Fucked By An Armed Robber

The rain was atrocious tonight and not a punter was to be seen. Should I lock-up for the night or shall I continue remaining open? I'd let all my staff disappear for the night, they had no business staying here when they could get home quite easily right now before the busses stopped running and the country roads became drowned with sewage water.

The Cotswolds as beautiful as it was, was a nightmare when the weather began misbehaving. The plush greenery now drowned the bountiful growth Mother Nature had bestowed on the country of Gloucestershire. My pub was wedged between two gorges. It was an absolute pain to get to, but once you were seated, looking up at the large peeks was just breath-taking. However on nights like this, not a fucking soul was to seen.

What else could I do? Knowing I'd made a fat zero, I started the clean-up. Ensuring I could polish the entire bar tonight. I lived upstairs of my little pub, so there was no issue how late I'd stay. I wanted my staff to come in tomorrow or whenever the storm had calmed down, to a clean bar and less work for them stress over.

As I began polishing the vodka section of the bar, the door jiggled open. Jumping off the step ladder and almost falling to my feet, I used the front bar to cushion my fall. He was soaked. A large man walked through the door. Bald with just a plaid shit on. He resembled a certain someone from my Pornhub history. Was a fantasy coming to life?

"Hey lovey, I was going to close. You might need to rush out of here before your car can't move. It becomes a ditch as soon as a bit of rain touches the mud." I spoke nonchalantly despite how attractive I found this mysterious visitor.

"Car broke down in Bisley, I walked toward the light. I didn't expect your doors to be open." His voice was gruff, weakened by the twenty mile walk to the pub.

"Well then, let's get you a drink and some food." I was faffing around now, not sure what to do with myself.

"Sambuca?" What an odd choice of drink. Obligingly, I grabbed two short glasses and followed him around, locking the door and leading him to the large tudor table where a Franklite hung above. It was a Medieval dream.

"I have some dinner in the kitchen, only bits of a roast left if you're fancying?" I coaxed.

"Sure," he said simply.

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Placing the heaped plate of roast chicken and pork in-front of him. I sat opposite, trying to gauge what and why he had decided to walk such distance when he could have gone to Cirencester? Something was not right.

"So, Cirencester was only a short distance from where you were stranded?" I asked tentatively.

"Yes, I have a... er a warrant out for my arrest, so I need to be as discreet as possible," his voice barely above a whisper.

My heart skipped a beat. "Did you kill someone?" I asked half-jokingly. Unsure on how to continue this conversation. I should give him some credit, he was being honest.

"Armed robbery." He didn't elaborate. So I kept quiet also.

"Right. Well we made no money today so cash register is fucking empty. Embarrassing really." I chuckled, trying to make light of the situation I had got myself into.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to rob. Just to eat and be on my way. Drew." He reached his large, tattooed hand out to me.

"Amaya," I smiled back.

"Don't get me wrong, but don't see many Indian women as Landlady's of a pub." I couldn't place his accent. Geordie perhaps?

I smirked, "you look like you belong in my private browser." It was his turn to smirk.

"I've been told that before," he retorted.

"Well I've been told that before." We both chuckled under the weirdness of the situation.

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Time elapsed under the glowering rain. We were subservient, not leaving the Cotswold stone building. Slowly but surely, we sat closer. His hand brushing my cheek and my legs hung over his large, muscular thighs. I was enamoured by my criminal. He had told me that he was part of a gang and to leave the life behind, he had to commit one last 'initiation' to leave and never look back.

"So yeah, I couldn't leave a trace. Once this storm calms down, I'll be on my way to Guernsey to start anew." Drew had finished the story and I couldn't help but feel a deep attraction to him. If this was his last night, then fuck it.

"Take your cock out." I demanded.

"What?" he was shocked.

"You've got a long journey ahead of you. Let me make it a little easier." I rasped into his ear, kissing the lobe just slightly.

"You want to fuck a criminal?" he raised his brow.

"No, I want to fuck you." I emphasised.

We stared at each other for while until he placed his lips atop mine. His soft, plush lips pushing now opening to make space for his tongue to invade mine. He lifted me so I was sat straddling his large frame. Our lips continuing this dance. Drew's hands roamed around my waist, then breasts and I involuntarily let out a moan.

"You wanna take this upstairs, Champ?" I moaned into his mouth.

"No I want you on this table, now," he demanded.

Drew lifted me onto the old mahogany table. The dark, marred table holding my weight without a groan. He was quick to remove my tank top and I, his. His body covered in tattoos. It was such a turn on. As I looked up at the towering man now unbuckling his jeans, I held his gaze. No underwear? His thick, tanned prick stood to attention as I gasped at his size. How would he get me out of my leggings? Well, he tore them. Simply to tell you the truth. The brutish strength of this criminal had me moaning without any sort of intimation of action.

My leggings remained, but my pussy now naked and visible, was sweating from the pleasure. Spitting on his hand, and lubing his cock to enter me was heady. His entire body was now tense and I needed a release now. Taking control of the situation, I pushed his hips closer to me, so his tip teased my swollen clitoris.

"No foreplay, put your cock in me," I demanded. My voice breathy.

"You sure you can take it?" he was smiling at me now.

"Give me your worst." I hit back.

Drew slipped his cock inside of me, but grabbed my neck tightly. I was at mercy to this strong, dangerous man and I was loving every moment of it. Using my neck as his support he pushed into my wet pussy, breaking any tenderness we may have shared. Feeling a deep sense of fulfilment, the veins in his cock pushing my walls further wide. I was being stretched by this man. Each thrust was hard and unforgiving. I was sure to be left with bruises in my inner-thighs.

A second hand creeped around my neck adding weight to the already erotic slow death that would accompany my orgasm. His thrusts became urgent as he realised, I was losing my soul to his throbbing cock. It turned him on beyond words that he was in control of my life. As if he could sense me falling away, he loosened his grip, gracing me with oxygen he so kindly bestowed on me. His large, tattooed hand fell on my thigh and he gripped as he turned me to my side so he could acquire further access, deeper. I didn't know if I could take him any deeper as I whimpered from the agony of being denied my basic human right.

His cock seemed to harden at my feeble attempt to console myself, and his hands found my throat again. Tighter. His cock pushed out of me, like a sword being unsheathed. He looked down, proud of his weapon, and proud at how he excreted the wetness from me, my liquid gold. Why did he stop? If only I didn't ask that question in my mind, I would have known that was the pregame to his rough tirade on my body.

Drew's left-hand left my neck and stroked my cheek so tenderly. Then, he slapped his hand across my cheek, it wasn't hard, it was... something. My scream echoed throughout the pub, from the shock of his searing touch. And with that, his cock entered me again, harder and faster. His head tilting back as loud, animalistic groans escaped his lips. My cheek, red from the assault had spiked further pleasure. My wetness acted as a slide for him to push me back and forth to his rhythm. The veined cock was completely engrossed inside of me, burrowed. Never to come out again.

As Drew drilled me, I could feel my orgasm building. I was close to the release I needed, but I needed him to slap me again. Perplexed at my request, my mouth could only form an 'o' shape. "Slap me... har-harder please." I managed to splash out in my reverie. But he didn't. Instead, he lifted me from the table, placing his hands around my neck again. Cock in and out of me. I couldn't even concentrate on his speed nor power. As the air was escaping me again, he eased just slightly, finding my clit and rubbing it slowly.

The combination of the orgasm bursting through me and the feeling of fainting was euphoric. I screamed quietly as my pussy convulsed and stars had befallen. I knew Drew had finished because when I awoke on the table, his seed was dripping out of. From the corner of my eye, he was exiting the pub. Winking at me, he closed the door. Leaving me light-headed and fully satiated.