NOT Your Grandma's Book of Progressive Erotica: Vol 2

Loose

I definitely wasn't a ladies' man and the women I would hookup with, or bring home were usually less than a seven. I had some smoking hot women go home with me, but generally it was because they were super drunk. I didn't take any pride in adding another notch to my belt, but that's what women wanted at the bar that I frequented.

Going there every Friday night had become a routine for me since I was legally allowed to drink. Buddies of mine would bet on who would take a girl home and who would get the hottest one as well. I won and lost an equal amount when I was in my prime, but now that I was in my early thirties, I'd probably end up losing a bit of money to any challengers.

Another work week had come and gone at the warehouse and I was looking to just drink and watch the hockey game that Friday night. An overly drunk brunette woman had other plans in mind and bothered me for majority of the night as other guys bought her drinks and then turned every single one of them down. She told me about how she was a stripper at a local club, but due to her intoxication, I wasn't believing anything that came out of her mouth. She was attractive, so I wasn't surprised at how nearly every guy at the bar – young and old – tried to take her home that night.

During her drunken rant about how underpaid she was at the strip club, I excused myself to go take a piss in the dingy washroom. The stalls were painted black, covered in graffiti that kept on popping up and the lighting in the washroom was enough to see whether, or not you had pissed on your own hand.

Finishing up, I flushed the toilet using my shoes and began to zip up my pants. Suddenly the stall door swung open and hit me in the back. Apparently I had forgotten to lock mine and the drunk brunette stripper from the bar was squeezing her way into the stall with me.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked in a whisper.

"Ssshh," she replied with a slur. "Sex."

I know she was the one who willingly walked into the men's washroom and into the stall to find me, but it felt a little wrong to fuck in such a dirty place. The least I could have done was take her back to my apartment so we'd be having sex on clean bed sheets.

Before I could do anything to change her mind, she was sucking my cock that was left hanging out when she so abruptly entered my stall. I made sure to lock the door this time and then pushed her hair out of her face. She didn't have a hair elastic, so I held her hair back for her while she sucked my cock for quite some time.

Eventually she stopped, pulled down her jean jeggings and then forced my cock right into her ass. She moaned at first as I slowly began to fuck her, but then she pulled it out and stuffed it into her pussy.

"Sorry, wrong hole," she apologized.

I did my best to hold back my laugh and then grabbed onto her ass once more and fucked her pussy like she had originally wanted me to. Her moans were rather muffled as she held on to the toilet paper dispenser and had her other hand against the brick wall of the washroom. Her pussy was really tight for a girl who seemed rather promiscuous.

As we continued to fuck she queefed, followed by a faint giggle. I put my hand over her mouth and then began to fuck her even harder and faster in an attempt to get myself to cum. Before that happened though, she went silent and I couldn't feel vibrations through my hand over her mouth, nor hear deep breathing through her nostrils. I stopped and took my hand off her mouth, waiting for her to fall over, burp, anything.

About a minute of silence later, she then puked into the toilet. Her hair was hanging down, so I assumed that she got some of the puke in it.

She then asked, "Why'd you stop?"