I was a mess after Jake left. Two years married, and poof—gone. Said I was too vanilla, too safe. I cried for weeks, blaming myself. Felt like shit, you know? Guilty, ugly inside. Then my bestie Lisa calls. « Girl, fuck that noise, » she says. « You’re 27, hot as hell. Time to live. Get out, flirt, fuck whoever. Freedom’s your new bitch. » Her words stuck. I shaved my pussy smooth that night, staring in the mirror. Legs shaky, but excited. Heart pounding.
Next Friday, I hit this dive bar downtown. Tight black dress hugging my curves, no bra—nipples poking through. Smells of stale beer and fried food hit me as I slide onto a stool. Order a vodka soda, ice clinking. This guy next to me—tall, tattooed arms, stubble shadowing his jaw—turns. « Rough night? » His voice gravelly, eyes locking on my tits. I laugh, nervous. « More like rough life. Ex just bailed. » He grins, leans in. Mint on his breath mixed with whiskey. « His loss. I’m Ryan. Buy you another? »
We talk. Easy. His hand brushes my thigh under the bar—electric spark. Skin tingles. « You smell amazing, » he murmurs. Vanilla lotion and my wet pussy already. Two drinks in, I’m buzzed, thighs squeezing. « Wanna get outta here? » I whisper. He nods, pays, grabs my hand. Outside, cool night air on my flushed skin. His truck’s nearby—big, black. We stumble in the back seat, door slamming shut. Windows fogging fast.
His mouth crashes mine. Rough kiss, tongue invading, tasting salty pretzels from the bar. Hands everywhere—squeezing my ass, pulling my dress up. « Fuck, you’re soaked, » he groans, fingers sliding into my panties. I gasp—wet squelch as he rubs my clit. Swollen, throbbing. « Been too long, » I moan, grinding against his palm. Smell of leather seats and his arousal fills the cab. I yank his shirt off—chest hairy, muscles hard. Nipples dark, I bite one. He hisses.
Pants unzip—his cock springs out. Thick, veiny, pre-cum glistening at the tip. Smells musky, manly. I wrap my hand around—hot, pulsing. « Suck it, » he demands. I bend, lips stretching wide. Salty taste floods my mouth as I take him deep. Gagging a bit, slurping sounds echoing. His hand in my hair, guiding. « Yeah, like that. Good girl. » I hum, vibrations making him buck.
Can’t wait. I climb on, straddling. Dress bunched at my waist. Guide his cock to my entrance—slick heat. Sink down slow. Inch by inch, stretching me full. « Ohhh, » I whimper, walls clenching. So deep, hitting spots Jake never did. He grabs my hips, thrusts up—wet smacks filling the truck. Bouncing hard, tits jiggling. Sweat beads on my skin, dripping salty between us. « Ride me, baby, » he grunts. I lean back, hands on his thighs—better angle, clit grinding his base. Pressure builds, coiling tight.
Flip me doggy—ass up, face against seat. Cooler air on my pussy lips. He slams in—balls slapping my clit. « Tight as fuck, » he growls. Fingers dig bruises into my hips. I push back, moaning loud. « Harder… yes! » Orgasm crashes—pussy spasming, gushing wet around him. Squirting a little, soaking his thighs. He doesn’t stop—pounding, grunting animal. « Gonna cum, » he warns. « Inside? » I nod, desperate. Hot spurts fill me—pulse after pulse. Leaking out as he pulls free.
We collapse, panting. His cum trickles down my thigh, sticky. Kiss soft now, his fingers tracing my spine. « That was insane, » I whisper. He chuckles. « Come back anytime. » I dress, legs wobbly, pussy sore and satisfied. Drive home buzzing. Lisa was right. Freedom tastes like cum and second chances. I’m alive again.
(Word count: 628)