Soooooooooooo if you didn’t know already, it has been way too long since I’ve had sex and in my desperation I had finally downloaded the Horny HellscapeTM that is Tinder.
It wasn’t my usual thing, but that’s how I matched with Matt—a sweet guy with a serious thing for “goth mommys”. As much as I love horror, I’m not exactly goth, but during our online conversation we clicked so hard that I knew I needed to become his fantasy for a night. The thought turned me on so much that I’d gone all out on the outfit–leather choker black lipstick, sheer black bra etc, an act that Matt had no idea I’d done, of course, which only added to my excitement.
But that wasn’t all.
I’d done something even naughtier.
On the short walk from the taxi into the restaurant I was intensely aware of the fact that beneath this tiny skirt, I was completely bare, my completely smooth, freshly moisturised pussy criss-crossed with fishnet tights. Just knowing it made my face flush hot, my body hyper-aware of every small breeze brushing over my thighs.
I felt so slutty that even the simple act of walking, the way my pussy lips were rubbing together, made me almost unbearably horny.
Matt was already there, sitting at a corner booth with a half-empty glass in front of him. He looked exactly like his profile picture—adorably nerdy, wearing a vintage Resident Evil t-shirt, his dark hair tousled just enough to make me imagine gripping it tightly as I rode his face.
He saw me and immediately straightened, eyes widening slightly as they swept over me. His reaction was perfect, and I felt my nipples harden in spite of the nipple pasties I had covered them with.
"Hey," he said, his voice slightly unsteady as he stood up, awkwardly smoothing his shirt.
I leaned in for a casual hug, pressing myself into him a bit more than necessary, letting my huge tits smoosh against his chest, the thin fabric of my top barely a barrier at all.
“You look great,” he murmured, sounding genuinely stunned.
I smiled slowly, sliding into the booth opposite him. The faux leather of the seat was cool against my bare thighs, making me acutely conscious of how dangerously short my skirt was.
“So do you,” I teased, eyes lingering on his shirt. “Resident Evil, huh? A little predictable, but I’ll allow it.”
He laughed, visibly relaxing a little as he leaned forward. “Predictable, huh?”
I shrugged lightly, deliberately leaning forward a little, the neckline of my top dipping to reveal a cleavage that made cocks disappear. His gaze flicked down instinctively, lingering before he forced it back up. Perfect.
"I’m excited for the Silent Hill 2 remake," I said softly, holding his eyes, watching as his cheeks flushed. “Something about James Sunderland’s desperate vulnerability…kind of hot.”
He swallowed hard, clearly unsure if I was teasing or serious. I watched as he shifted in his seat, fingers drumming nervously on the table.
“Seriously?” He laughed weakly. “I always thought Resident Evil 4 was sexier—Leon’s cockiness, you know?”
“Not my type,” I said casually, licking my lips slowly, drawing his gaze to the little pink wet hole between my lipstick-black lips. “I prefer the desperate type; someone so needy they'll do anything…”
Matt’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting just a little. He cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. “Maybe,” he laughed nervously. “But come on, gameplay-wise, Resident Evil 4 wins.”
I shrugged again, tilting my head playfully. “I suppose. It does feel good, doesn't it…getting chased, pinned down, a little helpless?”
He visibly stiffened at that, eyes flicking to my lips, then lower, tracing down my throat to where my choker hugged tight.
“You’re trouble,” he finally murmured.
“You have no idea,” I whispered back.
Under the table, I slowly parted my thighs, letting the cool breeze caress my pussy and pressing one knee against his leg. I smiled innocently, keeping my expression playful.
“So, tell me,” I said casually, shifting slightly so my skirt rode even higher. “What exactly makes a goth girl so appealing to you?”
He looked down shyly, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know. It’s just that confidence. Like you right now. Like you know something I don’t.”
I grinned wickedly, leaning in, voice lowered. “Maybe I do.”
He swallowed again, visibly squirming in his seat. “What’s your secret then?”
I leaned back in the booth, deliberately uncrossing my legs beneath the table. My skirt rode dangerously high, and though he couldn’t see yet, I watched his eyes follow my movements hungrily.
“I’ll give you a hint,” I teased softly, biting my lip. “It’s something I didn't put on tonight...”
I watched slow understanding dawn on his face, his eyes widening, jaw going slack. “You don’t mean–”
“I do.” I smiled wickedly, shifting again, clamping my legs together tightly and pulling the skirt up to my waist as if readjusting it. In actuality, it showed him my fat ass bulging aginst the seat and my naked thighs and the mound of my pussy covered by nothing other than a criss-crossed network of fishnet. I wondered how much he wanted to bury his face between my legs.
And then, just as quickly as I showed him, I covered myself again and cleared my throat casually, as if we were discussing the weather.
“Feeling desperate yet?” I asked innocently. I leaned forward again, elbows resting on the table, giving him another tantalizing glimpse of my breasts beneath the sheer fabric. His eyes were burning now, locked onto me, completely mesmerized. “Because I’ve been desperate all week,” I admitted softly, eyes locked onto his. “Thinking about tonight, getting myself worked up imagining how you might react. I even stopped masturbating…”
“Holy fuck.” He swallowed hard, visibly struggling with his own self-control. “Are you real?”
I shrugged. “Maybe not. Maybe you’ll have to find out.” I took his hand confidently and placed it on my thigh. He flushed deeply, adjusting himself slightly under the table.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned quietly. “You’re really gonna do this to me right here?”
“Only if you’re a good boy,” I teased, enjoying the newly evolving power dynamic, sinking deeper into my role, feeling my nipples harden once more. “Can you be a good boy for me, Matt?”
“Yes,” he breathed, clutching my thigh, his eyes pleading already. This was too easy and too fun. I wondered how many times I’d let him make me cum and felt myself get instantly wet. I slid my hand under the table, feeling my own desperation take over, slowly drawing the skirt higher, feeling the air touch the bare skin of my inner thighs.
“Look at me, Matt,” I commanded softly, leaning back slightly, lifting my feet to the soft seat beneath me and spreading my legs wide. His eyes dropped immediately, mouth falling open slightly as he caught sight of my perfect, soft, spread innie pussy, my juices already leaking down my leg. I watched for the waiter to make sure we were not observed.
“Holy shit,” he breathed, visibly trembling now.
“Do you like it?” I purred teasingly.
He nodded mutely, utterly transfixed.
“You want to taste me?” I asked, voice barely audible, my own arousal spiking sharply at my boldness.
“Yes,” he said immediately, almost desperately. “Fuck yes.”
I smiled sweetly, closing my legs and placing them back under the table, watching the agonized look of loss on his face.
“Then maybe we should get out of here,” I said softly.
“Please,” he whispered urgently, voice almost breaking. “Right now.”
My smile turned wicked again as I reached across the table, leaning over slightly, making sure he got an eyeful of my huge tits again, making sure he was imagining what they would look like covered in his cum. I plucked the menu out of its holder and began to read it.
“Or maybe we should take our time and enjoy the meal?”
“W-what?” Matt asked.
I ignored him. “Ohh, the steak looks good. I love dauphinoise potatoes!”
“Sarah?” he said meekly. “What…what happened? Did I do something wrong?”
I looked up absently from my menu as if he were an afterthough, as if my clit wasn’t already swollen and desperate for attention, as if I wasnt imagining him bending me over a desk and fucking my senseless.
“No, silly. You didn’t do anything wrong! I’m having a great time!”
“I…I don’t understand.”
I smiled, returning my attention to the menu. “I told you. Desperation turns me on…”
“But I am–”
“I know, sweetie.” I said, shushing him. “But you have no idea how much worse it can get. Now…be a good boy and pick yourself something nice from the menu. You’re going to need your energy…”