Off Track Fucking
written by:
swampvenus

Fighting again. I drove alone to the restaurant where I left my credit card; I've never done that before, and that was even before we started for the day.

I drove home from the fighting, crying like so many times before. I was angry and tired and depressed. So low I felt like I could see my own death years ahead in some way. And then, sitting at my computer and trying to buy an airline ticket, I noticed that my credit card was missing.

Godfuckingdammit! We had already exchanged the usual e mails, although I wasn't up to it today. That's how he does things, he insists on e mailing when fighting and I hate it. Actually I hate the whole thing. Anyway, we had e mailed each other, and I sent mine feeling as though I was choking on brackish water, a futile exercise.

Now I e mailed again, thinking I left it on his desk or on the counter at his house. He replied sourly and suggested I simply call the restaurant as he "looked everywhere." (You should know that it is commonplace for him to leave a credit card behind, so for him it probably seemed like a stupid request from me, asking him to look for it.) Well, I couldn't help but be nervous! Excuse the hell out of me. I called.

A woman answered the phone. "You know what, hon, let me get the manager. Hold on." I heard the usual mix of semi-drunken blah blah blah of the sports bar/restaurant. Bad music of the 70s and 80s blared into the phone. I remembered that I heard Air Supply, INXS, REO Speedwagon, 38 Special, and a host of other horrors at lunch as Def Leppard assaulted my ears as I waited on the line.

A man picked up the phone. "Hello, ma'am?"

"Hi, it's me, the idiot who thinks she left her card there."

I could hear him smile. He confirmed, "No, it's not that dumb, it happens to the best of us. Tell me your name again?"

I told him. "Yeah, I have it right here. I'm going to put it back in the safe in my office. Just come in whenever you want. Will you be here tonight?"

"Oh yeah," I responded, "I'll be there soon."

I sure as shit didn't feel like going, and I looked and felt like hell, eyes puffy from crying and wearing a slip dress from Old Navy that tended to pass for a nightie. Whatever! I had worn it out for lunch with Mark that day and I could wear it just to pick up my card, too. It wasn't a fucking beauty contest.

The manager said, "Good. Just ask for Howard."

"Okay, thanks very much," I said, and hung up my phone.

I sighed and clunked my head down on the desk. What a dumbass. Now not only was I having a terrible day and night, but I had to go out on a Saturday night looking like ass to pick up my stupid credit card. Suck it up, stupid, and get it done.

I picked up my keys and purse. The cat looked at me inquisitively, surprised to see me leaving the house at all—which should tell you something (something kind of pitiful).

I peeled out of the driveway and called my friend Lisa who lives out of town since I owed her one back.

I was surprised to learn that she dumped her boy because he was screwing some other woman. She'd had to get tested for every STD known to man, and the whole thing really sucked. So as usual she had been able to dump him without even looking back. I really envied that, and I sensed her telling me this factoid with a personal message attached: learn to do this, Victoria.

I don't know why, but somehow when I met Mark, I lost the ability to see a loser as a speed bump in the road. Not that Mark is a loser, by the way; I just mean that I can no longer escape a bad situation without looking back like so many of my friends can. I used to be able to do that. I'm not sure what happened.

Mark is no loser; in fact he's a terrific man. But we're just no good together. We fight too much, and when we do, which is a lot, it's terrible. I think part of what keeps us together is stupid, but tried and true...it's just sex. For whatever reasons, we are uncontrollably attracted to each other. I know that probably sounds great, but believe me, it sucks ass, literally and figuratively.

My friends have been watching us and waiting for me to "come back" to my normal self for years, and I just can't. And honestly, I think I am at the mercy of my body. You hear people say that they're joined at the hip or joined at the brain; I'm pretty sure Mark and I are joined at the cock and cunt.

From the time we first met, we always liked each other, just got along really well. And inevitably, we ended up on someone's sofa with my head in his lap, sucking his cock like I might stop breathing if I didn't, and there was no going back for either one of us. I don't know how many times or places I ended up bent over some object where we could easily be discovered with his cock shoved inside me, pumping furiously, but I never got tired of it and each time was new to me.

So I never went back to normal. And I drove to the restaurant that night and listened to Lisa, and commiserated. She asked me how things were going, and I just said, "Shitty." She didn't say much about that. She said we needed to get together and I said, "I know."

She told me she was about to start using a dating service that would bring her all over the state; since we live about 150 miles apart, this was great, albeit humorous, news. I asked her all about it, and couldn't help but insist that she update me as any development occurred. I thought to myself, "Well, you laugh, but you're the one dying to watch, stupid!"

I ended up standing outside the restaurant waiting for Lisa to wind up her story. It used to be me who had the fabulously interesting life if you had to choose between the two of us, but now it was certainly her. That's good; it's better to take turns. And anyway, I feel too exhausted as a person to be interesting anymore. Still, it's a sad thing to be so lifeless.

Lisa said, "You know, dollface, I miss you."

"I miss you too. I need to see your face soon," I said.

"You're right," she said, "But that's not what I meant."

I said, "Oh."

We sat there for a minute as if we were together in that parking lot. The evening was nice, the perfect temperature for me to be outside in my nightie and sandals. The restaurant/bar had misters on. They were working overtime and the concrete beneath them was shiny and wet. Led Zeppelin blared into the night. A man was outside smoking.

Lisa said gently, "So let's get together soon, okay?"

"Yeah," I said, "I want to. You call me if you're coming up here, and e mail me your work schedule so I can plan to come down, okay?"

"Yep," she said. "Okay, doll, I gotta go so I don't crash. I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered. "Bye."

"Bye."

I looked at the restaurant, alone again. It was filled with people, mostly men; they did off track betting there and races had been going on all day, as well as football games.

The waitress who had waited on us for lunch briskly stepped out of the door. She was very tall and very thin, young and rather pretty. She stepped onto the slick pavement beneath the misters, and as she did my gut signaled me, but too late. Her feet escaped from beneath her and her long legs flew out in front of her. She fell, landing on her left hip.

I ran towards her; she wasn't getting up and her face was jagged with pain. The man smoking took a defensive posture as if he hoped to avoid involvement. I looked at him icily. "Go inside and tell someone!" I snapped. He trudged inside resentfully, dropping the remainder of his cigarette.

I crouched next to her. "Hey," I said. I didn't ask if she was okay; she was clearly in pain. "I'm Vikki," I said, foolishly trying to distract her. "I'll make sure someone helps you. I saw the whole thing. Those things are on way too high!" I held her so she could lean on me if she wanted to.

Tearfully she leaned into me with one arm and grabbed her hip with the other. "Ohhh," she groaned. "That's so bad!"

"I hope you drive an automatic," I joked nervously, and she finally cracked a smile.

I looked inside and no one was coming. I was seeing red! That asshole just went inside!

Finally, I saw a busy-looking, older man in nice clothes carrying silverware on the patio. A ha! I yelled at him, "Hey! HELP!"

He looked over and his eyes grew wide. He rushed over to us.

She looked up at him and said, "Howard, I slipped because of the misters!"

Howard, I thought. He had a pleasant face although it was lined with worry at the moment. He was about forty years old, I guessed, although I'm world's most terrible age-guesser. He was a light-skinned black man in khaki slacks and a polo type shirt. Somehow he managed to keep his clothes free of even a speck of food or other debris, and as someone who worked in restaurants and bars for years and always came home caked in grease, I was amazed at that. I thought he must be a meticulous personality.

Kneeling next to her, he stated, "I'm going to call an ambulance. I don't want to move you, although I hate to have you out here."

Her eyes grew wide and then she rolled them. "Ugh, no! I don't want to go to the ER! It just hurts is all. I just need to go to the doctor on Monday, I'm going to really be stiff and sore."

"Carrie," he started out in a kind but slightly lecturing tone, "How do you know nothing is broken or seriously injured? You can even bruise a bone, you know. I'm worried about you and I have a duty to the restaurant, too."

"Honestly," she told him, "I would tell you. I can move it, look."

Using her arm and hands she began to move her leg gingerly. Finally, we helped her up and into her car. I waved goodbye; what an odd night.

I looked at Howard. I liked him.

"Thanks for your help," he said.

I smiled. "Thanks for being a good manager. And speaking of that, I'm the jackass who left her credit card here at lunch."

He couldn't help but laugh. "It's not so dumb. Vikki, right?"

"That's right," I said.

"Come on in," he said, and I followed him back in, stepping carefully over the slick strip under the misters.

"Have a seat; I'll go get it from my office," said Howard.

The place was filled with guys, still betting their hearts out. I never really understood the lure of off track betting, but hey, who am I to judge. I sat at the end of the bar, trying to ignore the stares I was garnering in my slip dress. It was a good thing it was off track betting and not strip poker, because I'd be at a distinct disadvantage wearing nothing but the slip and sandals.

At the end of a long summer I couldn't bring myself to wear anything else, too much effort to put on more clothes, especially when the fighting between Mark and me was so intense. There wasn't even as much fucking to level out the fighting, and that was even worse. At least when I was getting plenty of cock I was running on all eight cylinders; just like getting a regular tune up or a full tank. I guess I need a regular helping of cum to feel up to life.

Sitting there thinking about it at the bar made me wet in spite of myself. I made a little wet spot on my dress, but it was dark. I glanced down to see my nipples poking through the fabric of my dress.

Howard came back, my credit card in hand. He sat down next to me. "Here you go, ‘Victoria M. Jackson.' Isn't that the name of that woman who was on Saturday Night Live?"

I smiled at him. "I don't know what her middle initial was, but yeah. See any resemblance, physical or otherwise?" I asked jokingly. There isn't any. Not only am I not dingy in any way (despite the credit card incident; you'll have to just trust me on this one), but I don't look a thing like her. I am tall and thin, with olive skin and long, nearly black hair. I have hazel eyes and sharp, angular features. She had a voluptuous figure, and while I have nice, firm tits, they're not huge like that. Mine are just very firm and round, not so huge.

I was surprised to see him look at me head to toe as if making a serious appraisal before carefully answering. "No resemblance that I can discern, no."

I could see the rest of the bar behind Howard. Many of the men were watching us curiously. It was like I had wandered into a men's club; where the hell were all of the women?

"Howard," I ventured, "Where are all the ladies tonight?"

"Off track betting tends to attract only the men. I'm not sure why," he answered. "But you're here now, right? Stay and have a drink on the house, will you? This all men thing is making me look bad, I think. I don't want you going home and telling everyone you know that we don't welcome women here or something."

I laughed. Leaning on the bar towards him I said, "If you want me to have a drink with you, just let me know."

Howard got up and walked around the bar. He stood across from me behind the bar. "Have a drink with me."

"Okay," I said. "I'll take an Old Fashioned. An Old Fashioned for an old fashioned sort of gal."

"Right," he said, smiling.

He certainly was meticulous; I was right about that. Each movement was efficient. I could picture him positioning my body, bending me over against the bar, just so. He wouldn't have to move me or do it twice; he would have me at just the right angle to fuck me raw the first time. All he was doing was grinding the orange slice, cherry, sugar and bitters in the bottom of a tumbler, but I couldn't help but feel the rim of the bar against my pelvis and his careful and deliberate hands moving my ass and hips just so.

"You're a good bartender," I managed, but my tone made him look up. I'm not so good at hiding what's on my mind.

He slid the drink to me and said, "I'll be back in a minute. I have to check on the patio."

As soon as he walked away, one of the men who had been watching us walked over to me.

"Hi, we have a quick question for you, no bullshit here, just an honest question," he said.

Somewhat nonplussed, I decided to go with the flow. "Okay, shoot."

"Just to settle a bet...are you wearing underwear?"

I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Nope."

"HA!" he yelled triumphantly. "No!" he hollered to the group. Some of them cheered, others gestured and, grumbling, handed money over to their friends.

"That's funny!" I said. I kind of liked it. I couldn't tell you why, but the thought of all of them betting on me made me even hornier. "Do I get a cut afterwards or what?"

He grinned and threw me a twenty.

"You bet that much, eh? Wow!" I remarked.

I saw Howard outside. I shifted on my stool. I really wanted him to fuck me; I needed it. And these men watching me got me wet.

"You going to be betting awhile longer?" I asked.

"Why?" the man asked, beer on his breath.

I finished the drink, buzzed from swallowing it down so fast. Howard made a strong one for courage, I think, but it was courage I didn't need to supplement.

"Because," I said, moving the beads of condensation on the bar around with my finger, "I think you guys will have a great bet on what Howard is going to do to me in that back office when we go back there. We're going to go back there as soon as he gets back here; I'm going to tell him something to make him take me in there. Don't you all have ideas about what he'll do to me? It's a great bet, don't you think?"

The guy's jaw dropped and I could see his dick through his pants. Maybe I'd get to him later, but I doubted it; it was Howard I was after.

And speaking of Howard, there he was. He started back towards me, and the guy stumbled back to the group. Howard sat back on the same stool facing me, and behind him I could see the frenzy as the guy told the rest of the betters about the new game to bet on. They looked over at us and huddled.

Howard smiled at me. "You finished your drink."

"Thanks, it was just right," I said. "And now I wonder if you'll take me into your office and fuck me."

Now, Howard was no dummy, and he knew that he was likely to get some. But he was definitely surprised by that; he looked like he might fall off his barstool. He sat there for a minute with his mouth open.

"Well," I said, "I guess you don't have to if that's how you feel..." I slowly moved one foot to the floor as if I might leave.

"No! I mean, I'm just..." he grabbed my arm and it felt like it was nailed to the bar. "Dammit, you know better, you just did that on purpose to shock me. Let's go in the back, Victoria."

He got up and I followed him. I turned to look at the betters. I saw one of them writing furiously on the white board; this struck me as intensely amusing. The rest of them were watching, and you could tell they would do about anything for a front row seat. Well, too bad; unless there was a peephole they'd have to rely on me to tell them who won.

My cell phone buzzed. I looked at the name. It was Mark, of course. With an evil smile, I picked up the call so he could hear and placed it back in my pocket.

We entered the tiny office. He shut the door and leaned me against it.

"You like to talk, Victoria, or listen?" he asked me.

My voice husky from wanting his cock in me, I answered, "I like to listen, I want to hear you talk to me."

"Good," he said, "Because that's what I like to do. I'm going to talk to you while I do you, Victoria. Unbutton the front of that thing. I want to see your body. It's getting me so hot."

I unbuttoned my slip dress to reveal my tits to him, and my belly. I lifted up the bottom of the slip since it didn't unbutton all the way; this way he could see my pretty pussy which I always shave clean. I slid my fingers in my wetness so he could see what I mess I was, and spread myself open a little so he could see how pink I had gotten.

"Mmmm. Very nice, Victoria. Put your finger in your pussy and then put it in your mouth." I did as I was told. "How do you taste, little girl?"

"I taste good," I answered. "Do you want to taste me?"

I got my answer when he dropped to his knees and tasted me himself. I gasped and pushed my hips into his face, head spinning, buzzing on my drink which was more like three. His tongue dug deep into me, as if he was trying to make sure all of my juice was gone, but it was a losing battle because each stroke of his tongue got me wetter. He sucked on my clit and I bumped up against his face rhythmically. His hands dug into my ass.

I wanted to beg Howard to fuck me, but I didn't want to unfairly influence the odds, so I just moaned and humped his face while he ate my pussy.

He stood up and pulled me away from the door.

"Now, Victoria, I'm going to fuck you. You made my dick so hard. Feel it." He pulled my hands onto his dick, which was straining his pants. He was hard as a rock, standing up in his khakis, and I wanted him out of there so badly.

I sank to my knees to unbuckle his belt. He stroked my hair as if I was his pet as I kneeled before him. "Are you going to take out my cock so we can play, little girl?" he asked.

I unzipped his fly and his cock poked out of the fly of his boxers. That was good enough for me. I immediately started sucking it, rolling the helmet around in my mouth, covering my teeth with my lips and blowing him as firmly as I could.

"Oh, you like to suck cock, don't you, Victoria," he murmured, gripping my hair more tightly now. "Take my cock deeper in your mouth now. That's it. I want you to force my cock all the way in. You suck me harder, baby. Yeah."

I had his cock deep in my throat now, and he was fucking me hard. He was leaking precum in my mouth, but I couldn't let that distract me; I had to concentrate to take him so deep. Finally he pulled his cock out of my mouth.

"No," he said, "You're not swallowing my cum right now. It's going inside your pussy. I'm going to fuck your pussy right now, Victoria. Your little cunt has been waiting for me all night, hasn't it?"

"Yes," I answered.

He lifted me onto his desk, facing him, legs spread wide. "You keep your legs spread, baby. I like you to look a little slutty right now. I like to see your pussy spread wide. Now, show me how you make yourself cum, show me how you get close, but don't go all the way, or else."

I started to rub my clit with the middle finger of my right hand, just second nature, not even thinking. I moved my left hand so I could fuck myself with my left middle finger. I could tell he liked watching me. And I loved it.

Maybe it was my imagination, but I also thought I could hear people outside the door. Were they out there trying to hear us? God, I didn't even mind. I liked it. And even Mark was listening unless he hung up. I guess the next best thing to being fucked by a bunch of people was having them watch or listen to you being fucked expertly by one guy.

Watching me play with myself Howard slowly stroked his cock, still hard as hell, and ready to fuck me. "I bet you sit and masturbate all night long, don't you, Victoria. I bet when you don't have anyone to fuck you, you look at internet porn and make yourself cum until you pass out. I can tell by watching you that it's your thing, baby. God, you look good."

Breathing heavily, I just said, "You're right."

He grabbed my hands away from my pussy and turned me so I was bent over his desk. He slammed his pelvis against my ass. His cock impaled me, sliding all the way into my pussy, almost hurting me, but feeling so good at the same time. I yelped and I was sure that half of the bar heard me. I know Mark did.

"You like that, Vikki?" he asked, panting. "You like that cock in your pussy?"

"Yeah, I like it, I want you to fuck me," I gasped. "Please don't stop now!"

And we were off to the races, so to speak. He rode me like he was my master, and I bucked like a champion. His cock slammed in and out of me, and it was just this kind of nice, hard fuck that I had been craving like a drug. I was making noises like an animal, I didn't know where they came from, but I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to.

"I'm going to cum up your pussy and all over your ass, Victoria," he groaned, "But you have to work for it, baby. Fuck me harder! You fuck me with your cunt! Back your ass up into me, pump me hard!"

I couldn't take it, he got me so hot like that. I fucked him furiously. I had never fucked like that before. I felt like I wouldn't be able to walk out of there. I felt his muscles shift and he moaned as he pumped harder and harder. I squeezed his cock as hard as I could with my pussy.

"Here it comes, baby, I have a huge load of cum for you, oh yeah. You're sucking it out of me with your pussy, and I'm going to shoot it up inside you and all over you!"

I felt him start to unload hot cum inside me, deep inside me. It felt so delicious spurting inside me, and that along with the constant pressure on my pussy and clit made me cum myself. Once I started, it was like falling down the rabbit hole. I could still hear him moaning and talking to me, but I couldn't really understand what he was saying. All I remember is my own body shuddering with waves of orgasm and him spurting cum over and over again, first inside me, and then all over my pussy, my ass, and even my back. Pulse after pulse, his entire body must have been full, because I was soaked.

I collapsed on his desk. After about a minute, I noticed something hurting my hip. My phone. I took it out. It was still off the hook. I hung it up.

Howard pulled my slip down over my ass. I sat down on the floor and turned to lean on the desk and face him. I smiled up at him and he smiled from ear to ear at me. He sat down on the chair, breathing deeply, and finally fastened his pants.

"Thank you for the drink," I joked. He laughed.

"Please, come by anytime, and I mean that," he said.

"Do me a favor," I said.

"Name it," he answered.

"Give me a five minute head start out of here," I grinned.

Puzzled and intrigued, he titled his head and said, "I've got to ask—why?"

"If you give it to me, I'll tell you later, promise," I pledged.

"Hmm. Okay," he said, handing me his card, "But don't forget. Actually, don't forget to call me anyway, okay?"

I stood up. "Okay," I smiled.

I buttoned my slip dress up. It stuck to me in places from the cum. I grabbed my purse and opened the door slowly. I heard some scrambling about outside. I waited a moment and then went out.

I strode out proudly, shutting the door behind me. The men stared at me; if there had been a record playing, it would have scratched off the groove just then. I made a beeline for the white board where the bets were, and sure enough, there we were. I picked up a red marker and let them know the finish:

ATE PUSSY: YES COCK SUCKING: YES CAME IN MOUTH: NO SWALLOWED CUM: NO (WILLING TO, BUT NO CHANCE TO) FUCKED PUSSY: YES MISSIONARY: NO DOGGY STYLE: NO GIRL ON TOP: NO BENT OVER: YES STANDING: NO OTHER: NO CAME IN PUSSY: YES UP THE ASS: NO (LIKE IT THOUGH) UP ASS FROM BEHIND: NO UP ASS/OTHER: NO CAME IN ASS: NO CAME ELSEWHERE: YES CLEANED OFF CUM: NO CONDOM: NO JERKED HIM OFF: NO HE JERKED OFF: YES SHE JERKED OFF: YES CUM IN HAIR: YES, A LITTLE GOING HOME TO HUSBAND OR BOYFRIEND: HAVE ONE BUT NO WAY

You should have heard it; the crowd went wild.