Shortly before the first day of spring, I took a vacation all by myself. I needed to stop thinking and stop worrying about men. I needed to be off on my own for a while to clear my head and my heart. A few bad relationships will do that to a girl.

On day four of my trip, I sat at the bar sipping a colorful mixed drink, while I waited for my rare steak with fries. I didn’t think anything of the bartender looking at me. Guys looked at me all the time, and occasionally I looked at them. But I started to notice this man was different. He gazed at me like I was a puzzle he wanted to solve, not just a potential object of his flirtation.

Putting my head down, I did my best to ignore the thought — and his dark stare. But by the time I was done eating, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

I waved him over, and he held up a finger. At first, I figured he was getting something for another customer, but it became clear that he was just making me wait.

This drew a long sigh out of me. Another asshole.

When he finally decided to come over, he wore a smug smile on his face as he asked, “What can I do for you?”

His voice was deep and raspy and seemed to go right to the center of me. I hadn’t been aroused by a man since I ditched dating apps a few months earlier, so the feeling sort of startled me.

“You can get me another of these,” I said, waggling the glass at him. “But you can also stop staring at me.”

“Was I staring?” the smirking bartender asked as he swiped his white cloth across the bar.

“Yes, you were.”

“Sorry. Didn’t realize.”

I didn’t believe that for a second.

I watched him make my cocktail. Watched those muscular forearms as he shook my drink and poured it out. It dawned on me that I was nervously shifting in my seat. There was a definitive thump, thump, thump throbbing inside my panties, as if my pussy was acting in concert with my heartbeat.

He set the drink in front of me, cocked an eyebrow and asked, “You OK?”

I nodded, not trusting my tongue. He had an air about him. Absolute self-confidence. A peaceful command of the room. A body that made me horny. It made me realize how long it had been since I’d been laid — and laid well.

Too long. Way too fucking long.

“You sure?” He leaned forward and was so close to me that I could smell his spicy cologne. “You seem kind of tongue-tied.”

When he said it, he stared at my mouth.

My mind supplied me with an X-rated image of him shoving his fat cock into my mouth — past my plump lips and over my tongue. But that was just the beginning. In a brief moment, I also imagined how he’d take me any way he wanted and however he needed. He’d leave me exhausted, yet still craving more.

I licked my lips without realizing I was doing it.

“Hello?” he asked, attempting to grab my attention again.

“Oh, sorry! I’m fine. Just a little distracted,” I explained.

“Drink up,” he said authoritatively. “That’s your last one.”

I looked at the clock and asked, “Is it closing time?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

“No?”

He gave another head shake and added, “Last one because I want you to be totally aware and sober when I take you to my place.”

I paused with the glass halfway to my lips. I wondered: Should I slap him? Laugh at him? Tell him off?

Instead, I gave a short nod and sipped my cocktail.

He wanted to take me to his place, and I wanted him to take me to there. I didn’t know what he’d do, but I wanted it all the same.

I sat there nursing my drink, and when his shift was done, he told the other bartender he was taking off. He assured his coworker, “I’ll close out for you next time.”

Her dark eyes found me at the bar. She grinned as she told him, “Yeah, yeah. Have fun.”

He touched the back of my wrist and just that subtle gesture was commanding. I shifted on the stool, feeling a fresh surge of need.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded. This was crazy, and yet it wasn’t. I wanted him. My whole body spoke to me.

His car was a nondescript sedan that smelled like pine air freshener.

“My name’s Bruce,” he said, putting his hand on my knee. The sensation skittered up my thigh and into my pussy.

I barely managed to gasp out my name.

“My place is close,” he said. “Right around this corner.”

His fingers moved ever so gently, and it felt like an erotic fire was coursing through the center of me.

His apartment was on the top floor of a four-unit, walk-up building. My legs were shaking as I ascended the stairs with him.

He flipped on the lights and shut the door to his place. Then he said, “Forgive me. I need to do this.”

Suddenly, his big hand was on the back of my neck, anchoring me. His soft lips met mine, and the kiss made my toes curl. When I responded in kind, he took a step in, closing the small gap between us, and pressed his hard body against me. My back was flat against the wall by the door, and his muscular frame nestled against my more delicate one. I also felt his cock, hard and long, pressing against my belly through my dress. I wanted this man so badly my brain was scrambled.

I slid my hand down to find his erection and stroked it through his black pants. But he caught my wrist, circling it with his thumb and middle finger like a manacle.

“No touching me.”

“No touching,” I echoed dumbly. Stunned didn’t cover how I felt.

“I’d like to play with you.”

I looked him in the eye, gauging the situation, and felt only desire. I nodded in response.

He ran his hand up the inside of my thigh all the way to the crotch. Then his fingers tickled my mound for the briefest second, and arousal flared hot and wet between my legs.

“If at any point you want me to stop, just say pepper,” he instructed.

“Pepper?”

“Pepper. No one accidentally says pepper, do they?”

I shook my head.

Bruce took hold of my wrists and led me deeper into his living room. I spotted a leather bench. He ordered me to sit, and I obeyed.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” he asked.

“No, not particularly.”

“Good,” he said, pulling a black blindfold from the drawer of a nearby table.

He moved behind me and lifted up my hair. He tickled my nape with his fingertip, and a shiver coursed through me as if I was struck by a cold breeze. He nipped the side of my neck where it met my shoulder, and my nipples hardened instantly. Then the blindfold was settling over my eyes, and the soft glow of his living room was gone.

The absence of visual cues made me more alert. I listened intently for any movement. Then he was pulling the back zipper of my dress down, and he was tugging the garment gently over my head. I sat there in thigh-high stockings, my underwear and my ankle boots.

“Octopi,” he said. “Nice.”

A blush crept into my cheeks. I’d forgotten my blue panties were festooned with hot pink and neon purple sea creatures. I hadn’t any idea that I’d lose my dress in front of a stranger that the evening. Silly panties had seemed just fine.

His fingertips were soon sliding in whirls and lines along the cotton covering my mound. I realized he was tracing the small animals to tease me. When he dragged his finger over my clit briefly, I hissed between my teeth.

He took off each of my booties. Next, he slipped off my thigh-high stockings, taking his sweet time. All the while, my pussy grew hotter, wetter and plumper with all the waiting.

I assumed he was going so slowly on purpose.

Bruce slipped a finger into my panties, stroked my slit, and then deftly slid his digit into my cunt.

He chuckled and added, “You’re very, very ready to play.”

“Fuck yes!” I replied, impatiently bucking my hips toward his finger.

His mouth was suddenly at my ear, and he whispered softly, “If you want me to fuck you — and you want to come — you need to not rush me and do as I say. If you can’t do that, then we should just stop here.”

The stern clip to his voice only made my predicament worse. My cunt was thumping with arousal, and I was desperate to climax. I wanted him to give me something that would take away the want and replace it with sweet relieving pleasure.

“Take my hand,” he said.

I felt around for a moment until I found it. He helped me stand and yanked off my panties, then he settled me back down on the bench.

Bruce stepped closer to me. I felt his heat crowding me and heard his zipper. It seemed as loud as a chainsaw and was followed by a rustle of fabric.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

I obeyed, and his hard cock slid past my lips. His shaft glided over my tongue and pushed so far into my throat that he briefly stole my breath. Just as I nearly lost it, he pulled free of my mouth. He rested his hand on the top of my head. Then he began an easy cadence, swiftly fucking my face.

I squirmed, and my fingers automatically went right to my pussy.

That earned me a sharp “tsk” from him, and he pulled his dick out of my mouth. He moved so suddenly that I swear I heard a pop, which nearly made me laugh. But truly there was nothing funny about our situation.

Next, something soft but strong wrapped around my wrists, which were soon bound tight enough to distract me. My hands were in my lap, but I felt helpless.

“Those slutty stockings of yours came in handy,” he said. “No touching — me or yourself — unless I grant you permission. You hear me?”

I nodded as he brought his hand to the back of my head. He returned his cock to my mouth. I moved with him, trying to anticipate how he wanted me to treat him.

He pulled away again, and I sat there — blind, bound and waiting.

I heard him in the distance. He was moving around. A lot of little sounds registered — and then nothing.

The silence was deafening.

I wanted to shout out hello, but I didn’t. I waited patiently. He was making me stew on purpose. I felt it in my bones.

His hands were on me again, and his hot breath was on my neck. I shivered as he scraped his teeth along my exposed skin. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but my bound hands reminded me that I was to simply sit there and let him fondle me — and hopefully fuck me.

He must have been on his knees. He was level with me as he held me. Next, he was pulling me up and moving me away from the bench. My hands were still bound, and I had to trust him not to let me fall.

It was disorienting, that feeling of being in the middle of nothingness. But then he was holding me from behind, spreading my legs and coming up from under me with a short, sharp thrust. His cock was deep within me. He kept one muscular arm bound around my chest and another around my belly as he fucked me. His mouth was against my ear, whispering dirty sweet nothings as I shivered in his embrace.

I wasn’t touching my clit, and neither was Bruce. He was hugging me and pounding away at me from behind. I didn’t think there was any way I could come. However, excitement with an edge of fear had my mind and body in chaos. A sudden swift arousal started to course through me. I gasped, and he sighed. His teeth found my shoulder, and he bit me gently. When I moaned, he did it again a bit harder.

“You like that little hint of pain. Don’t you, my slutty little guest?”

Another moan slipped out of me at that moment. His cock rammed deep. His brisk, short jabs lifted me onto my toes. I felt as if I was floating, and the sensations took my breath away. I was overwhelmed by the shock of it all.

He pinched my nipple, and a spark of pain slammed through me amid my small, dark world. The ensuing orgasm, which came on hard, stole my breath. Every time he drove into me, he slid along the swollen tender channel of my pussy. It was pure bliss.

“That’s was good,” Bruce said. “Now, let’s go lay you down.”

I lifted my hands, as if I could feel my way. I’d briefly forgotten I was bound.

He helped me onto a soft springy mattress and then pushed a pillow beneath my head.

“You still good?” Bruce asked.

I couldn’t tell where he was or where I was. I felt so exposed, and I wanted more. More him, more orgasms, more pleasure, more pain.

“Yes,” I assured him.

“Good.”

He parted my legs and tied them down. My wrists stayed wrapped before me, bound by my stockings.

“Put your arms up,” he instructed.

I raised them above my head and soon felt the weight of him on my belly and then my chest. He was straddling my torso, and next, I felt the slide of his hot cock along my lower lip. I licked it tentatively and hoped I wasn’t overstepping.

“That’s very good,” he said.

I was grateful for his reaction and parted my lips further. He slid the head of his cock inside my mouth. I licked and sucked him as best I could. I felt him rocking against me as he fucked my face. Then he pulled back and grazed his spit-slickened cock across my chin. He moved downward and pinched one of my nipples hard enough to make me buck.

“Shh, shh,” he said, soothing me.

He moved to the other nipple, pinching that one, too. Then his body was covering mine. His teeth scraped along my neck and shoulder, then he delivered thrilling bites that had me writhing.

I mewled, making desperate sounds I knew he’d appreciate. I did my best not to be an aggressor. I hoped my patience would be rewarded, and finally it was.

Bruce smashed down on me, so much so that it was a struggle for me to draw a breath. But then his hand slipped between my thighs and guided his thick cock inside me. I savored the feeling of his rod entering me and how it filled and stretched me.

I wriggled like a worm on a hook. My legs kicked out fretfully, but I remained his captive. He took hold of my bound wrists, and there was barely any space between our bodies as he fucked me.

Bruce kissed me, stealing what little breath I had. I gasped as bliss built and tumbled inside me. I was one big nerve ending with pleasure guiding me on a path to ecstasy.

I moved at his pace, mirroring his motions as much as I could, and joy continued to swell inside me. I clenched my pussy muscles around his driving dick, and he grew still for a moment. I wondered if he was considering scolding me for my boldness, but I didn’t care. It all felt so good.

Every time he thrust into me, our bodies pressed together. His hard angles repeatedly crashed into my soft curves, and the delicious friction was maddening.

I soon came with a loud cry that he muffled with a rough kiss. Then he moved once more and untied my legs. He grabbed my thighs and hiked me up. Leveraging myself, I pressed my back against the mattress, and he pulled my pelvis closer. Holding me at that angle, his cock entered me again.

My mind was clamoring. Was this a reverse wheelbarrow? Did it even have a name? Was it just instinct?

But my brain stopped spinning when he hit his stride. He thrust into my growing wetness, pummeling my G-spot and the tender swollen flesh inside me. I clenched my muscles again and once more sensed his pause, his hesitance. Then he was fucking me fast and furious, his breath harsh and taxed.

His fingers bit into the meat of my thighs as he anchored me. I moved slightly to take him, clenching my cunt again and again.

Finally, he surrendered to his need. The noise he made was deep and animalistic. His body jolted against mine as I gasped.

He emptied into me with a rush, and I felt the warmth of his cream flowing into and out of me almost simultaneously. He finally withdrew completely and surprised me by clamping his wet mouth over my fat clit. He flicked it over and over again with his tongue until by body arched like a bow and I was screaming out my pleasure.

As my climax retreated, I lay there panting. The world was still dark, and my senses gradually came back to me.

Had this all really started with a drink at a bar? I decided I should take solo vacations more often.

My body thumped and ticked like a cooling engine as my pulse came down and the steady thud between my thighs eased.

When Bruce took off the blindfold, the light was brilliant. I felt like a dopey smile was on my face.

“You still good?” he asked, laughing.

“Oh, I’m good,” I told him. “I’m very fucking good.”