What I Did Last Summer: a Confession

I've been coming (cumming!) to Solo Touch for over a year now and I've finally decided this would be the best forum to get something off my chest that I did last summer. This is the first time I've wrote this experience down and it's sort of therapeutic, so I'm not trying necessarily to get anybody off. I just want to record this experience as accurately as I can remember it. It is, therefore, fairly long. If you want to read the whole thing, go for it, but if you're just looking for a quick tug, maybe you'd prefer a different story. Fair warning!

I think I have an above average sex drive. I get especially horny right before my period. I usually masturbate everyday, sometimes twice, but at certain times of the month I need to cum at least three or four times a day or I'll go insane. Because of this I have had to get myself off in some pretty random places. It's annoying sometimes, but when the urge overtakes me I have to take care of things or my panties will literally get soggy.

So enough about me. On to the story.

It was that certain time of the month for me when I can be near insatiable. I had had a boyfriend who turned out to be a complete asshole so I had broken up with him the week before. I considered keeping him around for another week or two just so I would have someone to help me through the end of the month, but I just couldn't stand the sight of him and he wasn't that good in bed anyway.

I live and work in downtown Denver, for those of you who live in the area, you may be able to guess exactly where this experience took place. I had promised to meet some girlfriends for drinks after work on Friday, but since my boss let me go early I found myself at the bar about an hour before my friends were supposed to show up.

It was already pretty full, but the high energy late night crowd hadn't showed up yet so not too busy. I picked a seat at the bar and ordered a margarita. About the same time my drink arrived so did one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She had long brown hair, beautifully styled, tastefully but minimally applied makeup, dressed professionally in a suit and skirt that came just below her knees, but it was still easy to tell she was proportioned exactly as a woman is supposed to be: curvy and fit!

I'm no lesbian. Sure, I notice an attractive woman when I see one, but I've never had the desire to experiment and a good hard cock is my preferred orgasmic tool. Still this woman (I guess she was near thirty) was one of those people who just oozed sex appeal. She walked right up to the bar next to me, looked at my drink, smiled at me and ordered one of the same.

We struck up conversation and made small talk. She was there to meet a date, and like me, she was early. I was absolutely enchanted with this amazing creature and couldn't help but think of her being stripped and taken with wild abandon by her as yet faceless suitor. I hoped I could hang out with her long enough to see what kind of man she was interested in and so I could flesh out my fantasy. I sipped my drink nervously hoping she wouldn't notice how flushed I was getting and before I knew it my straw hit bottom.

Now, in retrospect that may not have been the best drink choice since, like many girls I know, alcohol compounds my horny factor by quite a bit. Add that to the fact that I had only managed to rub one out once early that morning before work, and by the time I drained my drink I was positively squirming. I could literally feel the slick lubrication between my thighs and butt. Thank God I'd worn a skirt or I'm sure I would have had a wet spot.

I must have given something away, or maybe she could smell it, but she paused for a moment and gave me a quizzical look and asked if I was ok. Maybe it was the alcohol, or my current mood, but I only paused a second before I confessed everything, the ex boyfriend, the horniness, masturbation, everything.

After I'd babbled on for several minutes I suddenly realized what I was saying and sort of trailed off. I half expected her to grab her drink and run for it, but to her credit she stood there leaning against the bar with an amused little smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. Once I was silent for a few moments chewing on my straw and she realized I wasn't going to continue she turned back toward the bar, took a long pull of her drink, smiled and said, 'I know exactly what you're talking about!'

I could have cum right there. The air was absolutely crackling with sexual energy as she turned to look at me again with a sensual look in her eye peeping out from under long perfectly curled eyelashes.

I had to get out of there. I was this close to jumping this woman right there on the bar. I'd never seriously considered being with a woman before, but for some reason I was about ready to devour this one.

I made some excuse and headed for the bathroom, praying to God that it would be empty. I could be very quick when I needed to be, but I can't be totally silent. Unfortunately there was a short line. I stood there squeezing my thighs together literally feeling my pussy drip down my legs, my panties already sodden and spilling over.

When I got to the stall I had a quick pee and mopped up as best I could. I was near certain everyone could smell me so I made a quick exit.

On my way out the door, I ran nearly headlong into my brown haired goddess. What I did next is probably the most depraved thing I've ever done in my life.

Without even thinking, I grabbed her by the wrist and, without a word, dragged her out the back door of the bar into the alley way. At first she resisted, but when she saw were heading for the back door she stopped trying to free herself and came along willingly enough. I took that as an open invitation and as soon as the door closed behind us I threw her up against the wall and stuck my tongue in her mouth. I was groping her all over like a sixteen year old boy at his first drive-in.

The next few minutes all kind of blur together. We must have moved further down the alley way a because I suddenly realized we were in a doorway and thus relatively hidden. Her jacket and blouse was undone, her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and her panties pulled down just below her pussy. I had two fingers buried in her and three in me.

I remember her moaning into my ear. She grabbed my wrist as if she were going to pull my hand away, but my fingers were insistent and it really didn't seem like she was putting that much effort into making me stop. Soon I realized that she was pulling on my wrist, urging my fingers deeper.

Suddenly she gasped hard and clamped her legs shut around my hand holding me firmly in place. That got my attention. I stopped my movements and looked her in the eye. Her hair was disheveled, her face flushed and sweaty and there were tears in her eyes. She stood there gasping for breath for several seconds. I asked her if she came, but she shook her head no.

'I can't,' she said.

'Why not?' I asked trying to playfully wiggle my fingers still clamped in her pussy. But she just clamped her thighs together tighter, practically crushing my hand, and gave me a desperate pleading look.

She took several deep breaths, and I saw another tear run down her cheek. I suddenly realized that I'd pretty much dragged a perfect stranger into an alley behind a bar and raped her. I was overcome with guilt and shame.

'I'm so sorry.' I said. I wanted to say something else, but I couldn't find the words. I started to pull my hand out from between her legs, but she still had my wrist in a death grip with her hand and her thighs felt like they were going to break my fingers.

'Please! Don't move!' she whispered desperately.

'What's the matter?' I asked.

'I'm...so close...but if I cum...I'll get really wet. If you move I don't think I can hold back. Just wait a moment and I'll get it under control.'

Now, I can be pretty sexually aggressive when I want to be, as this story demonstrates. I'm not a slut, but I'm not above dragging a boyfriend into a public bathroom for a quickie. And yes, I admit to instigating a one night stand or two. I don't usually sit around waiting for the things I want to come to me. I go out and get them. For some reason, in spite of the guilt and shame, and the fact that we were in a dirty alley behind a bar, and it probably meant getting peed on, which was not a fetish of mine at all, something about the having this vulnerable, desperate, beautiful woman totally at my mercy was the biggest turn on ever. And I was going to make her cum. The next thing I did was down right dubious.

I showed her my best look of concern, leaned in and gently kissed her on the lips. I felt her thighs relax just a bit, but that was all I needed. I pressed the heel of my palm hard against her clit and jammed my fingers as deep as I could into her pussy, wiggling them against her g-spot. I felt her tense, trying to stop me, but I could tell by the way she was gripping my fingers with her pussy that it was already too late. She squeezed her thighs together so tight I thought for sure she would break my hand, but I felt a sudden squirt on my palm. She stood there for another second or two trying desperately to maintain control, but we both knew it was a losing battle. I felt more trickle down my wrist and run down her thigh.

Finally she gave up. She relaxed everything and then suddenly exploded. She was cumming and wet all over the place. Because my hand was still between her legs it sprayed everywhere! She cried out like I was absolutely killing her. Her release was so intense that if she hadn't suddenly clung to me for dear life, she would have fallen to the filthy ground. Her orgasm set me off and it's a miracle I was able to stay on my feet and hold us both up. She just kept cumming. It seemed like it wouldn't stop. She was still moaning and thrashing in orgasm. She buried her head in my neck, crying and moaning and gasping for breath.

Finally, she started to calm down. Her breathing was ragged, and she was still twitching, but her legs had the strength to hold her up. My pussy was still contracting in after shocks and I felt that warm tingly glow that I always get after a good orgasm.

We were a mess! Basically from the waist down we were both drenched in cum. Much had splashed off my hand, so most of my top was soaked too. She was a sight to see. Her jacket and blouse still hung open. She was wearing her bra, but one of the cups was pulled down and her breasts were sweaty and heaving. Her face was red and covered in sweat, and what was left of her make up was smeared, her cheeks stained with running mascara. Her hair was plastered to her forehead in front with perspiration and looked like it had been attacked by a wild animal everywhere else. She just kept whispering, 'I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry...'

I had such a strange mix of emotion in that moment. Part of me was so horrified and disgusted with myself and the situation. I felt so guilty for using this woman and taking advantage of her like that, but at the same time I had this strange sense of satisfaction and pride. I imagine it must be similar to what a conquering warrior must feel like after a victorious battle. I had completely and totally f*cked this woman into submission. I had taken control and totally possessed her. At the same time I both pitied her and envied her. On the one hand she looked so pathetic and degraded standing there in the alley with her top open and her skirt still bunched up around her waste, her panties half way down her thighs and soaked. But on the other hand I knew that I'd never had an orgasm as intense as the one she just had, nor was I likely to. I had f*cked her the way I had always wanted someone to f*ck me, and she got it good! In that moment I wished that I was her. A nasty, disgusting, degraded, half naked mess in an alley, drenched in my own cum, but still riding the aftershocks of the most intense physical, sexual experience a human being can have. Completely and totally F*CKED!

She finally leaned back against the wall and started to pull herself together. She touched her panties to pull them up, realized they were soaked, and slid them down instead. Once they passed her knees they simply slid to the ground and landed with a wet plop around her feet. She stepped out of them and adjusted her skirt back to the proper place. Thankfully it was navy blue and didn't show how wet it was too much. I asked her if she was ok and she nodded meekly as her shaking hands tried to manage the tiny buttons of her blouse. She dug through her jacket pocket and found a tissue which she used to wipe her eyes, nose and cheeks. She tried to wipe off her thighs, but the already wet tissue disintegrated. She dropped it to the ground next to her panties.

I asked her again if she was ok. She gave me a week smile and tried to apologize again. The way she looked at me I was sure I didn't look much better than she did. My light colored shirt and skirt showed stains clearly and stuck to my body in strange and uncomfortable ways. I told her it was ok as I dabbed at my sweaty face with the corner of my sleeve. We both laughed a little which broke the uncomfortable tension. Fortunately, our purses, which had been dumped in the corner of the doorway, seemed to have escaped any damage. We collected our things the best we could and stood there in awkward silence sort of smiling and giggling to each other.

She offered to have my outfit dry cleaned, but I declined noting that it was mostly my fault anyway, which made her smile. We said our goodbyes and headed in opposite directions to go home and clean up. I was only a few paces down the ally before I heard her call out 'Thank you!' I turned around and gave her a smile and a wave. I go back to that moment a lot in my mind and wonder why I didn't say anything. I was so conflicted. One part of me wanted to go back and grab her and do it all over again, and another part of me just wanted to bolt down the alley and disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. Instead I just turned back and continued walking away down the alley back to my car.

The sight that greeted me in my bathroom mirror back at my apartment was horrific. I called my friends and made my excuses that I wouldn't be able to meet them, and peeled off my clothes and hopped in the shower. Standing under the water, I could still smell her cum and in no time I was vigorously strumming my clit. I came twice before I got out of the shower and once more after I dried off. I was so horny, but I felt so guilty. It was so disgusting and depraved, but for some reason that was what made it such a huge damn turn on. I filled the bathtub with hot water and detergent and left my clothes to soak.

I was so horny I couldn't sleep that night. I must have cum ten times between when I got in bed that night and when I got out of bed the next day. I resolved to never tell anybody about what I'd done, but for several weeks it really ate at me. I couldn't seem to get over it. I started drinking more and more, and my friends started to notice my wild erratic behavior. Every time I went out I was terrified that I would run into her, but I never did. Finally one of my best girlfriends confronted me. I broke down and told her everything. She was so understanding; skeptical and probably grossed out, but very kind. She reassured me that I wasn't a monster or a sexual predator. We stayed up till the wee hours of the morning talking about everything. We cried a lot, and in the morning we both confessed that we felt much better.

Over the next few weeks I got my life back together. I settled down and things got back to normal. I still got incredibly horny when I thought about my experience, and still had some feelings of guilt, but I was able to get past that. I still fantasize about it and sometimes expand the experience in my imagination; the more depraved the better, and never fail to have amazing orgasms. It has also opened my mind to the dark basement of my sexuality I never knew, or didn't believe existed. I find myself searching the web for bizarre porn sites and crazy fetish pics and videos. Even though I don't necessarily want that again, images and thoughts of women cumming and squirting, or especially losing control really get me hot. I've come to terms with the fact thinking about these kinds of things doesn't make me a bad person, and I've even embraced the depravity as a turn-on unto itself. The guilt remains, but I guess if I didn't have some guilt then I really would be a bad person for thinking some of the things I do.

The worst part of the whole experience, however, as I look back on it is I never even knew her name!