This story contains graphic sexual content. It is for adults only. If you're a child, please leave now. There are no sexually explicit photos contained, but the text content is sexual in nature.

Fresh off a divorce from a chronic lying, cheating spouse, I made it my mission to be as promiscuous and destructive as I dared be.

I mean, I already felt disgusting so why not do something so out of character and give myself a reason to feel that way?

Being single again after 7 years of marriage and three kids later, I felt like I would never find a true mate.

But I had needs that hadn't been met in a long time.

Fuck long-term relationships, anyway. I just wanted someone to screw my brains out, and I didn't care who did it.

Securing a babysitter for the night, I got dressed in clothes that didn't have baby puke or stains on them, touched up my makeup and headed to one of my favorite bars. I knew it wasn't smart to be a woman alone walking into a bar, but I felt some semblance of security as I knew the bartender and the owner.

As I walked in, I felt a little dejected as the only patrons were a few of the old-timers. In other words, it wasn't even slim-pickins.

I sat at the bar and ordered a screwdriver. It went down easy - too easy. So I ordered another, sipping it a little slower this time.
I heard the jingling of bells, which signaled another person coming in. I never even turned around to see who it was. I was going to maybe have a third drink, bother the regulars for a dollar in the jukebox - maybe shoot a game of pool and go home. But the newcomer, sidled up next to me and ordered a bottled beer.

He was tall with dark hair - the complete opposite of my ex-husband, and he had just enough crinkle around his eyes to show he wasn't some punk kid.

Lifting up my near-empty glass, I said, "Cheers." He tipped his beer toward me and we drank a silent toast.
We drank in silence as the TV droned with the sports channel as someone played Old Hank Williams on the music box.
The tall stranger asked if I wanted another drink and nodded to the bartender to make it happen.

"You look like you've had a rough day," I noticed. Actually, he looked about as bad as I felt inside. You could see the look in his eyes.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "rough year."

I turned toward him, my legs practically straddling the bar stool.

And as we chatted about everything and nothing, he was soon nestled between my legs. The loud music was excuse enough to whisper in each other's ear.
Another drink in and I felt his large, calloused knuckle brush tentatively against my clit. I was already warm from the booze but I felt myself getting wet from his feather touch. I edged my hips a little closer to his hand and he got a little braver. Turning his hand, his thumb began to work little magic circles.

By outward appearances we were cool as cucumbers. As I readied to take another sip of my drink, I looked over the rim of my glass and said,

"Finish your drink."

He paid our tab while I left a generous tip and we exited the bar. I was going to follow a stranger to his place. It was only a five minute drive. My brain tried to convince me it was stupid. My heart was beating fast.

I followed him to his driveway and when I got out of the car, my legs were shaking...from nervousness or need? I can't be sure.

As soon as the door was closed, he pressed me against the wall. I could feel his whole body against me as he nibbled my neck. The bulge in his pants pressed against where I needed him to be.

Scratching, biting, sucking and kissing, we tried to find any piece of exposed skin.

Taking my hand, he led me to the bedroom and began to strip as I stood and watched. He was thin but muscular with a couple of tattoos on his arms. When he dropped his pants, I couldn't stop staring at his erection. It was long and thick, quivering with a need that I felt.

As he approached me, I grabbed his hard-on and stroked. He filled my hand and his erection grew bigger with every stroke. I could feel the veins throbbing with every beat of his heart.

"Take your clothes off."

His voice must have dropped an octave. As soon as I was naked, he pushed me on the bed and laid on top of me. I could feel the length and weight of him and it felt good.
He seemed to hesitate a little. "You're kind of small. I'm afraid of hurting you."

I couldn't believe how I replied. "Oh, shut up and fuck me."

Spreading my legs wider, I felt his finger slowly enter me, then two. His thumb teased my clit, while his mouth grazed on my breasts.

I felt cold when he got up. Just when I was about to protest, his hot mouth was down there. His finger and tongue tag-teaming my vagina, sending me into a frenzy.
I yanked his hair and tried to get his attention but he was solely focused on making me come...and I fought it.

No, an orgasm couldn't be that easy, I thought, especially since I'd never had one with my husband. All those years I honestly thought something was wrong with me.

"Come on, baby," he whispered from between my legs. "Don't fight me."
My entire body bucked and vibrated. I could feel him smiling, but he wasn't done. His mouth and fingers made me come another time - and another. But I wanted more. I needed to feel full.

"I need you in me NOW."

He obliged with one swift stroke of his hard dick. I could feel my body stretch to accommodate him as his pelvic bone pressed against my swollen nub.
He pulled out slowly so I could feel every inch and ridge of him caressing the walls of my vagina, then quick and hard, thrust back into me.
He picked up the pace when I said, "Faster." He punished me when I said, "Harder."

In and out. In and out. It hurt so good.

I came at least 2 or 3 more times, though I'd lost track at this point.

Then he turned me over. Getting on my knees, ass pointed toward the heavens, he got behind me and used his knees to spread mine wider. He nudged my nether lips rooting for the hot, wet spot, and entered me again. It almost felt like the tip of his penis was hitting my belly button. Grabbing my hips, he pounded me from behind as his balls slapped at my clit. I came so hard, I had to bite his pillow to dub the sound of my ecstasy cries.

Exhausted and sated, I began to wilt. He turned me over onto my back and fucked me some more before his pace got slower and gentler.

"My turn," he grunted. From hilt to tip, he took a leisurely pace. In and out. In and out.

His face changed as he laid his body weight on me; both hands on my ass, his pace quickened to a fevered pace and I felt the heat of his ejaculate fill me.

His body convulsed with the power of his orgasm before pulled out and laid next to me, his arm draped over his eyes. I'm not entirely sure if he fell asleep.

Using the sheet spotted with sweat and cum, I wiped between my shaking legs and silently got dressed.

Without a single word, I left.

Completely sober, I saw the time on the dashboard and realized I had experienced three hours of fuck-olympics. My whole body hurt so good.

I've never seen him again. Never knew his name. But my mission was in process to fuck away my ex-husband and rebuild my self-esteem and my life. He was only the first fuck and I wondered if the next guy would be so good.

-Secret Writer

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