I wanna fuck you!

“I wanna fuck you! I want to make you blush, I can probably break you in an hour”. You surprise yourself with your aggressive demeanor. She is unfazed, moves out of your hold and leads you to the bar saying "That's where you're wrong. I doubt you can keep up with me, it'd be you cumming all over the place.” She is one of those people that are never caught off guard.

You remain frozen standing at the bar as you feel her press herself against your back, her breasts billowing outward against you. "The only thing that can help you at this point is… this..." she whispers in your ear, and as she does, you feel her fingers slide into your trousers and curl around the base of your shaft.

As she continues speaking, her fingers tighten around you. "All you need is one... perfect... stroke." With that, her hand slowly, agonizingly gives your cock one long, firm stroke. And it was perfect. Like a musician expertly manipulating an instrument, this person's hand draws the cum from your balls. As her firm, feminine hand travels up your shaft, the cum follows it, traveling up your urethra, your cock swelling with want...and need. And finally, as her fingers reach the tip, and tickle that spot just under the head of your cock, she releases her fingers. And it was as if she removed a dam.

"Fuck!" you grunt, falling back into her as streams of cum begin firing from your cock. One squirt, two, three...and you keep cumming in your trousers. As you ride out this hard orgasm, she re-grips your shaft and begins to jack the cum out, each stroke rewarding her with more of your cum.

Finally, after a minute or so of cumming, the tension leaves your body and you begin to relax. The wet spot in your pants visible for all to see. She guides you to a seat where you sit down, catching your breath. You look up at this goddess of lust as she examines her hand. A little bit of cum coated her fingers, and she studies them more before looking down at you, looking almost disappointed at how completely she owned you.

“So sweetheart, what was it you wanted to say to me?"

The bar is silent. Everyone present witnessed your premature ejactulation. Your face turns into a crimson red. The shame of you cumming in your pants at what is supposed to be an event of sexual endurance is too much for you.

You weakly mumble an excuse for your inappropriate behaviour and leave the bar and the championship.