Decent into the Bull Pen - Sex Stories

Decent into the Bull Pen

... going to fuck your brains out.'" She stares at me. The room seems to freeze around her, the crowd of people receding into the background. My face fills her vision, my grin mocking her confusion. I pull a chair from another table and squeeze in beside her. The man that had been sitting next to her turned, frowning, and started to protest, but I looked at him and the protest died unsaid. I reach for the glass I had sat on the table before her and my arm brushes her breast. It feels like she has been touched with a branding iron. I grin at her, and when I lift the glass to my mouth, I push my elbow against her. She can't seem to move. She sat there, my elbow digging into her breast while a maddening itch grows behind her womb. I set the glass down again, and replace my elbow with my hand, moving it over her breast. Her face feels flushed and she can't seem to get enough air. She wants to tell me to stop it, wants to scream at me. Any sound, any protest, she knows, would bring several men leaping to her defense. That is all she had to do. Even show me her distaste for my insulting behavior would be enough. I would go away. She knew I would. I would take my...exciting...hand away from her breast and leave her alone. She swallows, lifting her own glass to her mouth, taking a gulp. I lean closer to her, my breath hot in her ear. " Yes, Baby," I said. " That's what a woman like you comes in a place like this for...to find some guy willing to fuck the shit out of her. And don't you ...

... worry...I've got exactly what you need." I drain my glass and stood up. " Come on," I said. She woke up from a deep, mindless sleep hot and confused by the darkness around her. A voice nearby, outside somewhere, startled her, sounding like a echo in the small room she is in. Was it a room? It is warm and dry and the air smells stale. Barely any light came in, she gingerly feels around, not yet frightened but very nervous. This isn't the first time she'd woken up in a strange place, she is sure she will remember where she is in a minute. The dark is kind of nice though it is unsettling. She feels a mattress under her, some blankets, she is naked except for a short, loose skirt. She knelt carefully, and begin feeling around the room for something, anything to help explain her surroundings. The door swings open and as the daylight filtered through the curtain over the doorway blinding her dark-adjusted eyes. She looks around for clues as to where she is, how she'd gotten there. Was this one of those secret fantasies of hers, she wonders, had she accidently confessed one to the wrong person in a drunken moment of bad judgement? Hands from outside pushed aside the curtain, suddenly she feels a tug on one ankle and her left foot is pulled from underneath her and up towards the ceiling, splaying her backwards onto the bed. Both her hands are pulled up over her head towards the back of the wrought iron head board. Before she can complete a sentence, my hand covered her mouth, pushing ...