23 comments/ 79728 views/ 30 favorites The Bar Pick-Up By: satinlvr_mwf My husband, Ben, has always had a kinky side. He is into mild fetishes like light bondage and cosplay sex, and he has even wilder fantasies regarding multiple partners and wife-sharing. I have to be honest and admit that I share some of his milder fantasies, and willingly help fulfill others simply because he is my husband and I love him. I had drawn the line at multiple partners, or other guys, though. I was not prepared to cross that line. One night we had made a bet over the outcome of a baseball game, the loser to do what the winner wishes. As luck would have it, I lost. I was expecting something playful and fun, like the way the bet was inspired, but he had other plans... The bet started being paid off on Saturday, when I was told to select my best "fuck me" dress and pack for an overnight trip. I selected my black satin halter dress, the skirt short and flowing, forming a full circle when held outstretched. I also dressed in tan thigh high hose and my black 4 inch patent leather heels. Knowing my husband, I omitted panties, in fact I didn't even pack a pair for the trip! Ben was dressed in dark slacks and a golf shirt as he loaded his bag and mine into the car. To be a tease, I twirled around in front of Ben, letting the hem of my skirt rise up and out to a full circle, my bikini-trimmed crotch viewable by anyone who was watching. Ben immediately wanted to take me right there, but I made him wait, and pacified him with a passionate kiss, my tongue hungrily caressing his as his hands roved my body. I had to break off the kiss, or we would indeed have made love right there in the driveway! "I can't wait to fuck you!" Ben said. "You won't be able to walk for a week!" I grinned and even blushed a little. For all his kinky fantasies, Ben was not a vulgar man, and for him to use the F-word really meant his cock was burning to be inside me. We drove north, out of town, for a couple of hours, stopping only for lunch. Even in the restaurant, I continued to be a tease for Ben, and the rest of the men in the restaurant, as I "accidentally" dropped my purse and bent over to retrieve it, the hem of my skirt rising to reveal my moistness. I am sure my petals were glistening by then as all the teasing was working on me, too! Finally, Ben pulled into the parking lot of a motel as the light was fading When I opened the door, it was nearly yanked out of my hand by the fierce Santa Ana winds. "Be careful, Hon," Ben told me, "and mind your dress. I don't want to be denied a room before we even get started!" It took both hands to keep the voluminous folds of the satin skirt under control, although the billowing satin at my bosom teased the heck out of my nipples, making them rise fully and hard. Two pinpoints pointing directly at the young man behind the counter as we checked in. Ben was able to get us a ground-floor room, which fit his purpose, whatever it was. We decided to go to the bar and have a few drinks, mainly to kill time until it was late enough for what Ben wanted, which I figured to be he wanted an episode of outdoor sex. In the high winds, my skirt would not stay below my waist for long! The bar was very crowded when we arrived, and Ben got us a small standing table where we could set our drinks down while we waited for a full table to open. Standing there, I could feel the eyes of men roving my body, and I felt my wetness increasing as I knew I was being a tease, even though I was just standing there. If only the men of the bar knew that the only thing between my pussy and their cock was their clothing. I even felt a hand brush over my ass a few times, just a touch, a caress, but definitely not an accident. We had some drinks, made small talk and even kissed a little, taking our time until the crowd had thinned out a little, leaving the hard-core drinkers and bored businessmen. Finally, Ben decided it was time for me to make the pay off. I eyed the trees and bushes outside through the window, and the fierce winds were blowing as hard as ever. I sure hoped that 11:00 PM was late enough for people to be in their rooms or to be home. "Give me your rings!" Ben ordered. I started to pull them off, and hand them over. "Pick one" Ben said. "Pick one what?" Pick a guy and see if you can pick him up and get him to follow you outside... Let him see your pussy, tease him... You know the drill." Ben answered. "But what if he wants more of me than that? What if he ****s me? Will you be ok? I mean watching another guy screw me?" The drinks were definitely getting the better of me. "What if I like it?" "We've been standing here for awhile. There is an open seat at the bar. Grab it real quick, and I'll just watch what happens to you!" Ben pushed. I gave Ben a withering look and strode to the bar, letting my hips sway and my skirt swing, and took a seat, letting the short hem of my skirt flow down the barstool, my bare butt on the soft leather. I crossed my legs and asked the bartender for another glass of white wine, and showed my room key. I glanced back at Ben, only to find he was gone! It took only a few minutes before the first guy appeared at my side. He had obviously been doing some hard drinking, as his mannerisms and his large belly evidenced. He was very blunt about it, offering me $50 for an hour in his room. I told him he was not going to get lucky tonight, and he unsteadily made his way back to where he came from. "Hi, Gorgeous!" a new man appeared to my other side. "I'd buy you a drink, but I see you already have one!" he smiled. He looked very handsome, and was pretty tall, compared to me, with a distinguished brush of gray hair at his temples. I could see he was wearing a wedding ring. "I've been eyeing you all night. And I see your friend left you. Perhaps I should see you to your room?" he asked. I took a sip of wine and thought about him. Handsome, charming, but the morals of an alley cat. I didn't want to be a home wrecker. I smiled but made an excuse, letting him know I did not play with married me. He was very nice about it, and gave me his room number, in case I changed my mind. As the man left the bar, another gentleman came in. Goodness, he was handsome! Tall, well built, and young. He was wearing a golf shirt and a pair of shorts, and a pair of flip-flops. He motioned to the bartender, who quickly got him a drink. This made him a local. We made eye contact almost immediately. "Hi! I'm Jim!" as he sidled up next to me. He had one hand on his drink, and I felt the other one start to caress my ass. I started to object, then I thought about the reason I was here, and what Ben had wanted. "I'm Wendy." I replied Jim began to tell me only a very little about himself, that he came here a lot, and then he started asking me questions. He bought me another drink. Was I new here, where did I come from, that sort of thing. I made up some lame story about being new here, that I was supposed to meet someone who stood me up, and was having a drink before heading out. And that brought on another drink. All the while, I felt Jim's hand caress my butt through my skirt. The only problem was I was starting to enjoy it. I forgot what was so funny, but something Jim said made me laugh, and I almost fell off the barstool. Jim's quick hands caught me, and pulled me back up, with his hand taking a full feel of my breast as he did so. His grip was strong, but not crushing, and as he put me back on the stool, he mentioned casually I was too d***k to drive. "You're right, Jim... I've had too much. But maybe I can sl**p in the car. Can you help me get there?" I giggled. "Absolutely!" Jim answered. So he helped me to my feet, and put his arm around my waist, low, like lovers do, and we left for the exit. By now, it was after midnight, and the whole place was deserted. I did have the presence of mind to keep an eye out for Ben, but never saw him. We reached the exit, and as expected, the sudden gusts of wind played with my skirt. Only I didn't do anything to control it. I let my skirt fly, and hoped Ben was getting an eyeful. As we reached the parking lot, Jim began to e****t me away from the hotel. "Where are we going? My car is that way!" I lazily pointed in the approximate direction. "I know..." Jim replied. "But I want to show you something else, first!" The Santa Ana winds were fierce, and there was no controlling my skirt, or the soft folds of satin covering the rest of my body. My nipples soon stood up like little soldiers, full and at attention, and sometimes the gusts would blow my skirt straight up, exposing me to Jim. I felt Jim rove his hands more brazenly, until his bare hand was cupping my bare ass. By now we had left the hotel grounds and were walking down by a little park, which Jim e****ted me into. It was dark, and windy, with the sounds of trees rustling loudly. Once we were a few steps into the darkness, Jim turned to me and placed his lips over mine, in a passionate kiss. The wine and drink had really done a number on me, and I offered no resistance whatsoever. I kissed him back, only to feel his emboldened hand now begin to grope my crotch, massaging my pubic area. I could only let out a moan as I felt the first tingles of sexual pleasure tease me. Jim continued to e****t me deeper into the park, and the darkness. "You are a nasty girl!" Jim said. "You always go out without panties?" "Un-huh" I nodded. "I kept losing them." I lied. Jim took no time at all to remove his clothes, until he was stark naked in front of me, his erect cock bouncing in the breeze. I reached down to hold it, my French-manicured nails daintily holding it as I explored its length, and girth. He was longer than my husband, but about the same size around, and I began to stroke him. "You like this, Jim?" I purred. A long loan was my reply. I kept stroking him, increasing in my intensity. "So what do you want?" "You!" he replied as he put both hands on my shoulders and began to f***e me to the ground. I released his cock as I began to fight him off. "No! Don't!" I ordered. "Stop this! I just wanted to give you a hand job!" Jim just laughed. "A hand job ended in the parking lot, bitch!" He then used his full strength to push me down on my back, where I landed with a thud, my legs splayed apart, the wind still flipping my skirt up and away. Jim the knelt between my thighs and smiled as he lay down on me. "You're gonna' be the hottest fuck I've had in years!" He reached down and guided his cock to my petals and began to run up and down my slit, my petals already moist from earlier in the evening. I reached my hands to his shoulders, trying to fight him off, turning my head as I looked for Ben to rescue me, but he was nowhere to be found. I pushed harder against Jim's shoulders, but it was no use, he was much stronger than I am. I felt his cock f***e my petals apart and he began to slowly enter me. I let out a gasp I felt the presence of his invasion, and he kept the pressure up, entering me in one, long, full push, until his sac was against my ass. Then he started to withdraw, and I felt the first real bolts of pleasure enter me. It was hopeless, I was still buzzed from the drink, my skirt was on my waist, and this strange man was buried in my pussy. I was going to be fucked, and nothing could stop it, or him, now. Jim withdrew until he was almost completely out of me, and then re-f***ed his cock back part way, repeating the process several times. Then a full-f***e thrust, then another. I began to writhe under him, his cock forcing raw sexual tension into me. He varied his thrusts, and his pace, until I was on edge. He was very talented. He kept me on the edge of my own climax for what seemed like forever. Half-thrusts, followed by long, slow ones, then a quick full thrust or two. After several minutes, I didn't even resist any more. I became his lover. The thrusting continued like this for many minutes, while I moaned and gasped, my voice lost in the hard rustling of the trees from the winds. My hands lay over my head in total supplication to this r****t-turned-lover, Suddenly, Jim's pace quickened, and he drove his cock into me like a pile-driver, hard, deep thrusts until he growled with a final thrust and climaxed himself, filling my unprotected womb with his semen. I lay back as he climbed off of me, a long drip of his cum falling to the ground. I let the wind cool my sweat, as well as play with my skirt, as he got dressed quickly. "I assume you know your way back to the hotel." He muttered. "Besides, someone is coming..." With that, he dashed off, leaving me there, vulnerable, d***k, and exhausted. The Bar Pick-Up Ch. 02 Readers are encouraged to read the first chapter, to get a full idea of the beginning of the story, but for brevity, I'll summarize the story so far. A husband and wife went on a long weekend vacation, in the Southern California coastal region. Hot, dry winds, called Santa Ana's, are fierce at this time. The husband enjoys showing his wife off, before having her for his own pleasure. However, this time, things have gone farther than planned. She had several drinks with a stranger, after her husband had encouraged her to 'see if she could pick-up a guy', and instead of remaining on the hotel grounds, she was escorted off the premises, and into a nearby park. The hour is near midnight, the winds are warm and powerful, and her dress, a black satin halter with a circle skirt hemmed to her knee, was blowing and being blown about, her ability to control her dress, and her modesty hindered by the weather, and the drink. The stranger had his way with her, and then left her to her fate, as he heard someone new approaching. And so we continue on.... ---------------------------------------------------- I was shaking my head, trying to clear my senses as the buzz from the booze, and the sex-addled buzz in my ears was making me still heady and unsteady. The hot winds were rapidly cooling off the sweat and scent of sex from my body, and as I was afraid of not knowing who was approaching, I thought it best to make my way back to the hotel. I could feel his semen still in me, and seeping down my smeared thighs as I rolled over, and onto all fours. I was vaguely aware that I had not used any pregnancy protection, and as I felt it important, I began to clench my inner muscles, to try and expel as much of him as I could. I gave a series of soft, feminine grunt as I bore down, my legs wide as I held my torso up on my fingers, trying to use gravity to help me. I was rewarded with a plop sounding on the dry grass, and I looked between my knees, seeing a white, sticky glob of him trailing a thing strand of our combined fluids from my labia to the ground. The wind was still yanking at my skirt, and I had the fleeting thought that I was glad I wasn't wearing a maxi-or ankle-length skirt, as the hemline might be over my head, instead of blowing up onto my back. My rear was exposed, to whom I wouldn't know, but that didn't bother me nearly as much. I knew my panties were with my husband, and for some reason took comfort in that. It was really becoming difficult to stay steady, and clear my head. Something was definitely wrong with me, but I didn't know what it was. The heavy winds, and the rustling trees made it extremely difficult to hear, and since I had been warned of someone nearby, and being a stranger to the area, it was time to move. I reached up to the nearby picnic bench, and with some dedication, managed to raise-up to be bent over on my unsteady heels. My skirt was flying about, up, down, out, and around, making me an inviting target. The ground was a tad rough, making walking all the harder, and as I raised up, just barely managing to stand upright, I felt a hand cover my mouth! The wind was howling in a gust, and the sounds of trees, leaves, and the rush of air simply allowed my stalker to grab me without a hint of his presence. I screamed, weakly, into the hand, and then felt a hot breath on my neck. Rough whiskers scratched at my skin, and a strong body-odor assailed my nose. "Looks like ta'day's my lucky day!" the voice almost cackled. My hands reached up to the hand and wrist veering my lips, and I tried to pull it off, my nostrils flaring as I was now heaving my chest to breathe, but in my weakened state, I couldn't. I didn't have the strength to overcome his grip. I tried to kick at him, but, again, my efforts were fuzzy, weak, and uncoordinated. Something was wrong with me, and I didn't know what it was! My captor began to pull backwards, and for a moment I feared I was going to be thrown back to the ground. Looking back, I wish he had. Instead, he began to drag me away, across the grass, deeper into the park. His other arm wrapped around my waist, and he hefted and dragged me in stages, until I lost sight of the street, into the darkness. His voice kept cackling, laughing, almost. "Finally, pussy... I's gonna get laid!" he exclaimed with glee. "no moe' ass.. no moe' bitchin'" was becoming his mantra. I had no idea what he meant, but then, I was dazed, and barely functioning. I struggled, my hands to his arms, alternating to get free, and once, I did get my lips free, and I took a large gulp of air, preparing to scream, only to have his hand slap back over my mouth. As he spoke, as he chanted, my hopes were fading, as the surrounding lights did, until it was utter darkness. Branches were being pushed aside, snapping back and giving me small scratches here and there, while the leaves and twigs snapped under foot. I was being dragged somewhere hidden, and I gave a last gasp effort to get free. I tried to kick at his legs, finally connecting once. I think I hit his shin, and he howled loudly. He dropped me as he fell to the ground, and I landed on my back. Blinking hard, I tried to get up, rolling over to my side to reach my hands and knees. The hem of my skirt was at my waist as I rolled, exposing me, but I didn't care. I was scared now, really scared. I couldn't see anything in the darkness, and heard only howling winds, the constant rush of trees, brush and branches, and the creep who grabbed me. He was cussing a blue streak, and as I was now on my hands and knees, I felt his vengeance. He lifted my face by my hair, and slapped me, viciously, across my face and head, knocking me back on my side, and making me see stars. I moaned softly as I blinked hard, only to find my hair being grabbed up again, a full hand-hold and he began to yank. The pull on my hair made me lurch and I jumped forward, almost landing flat on my face at his feet, until he rose, and pulled my up by my hair. His cackling voice suddenly grew menacing. "Bitch, you doan' wanna cross me, cunt...we far enough away now tha' no one hears you... Or will find you." The voice and the threats made me feel a chill down my body, even though I was dazed. Through the haze it was clear to me... 'Don't make this guy angry'. He then slapped his hand back over my mouth and yanked me by the hair, using his new handhold to guide me, until we entered a clearing. I was surprised by what I saw. Instead of a clump of dried branches and trees, there was a home, of sorts. A tattered mattress, actually, now that I had time to look, two of them on opposite sides of the clearing. A small table made from scraps of wood. Small shelves, again made of scraps of lumber held some canned food, and a central pit was lined with heavy stones. A fire pit. Overhead was a tattered canvas tarp, dark, and it was tied to some trees, spreading it open. All in all, it looked like a camp site. Just one that was used for a long time. I was again thrust to the ground, this time onto a mattress, albeit cross-wise. Landing sideways, my modesty a long-forgotten goal, as my dress was all about me, I watched as he undid his pants. The task was very simple for him, really. He had a rope for a belt, holding up what were obviously way-oversized pants, and with the slip-knot yanked, his pants fell to his ankles. Stepping out of them was similarly easy, and there he was, nearly naked, his very dark skin contrasted by gray hair, even a few strands in his pubic region. He was thin, almost gaunt, perhaps, and again, his odor could not be disguised. He had not bathed in some time. His thin, almost gnarled hand went to his cock, and he began to stroke it as he advanced on me. "What'dya think o'this, cunt? Goan' get some fine white pussy...' he leered at me, his voice almost a cackle. "This ol' black snake been in th' sack too long." He added. "Well, not countin' ol' Lawrence..." My eyes bugged widely at the inference. This guy, this bum, he was having homosexual sex, and now he was aiming to stick his dick in me! I started to scramble, to get my feet under me, but as I got back to my knees again, he was on me, his body crashing into mine, the impact slamming me onto the mattress. "Noooo!" I cried out. "Let me GOOOOO!!!!" I yelled, giving all I had to squirm out of his grasp. I grunted as I struggled, trying to get out from under him, yet all I did was succeed in winding up under him, on my back, and his legs between mine. My body was going to be taken. Sensing his superior position, and his advantage, he began to dry hump me, his dark snake rubbing along my folds, the top of his cock rubbing my fleshy petals, and despite my fear and fight, sending shots of pleasure through to my brain. I tried to pummel him, to use my balled up fists to hit him, but he took one blow to his chest, and used it to grab my wrist, and yank my hand over my head. I was shocked at how strong he was, for being so thin! I grunted and grimaced as I struggled, my feet kicking at mid-air, all the while his cock was rubbing at my petals, and my body was reacting. My nipples were somehow even more sensitive, and more and more, the jostling of them against the satin material holding them made me feel more pleasure, just as his cock was teasing me. His pubic bone was colliding against my clit now, and despite my protests, my voice was declaring the rise of pleasure. A soft grunt now escaped parted lips, as my folds were now parted, and nothing was stopping him. He just continued to cackle, like he was having the most fun of his life, and how he was having white pussy for the first time in ages. "Goanna' breed me a white bitch! Fine white slut..." was becoming his mantra. As he would talk, his mouth gaped open,and the guy would drool, spittle splashing on my face, and exposed chest, making me shudder, and yet his spit was mixing with my sweat, cooling my body. Then he switched his motions, and he paused, holding his spear up, one hand dropping to his cock. He used his fingers to slid the cock head against my pussy, until he found my entrance. My hands were still on his shoulders, and even as I let out a long and loud wail of pleasure, it was mixed with despair. My fear was being realized, he was fucking me, and I not only couldn't stop him, I couldn't help but feel the pleasure of his cock. My body was already well-lubricated from my previous encounter, and he slid into me easily, yet while he wasn't overly gifted, I could feel him as his cock plundered my body. My back arched, and my hands still pushed at his shoulders, my legs flailing, all hope now lost. He had me for his own. He wasted no time in beginning to fuck me, pulling out and then pushing in, long, full strokes that were very, very quick. Each time his pelvis smacked my clit, I let out a loud 'uhn!", and with his frequency, there was a lot of my voice, along with his. His drooling seemed to get worse, and at one point, my mouth gaping open for air, and expression of pleasure, some of his spit rained into my mouth. I coughed, and tried to spit it out, but it made no difference. More of our bodily fluids were being shared. It is said sex can be passionate, and pleasurable, but it isn't often talked about how messy it can be. And this guy was making me a mess. His body's sweat, laced with his own body odor, smeared with mine, and I began to take on his smell, a fact that was making me want to retch, and yet I could not, for his cock was rapid-firing into me, making me shiver and shake. His final gesture was to cum in me, fast, and with absolutely no warning. Some grunts, and then a loud bellow, almost a high-pitched cry, and he pushed his cock fully into me, holding it inside me, and his semen spurted into my cavity. I don't know how much, or how virile he was, but he was doing his utmost to mix his genetics with mine, his sperm competing with that of my previous lover. I simply gave up now, I was beaten. My hands fell to the mattress at my waist, and my heels to the dirt and leaves, and I lay there, letting him do what he wanted. His hips made small, slow thrusts, as he gave me more of him, pushing every drop he had into my body, man's natural instinct to fertilize a woman. He then surprised me by dropping his face to mine, and as I was gasping for air, his tongue attacked mine, his lips mashed to mine, as he kissed me. I squealed, somehow rationalizing that without kissing him, it was rape, but with the kiss, I was cheating. Kissing meant intimacy, it meant desire, and I wanted neither of them. Yet I couldn't fight him off, as I was exhausted. I was simply too tired to care. My head was still bussy, and my limbs weak, and it didn't matter to me how many times he would fuck me, or who else wanted to. I would not stop them. I couldn't. The kiss seemed to last an eternity, but was broken by a voice off to one side... "Hey, asshole..." a darker, more sinister-sounding voice chimed in. "Get off her... I wanna' turn." I turned to see, but couldn't see much in the darkness, but I could tell the man's shape, his naked form, and since he was nearly invisible, I deduced he had to be black, and the only inescapable conclusion.... It was Lawrence... The Bar Pick-Up Ch. 03: Final Readers are encouraged to read the previous chapters, so that the whole story will make more sense. This chapter joins events already in place... *** I turned off Comments and Voting. Too many mean-spirited comments*** ***** The grumpy voice repeated itself. "Hey, Asshole, get off of her... it's my turn!" With that growl, my rapist rolled off of me, and left me there, a sweaty mess. Legs wide, pussy gaping, and semen leaking from me, I had some small hope he wouldn't find me attractive, and leave me alone. Even release me. But there was no such luck. Lawrence was hard to see in the darkness, for his skin was black as coal. My eyes were now dark-adjusted, and even so, he was difficult to spot. That was, until he knelt between my legs, and then I got a good look at him. Dark, obviously, but in a lot better health that the other man, whose name I never did know, he was waving his cock around, like a menacing weapon. It was thick, and about eight-inches long. What my husband would call a 'pussy-tamer'. I would find out my husband was right. There was no ceremony, no righteous bravado or declarations, or threats. Lawrence simply got down to business. But when he lay on me, I was surprised to find that he was petite, for a man. My sized. When I am with my husband, I can lick his nipples with ease, teasing him. Lawrence and I were pretty much nose-to-nose. When Lawrence entered me, he used his hand to guide his shaft, the head full and thick, past my folds, and into my gate. My back arched, and like before, I let out a loud grunt. My mouth gaped, and my arms lay over my head in supplication. I was giving myself to Lawrence, as I was just too tired to fight him. His initial thrust was slow. Long. Like forever. But it also made my body tingle. The fullness of his cock in me made me feel differently, a definite pleasure, one I would not be able to resist. For lack of a better term, Lawrence made me feel like a woman, and not some piece of meat to be fucked. My mouth hung open as he pushed further and further, until he was reaching that place my husband just couldn't, and only one other had in my life. It was a feeling of fullness that was somehow special. It was hard to explain, and perhaps still is, but a woman who has been completely filled, in a painless manner, will understand. Despite protestations otherwise, yes, sometimes size matters, and Lawrence, while not oh-my-God huge, was certainly not lacking. Bottomed against my clit, he rested there, and my body began to revel in him being inside me. My voice mewed now, as every small adjustment he made tickled my clit, and we locked eyes. Seeing him in those depths of primitive lust, my open soul now open, it wasn't a decision, so much as a reaction. Lawrence and I were not going to have sex. We were going to make love. My hands lowered to begin to caress him, his dark skin soft in my caress, as my hands started behind his head and down the back of his neck. I was able to lift my knees, and widen them, allowing Lawrence the fullest access to my depths, and my lips closed when I lifted my head, to plant a soft kiss to Lawrence's mouth. What was intended to be a soft peck of lips became a long tongue-lashing and passionate kiss, our bodies fully intertwined now, as his lips opened mine, and his tongue rushed forth, to explore my mouth. I could feel his tongue on mine, and inside my lips, rubbing my teeth, and I did nothing to stop him, except try and kiss him back. My hands slid down to his shoulders, gently groping and stroking them, my long nails a gentle tickle of his skin. The contact between our bodies was gentle, it was kind, and it was very loving. My senses were reveling in him, letting go my feelings of fear, and even hate. I never knew the name of the other black man, the one who raped me, but I hated him for it, yet I loved being with Lawrence. Under different circumstances, I could see my husband wanting to invite Lawrence to our room, and I would willingly take him to bed with me. To be his fucktoy, and to enjoy his ravishment of me. My lover grunted as he flexed his abdomen, and I felt his knees curl under my butt, cradling my lower torso. My shins were parallel to the ground, and my knees were wide. I couldn't escape if I wanted to. Lawrence made sure I didn't want to by beginning to cycle his hips, and make his cock thrust in and out of me. I couldn't help but mew each time he withdrew, followed by a louder moan of pleasure as he re-entered my body. My fingers were gripping whatever they were touching as he did so, until my hands finally rested on his biceps. He had some muscles, more so than the Asshole, as I came to think of him, but he wasn't bulky. He just had that wirey build of thin muscle, but there was no mistake. He had strength. He also had those thrusts, and in short order, as he thrust in me, I began to rock my hips back. Cradled as I was, there was little room to maneuver, but I writhed in his grasp, and my mouth opened to eagerly kiss him more. Our lips were sloppy, wet, and tongues slathered over each other, heedless of who was watching. I would have done the same in front of my husband, but instead I had to endure the catcalls of the Asshole. "Yeah, yeah, Lawrence.. fuck that slut! See? She's a whore! She'll fuck anybody, even me!" his voice cackled on and on. I heard him start to grunt and then he growled abruptly, and I turned my head, to see the outline of that thin shaft spewing his jism. He had jerked off watching Lawrence make love to me. Lawrence was wordless throughout all this, as was I, save for my panting and ever louder mews, until I was moaning steadily. My body was now on autopilot, as we kissed again, lewdly placing an exclamation point on our copulation. My pussy was pulsing, my body shaking in want as Lawrence thrust inside me, his pace growing faster, and harder. I began to see colors, stars, and I felt the familiar tingle in my core. I was going to explode. My lover helped me along, grinding his pelvis against my clit with every third of fourth stroke, until I couldn't take it anymore, and I screamed. Loud, piercing, and unreserved, my vaginal walls trying to massage that magnificent cock inside me, to milk him for his seed. I already had two men's material in me, and a third would make little difference, other than a question of fatherhood, if that happened. AS I came, it pushed, or pulled, Lawrence over the edge, and he came inside me, frenzied thrusts with each of his spurts, black baby-batter being shoved deeper into me, to the place my cervix would dip into, to suckle up sperm into my womb. My body would make the decision. Who, if, how many. I was out of the loop, now, only able to kiss Lawrence, aggressively, this time, hot and needy after his loving me. Unlike before, this time I caressed Lawrence's face as he still stayed inside me, small thrusts still pushing the remainder of his essence inside me. Like a plug, nothing came out, nothing leaked, as his cock sealed my vaginal tight. We kissed, long and lovingly, soft lips against each other as my tongue reached out for his. My nails gently caressed his ebony skin, and when the kiss broke, we could only look into each other's eyes. We stayed like that for many minutes, his softening shaft still inside me, as we kissed and caressed. I still have no idea why my mind shifted, why I went from being raped by one man, to making love to another complete stranger. But where Asshole was rough, mean, and hurtful, Lawrence was kind, gentle, loving and passionate. He had a gift between his legs, too, and I wondered how many women he had been with. Because of his frame, he was likely not that popular with women, that would be, until they got to know his girth. He was now popular with me, however, and if my husband decided he wanted to share me again, Lawrence would be at the top of my list. Asshole was making rude noises again, and apparently he had regenerated. He wanted another time with me, and I looked to Lawrence, and with soft eyes, I spoke gently. "Please... take me home... My husband..." and my voice trailed off. Lawrence and I looked into each other's eyes again, and he nodded. He rose up, and with some reluctance, his cock left my void. He stood, and his dark hands reached to help me up. Rising to my feet, it took a moment to find balance on my heels, all the while Asshole was griping and complaining loudly. Getting dressed himself, he snapped. "Shut up, foo'!" Lawrence barked. "Knock that shit off! I'm takin' her wid' me. Bitch about it, an' I ain't gonna' bring you no mo' food an' shit!" Lawrence shook his head. "An' no mo crack o' no other stuff!" The words between the two were surprising, and I looked questioningly to Lawrence. He simply looked at me. "Where's yer panties?" "I have no idea..." I replied sheepishly. And it was true. They were gone. He shrugged and held out my hand. "Let's go. You obviously got someone waitin' fer you, and I doan' wan' no cops tearin' this place apart lookin' fer ye'. Been hard 'nough finding a place to hide my brother..." As Asshole complained again, Lawrence simply led me away. My lips flapped in surprise. Brothers? They didn't seem anything alike! I wanted to ask about this, but Lawrence was leading me away, quickly. He had to know the ins and outs of the area, but I kept tripping and almost feel a few times, from branches and snags, but eventually we emerged into a clearing, the side of the park. It wasn't the same area as before, but still, I could see the street. Stopping, I turned to Lawrence, and in my heels, standing, I was taller than he by about four inches. I smiled to him, for my lover had also become my rescuer. "Lawrence... thank you..." And I laid my lips to his, to kiss him again, a passionate French-kiss. By this time I didn't care who saw what. My inhibitions were trashed, and my body, having been used by so many, was a mess. My dress was a mess, and semen was trailed down my thigh, and smeared. My landing strip was matted and my body was covered in a mix of sweat, spit, and body-odor. Some small debris was stuck in my hair, along with dirt and leaves. The kiss was lingering, and loving, and I broke the kiss with almost sad eyes. "How can I find you again?" "Show up in th' park. You'll git found.", he replied. "But this side, not that side." And he punctuated his words with a jerk of his head. "Now git... I done gotta' deal with my brother..." and he simply turned and left. To me, he was a lover, but to him, I was just a piece of ass. I made my way back to the hotel, letting the winds just do what they wanted to my skirt. I just walked, and thought about what happened. Three men, all of them unprotected, my own body unprotected. Inseminated fully. I knew I could get pregnant, the time wasn't smack in the middle of my cycle, but it wasn't in my safe-period, either. My head was much cleared now. I had to think on that. Had I been drugged? That seemed the most likely scenario. By whom? The bartender? My husband? The first guy I couldn't remember his name, or what he looked like? I saw my husband pacing just outside the lobby, and I waved to get his attention. He literally ran to me. Was I ok? What happened? Who was he? The questions came a mile-a-minute, and I simply couldn't answer them like he wanted. I looked at him and simply said, "not here... let's get inside." In the hotel room, I got undressed, and took a shower. My husband joined me, not to have an erotic shower, but to take care of me. I began to answer his questions, to the best of my recollection. I told him about the first guy, what I could remember, and then the Asshole, and then Lawrence, and about making love to him. That I could remember in great detail. My husband got an erection as I told him the details, and he tried to turn me, to stick his cock in me. I had to push him away, and tell him no. He was hurt by this, until I reminded him that there was a potential risk I was pregnant, and I didn't want to have to deal with the possibility of the child being his. He was deeply worried. He explained that he had stepped around the corner, expecting me to come by with whomever I was going to be teasing, and he was going to intervene. But I went the wrong way, and he never saw me. He had been frantic for the last few hours, and was ready to call the police when I returned. I was surprised to find out how much time had elapsed, as I had no clue. What wasn't a surprise was two weeks later and I missed my period. Two boxes of home pregnancy tests later, it was confirmed. I was pregnant. The surprise would be trying to find out who the father was, and once I delivered, I knew I was going to go back, to that park, to that clearing, and show Lawrence, as I hoped he was the father.