I have deliciously naughty plans in mind for my slutty Exgf tonight. She arrives looking like an innocent little girl, wearing a skirt for once. I wonder if she’s wearing knickers; I told her not to. Her green eyes are sparkling at me and she looks quite pretty, but still not the kind of woman I’ve been enjoying fucking in the past year. This is revenge we’re talking about, so looks is irrelevant; ice-cold, slow, strangling revenge.
She’s surprised by my red sports car and I know it does things for her, perhaps even makes her juicy. Once at the Chinese restaurant on the outskirts of my town we get a table and indulge in small talk. I’m easily Passive Disinterested because I know that there is no romantic possibility between us. As with other women who like this demeanour she leans forward, inadvertently but perhaps deliberately exposing her ample cleavage. She catches me glancing, smiles, looks around the room and then shakes her breasts with a quick wiggle of her shoulders. Good, this slut is in a frisky frame of mind.
I pay for the meal just like I used to, but back then it was me being me, but tonight the vengeful me was paying. I was paying for my whore’s meal, making her in my mind a bought and paid-for receptacle for my lust. In the past I had fed her in so many ways, never suspecting that I was also feeding her twisted ego, the ego that got off on manipulating me, leading and misleading me. The sense of satisfaction I felt from being in the driving seat made the meal taste even sweeter. When she brought the chopsticks up to her mouth I could just imagine feeding her my phallus. Patience, all in good time.
It is a perfect Summer’s evening and there’s a party atmosphere in the establishment. The bustling beer garden outside beckons and I order us a bottle of chenin blanc. We find seats in an empty gazebo on an embankment that overlooks all the people about twenty yards from us. We side by side on a two-seater that swings. It’s dark and about fifty people are collected in small groups below us, they’re all engrossed in their conversations, glasses of wine and beer in hand. A floodlight is providing light on the group, their shadows fall towards us, we’re partially illuminated.
About halfway through the bottle of wine, my Exgf tells me about her latest trip to Thailand, somewhere we’ve been together and I can see her remembering this as she tells me of places we discovered in happier times. She went with her mother this trip but her eyes tell me she wishes it was with me; I know her that well. She’s in an emotionally vulnerable state, her practised defences are down, she’ll be receptive to anything I do from now on. The alcohol is helping.
I put a hand on her thigh and she puts a hand over mine. I lean over halfway towards her and she quickly comes forward to make our lips meet. Within seconds her tongue is in my mouth and she lets off a muffled sigh. Time to escalate.
Still kissing I slide my hand down her thigh and find the hem of her skirt. I’m going to do something naughty and she’ll slap me down, but I know it’ll turn her on. I slide my hand under her skirt and slowly make my way to her crotch. I can feel that she’s wearing underwear.
“I told you to not wear knickers. Naughty girl. You deserve to be punished,” I utter in a slow, low tone. She always liked my deep voice and I’ve never spoken to her like this before, so the uncharacteristic words are bound to have an effect, perhaps even an arousing one.
“Open your legs more,” I instruct and she complies. I push her panties aside and slide a finger into her pussy.
Anybody looking in our direction would see her with her legs apart, her skirt pulled up onto her thighs and my hand between her legs, fingering her. Should I be crazy and unbutton the front of her dress, tug on her bra-cups, letting her breasts fall out for the world to see? Surely somebody must be watching us?
“Come, let’s go,” I say, pulling my finger out of her wet pussy. I lead her to my car; we don’t speak. I’ve parked in the middle of the car park, it’s next to the beer garden. People are coming and going from their cars, the area is well lit.
Like an old-fashioned gentleman I open her door for her and close it once she’s sitting comfortably. What I’m going to do next is anything but old-fashioned. I get in on my side of the car and she’s turned slightly towards me and hasn’t put her seatbelt on. She’s looking at me, her eyes are big; she’s still turned on.
Without a word I lean over, quickly push her skirt up and put a hand between her legs, feeling the meatiness of her thighs. She lets out a heavy breath and opens her legs. My fingers push her knickers aside and my index finger slides up into her pussy. We keep eye contact and her mouth opens in surprise, but I know she’s enjoying this.
My Exgf is gushing wet; she did always like to be fingered. I slide my middle finger in too and she spreads her legs even more. I start playing with her g-spot, to which she lets out a “Oh my gawd!” She puts her hands down on her skirt, holding it up and she starts breathing faster. If I keep going like this she’s going to cum, then that’ll be it for the night. Very rarely was she multi-orgasmic during our time together, despite my best efforts. Once she came, that was it, game over. I’m not going to let her cum any time soon, I’m going to make her work for it.
I pull my fingers out and say to her, “Come over here and suck my cock,” all in a manner that I’ve never used with anyone before. Is this how a John talks to his whore for the evening? I know that my Exgf ‘s never had sex in a car.
She leans over to my crotch while I quickly unzip my trousers and pull my now rock-hard cock out for her to suck on. In less than a second she latches onto the top half of my cock with her mouth and she frenetically moves her head up and down on it. She would never have done this while we were together, so it feels good to be able to get her to do it now and with such enthusiasm. After a couple of seconds she starts making approving sounds that remind me of a little girl eating ice-cream on a scorching Summer’s day.
We didn’t get to oral sex on Sunday; it was all too fast and intense. This looks and feels good. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her suck my cock with such gusto before. I decide to test her honesty, to see if her story is consistent.
“When last did you suck a cock?” I ask.
She stops for a second to answer with, “I haven’t. This one was my last one.”
“Okay, stop talking, keep sucking,” I say with my new-fond brutishness. She lets off a little snigger and does as she’s told. Good slut.
I become concerned that people might be watching us and also I sense I’m getting closer to cumming myself. No, the evening has just started; I have other ideas that need seeing to.
“Right , that’s enough for now,” I say, guiding her shoulder up with a hand and putting my cock away with my other hand. She straightens her dress and checks her look in the mirror.
“Did you enjoy doing that?” I ask.
“Do you want to do that some more? Do you want me to finger you some more?”
Without another word I start my sports car and it roars into life. I remember reading in her sex diaries that she once let a guy fuck her on their second date because she got to drive in his sports car and she liked it. She must be enjoying this, it must be so exciting for her, especially after a year-long abstinence from sex. I drive us back to my apartment complex and park in the public car park that is also well-lit. I switch the car off, press the buttons that releases our seat belts, unzip my trousers and pull my semi-erect cock out.
“Come over here and suck my cock some more,” I say. I would never have dared say or do anything like this in the past with her. How will she react?
Without any hesitation she leans over and eagerly sucks away on my cock. I’m stunned, but I like this. I don’t know whether it’s this brazenness that I like, or the public naughtiness, or the instant compliance on her part, perhaps all of it, but this feels good. She was always a good cock-sucker, but this is taking us where we’ve never been before.
She starts making those involuntary noises again, like a wild boar sniffing for truffles. She’s enjoying this, being my whore. Of course she doesn’t know that I’m thinking of her in those terms. I didn’t know that she had this degree of exhibitionism in her, just one of the things that she kept so well hidden from me.
“Okay, enough of that now. Sit back in your seat,” I say, sensing that I’m getting close to cumming. She complies and looks at me, waiting for my next instruction.
“Pull your skirt up,” I tell her.
She smiles and pulls her skirt up onto her thighs.
“No, pull it all the way up,” I command.
She pulls it up as far as she can.
“Now spread your legs open and pull your panties to one side,” I instruct.
She does so and looks at me with big eyes. Anybody in the complex looking out of their window now could see us. My Exgf doesn’t seem to care and neither do I. Taking a few seconds to commit this sight to my memory bank, I slowly lean closer to her, keeping eye-contact and put a hand on her thigh. She lets out a nervous breath filled with anticipation. I slide my hand up her silky smooth thigh and slide two fingers into her pussy.
“Ugh” she says, arching her back a bit and closing her eyes.
“Is this what you want?” I ask as I find her g-spot.
“Uh-huh,” she gasps.
To be continued…