When you’re hunting casual encounters online, you can never tell how each date is going to pan out. Sometimes you hit it off instantly from the first message. Her photos are spectacular, she’s witty – obviously horny – and nothing can go wrong. But it doesn’t work out. Other times, you agree to casual encounters with low hopes and a dick that won’t let give you a moment’s peace. Sometimes, when you don’t have high expectations, and you don’t know what to expect, things can happen that you couldn’t have imagined. This is the story of a Dunedin sex that started just like that, but quickly turned into an unforgettable night of fucking, and much else besides.
It all started when I clicked onto her profile. She looked conventional, ordinary, with the kind of smile that a secretary might give you if she was just doing her job, but secretly didn’t want to see you at all. There weren’t any pictures of her naked or posing in uniforms – the kinds of things that usually got me so horny on casual encounters. It was a basic profile, nothing more. So why was I so obsessed with meeting her? As soon as she replied I was hooked. You could tell that, beneath the normal exterior, this was a woman with secrets. This was someone who loved to suck, fuck, play games – to satisfy your every desire. It must have been something in her eye, but this completely ordinary profile just screamed sex. So we met up that night at a local bar. It was a favourite place for my casual encounters, with private booths, plenty of guys on similar quests for free sex, and people I knew from other kinky occasions. It wasn’t unheard of for people to be found fucking in the toilets, and the barman’s room upstairs was there if you needed it.
We talked for a while. She was charming, professional and seemed to have a well ordered life. She worked in law, I think, and was always climbing the corporate ladder. Things were working our for her. She was in shape, successful and, at this stage of the evening, one of the most boring dates I’d ever been with. Little did I know. I asked her if she had any luck with the free sex scene in the town, and she seemed genuinely surprised. “What do you mean by that?” she asked, with a startled tone. I was worried for a second that I had completely misjudged her, and she had misjudged the site that we were members of. “Do you think I’m some sort of slut?” She said the last sentence in a kind of mocking, silky tone, like a sophisticated movie heroine. Her eyes made it obvious that she was toying with me. “Do you think that professional women like me have time for casual encounters with guys like you?” I wouldn’t have had any comeback to that, but didn’t need any. Her high heeled boots were rising against my legs, and heading into my crotch, where they met a rapidly hardening, force of nature.
We ordered more drinks, and she loosened up. In fact, after a bottle of wine, I was loosening her up in the barman’s room. Her leather boots were wrapped around my neck as I penetrated her with superhuman force. Something drove me into her like never before. It was that look in her eye – totally in control, but totally insatiable. If I could have thought at all, it would have been clear to me that with this girl, free sex was essential. I turned her over and fucked her against the couch. She took another swig of wine from a bottle that we had taken up. “Yesss, fucking yess, stick it, fucking shaft me” she half screamed, half slurred. “I can’t fucking stop.” I tried to say, hammering into her like a piston, uncontrollable and passionately. After about half an hour, we staggered downstairs to get another bottle. The guys at the bar looked up at us and smiled. One of them saluted to my date and whistled. She tried to salute back but, drunk out of her skull, could hardly find her forehead.I excused myself briefly and went to take a piss. My mind was racing and I was still just as hard as ever. The drink had unleashed something within this woman that I had never experienced in my time searching for free sex, and I wanted more. I needed it badly.
When I got back to the bar, it was practically empty. The barstools were empty. The booths were empty. But I wasn’t. I was desperate, but for some reason I wasn’t worried. I had an idea what was going on, but the barman told me everything I needed to know. “Just so you know mate, that drunken nymphomaniac you were with went upstairs with most of the patrons.” I was already climbing the stairs. “Door’s unlocked” he shouted up to me. I didn’t need to be told. No door would have mattered anyhow. Upstairs, it was chaos. At first, I couldn’t see what was going on, there was so much flesh, movement and noise. But soon I saw her legs splayed, rising and falling underneath three of four guys. Two of them were on top and one was underneath. It looked like they had every entrance covered. I’ve never been into group sex during casual encounters, but seeing her work clothes folded neatly on the table and remembering her straight-laced conversation from earlier sent me into a kind of trance. I was going to have a piece of her. So I rushed into the orgy, as hard as any of the drunks and passers by who had come up from the bar. She stretched her neck round and took me in her mouth, all of the time handling four cocks snorting, grunting and frantic for more. It was complete carnage, and it got worse, as she became covered in sperm. Every part of her was coated, from her boot heels to her brown hair.When the last guy came inside her she turned to me, full of desire and energy, with that glint in her eye which attracted me so much. “Aren’t you going to walk me home?” she said, lifting a wine glass to her lips.Honestly, the world of casual encounters is always different. That drunken nympho was just the tip of the iceberg, and I hardly saw her again. Well, I didn’t see her face much, but she may have been upstairs at the bar on one or two occasions. It wasn’t always easy to tell.
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