12 comments/ 107201 views/ 17 favorites Nice Dress... Very Nice Dress By: janus6988 "Nice dress. Very nice dress." Kerri hugs and kisses her girlfriends on her way down the table. As she leans forward to greet each one, my attention wanders down the line of her jaw and neck that leads to the clean white seam of flesh that is her cleavage. Nice dress? Nice tits. Very nice tits. A smile lights her face as she walks to her chair, speared in the spotlights from the hung ceiling like a throne. I inhale deeply but quietly to catch her scent as she passes behind my chair, and I catch an aromatic profile that sends a wake up call streaming down my stomach directly to my testicles. Spiced perfume, great tits, and a nice ass. Five alarm fire lit by a subtle smell of woman. Not a chance. She works for you, stupid. Can't fuck the company's daughters. Daddy gets angry. Tedious conversation mixed with the standard social bullshit. Cows browsing and mooing and chewing their cud. And a woman at the end of the table who is the antithesis of all things bovine, and whose curve of breast and oh-so-slightly erect nipples keep catching the corner of my eye. Dessert comes and goes. Coffee and mints on the house. Then the bill for the group on my personal card, and the hot, wet air of Windsor in July. "Dancing? Sure, I'm in..." to get my hands in the small of that back and press those gorgeous tits into my chest. Grind of bit of semi-hard cock into that plush, tight belly on a slow song and see what happens to those nipples when she looks me in the eyes and feels my cock against her thighs. Goddamit, quit thinking. Cleavage. Tits rising and falling with her breath as she walks. A thin film of sweat on her neck as she stands in the club's sidewalk queue. Tight ass. Nice dress. Very nice dress. Eyes up, dammit. What's the problem? You don't even have to dance with her much less fuck her. Keep your eyes above those luscious tits and you'll be fine. She's not the only fuckable woman here. Pick a drunk Detroit slut with big tits and a short memory who can't remember her boyfriend's name and will forget yours tomorrow. Make her cum a couple of times. Fill her full of cock. Cum on her tits and in her loose, sloppy cunt. Call her a cab and send her back over the river. Past the bouncer. Wink at the coatcheck girl. Short walk to the club's VIP room. Cold beer and a cute barkeep. She says she gets off at two and if I play my cards right I'll be hip dip in cute, tight blonde by two-thirty. Tap on the shoulder. Smell of spice and woman. Don't turn around. For fuck's sake, don't turn around. Jiminy Cricket my hairy ass. Turn around. Tight nipples showing through a dress already damp and translucent with sweat, holding a G&T and smiling. Tits keeping time with the music as she bounces to a dance tune the world will forget tomorrow. Dark hair, matted to her forehead with sweat. Big brown eyes. Confident grin. Bright, sharp teeth. A drop of sweat begins a slow and satisfying trip from behind her ear, down her neck, and into her cleavage. Tasty drop of salt slides down the line of her mated breasts to soak into an already damp dress clinging to body parts God made for licking and sucking and fucking. Fresh round. Invitation to dance. An evil eye from the blonde barkeep, then the three stairs down to the pit and bright lights baking my skin as I follow the tits, the ass, the smile, and the smell of woman onto a dance floor crowded with bouncing, random life signs in real Hilfiger and fake Prada. Bass fades, DJ cuts in with a request. Slow song. Vague feeling of a setup as a friend catches Kerri's eye. DJ spins damp silk and my hands settle into the small of her back as she leans back, presses her stomach against mine, and wraps her wrists around my neck. Casual talk over the music about work, about dancing, about nothing. Sweaty cleavage just eight inches under my nose. Tits brushing my chest. The smell of spice and woman in my nose. A slowly rising cock that begins to press against her thigh. A subtle but unmistakable withdrawal as she feels the soft ridge of my flesh on her leg. A question in her posture as she wonders whether to pull away. A moment of hesitation, then a confident pressure of her thighs once more on my dick as it stretches down my left pant leg. A damp, clinging dress and the gentle but persistent pressure of her hip on my cock. Her head rises from my shoulder and she meets my eyes. She winks. Just once. An understanding. A hand strays down my shoulder, my chest, my thigh. An upturned mouth and a quickening of breath. Dark eyes, nipples pushing through the dress. An acceptance of arousal. A reply to an unasked question posed by my cock on her hip. Her thigh against my cock sending a quiet confirmation. A proposal. A decision. A demand. For later. Fuck later. I take her hand in mine at the end of the song and lead her off the dance floor to the bar, three deep in mindless Yanks with boring green money. I push her into the crowd with my body. I feel the precum in my underwear and press my imprisoned dick into the crack of her ass, cock pushing against the fabric of my pants and sliding between her asscheeks. The crowd complains, but parts for us, and we find ourselves at the rail, between two stools owned by drunk frat brothers in reversed baseball caps, minds glazed into submission by their latest discovery of hard lemonade. Pussies. The barkeep down the way wades through a sea of green money and cheap drinks, too busy to look at anyone not waving cash. The crowd is packed three deep and I feel other bodies behind me pushing to get to the rail. My hands leave her sides and I push them under her arms slowly, reaching up and taking a perfect breast in each hand, squeezing them slowly as the alcoholic masses press on and by. I feel more than hear the moan as I grope her tits, and she raises her head until it bumps into my chest. She reaches down with her right hand, presses thin fingers between our bodies, and tries to grab my cock through my pants. Her left hand holds the rail as she pushes her thighs back against mine, dry fucking through our clothes as her right hand presses against my blood-filled, precum soaked cock. I pull my hands away from her tits and drop them to her hips. I find a fold of fabric on each side with two fingers. I lift her dress an inch. An invitation. A challenge. She hesitates. She waits. She thinks. She decides. The fingers of her right hand stop groping my bound cock and rise to my fly. She pauses there. An inquiry. A reply. I slowly start snaking her dress up her hips and folding it against her waist, an inch at a time. The hem of her dress rises above her knees and keeps moving north. This time I hear the moan, and she arches her hips against me, touching my cock with her ass and my chest with her collarbone, leaning her head on my right shoulder as I work. Her hand squeezes between her pert ass and my thick cock. I pull my hips back two inches and wait, her hand now free to move between our bodies. I pull her dress up another unmistakable three inches. The bottom hem of her dress is just below her ass, hidden by the two occupied stools on either side and the crush of ignorant bodies just behind. I wait while I caress her waist with my fingertips. Her fingers flutter and search. Five buttons on my fly. Five flicks of her wrist as she cuts the chains that bind my painfully erect cock hostage. She reaches inside my open fly. Finds the upper hem of my boxers with her fingertips. She reaches down three inches and finds the slit. Two inches farther and finds the single button. Twists it open deftly. She brushes the broad girth of the base of my cock that is exposed through the hole with the back of her trembling hand for a moment, then she lifts her hand a few inches and slips her fingertips inside the slit, pressing back and down to grasp the instrument that she will soon be playing. Her fingers find the sticky precum on the shaft of my cock and she rubs it into her fingers and into the flesh of my penis, then curls her fingers gently around the girth of my dick. She feels my inaudible groan, and her breath catches. Reaching down yet farther, she encircles my cock with her fingers, grips, and sweeps her slick, sticky fist up the first four inches of my cock until her fingers press up into the soft flesh at the hilt of my cock. I feel my eyes rolling and my testicles rise. With an inhuman effort I refuse to cum in my pants. Her fingers curl, painfully hard, around the base of my cock still stretching down my pantleg. She twists, shimmies, and bends the shaft of my cock up until it's horizontal in my pants. She pushes her hand deep into my pants and to the left, grabs my cock just under the head, and yanks hard once to the right. Not far enough, but I gasp in pain as she bends my cock almost in half. She hears it and doesn't care. She yanks again, harder, and the pain makes me bend slightly at the waist. She strokes me gently, whispering promises to me with her fingers if I can take just one more painful tug. I lean forward and whisper two words in her ear above the dance music that both of us are ignoring. "Do it." She nods, grips tightly, and wrenches my cock out of my boxers and jeans. Panting in pain and anticipation now that my cock is free, I move forward quickly, pressing the length of my slippery, erect cock through her fist and under the hem of her raised dress, shoving my sticky erection through her tight, slippery fingers and into the humid space between her slightly parted legs under her panties and hidden by the fabric of her raised dress. I look around as casually as I can while desperately trying not to cum as I hang under her pussy between her legs. She doesn't know how close I am, and she presses her fist into the flesh at the base of my cock, measuring the length and girth of my erection with her fingertips. I reach down quickly with my right hand, squeeze it between our bodies, and grip the inside of her wrist with two fingers, pressing down hard against the nerve. Her fingers go numb and she releases my cock, immediately understanding. She stands motionless in front of me, not daring to move in case she touches my cock with her legs and pushes me over the edge. A full minute passes as I hang erect between her legs and wait for the urgency to fade. The barkeep passes by and grabs her glass. Offers to refill it with a purposeful glance. Kerri nods a brief negative. The barkeep moves on. I caress her thighs while we wait. She taps her fingers on the bar. Impatient. She spreads her legs slightly and shuffles back two inches so she can lean forward slightly on the rail. I scuffle back with her and step on the toes of an anonymous asshole who pushes me. My cock presses firmly between Kerri's thighs and she flexes and moans, thinking it was my thrust and not the asshole behind me who pressed my hidden cock between her hips. She arches her back and starts to move her thighs softly against me. Ready or not, time to step up. I reach down under the hem of her dress with my left hand and move my fingers forward, sliding fingertips along the skin of her ass as I search for the hem of her underwear. Hoping for a thong. Not finding a thong, Tight cotton panties. I slip my fingers inside the hem, pull her panties away from her skin, and grip a fold of fabric with the fingers of my left hand. I reach down with my right hand, caressing her right asscheek with fresh fingertips as I move my fingers forward under her warm, humid hips. She moans and gently shakes her head, not knowing what I'm doing and not caring. I slip my fingers inside the hem, grip the fold of fabric with two fingers of my left hand and two fingers of my right and start to pull. The thin fabric tears in the narrowest part of the damp garment – the part that hangs directly below a cleanshaven and inhumanly warm pussy that shivers as I brush it unintentionally with the back of my fingers. I tear her panties farther. Then I turn my fingertips, press them slowly up through the wide damp hole, and slowly insert two fingers into her sopping, syrupy vulva as I feel a moan tear from her. I feel her lean more heavily on the bar and try to arch her ass to better position her now completely sodden thighs against my hips. I pull my hips back five inches, until the entire seven inches of my cock is withdrawn from under her hips and hangs under the hidden hem of her dress behind her ass. I press forward ever-so-slowly until the skin of the head of my cock brushes against the exposed skin of her slippery, shaven pussy. I fight down the sensation to penetrate her. I wait. She hesitates for a few seconds before she understands. In that few seconds I can feel her breath. I can smell the wet, eager cunt hidden under her dress. She trembles, and I can feel the tension in her legs. She's eager to feel the head of my cock push open the lips of her pussy and move slowly up into the channel of her cunt. But I won't take it without permission. Without a sign. And she gives me one. I can feel a slow rocking motion start in her thighs, and the warm, wet skin of her exposed but hidden vulva slides over a mere half-inch of the shaft of my cock. Any more motion and it might be seen. But if I simply lift my cock into line with her vagina and step forward, I can be inside her and no-one will know. So I do. I lower my right hand under the hem of her dress, grip the shaft of my erection, and raise it into a position where her rocking motion will move the slit of her pussy against the head of my cock. I lean forward an inch. I feel her moan again as she realizes what I'm doing, and she pushes back two inches from the bar onto my hard, unforgiving, penetrating flesh without hesitation. The head of my cock slips down the slit of her pussy the first time, brushing over her clit. She trembles, and holds herself still for me. I move my hips back, raise the head of my cock another half inch, look around at the drunken chaos in the bar, and press my cock forward a second time. The flesh of my cockhead presses open the lips of her vulva, and her body kisses my cock with a hot, wet embrace that leaves me panting. Making sure the head of my penis is well trapped by the mouth of her vulva, I move my hand up from the shaft of my penis and place it back on her right hip. She's trembling. The barkeep passes again, and I can feel the tension run through Kerri's back as she holds my cock with the mouth of her vagina, fearing discovery. The barkeep passes without so much as a nod, and Kerri relaxes in front of me. I move my hips forward another inch, a motion so small as to pass for immobility in a bar filled with weaving, drunken dancers. But as the head of my cock knocks against the muscular door of her slippery, clenching cunt, she feels the extra inch as a substantial presence widening the tight mouth of her vagina. She leans forward more heavily on the rail, the curve of her spine and position against the bar making it obvious to anyone who cares that her cunt is slowly being filled with warm, hard cock. No-one cares, so no-one sees. She's wet, and hot, and tight. I lift my left foot and step forward slowly, drawing my hips back until I find my footing. Then, slowly, I move my hips forward. Ten unbelievable seconds pass as my cock presses her open and I climb up into her glorious, fragrant cunt. My testicles rest between the lower curves of her asscheeks, and the head of my cock twitches seven thick inches inside her next to her cervix. I hear her breathing hard above the music, loud and ragged, and a drunken frat brother to our right on a stool turns his head to look at the commotion to his left. His glazed eyes pass over us with indifference, taking in her raised and bundled dress, her desperate breathing, and my thighs pressed close to her ass without comprehension, and the alcoholic haze reclaims him as he turns his head back to his hard lemonade. My cock is held firmly by a high quality, hot, wet, eager cunt, clenching rhythmically on my flesh as she feels me move two inches backward and forward inside her pulsing vagina. Her ass cheeks rotate almost imperceptibly as she grinds herself on me and her breathing settles into a steady groove. I watch as she lifts her right hand lifts to her right breast and begins to squeeze her own flesh to the beat of the music and the subtle rhythm of my cock deep inside her body. I move my hips against her harder, in time to the music, drawing my cock four and five inches back before sweeping it quickly back up into her gleefully weeping cunt. I can feel the syrup from her pussy run down my testicles, going who the hell cares where. I look around anxiously as I fuck her at the bar and try to keep my upper body rigid as my hips keep a steady beat of attack and retreat into a woman gifted with incredible tits and the sweetest cunt I've ever fucked. The comical image of an Irish dancer flits through my mind, torso rigid and hips and feet frantically flying, just as my cock flies within Kerri's almost horizontal frame as she leans on the rail. The blonde barkeep catches my eye and offers a broad grin. She picks up a full bottle of beer and rips the cap off. Before she hands it to the drunkard at the bar who ordered it, she thrusts the neck sensually up through a clenched fist, then nods pointedly at Kerri's gently bobbing body as I fuck her. Smartass omnipotent bitch. I grin gently in return, then focus all my attention on the fine ass and hot cunt grinding my cock towards an orgasm under my willing, eager, and unbelieving eyes in the middle of an inebriated and ignorant crowd. Kerri's subtle thrusts become less subtle. She holds the rail with both hands now and uses it like a lever, pushing herself back against and onto my cock. Her back arches even farther, and now she is almost horizontal, bound tits resting directly on the rail and threatening to burst out the top of her dress. She lifts her right leg and moves it farther to her right, putting her foot on the side footrest of the stool beside us to give me a better angle. Suddenly I don't care who sees me fucking this gorgeous, cock-hungry creature. I take a half step forward and thrust hard up and into her. I hear a loud and unmistakable moan, obvious to anyone who has ears as a woman filled with cock. The blonde barkeep hears, steals a glance down the bar at the sound, and looks concerned. Blonde but bright, the barkeep hops up on a stool and offers free shots to the first ten women to climb up on the bar and show their tits to the crowd, and I remember with gratitude that in Ontario it's legal. The level of chaos rises immediately as two cows climb on the bar and lift their shirts and bras. All attention focuses on the bar and the naked breasts on display there and we're free of all eyes save mine and the barkeep. I release Kerri's hips and reach around her, taking a full breast in each hand and lifting her back and away from the bar, my cock spearing her and keeping her raised off the floor as I lean her back onto me. I push one of the drunken frat brothers off his stool and lay her, stomach down, on the round red vinyl seat where he was sitting. Women continue to climb up the bar twenty feet away and show the crowd their eager but impoverished breasts while I mash Kerri's incredible mammaries into each other with my fists. I free one hand and grab the bunched material of her dress at her back, lifting it over her waist to I can watch my cock pounding through the hole in her panties and into her sweet, wet pussy. I move my other hand to the small of her back and push her stomach hard into the stool, arching her back to better reveal her ass. My mouth waters at the sight, and I reach again for the thin fabric of her panties, ripping the fabric and breaking the sewn seams as I continue to fuck her without regard for other eyes. I yank the torn pink panties loose and drop them on the floor of the bar. Kerri's feet find purchase on the steps of the stool and she braces herself against the unyielding thrusts up and into her cunt, spreading her legs apart, not caring whose eyes bore into her naked pussy as long as it's filled with my cock. My dick vanishes cleanly into her hairless cunt and the dark brown bud of her anus winks at me as her thighs flex to the same beat as my thrusting dick. Her voice is louder now, and I can hear her chanting a monosyllabic mantra into the air of the bar every time my cockhead wedges up and into the fecund nadir of her cunt. The eighth random cow climbs on the bar and lifts her shirt, flicking her bra up and over her tits before shaking them sluttishly at the crowd with a whorish grin. Nice Dress... Very Nice Dress I feel my testicles rise. I brace my feet directly behind her and fill Kerri with cock yet again, holding myself inside her as the orgasm rises in me and begins to fill my mind. She feels my cock throb inside her. She knows. I withdraw slightly before my cock begins to buck and spew. I shout a single vulgarity into the crowd, the sound lost in the chaos of the bar but not wasted on Kerri's waiting ears. Her cunt clenches hard as I slide my cock back up and inside her vagina, pressing it firmly up and into her body, and she begins to clench rhythmically and uncontrollably on me as her orgasm begins. I hold my cock in place as I grab her asscheeks with my fingers, pulling them apart so I can see the seam of flesh where my cock vanishes inside her. Her wrinkled brown anus begins to pucker in time with the clenching sensation on my cock as she cums, and cums, and cums. I hold my cock in place as spurt after spurt of semen bursts inside her vagina. Kerri feels it. She screams and grunts her bestial approval. Her screams are lost on the crowd as they cheer for the tenth and final cow on the bar twenty feet away. Kerri's entire body clenches and her cunt pounds my streaming cock with brutal, painful contractions as it explodes inside her. Her breath catches. She chokes as the intensity of her orgasm cuts of her air and fills her thighs and stomach with wet fire. Without pretense of restraint, I pull back and begin to pound my cock in and out of her tight, hot cunt, yelling a randomly chosen and incomprehensible vowel into the air as my pulsing, streaming, twitching dick finishes pumping my semen into her rapaciously hungry vagina. My semen and her sap spurt out of her vice-tight flesh, run down her left leg, and vanish into her left high-heel. The crowd cheers, but not for us. An eternity passes in three seconds. The tension drains from our bodies as her vagina eases its grip on my dick and my cock quickly deflates inside her. The last of the cows climbs down off the bar and the chaos and noise come down a notch. One dislocated frat brother snores on the floor where he landed. His twin to our left tears his stare from the tits descending the stage to the fascinating label of his hard lemonade. I pull my slick cock out of her sodden cunt, pull her sweat-soaked dress back down over her ass, pull her gently off the stool, and watch her lean with her back on the bar rail as I do up my fly. She meets my inquisitive stare and after a moment she shrugs slightly and smiles wickedly. Fucking right. Couldn't have been avoided. No one's fault. Daddy be damned. "I know a place we can get a good cup of coffee." "I know a place where we can fuck again." Two grins. The blonde barkeep strolls up behind Kerri and taps her on the shoulder. Kerri turns and the barkeep grins – a woman-to-woman smile. "Did you cum?" "Yes." "Keep him." We fuck again in the car, in the parking lot of the bar, grunting and moaning and sucking as she raises my cock with her mouth, then straddles me in the back seat, stabs herself with my cock, and flexes her hips on me until we cum. And again later, finally completely naked, on the grass in the darkness of the small garden behind her house apartment while local dogs bark and headlights from passing cars probe the street out front of the house as she bites the fabric of her discarded dress to stifle her shouts and I spurt a third voluminous load of semen into her glorious, clenching vagina. Where will it lead? Who knows. Maybe seven years from now, if we're still fucking and loving it, one of will write a story about it. Maybe we'll exaggerate a bit. Maybe we won't. We'll have to wait and see. And we did. Fini.