Getting What I Need

"Your turn, Jemma!" The birthday girl hollered across the room at me, walking away from the young, hung, and incredibly sexy caucasian male stripper.

"Uh, I'll take a rain check, but thank you, Alice," I laughed, refusing to have my photo taken beside anyone naked.

It was Alice's thirty-sixth birthday, not a particularly special milestone, but her sister decided it warranted a tall, muscular stripper with blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes. My friends behaved like teenagers when he arrived at the local rugby club's, privately booked, players lounge, dressed typically as a firefighter.

Like me, Alice was also divorced, but unlike me, she had two children who were staying with her parents for the evening. I wore a form-fitting, black mini dress with thin spaghetti straps and a deep plunging neckline, comfortable displaying my five-seven, curvaceous figure and large bust.

I teamed it with a small red handbag, which matched my four-inch stilettos and lipstick, and my long, dark-brown hair was styled wavy, falling loosely past my shoulders with soft volume and a natural side part. All together, it was my new going out style. Sultry, self-assured, slightly rebellious, and available for the right guy.

Once all the shenanigans were over with, my friends and I, most of whom were married mothers, unashamedly having rubbed body oil into a much younger man's muscles, and tongued whipped cream from his impressive cock before posing for photos with him, it was time to head into the city for a girl's night out.

Thirty-six myself, I was looking forward to hitting the bars when the young, hunky stripper approached me at the players lounge bar, showing a curious interest in why I was the only one at the party who didn't get involved in the slutty antics.

"Hi, I'm Adam, but I guess you already knew that." He grinned, now dressed handsomely smart in black jeans, black shoes, and a white, button-down shirt, his work done for the night. "Jemma, right?"

"Yes, that's right," I said with a dry smile, finishing my glass of wine. It was both strange and comical seeing him looking like an ordinary guy, except for his flushed face and the faint scent of body oil.

"I guess strippers are not your idea of fun, hey? To be honest, it's not mine either."

"Oh, really? You could have fooled me. It looked like you were having a whale of a time out there," I laughed.

"Believe it or not, I'm an engineering student. Hopefully, I will be able to knock all this shit on the head in a few months."

"Actual engineering or..."

"Mechanical. This just helps pay towards the expensive tuition fees."

"Brains and brawn," I quipped, hiding the fact that I was secretly impressed.

Adam chuckled as if he were almost embarrassed. "I guess you really do hate strippers. Most of the women I perform for are either celebrating or trying to forget something. You don't look like either."

I turned to face him fully, noting that he was tempted to drop his gaze into my cleavage. "Oh? So, what do I look like?"

He smiled like I had caught him off guard, but then he thought before answering, something else I like in a man, it shows intelligence. "Elegant yet edgy. You look like a woman who owns every moment."

Feeling flirtatious, I turned to face the bar and put my empty glass down. "Hate is a strong word," I said, dipping into my handbag for my phone. "I'm just not like my friends. But I thought you did a decent job exciting a room full of older women."

"Decent?" he chuckled, his ego dented. "Perhaps you could give me some pointers over a quiet drink sometime?"

I looked at my phone, giving him the impression that I was being deliberately rude. "I could... but I'm not going to." I didn't have the first clue about advising a stripper. "You are noticeably young to be this direct." I looked up at him again.

"I'm twenty-five, and you're not exactly ancient," he responded confidently.

"I am thirty-six, which in this particular context is a significant age gap. I am not a mother, but I am divorced."

"His loss, I'm sure." Adam didn't flinch. Why would he? He danced naked in front of women as a side job, probably screwed a lot of them after his shows too.

"I think the jury is still out on whose loss it is," I said more to myself, hinting at the pain which will always be there. "I can see you are a genuine guy but given the circumstances of how we have met, I can't help but think you want either validation or a story to tell your friends."

"Neither. I just wondered if the quiet, sophisticated one was as interesting as she looked. Well, it turns out she is."

Smooth, I thought. Exceptionally smooth.

Loving his attitude, I looked at my phone again and unlocked the screen. "You are too young to take me out for a drink, plus I don't date strippers. No offence, Adam."

"None taken, Jemma," he laughed. "None taken at all. Can't blame a guy for trying."

"Do you have an iPhone?" I asked.

"Uh... yeah?"

"Quickly turn on AirDrop," I instructed.

"What? Why?" He looked puzzled.

"AirDrop. The setting. Turn it on," I urged.

He let out a short, surprised chuckle. "Uh... ok." He curiously unlocked his phone and followed my instructions.

I turned to face him again, my phone close to his as my friends headed for the exit. A second later, he grinned at his screen, admitting he had never used AirDrop before.

"Call me in an hour," I told him sharply, putting my phone away.

"An hour?"

"Yes. Go take a shower and call me in an hour. It was nice talking to you, Adam." I walked away without making a scene. No kiss on the cheek or a handshake. Not even a smile. But my heart was racing.

An hour and more alcohol later, my phone rang from an unknown number. I answered it but struggled to hear properly over the music. It was Adam. I told him I would call him straight back and ended the call. I then told two of my friends that I had to leave, making up a bullshit story.

"Jemma? Ah, that's better. I can hear you now," Adam answered right away.

"Sorry about that. I was in a bar. Have you managed to take a shower yet?" I smirked into my phone, trotting aimlessly down the sidewalk in a black mini dress and red stilettos, my red handbag swinging, ignoring the drunk, gawking men I passed.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Do you want me to come pick you up? I haven't drunk a drop all night, and I only live ten minutes from the city centre. Or do you have plans?"

I tilted my head back, giggling up at the stars. "Do you live alone?" I wondered.

"Yeah, in an apartment. It's not much but it's clean and tidy. No girlfriend. No pets. Just me and a fridge full of beer and protein," he laughed into my ear.

I suddenly felt giddy "And what about your bedside drawer? Do you keep anything important in there?" I asked, knowing what I had in my handbag was too small.

Adam laughed again. "Of course. So, do you want me to come pick you up, or what? Tell me exactly where you are and I will be there in ten to fifteen minutes."

I can't believe I'm doing this, I thought, sat in the passenger seat of his car, smiling knowingly at each other while we talked about Alice and my friends having a great time back at the bar I had just escaped.

He looked and smelled gorgeous, now wearing dark jeans and a dark polo shirt, which stretched across his muscular chest and around his arms. His short blond hair was spiked, and his blue eyes drew me in deeper. I wasn't into muscle-bound men per-se, but this wasn't a date with the chance of a potential future.

At thirty-six, divorced, but still a private and professional person, used to being composed, the controlled version of myself was slowly unravelling as the need for something raw, physical, and slightly reckless overwhelmed me. It felt dangerously exciting and very liberating.

I already knew, visually, every inch of his anatomy, and now I wanted to feel it, to experience it, to be taken and used by such a strong, hunky specimen of a man.

Once we were inside Adam's small but adequate apartment, which he had clearly spring-cleaned before picking me up, the scent of air freshener heavy, I became unrecognisable. I grabbed his polo shirt and pushed him up against the white wall in the hallway, initiating the first intimate contact by kissing him lustfully.

After my heartbreaking divorce, a huge part of me needed proof that I was still desirable. But I wanted that proof to be direct and unfiltered, not through romance and expensive dinner dates. What better way to get that validation into my mind and body than from someone much younger and physically impressive.

The eleven-year age gap, and the fact that Adam was a stripper, simply added a layer of taboo. It felt like I was breaking free, but in truth I was only trying to run away from who I really was. We cannot escape our true self, especially when you have already found it. Everything I had been through just caused me to lose sight of it.

I broke from the passionate kiss with both hands gripping his polo shirt, and his hands cupping my buttocks over the black mini dress. The red, four-inch stilettos gave me the extra height that I needed to reach his mouth as I stared into his sexy eyes, breathing heavily, my large breasts pressed against his thick chest.

"Don't ask me about my feelings, my history, or what any of this means. Just fuck me and then I will leave, ok?"

"I knew you were different," he said, smirking into my eyes before he suddenly had me pinned up against the opposite wall, kissing me hard and messy.

The hallway quickly filled with the sounds of two very horny adults making out like wild animals. I dragged his polo shirt up and over his head, swooning as my hands roamed his strong, delicious body before I feverishly undid his belt and jeans, tugging them down over his hips, revealing CK boxers and that thick bulge.

Meanwhile, Adam removed my small, red handbag and peeled the black spaghetti straps down my arms, then the entire dress down my curvaceous body, exposing my large, 36E breasts before leaving me standing vulnerable in a pool of fabric, wearing only a black thong and red stilettos. The vulnerability excited me.

For a split second, however, insecurity hit as a young, hard, and lean male took a moment to gaze at every older, soft, feminine inch of my body before he had me up against the wall again. His hands cupped my heavy breasts from underneath while his tongue explored my mouth... and my hands eagerly reached.

It was raw like I wanted, taking his lovely thick cock out of his boxers as he kneaded my breasts. He then broke from the kiss and started sucking on my nipples. I gasped up at the hallway ceiling, stroking my hand along his rock-hard length, knowing it was going to be inside me soon, stretching my aching pussy wide.

No words, just heavy breathing and an urgency which felt electric, Adam sank to his knees, kissing down the centre of my body and the soft give of my stomach, then across the waistband of my black thong. He hooked his thumbs in at the sides slowly exposing my neatly trimmed mound. A thin triangle of dark pubic curls.

Right in front of his face, he growled when my hips instinctively thrust towards him as he kept pulling the thong down, exposing my pussy, the outer lips thick and puffy with arousal. I felt so feral, stepping out of the thong before pressed my thighs open.

"Oh fuck..." I gasped when he draped my right leg over his shoulder and stroked his tongue through my wet folds. "Oh yes..."

I never doubted his skills, but boy did he know how to warm-up a woman. He didn't rush or take ages drawing silly little shapes with his tongue. He tasted me properly before giving my clit the same attention. My body arched, one hand flat against the surface of the wall, fingers spread while the other gripped the back of his head.

"Yes!" I cried out. "Make me come!"

I didn't even try to be quiet in case his neighbours heard. I let it all out when the first orgasm tore through me like a storm, eyes closed, body quivering, legs shaking, one heel digging into his back as he held me tight and open, bathing in my juices. Just what I needed, I thought, coming down as he lowered my foot to the floor.

"Let's go to my room," he said, his voice letting me know who was in charge now.

His bedroom was small. A double bed with a black duvet and pillows, which did look clean. A set of wardrobes and drawers that I recognised as old IKEA furniture. A neatly stacked shoe rack against the wall by the door, and a creamy carpet that was in decent condition. He had definitely tidied up before my arrival.

But I wasn't judging. We barely made it inside when I got down on my knees in front of him without any encouragement, pulling and yanking at his boxers. We laughed as he stepped out of them, his thick cock striking me in the face before I took full control of it with both hands.

"Is this what you wanted?" I teased unfairly, looking up at him with my own big blue eyes, knowing a lot of my friends had already kissed and licked his long length.

"The best til last," he chuckled down at me, oozing confidence and pre-come.

I took his response on the chin and then the head of his cock into my mouth, slow and wet, stretching my jaw wider to accommodate his girth before I sealed my red lips around his thick crown, moaning at the musky taste as I worked the sensitive underside with my warm tongue.

I kept one hand stroking and twisting from the base as I sucked and slid my other hand up to his washboard stomach, caressing his ego. Who am I kidding? My own was revelling at having him so hard in my mouth. My pussy hadn't stopped dripping since I had climbed into his car, knowing I was going to get fucked rotten.

After a short while, I needed to give my jaw a break, but not wanting him to know that, I pulled back and began to trace the tip of my tongue along his shaft while gently raking my manicured nails down his defined stomach, making him hiss again.

"Are you going to fuck me, Adam?" I purred, but then closed my eyes and took him deeper, moaning around his cock.

One hand unable to stop touching his body, the other still stroking what my mouth couldn't and would never be able to reach, I sucked harder, feeling the throb inside my mouth as I tasted the salty dew on my tongue. God, I really was feral.

"I'm gonna do more than just fuck you, Jemma," he growled, tangling his hands in my long, brown hair, respectfully resisting the urge to fuck my face like a brute.

Adam released my thick locks and helped me up onto my feet, shoving his tongue down my throat instead of his cock, his hand cupping my left breast firmly again.

"What do you have planned for me?" I panted, stroking him while we kissed.

I sensed the night was only just getting started, yet I was already drowning in how exciting it was. Adam examined my body for an intense moment like it was a gift rather than another easy lay, then reached for a bottle of body oil, which I hadn't noticed was patiently waiting on the bed.

"Seriously?" I laughed.

"With a body like yours? Absolutely," he grinned, flipping the lid open.

I laughed once more, breathing in the lightly sweet and floral scent when he poured a generous amount into his palm. He rubbed his hands together, warming the oil before massaging it into my large breasts, wonderfully slow and sensual.

"How does that feel?" he beamed.

"Very nice," I replied softly, draping my arms around his neck but giving him room to work. "Not what I had expected."

"Despite what you might think of guys like me, I love your body, Jemma," he said, rubbing his oily thumbs across my taut nipples. "Before I spend the night ruining it, I want to spend some time cherishing it," he smirked knowingly. I giggled shyly.

It really wasn't how I saw my night going when I stepped out of my house hours earlier, to be swaying slightly from Alice's birthday stripper's young, strong neck, staring softly into each others' eyes while he oiled my breasts for our pleasure.

It was the most surreal yet arousing massage of my life, standing calmly close together after the way it had started in the hall and progressed into the bedroom. Adam was in no rush. He cupped one breast at a time with both hands, supporting the weight as we kissed.

"I can't even begin to imagine how many women have been in the position I am in right now," I laughed, showing a bit of insecurity, but not wanting him to stop.

He smirked dismissively, gliding upward over the undersides of my breasts, then around the sides and over the tops, using his palms and the soft parts of his fingers to cover the surface before lifting them gently and oiling the crease underneath.

"I'm not going to pretend that I haven't brought women back here after a show," he said, pausing to pour more oil into his hand. "But I really wanted to take you out for a drink sometime. I would still like to."

Would it be so bad if I went out for a drink with a younger man? The younger man who was sliding his oiled hands down the valley between my breasts, then outward over my ribs and underneath again before continuing down the soft curve of my stomach with long, firm, skilled strokes.

"You have such a sexy figure, Jemma," he whispered, exploring my natural hourglass shape. In at my waist, out over my hips, making me wish he were my age.

"Thanks," I smiled into his eyes and kissed his lips as he reached around, oiling the small of my back and the upper curve of my buttocks, his cock poking my tummy.

Still standing in my red stilettos, I brought one hand down from his neck and positioned him between my legs, making us both jolt as his cock nestled in my warmth. I didn't think about how risky that actually was, until I felt the electric spark in my pussy, releasing a pool of arousal.

"Oh fuck..." I suddenly panted.

"Oh, Jemma," Adam groaned, his hands on my buttocks, covering both cheeks as he pulled me closer, sliding my wet labia along the upper surface of his thick shaft.

"Oh my God," my voice and body quivered.

"Oh, you naughty girl," he breathed, gripping my buttocks and keeping the contact tight as he kissed me hungrily.

The friction increased my wetness tenfold, with each small sway of my hips causing the head of his cock to slide along my slit, the angle slightly upward, both pleasurable and worrying as it flirted with my opening instead of staying neatly between my thighs. I wanted him to use a condom, but I needed him inside me now.

Kissing open mouthed and desperate, my pelvis tilted instinctively as Adam pulled against my buttocks, raising me onto the balls of my feet. My hips lifted, changing the angle, and suddenly the head of his cock sat excitingly more square against my opening. No longer sliding past it.

Using my calves, I began to move up and down instinctively once more. I then felt the unmistakable pressure of blunt flesh against my soft, wet, and yielding folds. Our arousal spiked in unison to a level that could not be quashed or even tamed.

"I got you, Jemma," Adam breathed, bending his knees and widening his stance as he continued to hold me tightly.

I moaned, raising a leg and hooking my knee around his muscular thigh, pulling myself onto him for better leverage. Then, putting both arms around his thick neck, soft not clamping, my pelvic floor relaxed as I exhaled, making the entry smoother.

Fuck! He's pushing inside me without protection. Adam groaned at my instinctive, rhythmic squeezes, encouraging him to push deeper inside.

I didn't think I was capable of such a position. But Adam was strong, supporting my weight as I hung from his neck and kept my leg locked around his, moaning as he thrust more freely, stretching my opening, my eyes fluttering.

When he finally breached my entrance, pushing inside my pussy, I gasped at the concentrated pressure radiating upward through my pelvis. The fullness was sharp. My pelvic floor tightened, causing an involuntary clench that we both felt.

"Ummm..." Adam groaned against my neck as my arms locked firmly around his, my hooked leg pulling as tight as possible.

It's amazing how the body knows exactly what to do even when the mind is still trying to catch up. I was using that leverage to draw myself farther onto his shaft. I needed him badly. I needed that thick cock of his deeper inside my pussy.

"Fuck me," I panted in his ear, lengthening my spine when I rose higher onto my toes, desperate to help him in anyway I could.

My hips were making small, searching movements. Tiny circles and slow downward rocks, trying to find the best angle. Being filled while standing face-to-face was very new, intimate, and exciting for me, and I felt that vulnerability again.

But the position was both tiring and frustrating after a few minutes. Adam could only thrust two or three inches inside me, which was fabulous, but we both needed more. Using all his strength, he carried me towards the bed and sat down on the edge, pulling me onto his lap.

I planted my feet firmly on the floor and reached down between us, my red stiletto heels creating dent marks in the light carpet as I wrapped a hand around the middle of his pulsating shaft, stroking it a few times while I hovered above the tip.

"Don't pull me down," I told him, feeling his hands applying pressure to my hips. "I need to take this slowly," I said, aligning myself before lowering carefully. "Ohhh... fuck... you're so thick..." I trembled, his girth forcing me take him an inch at a time.

"You're in control," Adam whispered, taking advantage of having my large breasts hanging right in front of him.

He cupped my tits together and buried his face between them, kissing, licking, and sucking as he groaned, telling me that he loved how big and soft they were. Meanwhile, I was thinking about how big and hard his cock was as I circled my hips slightly, taking more of him inside me.

"Ohhh... fuck!" I exclaimed, gripping his thick shoulders with both hands, digging my nails into his tight skin and muscles.

"Yes, that's it..." Adam hissed, resting his hands on my hips again, gently, as I began to use my legs and heels to push off before lowering myself again. Up and down slowly, I gradually took his cock.

"Oh fuck..." I whimpered into his neck, fully impaled, climaxing uncontrollably.

I really wanted to be in control for that ride, but his cock was simply too big, too magnificent. Adam held me close on his lap, telling me how hot and tight my pussy felt letting go around his length. Once it had ended, I stayed clinging to him and began to move my hips in figure-eights, chasing another mind-blowing orgasm.

"Ready to get fucked, Jemma?" he breathed raggedly into my ear after a few minutes. I sensed he needed control.

"Yes," I whimpered, still clinging to him with my face buried in his shoulder.

"Let me hear you say it?" he groaned, letting me do all the work on his lap.

"I want you to fuck me..." I panted.

"And how do you want me to fuck you?" he groaned again.

"Like a slut..." I confessed.

Adam stood us up and moved me to the side of the bed, where he bent me over the edge. With my body on the mattress, arse up, heels still on the floor, I closed my eyes and pulled the fabric of his duvet into my fists, preparing myself for something I wanted but didn't know if I could handle.

"Tell me if it becomes too much," he said aggressively, nudging the head of his cock between my folds as he gripped my waist.

"Just fuck me!" I spat, sounding almost sadistic. I had no idea what I was thinking. Was I challenging or punishing myself?

"Alright then, Jemma," Adam chuckled, definitely sadistically, and right before the moment he drove back in, hard and deep.

"Ahhhhhh... fuck!" I screamed, not in pain, but something else.

"You like that, Jemma? Yeah? You like getting fucked like a greedy little slut?"

Adam grabbed my long, brown hair, pulling my head up and back hard as he slammed into me repeatedly. Now I understood why he had moved us to the side of the bed. I was suddenly looking straight at myself in his bedroom mirror. I had never seen my reflection during sex before, and nor did I have a desire to.

It was haunting to see my thirty-six-year-old self bent over a bed by a much younger, muscular man pounding his big cock into me from behind. I wanted to bury my head in the duvet, but I couldn't move it. I couldn't even close my eyes because of how tight he held my hair.

"Oh my God!" I cried out, my face heavily flushed but still made up, blue eyes wide, my mouth and red lips open, gasping for air as each breath was forced out of me.

"You make a beautiful slut, Jemma!" Adam grunted, spanking my buttocks as he ploughed every inch into my pussy. "Look at those big titties swing! So hot!"

I could see and feel them swinging heavily like never before, brushing against the top of the duvet. Is that what a slut looks like, or was I just seeing the reflection of a woman who was no longer holding back? I was making some wild, uncontrollable noises, helpless sounds, taking it hard.

"Oh fuck, this pussy feels good!" Adam panted, gripping my waist with both hands.

He fucked me like I wasn't even human. I might as well have been a real-life sex doll because that's how he fucked me over his bed. But before I climaxed, I realised I was still looking at myself in the mirror, my eyes fixated on my reflection gasping and screaming in utter pleasure, yet Adam hadn't been holding my hair for a while.

When an orgasm began to take a hold of me, I was suddenly pushed flat onto my stomach on the bed, with Adam lying heavily on top, pounding my clenching pussy like a stallion on a mission to breed a mare. The extremely deep and heavy penetration had me seeing stars and shapes while my heart palpitated.

"I can't take anymore," I chocked.

"Are you ok?" Adam immediately climbed off, switching to being extremely tentative. He smoothed the side of my head, offering to get me a drink. I reassured him I was fine. I just needed a break to breathe, to gather my thoughts.

"Maybe you shouldn't ask for that kind of treatment from a guy who is packing again in future."

We both laughed as I rolled over, running my fingers through my hair, looking up at the ceiling. "That was something," I sighed, my heartbeat returning to normal.

"Can I cum over your tits?" he asked, smiling as he stroked a light finger between my breasts. "I'd love a tit-job."

I laughed then sat up on the end of the bed. Adam excitedly oiled my busty chest for a second time, and his big cock, then he had me push my soft breasts together firmly from the sides, creating a slippery channel for him to finish in.

"Damn..." he grinned, placing the head of his cock at the top of my cleavage.

He then pushed down into that oil-slicked channel, groaning while I giggled at the few inches sticking out of the top. Not sure if I should bounce my breasts up and down along his cock, or rock them forward and back, I looked up at him, continuing to giggle like a silly schoolgirl.

"That's it, just hold them nice and tight for me," Adam breathed sharply, thrusting his girth into my cleavage, short and hard, while I used my hands to keep the pressure constantly inward.

He didn't ask but I wanted to do it, and knowing he wouldn't complain, I tilted my head downward and began to lick the head every time it poked out the top. I then added a little extra, twisting my breasts in opposite directions for more friction.

"Yes, that's it, Jemma," Adam groaned, completely locked into the physical sensation of being between my breasts.

My ex-husband used to want something in particular. I always said no, too embarrassed to let him do it despite being secretly curious. But now it suddenly felt like the right time to try it.

"Are you going to cum for me?" I asked, my voice sultry and my blue eyes glinting.

"Fucking damn right I am," Adam cursed, finally about to lose it in my cleavage.

"On my tits or face?" I teased, heart suddenly pounding against my chest.

"Oh fuck! What?" he gasped, breaking his rhythm after I had given him an unexpected dirty decision to make.

I giggled then ran the tip of my tongue across my top lip, pressing my oil-slick 36E breasts even tighter together around him, as his arousal spiked and his thrusting became less controlled.

"Urrrr... you want my cum all over your pretty face, Jemma?" Adam suddenly pulled his cock from my cleavage and put a hand on top of my head, pressing down firmly as he frantically stroked his shaft. "Open your mouth fully, you little slut!"

Realising I had just shown a bull, who I couldn't escape from, a red rag, I opened my mouth and closed my eyes, preparing myself for my first ever cum facial, still invitingly holding my breasts up for him.

"Oh fuck, yeah! Here it comes for you, Jemma! All over your sexy face! Uhhhhh!"

Eyes shut tight, bracing myself, I suddenly felt the first spurt hit my forehead, warm and thick with that distinct scent. I then tasted the second spurt when he shot it straight into my open mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I gagged and dropped my head, only for it to be pulled back up.

"Don't move until I've finished!" Adam demanded, turning my head to the side, splashing my left cheek. "You offered me this," he then chuckled, turning my head the other way, warming my right cheek.

The last spurts landed on the upper slopes of my breasts, thick and sticky, but weaker in strength. As soon as he had finished, I took off my stilettos and ran to the bathroom, washing his cum from my face and chest with warm water and a towel before returning to the room.

"Are you ok?" Adam asked, already in bed.

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied, embarrassed. "Just don't talk about it," I then laughed, looking around for my dress before I remembered he had taken it off in the hallway.

"Stay the night, Jemma," he said, his voice kind and pleading.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I responded apologetically, picking my thong up from the floor.

"Just one night. I'll take you home first thing in the morning," he pleaded again.

Against my better judgment, I slid in beside him and quickly realised I would feel better for it in the morning. After a fucking like I had just received, it was nice to be cuddled and kissed affectionately like I was worth more. I just wasn't versed in the promiscuous arts of casual sex yet.

Lying on our sides, with Adam holding me safely in his arms, falling asleep, I lay awake for a while longer as low arousal lingered, reminding me of how explicit the night had been. But it didn't stir into more. It just glowed warm under the surface.

Adam had probably done this a thousand times before, but I hadn't. Contemplating life as a divorced, single woman who had not long entered her late thirties, maybe I needed to before finding the right man, whatever he might look like.

No regrets, Jemma. You gave him your number when he didn't ask for it. You told him to take a shower and then call. You informed him directly of what you wanted and he responded accordingly. You even gave him the choice of where he could cum. This is all on you, my dear. All on you.

I closed my eyes with a smile, enjoying the post intimacy with the man who had fucked my brains out and covered my face in his cum, and gradually drifted off to sleep, only to wake several hours later with that same man kissing my neck softly, aroused with his morning wood.

A little sore, still naked and smelling like oil and sex, I smiled across the room from the bed as he put a hand on my hip and rolled me slightly away from him, pressing his cock against my buttocks. No "good morning" or "how are you?" Just physical.

I opened my legs a little, giving him my consent, then he was inside me again, thrusting sleepy strokes from behind as he held my hip, giving himself room to eventually fuck me with deeper strokes. Even though his focus was mainly about him getting off inside me, I still enjoyed it.

It did not last long. Five minutes of us groaning quietly until he tensed up and flooded my pussy with a load he clearly needed to release. Then we lay there for a few minutes before he asked if he could take me out for that drink sometime. I kissed him with a smile and politely declined. I had gotten what I came for.

I took a quick shower, only washing my body with hot water because he obviously didn't have any female toiletries in his apartment. I then put my thong, dress, and shoes back on before letting him drop me off near my house, so he didn't know exactly where I lived. Adam was disappointed but he understood.

Unfairly on my part, but it was what it was, had he not been eleven years younger and a stripper who had performed at my friend's birthday party, I would have had that drink with him, and probably enjoyed a casual fling for a while, knowing the kind of sex I would have gotten in return.

But I was still figuring my life out after my divorce. The one thing I definitely took away from my fleeting time with Adam, was a sense of empowerment at having gotten what I wanted. There was tremendous satisfaction in that, especially because the sex was exactly as I had hoped it would be after watching his provocative performance at Alice's party.

I took the risk and it delivered, but now the bar had been set high for the next risk...