The Christmas Fantasy That Began in a Bar

I saw you the moment I walked into the bar.

You were at the end of the counter, in the darkest corner, with a short glass between your fingers and the posture of a woman who didn’t want to be bothered, but didn’t want to be left alone either. The warm light outlined your profile without revealing it completely, and that was exactly what caught me. I couldn’t see you clearly, but I could see enough to know you were a self-assured adult woman, the kind who didn’t smile out of politeness, only when she truly felt like it.

I signaled the bartender and asked him to bring you another drink on my tab. You raised your glass in my direction without smiling, as if accepting a game you already knew. That gesture gave me permission to come closer.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” I said, leaning against the bar beside you.

“You weren’t interrupting anything interesting,” you replied, looking me up and down. “Now we’ll see.”

Your voice turned me on instantly. Low, calm, unhurried. We started talking as if we’d known each other before, jumping from one subject to another with that strange ease that sometimes appears only between two strangers who want each other from the very first minute.

You told me you’d gone out to clear your head after a fight with your husband. You didn’t go into details, and I didn’t ask for them. The only thing that mattered to me was the way you wet your lips every time you looked at me, how you played with a lock of hair, and how your thighs crossed and uncrossed beneath your skirt.

After almost an hour, there was no doubt anymore. Your eyes had a different shine. You were aroused, and you weren’t even trying to hide it.

I moved a little closer. I placed one hand on your hip and lowered my voice until I was speaking almost directly into your ear.

“Are you comfortable with me?”

You turned your face just enough for your lips to brush mine.

“If I weren’t, I would’ve left already.”

I kissed you right there. Softly at first, testing you. Your lips parted at once, and your tongue came searching for mine with restrained hunger. The second kiss had nothing cautious about it. You grabbed me by the nape, I squeezed your ass over your skirt, and we pressed ourselves together while music continued playing around us and everyone pretended not to look.

My hand dropped to your knee and stayed there for a moment, giving you the option to move away. You didn’t. Instead, you parted your legs slightly and kept kissing me. I slid my fingers along the inside of your thigh, slowly, feeling your flesh tense beneath the fabric.

“So you do want trouble,” I murmured.

“Depends on what kind of trouble,” you answered, your breathing shorter now.

When I reached your crotch and brushed you through your underwear, you let out a small moan that disappeared into my mouth. You were wet. Not a little: truly wet, hot, ready. I caressed you barely at all, just enough for you to know I’d noticed, and then I withdrew my hand. I wanted to leave you wanting more. It worked.

Your pupils widened. You looked at me with a mixture of defiance and need that made me hard instantly.

“Come to my place for one last drink,” I said.

“And are you going to behave yourself?”

I laughed.

“I’m not going to lie to you.”

You kissed me slowly, sealing your answer. We left the bar with our arms around each other, walking pressed close along the cold street, Christmas lights hanging above us like a respectable joke about what was already taking shape in our bodies.

As soon as we entered the building’s lobby, I turned you around and pressed you against the wall.

This kiss was different: open, dirty, desperate. I lifted your skirt slightly with one hand while the other sank between your legs. Your hips moved toward me at once. I pulled your underwear aside and slipped a finger inside your hot pussy, sliding easily because of how wet you were.

You moaned against my mouth and bit my lip.

“Fuck... yes,” you whispered.

I moved my finger slowly, in and out, while my thumb searched for your clitoris. Your legs trembled. You pressed yourself harder against the wall, opening your thighs wider to give me room. I slid in a second finger, and your breathing broke completely.

“You’re soaked,” I told you in your ear.

“Then don’t leave me hanging.”

The sound of a door closing made us pull apart for barely a second. We stepped into the elevator laughing, still breathless, and as soon as the doors closed, you threw yourself at me again. You undid my pants with a clumsy, delicious urgency, slipping your hand inside my boxers to grab my cock. You squeezed it hard and let out a husky sigh.

“You’re so fucking hard.”

“And you’re driving me crazy.”

We went up devouring each other. Your hand jerked me in short, slow, tight strokes. I held you by the neck and the ass, kissing you without order, breathing in your perfume mingled with alcohol and arousal.

When we entered the apartment, I didn’t even turn on all the lights. I took you against the wall by the entrance and dropped to my knees in front of you.

I looked at you for a second before pulling your underwear down your legs. Your pussy was glistening, open, swollen with desire. I ran my tongue slowly from bottom to top, and your back arched instantly.

“Don’t make me wait,” you said, panting.

I didn’t make you wait, but I did make you suffer a little. I opened you with my fingers and licked you slowly, slipping my tongue between your lips, moving up again and again to your clitoris and circling it before sucking on it. Your hands buried themselves in my hair. You pressed my head against your crotch whenever I found the rhythm that made you moan the loudest.

I slid two fingers inside you and curled them while I kept eating you. Your pussy clenched around them in short spasms. You soaked my entire hand. You were trembling.

“Like that... yes, fuck, like that,” you repeated.

I made you come there, standing with your back against the wall, biting your own fist so you wouldn’t scream too loudly. I felt your thighs tugging at either side of my face and the desperate throbbing of your clitoris against my tongue. When you finished, you stayed there for a few seconds, breathing with your head thrown back.

I stood up and kissed you. You tasted your own flavor in my mouth and let out a satisfied moan.

***

In the living room I poured you a drink, but you barely touched it. We weren’t there to talk anymore, though we continued doing so for a few minutes because the game had its own pleasure too. Sitting on the sofa, you told me that tonight you didn’t want to feel ignored or sad, that you wanted to remember you were still a desired woman, a woman capable of driving a man crazy.

“Then ask me for what you want,” I said.

You took my hand and guided it to your thigh.

“Make me come. Do whatever you want with me... but really do it.”

I unbuttoned your blouse one button at a time without taking my eyes off your face. With each button I opened, you breathed a little deeper. I lowered the fabric from your shoulders and left your breasts enclosed in a dark, firm, beautiful bra. I kissed your neck, then the center of your chest, then each nipple through the fabric until I felt them hard against my mouth.

“You like being looked at like this, don’t you?” I asked.

“I like the way you look at me.”

I took off your bra and spent a moment simply watching you. Then I took one breast in my hand and the other in my mouth. I sucked, bit gently, and licked around the nipple while my other hand opened your legs. You writhed beneath me. Every time I bit a little harder, your hand went straight down to my cock to stroke it through my clothes.

I pulled off your skirt and knelt again. This time there was nothing between my tongue and your body. I opened your legs over the edge of the sofa and began licking you slowly, as if I had all night. From the very first stroke of my tongue, you were releasing more fluid. Your pussy welcomed me open, sensitive, throbbing.

I alternated my tongue with my fingers. I entered you, withdrew, paused at your clitoris, lowered again, opened you, sucked you. I wanted to soak myself in you, make you lose control little by little. Your moans filled the room, less and less restrained. There was no shyness between us anymore.

“Get undressed,” you asked me. “I want to see all of you.”

I took off my clothes without stopping looking at you. Your eyes went straight to my cock, and you bit your lip with shameless hunger.

“Come here,” you said.

I lay down beside you on the sofa, and you grabbed me again. You ran your hand from the base to the tip, squeezing harder than necessary, enjoying the feel of me hard. While your hand moved up and down, I caressed your clitoris with two wet fingers, drawing slow circles at first, then faster ones.

“Look what you’re doing to me,” I told you.

“And I can still make you even worse.”

You proved it immediately. You leaned over and took me into your mouth all at once, as far as you could. The contrast between your hot mouth and your hand gripping the base drew a growl from me. You sucked me without hurry, tasting me, moving up and down with your tongue tight around me. I kept rubbing your clitoris and sliding a finger inside you, then two, noticing how your pussy opened wider with every movement of your body.

“Don’t stop,” you said around my cock, and that combination of your broken voice and obscenity drove me crazy.

I positioned you over me so I could have your pussy above my face and your mouth on my cock. In that position, I devoured you for real. My tongue struck your clitoris while you swallowed me deeply, small gags making you release more fluid onto my mouth. Your hips began moving on their own, searching for more pressure.

I slipped my tongue inside you, then returned to your clitoris and sucked it insistently. Your orgasm arrived violently. You squeezed my cock with your throat, came over my mouth, and remained trembling on top of me while I barely managed to hold back the urge to come too.

“Fuck... fuck...” you repeated, shaking.

I lifted you almost in my arms and carried you to the bedroom.

***

I put you on your back on the bed and then turned you over, leaving you on all fours. The sight hit me in the chest: your ass raised, your back arched, your pussy glistening and still open after your orgasm. I moved behind you and ran the tip of my cock between your lips, getting even wetter from your arousal.

“Put it in already,” you ordered impatiently.

I entered slowly at first, just the tip, enjoying the way you tightened around me. Then a little more. I withdrew almost completely and went back in, brushing the places inside where I knew you felt it most. Your moans rose in pitch. I reached around with one hand to pinch your nipple and held your hip with the other.

“That’s how I wanted to see you,” I told you.

I pushed deeper. Your body moved forward with the impact, and you let out a cry that sent my blood racing. Then I really began to fuck you: long, firm thrusts, faster and faster, listening to the wet slap of my pelvis against your ass and the disordered panting that escaped you with every penetration.

“Harder,” you asked. “Don’t hold back now.”

I gripped your waist and sped up. The bed creaked beneath us. Your pussy squeezed me in a brutal, hot, slippery, perfect way. I lowered one hand to your clitoris and rubbed it while I kept thrusting into you. I felt you begin to tremble again.

“Yes, like that... like that, you bastard... don’t stop.”

You came with my cock inside you, squeezing me so tightly I nearly came right then. I kept pumping, letting you feel every full thrust, until I couldn’t hold back anymore and emptied myself inside you in a series of deep spasms, buried to the hilt. I stayed pressed against your back, biting your shoulder as I finished.

We fell together onto the bed, breathing like exhausted animals.

We covered ourselves for a while, tangled together, with that heavy calm that comes after a good fuck. I thought we would sleep. We didn’t.

***

I don’t know how much time passed before I woke again with my cock hard against your ass. You were still half asleep, lying on your side and breathing slowly. I caressed your belly and crotch. You were sensitive, but the moment I touched your clitoris, you let out a deep sound, almost a purr.

“Again?” you asked without fully opening your eyes.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

I kissed the nape of your neck, moved down your back, and opened your legs again. I began by licking your pussy softly, waking you with my tongue. When you started moving properly beneath my mouth again, I moved higher and ran my tongue over your asshole, slowly, wetting it. Your body tensed.

“I’ve never done it there,” you said, turning your face to look at me.

“Then we’ll take it slowly.”

I went back to your pussy and licked you until you relaxed again. I slid a saliva-slicked finger into your ass, just the tip at first, waiting for your reaction. You took a deep breath but didn’t stop me. I pushed it in little by little while caressing your clitoris with my other hand. Your hips began to move with it.

“Like this?”

“Yes... like that... don’t stop.”

I moved my finger in and out slowly, letting you get used to it. Then I added saliva, tongue, and patience. I kissed your buttocks, sucked your asshole, and went back to inserting my finger a little deeper each time. When you were accepting it without tightening, I added a second finger.

You moaned loudly and dug your nails into the sheet.

“Fuck... wait... no, keep going... keep going.”

I continued. I opened and closed my fingers inside you while eating your pussy with my free mouth. The combination was dismantling you. Your clitoris throbbed against my tongue, your ass gradually relaxed around my fingers, and the scent of your arousal filled the room. When I felt you were ready, I withdrew my fingers and positioned myself behind you.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You gripped my cock decisively, brought it backward, and settled it against your entrance.

“Wet me more... and put it in.”

I spat on the tip and on your asshole, rubbing it there several times before pushing. I entered very slowly, only a little, feeling the tight resistance of your body. You moaned through your teeth. I stayed still so you could breathe.

“Easy,” I told you, kissing your back. “You’re going to take all of it.”

I pushed again. A little more. Then more. Your ass squeezed me brutally, much more intensely than your pussy. Every centimeter I gained made you gasp harder. I caressed your clitoris with one hand to keep you aroused while I continued entering patiently.

Until suddenly you thrust your ass backward and impaled yourself on almost my entire cock in a single movement.

“Fuck!” you cried. “Move.”

I began slowly. I withdrew only a little and went back in, letting you get used to the thickness, the pressure, the burn mixed with pleasure. Your body stopped tensing and began asking for more. I could tell by the way you pushed backward, seeking every thrust.

“Harder,” you said. “I want to feel all of it.”

I grabbed your hips and sped up. The rhythm went from slow to firm, and from firm to hard. Every blow made you release a dirtier moan than the last. I held you with one hand and rubbed your clitoris mercilessly with the other. I was fucking your ass and masturbating you at the same time, and it brought you to the edge incredibly fast.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop... I’m going to come.”

“Do it.”

You came trembling, shaking your ass against my pelvis while I kept pounding you until I lost control. The pressure of your orgasm around my cock was too much. I buried myself to the hilt and came inside your ass with a hoarse growl, squeezing your breasts and biting your shoulder as I finished emptying myself.

We stayed still for several seconds, joined together, breathing unevenly. Then I withdrew slowly and pulled you against my chest. Your body was limp, sweaty, satisfied.

You turned to look at me. Nothing remained of the tense woman I’d found alone at the bar. Now you wore the blissful expression of someone who had been fucked exactly as she needed.

“You made me come like crazy,” you said with a tired smile. “Exactly what I came looking for without knowing it.”

I kissed your forehead, then your mouth.

“Then the Christmas present wasn’t bad.”

You settled against my chest, winding one leg around mine.

“If you don’t mind,” you murmured, “I don’t want to go anywhere else tonight.”

I turned off the bedside lamp and held you tighter.

“Stay.”

Outside, the city lights were still glowing. Inside, among warm sheets and the smell of recent sex, I knew that night hadn’t been a coincidence. It had been exactly the thing one sometimes doesn’t dare ask for out loud: a fantasy fulfilled, raw, adult, and perfect in its moment.