun with us," grinned a third thug.

"Oh, I think I'll have my fun with you first," she replied with a smirk.  She turned her back on them for a moment, letting them drool over her taut, rounded buttocks as they bulged out the bottom of her miniskirt.  "Baby, I'm sorry about this.  You'll just have to wait until I'm finished playing with these nice men.  But I promise..." she added, running a fingertip down the side of his face, "...it will be worth the wait."  Ron nearly melted, stepping back from her and leaning against the wall to watch.

Turning back around, Bridgette cracked her knuckles.  "Okay boys," she said.  "I'm ready for you."

As she stepped toward them, the thugs looked uncomfortably at each other.  What was she going to do, fuck them all?  That didn't sound so bad, but they were ready for a fight.  The first one started to stammer, "Hang on missy..." but he didn't get any further.

"Can I see your crowbar for a second?" she asked him sweetly.  Without waiting for a response, she jerked the iron tool from his meaty hand and gripped it in her two small ones.  Ron smiled and allowed himself to enjoy the sight of it slowly bending into a U-shape as the astonished gang of hooligans gawked, their mouths hanging open.  Once Bridgette had shaped it into a loop, she paused, gently taking a baseball bat from another member of the mob and slipping it through the hole with a seductive grin.  She slid it back and forth a couple times, making sure the innuendo was unmistakable, then gripped the two ends of the crowbar again.  Planting her feet wide apart and striking her most intimidating pose, she pulled the ends tight until the iron loop closed on the bat, first splintering it, then crushing it, then splitting it in half completely.

"Oops!  I'm sorry," she cooed in her highest, most ditzy voice.  "I didn't mean to play so rough with your toys!  Here, you can have them back."  She handed the wrecked remnants to the first man, enjoying his shocked expression as he examined them for any sign of trickery.  Evidently, none was to be found.

She stepped up to him, standing so close the points of her hard nipples at the ends of her heaving breasts were nearly brushing his chest with each breath she took.  "Now," she barely whispered, "you still want to play with me?"  To emphasize her point, she reached for the front of his jeans.  Gripping the waistband in her delicate fingers, she slowly curled him up off the ground, six inches, then a foot.  He hung in midair, suspended from her half-outstretched arm, her sleek bicep tense but rock steady.  He choked and gasped, clearly uncomfortable with his position, while his buddies just shook their heads in awe, their own crotches feeling nearly as tight as his did.  She gave him a little shake, for emphasis.  "I suggest you leave my friend alone.  I'm rather anxious to get his cock in me, otherwise I'd show you what I can really do.  Now's your chance to leave in one piece."

She gently set him down, and all six of the men silently turned and dashed out of sight.  Bridgette laughed, calling after them, "And try learning how to treat a lady!"

Pretending to brush dust from her hands, she turned back to Ron to find him staring at her with naked lust in his eyes.  No words were necessary now; she simply threw herself at him, grinding her wet pussy against the throbbing lump in his jeans as he torn open her leather vest and ripped right through her tight shirt to get his hands on her rock hard breasts.  She moaned with delight, her head tipping back to grant him full access.  A second later, his pants were in shreds on the ground and his cock was pounding deep into her cunt.  Her shriek of pleasure echoed off the cold brick walls of the alley.  She lifted one leg up around his waist, pulling herself onto him harder, unable to think about anything but taking his hard cock as deep as she possibly could.  Her left hand reached up and found the bottom rung of a fire escape ladder.  She gripped it tightly for balance, enjoying the sound of the metal whining in her grip.  In the next moment, she raised herself up slightly and let herself drop back down hard on his cock, feeling it drive straight into her g-spot.  She did it again, and felt electric jolts of pleasure shoot through every fiber in her body.  Her body trembled uncontrollably; even her fingers and toes tingled.  Her skin felt on fire.  On the edge of consciousness, she grabbed the ladder with both hands and started to pull herself up and down on Ron's cock as he squeezed her breasts with both hands and sucked her neck.  She let out an unrestrained scream as an orgasm exploded deep within her pulsating cunt.  She gushed hot fluid down her thighs, coating Ron's cock as he continued to drive it deep within her.  He grabbed onto her gyrating hips and slammed himself into them over and over.  Bridgette gritted her teeth, rivers of sweat flowing down her naked body, and roared her satisfaction as a second climax, a third, a seemingly never-ending string of them, shook her body and paralyzed her mind.

Finally overcome by pleasure, Ron sunk his fingers into her rock hard ass and shot his load deep into her.  She responded with one last outburst of ecstatic screams, and folded the ladder completely in half while still hanging from it.  Finally she dropped into his arms, her legs clamped tightly around his waist, and he fell back against the alley wall.  Both panting with exhaustion, they could only smile at how well the night had gone.

"I wonder which idea we should try next..." Bridgette mumbled into Ron's shoulder.

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The End