You return to your table

You and Claire had back to your table. Tara and Ben must have had their fill of dancing. They're back at the table, just getting started on yet another pitcher.

"Hey, there you are," Ben exclaims as you take your seats. "I didn't think you'd leave without saying goodbye."

"I had to go to the ladies room," Claire says. "Henry came with me to keep me company."

"Such a gentleman," Ben comments with a knowing grin.

"I'm glad to see you two getting along," Tara replies, sliding the mostly-full pitcher to her friend.

Claire takes the pitcher and fills her cup. You hand her your empty cup and she starts pouring, but she pours a little too quickly and you end up with a tall glass of mostly foam.

"I hope I didn't give you too much head," she smirks.

"No such thing," you reply.

"Just be more careful next time," Tara says as you quietly enjoy your and Claire's private joke.

The rest of the evening passes more or less uneventfully. You end up staying with Ben, Tara and Claire until closing time. None of you are in any condition to drive home. Ben calls a cab for he and Tara. Tara asks if Claire would like to join them for the ride: apparently she lives not far from their apartment. Claire looks at you expectantly. Ben smiles.

"I'll make sure she's looked after," you volunteer. "It's the least I can do for a new friend who's new in town."

"I'm not that new," Claire protests. "But I'd be happy for the company."

"See," says Ben, putting his beefy arm around his much-shorter girlfriend. "I told you Henry is always the perfect gentleman."

"I never said he wasn't," Tara answers.

Their cab arrives, and Ben makes a big show of being "gentlemanly" and getting the door for Tara. With an exaggerated flourish, he gestures his lady into the car.

"Have a good night, you two!" your friends call out as their cab drives away.

You and Claire now stand outside of Murphy's Pub, without a whole lot of people around. Most of the patrons have already started their trek home.

"I'll call us a cab," you start to say.

The words scarcely have left your lips when your thick, red-haired companion has all but jumped on top of you, grabbing you tightly and forcing her tongue into your mouth. It's late, and she tastes faintly of old beer and fried food. Under normal circumstances it might be a little unpleasant, but you imagined that you probably taste the same way. You kiss her back, one hand reaching down to grope her ample posterior while your other hits the call button on your phone. You only break Claire's embrace when the call connects. As you talk with the taxi dispatcher, Claire continues to kiss you on the cheek, on the neck, on anywhere she can without making too much of an interruption on your conversation. As you hang up the phone, she is grabbing and squeezing at your package through your pants.

Some of the other patrons in the street are staring. You figure you must look like quite a pair: her in her heavy metal, "girl from the indie music store" uniform and you still in your office clothes. You don't really care what they think, though. They're all just drunks. Then again, at this point in time so are you. And so is she. You're just a couple of really horny drunks being stared at and judged by a bunch of jealous drunks.

A short time later your cab arrives. You're about to ask Claire where she'd like to be taken when she reminds you that you told your friends you'd "look after" her tonight. You give the driver your address even as she continues to to kiss, grope and fondle, an **** that doesn't end until you've reached your building. When you arrive you tip the driver generously - he just had to put up with you two full-on making out in the back of his car for the whole drive. At least, you hope you tipped generously - your math skills might leave something to be desired at 2:00 AM after far too many beers.

As you and Claire climb the few flights of stairs to your apartment, you think to yourself that there are two things wrong with this building: the lousy hot water heater, and the lack of an elevator for when you come home drunk and horny. When you finally reach your floor, you fumble with your keys. Good thing I thought to clean up earlier, you think. In her current state, you don't think Claire would really mind coming in and fucking you in a filthy apartment. You could live in a cave for all she'd care right now. Still, you'd rather make a good impression.

You start to get the idea that you aren't opening the door fast enough for Claire's liking. She grabs you from behind and starts grinding her hips against you, dry-humping you in an exaggerated fashion. You'd better get that door open so you can get inside and start doing that for real! Finally, on the fourth or fifth try you manage to get the key in the lock. You think to yourself that you hope that isn't an omen of things to come and lead the curvaceous, thick woman into your apartment.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask. "I have coffee, a few beers, and maybe some sports drinks in the kitchen."

Claire declines. You were mostly trying to be polite anyway. You have a feeling that the only thing she wants tonight isn't in the kitchen. It's in your pants. Without giving her much of a tour, you lead her to the bedroom. You haven't been in the apartment for five minutes when she's pulled off her metal shirt and tossed it onto the floor. In the dim lighting, you take a good look at the woman who blew you in the men's room of Murphy's, the woman you're about to fuck.

Her smooth, pale skin is quite alluring in the nearly-dark bedroom, a contrast to her short, bright red hair and the tight, dark jeans she's still wearing. Her breasts are concealed by a black, lacy bra. You watch as she unhooks it and drops it into a pile with her discarded t-shirt. Here tits aren't as large as you would normally expect on a woman with her general thickness and curves, but each is still a decent-sized handful. Her wide, dark nipples further stand out against her white skin. You note that she does have a slight belly, and while that isn't normally something you're into, you have an entire evening's experience telling you that you're incredibly attracted to her just the same.

"Why are you still dressed?" she breaths, almost with a sense of desperation in her voice.

She comes over to you and more or less tears your shirt off and rips open your pants. She pushes you onto the bed, and you look up at her as she peels off her skin-tight jeans, then slides her dark panties to the floor. You regard her with intense interest and lust as she climbs onto the bed, wishing you could have been behind her to get a good look at her ample, naked ass. You're a little surprised that she has no tattoos, definitely not what you were expected from a woman who shows up on a blind date in a metal shirt and regales a man she's trying to seduce with stories of her favorite metal bands. Her pussy is completely shaved bare. You briefly entertain a thought about what her natural hair color might be.

"I really want you to fuck me," she whispers in your ear as she slides next to you and starts aggressively stroking you to full erectness. "It's been a while. I need this."

"Don't worry, I can be gentle," you say.

"Oh you better fucking not!" she exclaims, rising to her knees and straddling your legs. "I said I want you to fuck me, and I meant it!"

She leans down and starts sucking you again, not with the intensity or the motivation she had at the bar, but as she licks, sucks and caresses your member, you think to yourself how absurd it was that earlier you told Ben you weren't interested in anything tonight. Eventually she pulls your dick out of her mouth and rises to her knees again, still straddling you.

"So, Mr. ..." she trails off as she realizes she doesn't actually know your last name. "So, Henry, can I count on you to fuck me? To really fuck me?"

She idly caresses her medium-sized breasts while she waits for your reaction, pinching each nipple before moving one of her hands down to her bald pussy and giving it a light stroking.

"Bend over," you say, rising from your position. "and I think I can do just that, since you asked so nicely."

Claire does as commanded. She moves to the middle of the bed and gets down on all fours. You get behind her and finally get a good look at her massive ass. Normally you prefer a tighter, more toned behind. Even when you go for a curvy girl, you'd usually prefer someone in better general physical shape than Claire. However, if the unbelievable erectness of your cock was any indication, you might have to reevaluate your taste in women. Claire's ass was absolutely fantastic. You definitely had to call it a "missed opportunity" that you weren't ogling it all night, and that you didn't give it more gropes, slaps or squeezes earlier.

You reach down and grab her cheeks, one hand on each, and spread them, getting a good look at her tight-looking, pinkish-brown asshole. Your mind wanders to how amazing it would feel to slide your cock right in there, her sphincter clenching down on your member as you plow into her pillowy buttocks. You aren't sure if anal is something Claire is into, though, and you really weren't in the mood to start a game of 20 questions while you had a naked woman in your bed wiggling her ass at you like she was in heat.

"Don't tease me," Claire whines as you again fondle her slit from behind "Just put it in already. I've been waiting for this all night!"

You gently prod her opening with the head of your member. She is incredibly wet. If you looked, you'd probably see her juices were probably dribbling down her leg. You're definitely going to need to wash these sheets this weekend.

"Henry," Claire rasps, pleading, an unbearable sense of lust in her voice. "My pussy calls to you. Just fuck me!"

Something she said really speaks to you, and you're happy to oblige. You shift forward and shove the full length of your rod into her hole in one thrust. She grunts with appreciation and pleasure. You do too. Her insides are warm, wet, and soft. It hasn't been so long for you that you'd forget the feeling of a nice, warm vagina, but you might have forgotten how good it feels. You slide out a bit and trust in once more. Your thighs slap against her meaty ass.

The only sounds in the room are the squish-squish-squish of your cock sliding in and out of an absurdly wet pussy, the clap of her ass cheeks every time you thrust in, and the moans and grunts of pleasure coming from both of your mouths. Every now and then, Claire punctuates her moans with a, "Yeah" or a "Fuck me harder", but most of the time she's too occupied by the aggressive thrashing you're giving her pussy to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. You keep one hand on her ample, curvy hips while your other strokes, grips and squeezes her massive buttocks. Every now and then your hand slips a little and you end up lightly stroking her sweet, tight asshole.

"You can put a finger in," Clair moans as you continue to thrust into her.

You lick your index finger for a little lube and slide it into her other hole. She moans appreciatively.

"Maybe get another one in there too," she breathes. "I really want to feel you. Make me feel like a queen."

You're not sure that anal fingering and monarchy are two things that necessarily go together, but who are you to judge hot, drunken dirty talk? You're happy to oblige, and soon you have another finger in her ass. You wiggle and move your hand in time with your thrusts, as if you were fucking both of her holes at once. You have a momentary lament that you might have been able to have put your cock in there instead if you had asked, but at this point in time, any thoughts of anal sex aside, you were pretty happy to be in Claire's moist, hot, welcoming pussy.

"Can you cum for me?" Claire asks, nearly pleading, begging for your seed.

You realize that, in your haste to start tonight's events, neither you nor Claire thought to equip you with a condom. The rational part of your brain said that cumming inside of a woman you just met, who didn't even know your last name, and whose natural hair color you didn't even know, was probably a poor decision. However, that part of your mind was not the one in control right now. You were thinking with a different head entirely, and that one was screaming, "Oh yeah, fill her up!".

"You can cum in me, if you want to," Claire pleads, as if reading your mind. "This queen needs her king. Cum for me and be my king!"

A sober version of yourself might have thought that last sentence implied a bit of clinginess you weren't sure you wanted. However, in that moment, something about what she said and the way she said it just felt right. Familiar, even, as if you had heard it before, even though you and Claire had never met prior to tonight.

The sound of this woman moaning in pleasure at having you fuck her pussy while fingering her ass, the thought of her literally begging you to fill her with your seed, and the sight of her soft, quivering ass bouncing against you isall you need to finally set you over the limit. With a growl of intense pleasure you unload into Claire for the second time in one night, this time in her pussy. And as you continue to stretch her anus with your fingers, she calls out with an orgasm of her own. She was a lot louder than you expected; hopefully the neighbors don't complain.

With a final thrust you unload one last spurt of semen into your companion. You pull out, then you both collapse on the bed, panting. A line of sweat drips down your forehead after the intense fucking you just gave her.

"That's just what I needed," Claire purrs as she embraces you.

To your surprise, she actually thanks you for fucking her - after what you just went through, you feel like you should be thanking her! After who-knows-how-long of an intense workout, without much further discussion you both descend into the kind of deep, content, satisfied sleep one only gets after drinking too much then fucking like a thing possessed.