Ladies Night

Ladies Night

The warm water pours over Tracy's silky smooth skin, rushing from her knee down her legs like a waterfall coming down a mountain. Washing away the soap and bubbles, revealing her tan skin. Her hand follows behind the rush of water, wiping away any remaining soap and feeling her freshly shaven leg. Her fingertips finding the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and moving down to her soft mound. Under the water of the bath, she gently rubs herself. Moving from her lips up to her pelvis, she plays with and twirls the little patch of hair she has. As she plays, her nails graze her clit, sending a wave of warmth over her body. She lets her fingers move down and rub, gentle circles around, slowly applying more pressure. Thinking about the night to come. Another "Ladies Night" out.

This was going to be the fourth Ladies Night in as many months. Tracy was surprised when her husband was ok with it, in fact he encouraged it. Among the many things she enjoys about these nights is the fact that she gets to dress up. Bill and Tracy rarely go out anywhere nice. It's really just not their thing, but what woman doesn't like to feel classy and elegant now and then. She even bought herself a new outfit this month. She knows she will turn some heads tonight.

Tracy's bath ends with the euphoric high of an orgasm. She always likes to start these nights like that. It helps calm her and remove inhibitions. She steps out of the bath and looks at herself in the mirror. She always knew she was attractive, but didn't always believe it until recently. Turning to look herself over; she has pretty little feet, thin toned legs that look longer than they have any right to with her only being about 5'5", strong thighs lead into a nicely rounded ass that usually only reveals itself in a tight dress or when nude, her stomach flat yet soft and feminie, and her chest small but fitting of her figure. She dries off, watching herself in the mirror as she does. The soft fluffy towel moving over her body feels nice. She watches as her little perky tits bounce when she dries them. Her pink nipples erect, small little areolas contracted. She is very excited for tonight.

About thirty minutes later, Tracy is ready to head out. She comes out of the bedroom and down the hall into the kitchen where Bill is pouring himself a drink. "God damn, I'm not going to have to worry about you tonight am I?" This is the first time Bill has seen this dress and he is stunned. The red dress has a plunging cowl front, giving a beautiful view of her cleavage and the top of her stomach. It is tight around the hips and thighs, stopping above mid thigh. A few inches below the bottom of the dress are the lacey tops of her thigh high stockings. A tight fishnet look that Bill cannot look away from, as she turns around revealing a back seam that catches his eye. He traces it down to her black heels and the back up her legs. Her little round ass filling out the dress just enough for the back of it to be slightly higher than the front and Bill can now see the dress is virtually backless with just a single halter strap around her neck. Her long brown hair, accented with blonde, falling gracefully over her exposed skin.

Tracy spins back around to face Bill, who has now taken a few steps to be closer to her. Biting her lip and looking down at the floor slightly, "Do you like it? You don't mind me wearing it out tonight, do you?" Bill finally reaches her and puts his hand on her hips, looking down into her eyes, "Of course I don't sweety. Who am I to deny the world of your beauty? Besides, you are just going for a few drinks with some friends, right?" Tracy just nods her head and then goes up on her toes a bit to kiss him. They kiss passionately, Bill's hands caressing her hips and ass before she breaks the kiss. "It's time for me to go honey."

Walking into the bar, Tracy can feel eyes on her. Even in the dim lights, she shines bright in the red dress. She finds a seat at the bar and orders herself a rum and coke. Her heart is always racing at the start of the evening and she needs something to calm her nerves. As soon as the bartender brings it over she takes a sip, then places it back on the napkin, tapping her finger against the glass. Her wedding ring clangs musically against the drink. "Shit," she says to herself and quickly takes this and her engagement ring off, putting them into her little clutch purse. Her hand always feels so naked when she takes her rings off. But on these nights out she's not Tracy Simmons, the 26 year old wife of William Simmons. She is whoever she wants to be. Single, sexy, and ready for anything.

Through the background noise, a voice cuts in, breaking her train of thought. "Can I buy you a drink, beautiful?" Tracy doesn't even turn her head to acknowledge him, just raises her glass as she says, "Thanks, but I've already got one." A little smirk on her face. Feeling a bit strong and empowered by turning him down so easily, which was very counter to her normal personality of trying to please everyone. She glances out the corner of her eye and watches him walk back to his friends a little dejected. Taking another sip of her drink as she turns her attention forward again. Across the bar she sees two guys looking in her direction. As she looks over at them confidently, they look at each other pretending to have not been staring.

And this is how her "Ladies Nights" always start. At a new bar, getting attention from all the guys there. Feeling sexier than ever. And they always end the same way too. Crawling into bed with Bill, smelling of sweat and shame, having been fucked not long before but not in their bed. The anticipation and excitement are almost as amazing as the act itself. She squirms a bit in the stool as the feeling rushes over her. And then she sees him. She had glanced over at the door as he was walking in. Tall and well dressed with his hair pulled back and a perfectly groomed beard. He looked equally rugged and kind. His bright blue eyes smiled at everyone he looked at as he moved through the crowd to the bar opposite of her. She hadn't taken her eyes off of him once since he walked in when he looked up at her.

Just as she was about to look away, the bartender saved her. Walking in front of her and offering her another drink. She thanked him and agreed. But when he walked away, the man was still staring. The gaze of his eyes burned through her like two concentrated laser beams focused squarely on her face. She only lasted a second before looking down at her drink. His intensity was too much for her. Turning her head, being sure not to look back up in his direction, she looks back at the table of guys where the man that approached her earlier was sitting. Her admirer notices her looking and gives her a smile, which she takes as a cue to get up and head over.

"Hey there, I'm sorry I was a little rude earlier. A girl can't appear too easy though, you know. Do you mind if I sit?"

Standing up and pulling out a chair, the man offers his hand, "Of course, I'm John, this is Steve and Kevin."

"Tracy, pleased to meet you," she responds, shaking John's hand as she sits down. Tracy makes small talk with them, getting to know John and his buddies. They all work together, finance or something. She is only half paying attention. She can still feel the power of that man's look. As John goes up to the bar to get another round of drinks, Tracy decides to look up and watch him, taking a peak where the man was standing previously, but he is gone. She feels a sense of calm come over herself, but it doesn't last long. As Kevin cracks a little joke and Tracy looks up with a little giggle, she spots her man sitting at a table behind him. Any other time that Tracy has caught a man staring at her, they always look away. But not this time. Not this man. He had no reaction. His face remained stoic and emotionless as he glared into her eyes. Now she cannot look away. She is entranced, held in place. Her body is almost numb except for the butterflies in her stomach.

John places a drink down in front of Tracy as he sits back down. She glances over at him with a forced smile, and then back at the man behind Kevin just to see him getting up and walking away. Quickly losing him in the crowd, she tries to forget about him. There is a perfectly handsome and gentlemanly man sitting next to her trying to chat her up. Kevin and Steve start laughing at something John said, and Tracy joins in even though she didn't hear it. She leans into his shoulder, deciding to turn her attention towards flirting with him. Putting one hand on his forearm, she picks up her drink with the other and downs it fairly quickly. Then places her hand on his cheek, feeling his stubble, and pulls him in to her, whispering in his ear, "Take me out on the dance floor."

They danced for close to an hour. John's hands all over her body. Tracy grinding back into him. But she hardly noticed any of this. The entire time she was on edge. Looking around. Trying to spot the man in the crowd. Sometimes she would think she caught a glimpse of his intense eyes, but when she would look back they would be gone. He was either stalking her the entire time, or she was going absolutely crazy. As the alcohol and intensity of the situation caught up with her brain, Tracy almost collapsed into John's arms.

"Woah, woah, woah.....Are we ok there?" John asks with a laugh, himself somewhat intoxicated.

"I need to go to the bathroom, " she mumbles, pushing herself off of John and turning away. She pushes through the crowd to find the restrooms. Hands touching her as she touches the backs of people she doesn't know. Could one of them be him? As she gets disoriented in the crowd, she finds herself bumping into the corner of the wall. Before she can turn around to find her way, she is pushed back into the corner and a knife blade is pressed into her side.

"Don't you fucking say a word," his voice purred into her ear.

It was him. He had found her. He waited and watched, hunted her down until she was vulnerable and then pounced.

"Nobody comes to a place like this dressed in this dress unless they are looking for one thing."

"I don't know what you are talking about!...Please....Let me go!" Tracy's voice the definition of a whisper scream, shaking like a tree branch in a storm.

His hand moves from her back to between her legs, easily lifting her skirt enough to reach for her pussy. As his hand finds the soft, smooth flesh of her tender core; he berates her, "Dressing like a whore.....not wearing any panties, so you can let any Tom, Dick, and Joe get themselves in ya...especially Dick, eh?!"

"No, no...I swear...I'm just waiting for my girlfriends and they didn't show....I swear...I just want to go home to my husband...."

"Oh, your husband is sound asleep missy, I can assure you that. You know why?" He pauses a second before forcing his middle finger into her dampening cunt. "Because he knows his perfect little wife would never let some stranger use her in the corner of a bar."

The music goes on around them, people continue to dance and laugh. The lights barely ever hit even the heel of his boots, let alone illuminate what is truly happening. Tracy's squeals blend into the music like a well placed triangle rhythm. After a few hard pumps of his arm, he forces another finger into her aching hole.

"Are you going to tell him how filthy this fucking pussy is when you get home? Or are you going to just get into bed with him like nothing happened. 'Ignore the cum dripping from my legs dear, I love you, good night.' Is that how it goes? Well don't worry, he won't be able to ignore what I do to you tonight."

With that, Tracy's squeals turn to full blown, gut wrenching screams. She is immediately hit in the back of the head, sending her forehead into the wall followed by the knife being pressed harder into her side.

"Maybe we need to find something better to do with that mouth sweetheart." His hand yanks from between her legs and she is quickly spun around; the knife immediately moved to her throat and a hand over her mouth. Tracy looks at him with wide open eyes, in complete shock. The hand covering her mouth slowly moves up over her nose and eyes, into her hair; gripping and pushing down until her knees collide with the floor. He presses her face into his crotch, her nose and cheeks rubbing against the rough material of his jeans. He moves her head back and forth as she struggles to breathe and screams into his groin. She can feel the hard thick shaft inside his pants as her face bumps over it over and over. Her hands frantically grab and slap at his thighs trying to stop the abuse.

Tracy's head is pushed back against the wall. The knife pressed tight to her throat, his fist holding the knife pressed to her collar bone holding her in place as he releases his grip on her hair. She doesn't dare scream as she watches him unzip his jeans and reach in, pulling out his full package. Cock plump and meaty with a few thick veins coursing with blood, filling the swollen head so that it's almost painfully engorged. Tufts of hair sticking out above it, and below a large set of balls hang down over his jeans. He grips the shaft in his hand and presses her lips to his fleshy testicles. Jerking himself as he barks down at her, "Open that whore mouth and slobber all over them bitch," his voice cuts through the music and finds her ears, stinging them as his fist pumping on his cock hits the top of her head repeatedly.

Tracy's lips part obediently, her tongue sliding right out as well. The familiar salty taste of a man's flesh fills her mouth as her face is held tight in place. She tries to swirl her tongue to please him, hoping if she does a good job the treatment will get less harsh. It seems to work as his grip loosens, allowing her the freedom to move and lick around. She eventually starts to suck one of his testicles into her mouth. There is no way she can fit both, but she juggles from one to the other. Still stuck in a tight space between him and the wall, and his hand still somewhat holding her in place, she struggles to properly swallow and begins to drool onto him and herself. Dripping from her lips and chin down to her chest, open and exposed by the low cut dress she feels it pouring down between her tits.

Just as she is starting to get acclimated to her situation, her head is pulled back and his cock is thrusted into her open mouth. The shock causes her to squeal on his dick, slapping at his thighs as she struggles to take in his girth. The combination of his size and the force is something she is not used to. Bill's member is quite large, but their sex is always loving and passionate. At home she never gets her mouth used like this. She is still struggling to keep her mouth open wide enough when she feels the head of his cock reach her throat and immediately begins to wrech. This action only causes it to press deeper as thick globs of spit start to pour out all sides of her mouth. If no one else was at the bar right now, it would be filled with the echoing sounds of her mouth and throat being pumped by this man's cock. Instead she is the only one that hears it. As loud in her head as the music the DJ is playing, she hears herself being used while the strangers behind her attacker have no clue what is being done to her.

His hips move like a piston, fucking her face relentlessly. Holding her head off the wall just enough for it to slam back into it with each thrust. Tears stream from her face, mixing with her makeup and saliva like the mix of feelings and emotions that caused them to fall; pain, shame, humiliation, and regret. Her mascara running; she never bothered to buy the good waterproof stuff as she only wears it on these nights out once a month. Trying her best to breath through her nose and during the little reprieves her mouth gets as he pulls out just to thrust right back in. She doesn't know if he has been using her face for a minute or an hour, but she has virtually given up. Her hands are holding the side of his jeans, but not trying to stop his movements. Her mind has accepted that this is happening and that there is nothing she can do to stop it. This is her world until this man is done with her. She didn't even notice that he had put the knife back in his pocket and now has both hands gripping her hair as he uses her throat.

Air fills Tracy's lungs with a big gasp as she realizes her airway is finally clear. A reminder of this hits her in the face quite literally as he slaps his heavy tool over her cheek. The slick slimy coating of saliva covering her cheekbone and eye brow as he hits her with it a few times while she coughs uncontrollably. Gripping her hair again, he pulls her to her feet and spins her around, pushing her face into the corner once again. She can barely stand, her physical and emotional exhaustion making her knees tremble as he props her up. His hands grip the bottom of her dress and yank it up over her ass, the dress so short it didn't have much further to go to reveal her pert little buns. Leaning all of his weight into her, she feels the length of his shaft slide between her cheeks as the tip presses against her pussy.

"I can feel how hot and wet that cunt is. All you want is for me to stretch your married little pussy open, don't you?" His lips on her ear, little droplets of spit coming out as he speaks to her making her feel like a whore. But in this moment, he isn't wrong. She begins to sob with shame as she manages to whimper, "Please...."

He begins to draw back, his cock sliding between her firm bottom, leaving a trail of thick wetness as he laughs, "Do you think I'm going to risk putting my cock in a whores gash?"

His slick helmet finds her asshole and he immediately begins to push forward. His arms wrap around her, one at her waise the other at her chest, and hold her completely still as he enters her. She tries to scream but the pain numbs her mind and body, her eyes rolling back into her head and her legs giving out. She would have collapsed onto the dirty dance floor if not for his tight grip. A growl

deep in his throat vibrates Tracy's ear drums as he gets his cock so deep into her she can feel it in her stomach. His hand around her waist pushing her back as he leans his hips forward.

"I'm sure when you put that dress on tonight you were hoping to get fucked, but it wasn't like this was it?" His debasing words and laughter burn deep into her soul, yet she can't even respond. He immediately starts to fuck her, pulling back half way and diving right back in deep. Hard and fast, holding her up like a doll. His top hand reaches into her dress easily and grabs at her breasts. Big strong hands roughly groping her. To look at her you would think she was unconscious, but she can feel and hear everything. Every thrust of his cock into her ass. Every tight squeeze of her tits. Every degrading comment meant to remind her what a whore she is. It goes on like this for God knows how long.

His final thrust was so hard it lifted her up out of her shoes. Her feet dangled, shiny black heels hanging on to her stockinged toes until they finally slip off and fall on their sides. A deep, "UUUGGHHH," erupts from her core out of her mouth as he fills her with his hot cum. He is eerily silent as she is held up in this position for what feels like a lifetime to allow him to fully drain himself into her. Slowly lowering her back down until her feet struggle to find the floor, still holding her tight in his arms. She feels every little detail of his cock pulling slowly from her ass, followed by a river of thick liquid that finds its way down her thigh to soak into the top of her stockings. For a moment, she can't even remember where she is.