Barroom Pickup
- 3 years ago
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Barroom Blitz free porn video
“Whatever,” the white wine-swilling woman guffawed, rolling her glossy eyes while unrepentantly mocking the dumpy, middle-aged man’s parlour pickup silliness. Fucking little hobbit, she thought. Respect the goddamned boundaries. She felt his was a hard sell, reeking of overcompensating desperation. But one thing perplexed her.
He could prove it?
Good luck with that, she decided, dismissively giggling at his out-of-league attempt under her vineyard worshipping breath. Move those wide, hairy feet along, middle earth man, she thought while continuing to humour herself with insults before swivelling away from her diminutive suitor on the bar stool that held his attention.
They’d tried many times before. Pick up lines a plenty. She’d thought she’d heard them all. But this? His claim was outlandish; something only derived from the minds of the pathetically deluded and lonely, basement-dwelling virgins. Clearly, LOTR or Dungeons and Dragons overconfidence gone awry.
Her previous, judgemental glance confirmed that this individual was not in contention, a sloppy three or four, at best, to her climbing past nine. Yet, unfazed, he smoothly moved into the focus of her new locale, received her indignation without offence, and returned it with a suspect nod and a knowing wink. He was not meek or dissuaded, but rather, shockingly self-assured. He was relentless. She was not amused but rather intoxicatingly confused.
The room then suddenly changed.
As if lightning approached and readied its high voltage strike, the prickly warning hairs on the back of her neck rose. The front of her arms and legs felt the excited chills. A blood-rushing throb pulsed in her ears, subduing the room’s music and after work chatter, and a crisp breeze washed over her flushed cheeks and throat. And her most sensitive parts, the parts she had arrogantly refused this man, began to lightly tingle.
“Oh shit,” she mouthed to herself as she shifted again on her bar stool, trying desperately to fan herself with splayed fingers. She felt drugged. Did he slip something into her drink? What the hell is happening?
And so it began.
Eyes widened as pupils dilated. Hot and cold flashes with palms of wet. Gently furrowed brow of concern as the intensifying sensations washed over her weakened, submitting body. Her hardened nipples now expressively pressed through her lace bra and against her taut blouse, and her growing arousal liberally misted her panties, dispensing moisture while her pussy suspiciously vibrated like her favourite toy. Her insides began to ache with need and of her own desperation.
“Bloody hell,” she sheepishly groaned through her trembling fingertips. “What the fuck is... what the hell... what are you doing to me?”
“Demonstrating that I’m a can-do guy who tells no lie.”
“What?” she panted, squinting at his incredulousness, perplexed by another cheesy, seemingly well-rehearsed salesmanship line that seemed to be working. Yet, she was still unsure about what was happening. It felt like a force, a sensational presence, was moving her forward, or rather, up and down.
Her legs unknowingly had involuntarily spread apart and prepared to act like pistons, causing her skirt to hike up, revealing the moistened crotch of her clinging panties. Her black lace bra was also exposed, pushing past her unbuttoned blouse. Those glorious nipples now acted like beacons, announcing her body’s readiness and intent.
While still straddling the bar stool, she felt an incredible urge to rise and fall as if she was riding a lengthy, mystical cock. She felt the heat and hardness of its presence, then the fullness of something resting inside, stretching her walls to their fullest potential. She deliriously craved to feel it move so she surrendered to her desire, and anchored the heels of her shoes on the stool’s metal footrests. She prepared to fuck and be fucked. Seemingly, place and witnesses be damned. She was completely under his control.
“P... please... I don’t understand this but I can’t... not here... “
“You can’t,” he devilishly grinned, “Or you won’t?”
“I shouldn’t, please... “
He ignored her plea and continued with torment by turning her whole body into a hyper-aroused erogenous zone. Her glazed eyes followed the path of his as she felt them travel along the flushed skin of her vulnerable body. His gaze moved and fixated on her breasts, twisting each of her nipples before traveling between her parted legs and gently circling her clit.
He then brought her eyes back to his and when he licked the center of his upper lip, she felt his tongue rimming her puckered hole. She found herself begging, pleading for penetration. She then felt it. He had entered her like an entity, coursing through her body like a burgeoning orgasm.
“Oh God,” she gasped from the intensifying pleasure, fighting something she could not resolve or control. “I shouldn’t... not here... please... “
“Are you sure?” he mockingly asked. “I could make it happen right now. With witnesses and admiring fanfare. You’d become legendary. It would be spectacular for you.”
“No... please no... “ she breathlessly pleaded again, her fear-filled eyes darting back and forth scanning for familiar stares and unwanted faces, as she slowly ground herself into the wooden seat while gripping her conservatively coiffed hair with one fist and clutching an almost fully exposed breast with another.
“Or, if you prefer, I could indefinitely hold you here, playing with the ebb and flow of your sexual agony, dangling you over the edge of a beautiful orgasm without releasing you. Would you prefer that?”
“Oh God, NO!” she pleaded, shaking her head from side-to-side. “Please no. Not that either. I can’t take much more of this.”
“Then what?” he calmly asked, like a moderately conflicted sociopath already knowing the premeditated outcome. “Tell me. What it is that you’d like?”
Weakened and entranced, rocked to her very core, her shaking hand reached into her purse and slid to him her hotel room keycard. She then struggled with the idea but whispered the words, “Please fuck me. I need you inside.”
Pleasurable words he wanted to hear.
He offered the unraveling woman an assuming, self-assured smile, then gave her another dose of reluctant hope before unceremoniously abandoning his orgasmic wizardry. He left her dangling at the leading edge; only requiring a little nudge to send her over. But he stopped.
With the control of her faculties slowly returning, her disappointed anticlimax glared at him in delirious disbelief. It was unbelievable. She wanted him more than any man she’d wanted before. She was an absolute, fucking mess.
“So, interested in that drink now?” he asked.
But before she could answer, with her glass of white wine in hand, he approached another attractive woman, leaving behind a disheveled mess of arrogance and contempt.
Bess
- 14.09.2020
- 22
- 0
- Category:
- Mind Control
