Decent into the Bull Pen - Sex Stories

Decent into the Bull Pen

... around the crowded room, lit upon me standing at the bar. I'm staring at her and our eyes met. Something stirs in her loins and she flushes, looking away quickly. She tries not to, but in a few seconds she glances back at me. I'm still staring at her and as our eyes met for a second time I smile, faintly. Again something flutters in her lower belly and again she forces herself to look away. When she looks back, I had turned to face the bar. She feels disappointment. The man, if she had been able to see my face, was still smiling, more broadly now. I'm feeling a sensation in my loins. I knew I had found one. I often came to this bar, or others like it. Looking for women, for a pick-up. Most nights, I left alone, never having spoken to a woman. But the nights when I didn't leave alone made it worth while. I'm very choosy in the women I approach. I studied them carefully. When I did pick one I'm seldom rebuffed. I cannot describe exactly what I look for in a woman, what signs told me this one is open to me while that one isn't, but I'm almost never wrong. The few times when I had approached a woman and been rebuffed, it had been a gentle rebuff, and given only after that momentary pause that told me the rebuff is with regret. And none of the women, not one, has ever been angry. Most women would be furious. I did not have what ever can be described as a smooth line. My approach is direct, insultingly direct, obscenely direct. A mistake in my choice would most probably result, ...

... at the least, in a humiliating denouncement, and at worst in a beating or even arrest. I have no desire to experience either outcome. But my targets never complained. I made them from the very beginning feel cheap and dirty; let them know that I looked upon them with nothing but contempt. A mental rapist, I sometimes thought of myself. But not a physical rapist. I try not to force a woman, but I have on occasion. I prefer a woman cooperate, to embrace her own degradation, to freely and willingly submit to everything I inflicted upon them. So I'm very careful, and very patient. Tonight, my patience is thin. It has been a month since I'd found a target, and the next one I found is going to have to pay for my deprivation. I'm really going to drag this one through the gutter. When Marcy next glances toward the bar, I'm gone. She mentally laughs at herself. What did she expect? Why had I attracted her so? Since she and her friend had come in, her eyes had met several other men's. She is an attractive petite woman and men look at her. But none had caused that stirring in her loins. She blushes when she realizes she is a little damp down there. Oh well, in any case, she'd never see me again probably. Suddenly a glass is slammed down in front of her. She looks up, startled. It is me, I lean over her and said something. She shook her head. Surely she hadn't heard me right. Her face is puzzled and shocked as she looks at me. " Wha...what did you say?" she said. I grin. " I said, 'I'm ...