Respectable professional Danala gets a poor grade for her speaking and storytelling skills on stage. Angrily confronting the judge in a lonely back room he gives her a lesson she’ll remember for a long time.
Danala could not take her mind off the man sitting in front of the stage and the way he looked at her. She felt like a stripper and not who she actually was – the principal of a prestigious girls’ school in the wealthy distant suburbs.
There was something gritty about this downtown bar. It felt alive and dangerous in a way she’d not felt in a long time. Case in point the man who stared up at her. He was totally focused on her in a relaxed way that also showed he was perfectly at ease with himself. It wasn’t as though he was looking through her clothes, but her entire soul and analyzing her constituent parts so that he knew her better than she knew herself.
But in some ways that may be good, she thought. This was to be her night. It was a prestigious storytelling contest that was being live-streamed around the globe. She needed to win, not for the money, she already had that, but for the prestige that would allow her to do a TED talk, and boost her profile enough to get investors to build her own school.
All of the stories that night came from real life and Danela told her own. She had been born into poverty in Africa, her father dying at an early age, the result of a war manipulated by two far-off countries. However, things changed when she was 13, That’s when her mother met and married a philanthropist from New York who had been touring her village on a photoshoot for a charity organization.
Danala’s life suddenly changed to one of wealth and financial security Despite her comfortable surroundings, she was not going to be idle. She made the most out of her opportunities, getting an education, a PhD. and ruthlessly building a prestigious life for herself, being careful to maintain her respectability at all times. Her respectability was even evident in the men she dated, including a short-term marriage that had almost nothing in the way of passion.
And here she was now pouring her soul on the stage, talking about the two colonizing countries that killed her real father, who was then replaced with a white man who took her and her mother away from their original culture. Through hard work and strength of character, she survived her ordeal and become successful in the area of private education. She knew her upcoming business venture would be a success. The part she hadn’t said aloud, was that she needed to win the competition to accomplish it.
As she finished to respectable applause, Danala sat back down at her table in the corner of the bar, looking back at that man who had been staring at her. He was one of the judges, the only white man on the panel. She had read that he was a successful writer of novels and that one of them had been turned into a movie, though she had not seen it.
The organizer of the event, an elegant older lady named Denise who also ran a publishing company, had fawned over this man for most of the night, as had many of the participants. He was older than she was, but certainly not aged. He was respectably dressed, but there was something about him that suggested there was much more to him than simply respectability. His attractiveness and fascination were hard to describe. No, she thought, it was easy. It centered on one thing. His focus. She realized that now.
While being the center of his attention had been uncomfortable, it had also been hot. In fact, she could feel the wetness between her legs as she sat there looking at him. For a moment she had an image of him trapping her against the wall of the bar and kissing her passionately with those full lips of his. But now that his focus was on someone else, she felt jealous and incomplete somehow. Why was his attention so much like a drug?
The last speaker finished up and she watched the man and the two other judges put their scores into the tablets attached to their tables. She was sure she would win. Suddenly her phone buzzed, It was an email. All of the votes for all of the speakers had been tabulated. The winner would be announced momentarily, but she was able to see a copy of her own scoresheet. Disappointment and shock welled up inside her which was quickly replaced by anger. She’d had perfect scores from the two women of color on the panel, but as for the man who had undressed her with his eyes, his scores were noticeably lower.
The winner was being announced. It wasn’t Danala. She wasn’t even in the top three. Resentment and anger welled up inside her, as she sat and stared at the man who had just ruined her future. That arrogant, colonizing bastard, she thought. This was outrageous.
Excessive applause rained down on the winner, as Danala, lept from her chair and faced Denise, the organizer, pressing the scores on her phone into the lady’s face.
“What do you call this?” she said. “Look at those scores, perfect, absolutely perfect. If it wasn’t for the obvious bias of that one man, I would have won. You should immediately disqualify his score.”
The woman looked at her and said nothing, but simply shrugged and walked away. This made Danela even angrier. The organizer was biased too she thought, and obviously infatuated with that judge. Bias was everywhere.
Fuming, Danala was determined to get to her anger source. The man who had defamed her.
With the competition over, people were now moving about in the bar. Most were leaving but others were mingling. She was trying to find the man, which seemed near impossible in the crowd.
Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she noted the bright orange dress that hugged her curves but did so respectably. Of course, the dress clung a bit too closely and would show a visible line if she wore panties, so tonight she was wearing nothing underneath. Still looking for the judge, she strained her neck and looked over the room. He was nowhere in sight. She became aware again of how incredibly wet she was between her legs. Was it just sweat from the stress? She didn’t know but decided to find the washroom to clean herself up before it seeped through her dress.
The bathrooms were part of a dark maze of hallways in the basement of the building. When she cleaned up and exited a few moments later, she went the wrong way and suddenly found herself outside a grubby graffiti-filled room consisting of a couple of old couches pushed together, a table, a small chair, and a clothes rack. It was obviously a dressing room for the bands that would play at the bar on the weekend. At the moment its only occupant was the exact man she was looking for. He was putting a notepad into his battered briefcase.
Without thinking she ran into the room and slammed the door behind her.
“You! She said. “It’s time we had a word.”
Surprisingly, the man did not jump at the sound but simply looked back at her with the same focus as before. He was calm. She felt naked again. For a moment she noticed the faint thumping of the music which had replaced the speeches in the bar. They seemed to match her heart rate.
“You’ve come about your score haven’t you?” he asked.
“Yes. I don’t intend to let the bias of a man like you keep me from getting what I deserve.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be leaving here with exactly what you deserve”, He replied.
“I’ve had enough of people like you and your privilege,” she spat.
“Yes, I have my privileges but you also have yours – I’m not the independently wealthy one living in a quiet suburb. I live life by my witts in a small apartment downtown. I write novels about underdogs and social injustice because I’m compelled to, not because it makes me any money. It doesn’t. Those are my choices and I stick by them. I spend my time observing people, and how they act. What they think. You may feel yourself a success, but your story tonight was a failure. Your character was just too perfect and too respectable. Not realistic at all. Rigid, just like you are now.
He reached out and grabbed her arms.
“Your muscles are all tense, my dear you’re practically shaking. All your emotions are pent up inside you and coming out as anger. That’s what’s holding back in your writing. You can’t think straight until you let them out, and that takes total honesty.”
Using his outstretched hands he guided her around in a circle so she could sit down. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to feel small. She noticed that the arms of the two couches came together about the back of her knee so she sat down on that instead. It wasn’t exactly comfortable as the pressure of her weight was being pushed right between her legs. She was wet again and despite the worry about her dress, the feeling of the couch arms pressing against her pussy was both exciting and soothing.
The man’s voice was calm and strong and she heard him say. “Think back to when you were a young girl, a teenager, how did you relieve anger and stress?.”
An image instantly hit her mind, one that embarrassed and excited her. Her major form of stress release had been masturbation and her focus came from one specific incident.
Upon moving to New York with her mother, her relationship with her white stepfather was mostly a distant one. Between his business investments and charitable endeavors he was rarely at home. In fact, he and Danala’s mother had separate bedrooms.
When she was 16 her mother was in hospital for a minor operation, and Danala decided to sleep in her mother’s bedroom. She woke up around midnight as a sliver of light lit the room. Suddenly she heard the water running and remembered her mother’s room was next to one of the bathrooms. The light was reflecting off the ceiling from an old metal vent about five feet above where she was sleeping.
Almost without thinking, Danala decided to stand on the bed to look through the grate. She was shocked to realize she could see clearly right through to the next room where she saw a naked white man lying in the tub. She had been introduced to him earlier that day as a colleague of her stepfather, who was staying over for the night in order to catch an early flight to Europe the next morning.
She was smart and knew that the darkness of her own room could allow her to watch without being seen, and what she saw fascinated her. He was in his mid-forties, handsome, and had been extremely respectable in appearance when she was introduced to him earlier.
His studious face, eyes now closed, had a look on it that was very unlike what she had known of this man. His shoulder was moving, she followed the line of his arm down his body, reveling in his ivory white skin until it reached a point where the skin was darker. His hand was on his surprisingly sizeable cock. He was flicking the soft member back and forth and making a small splash in the tub each time he did so. The head was almost purplish and when he whipped it back towards his stomach she could see his swollen balls which seemed oddly tanned.
She was both fascinated and scared. She couldn’t take her mind off the flopping penis which was now beginning to get rigid. She wondered what it would feel like, hard in her hand, and what a different sensation those soft testicles would be.
Before she realized it, her own hand was down her panties and both were very wet. They became wetter as she watched this dignified man play with himself. There was something about the low moans he made that sent a shot of warmth down her spine and tingles between her legs. He was soon fully hard, pulling furiously at her current object of fascination.
This quiet, respectable man now looked like an animal, his facial muscles contorting as part of a furious physical endeavor that was extremely primitive and dirty. Were other men like this too? She had wondered.
She jumped slightly as she heard his orgasmic cry and watched in shock as a thick layer of bright white shot from his cock, once twice and a third time, landing in the water with a faint plop.
It was all too much for her, she dropped back down to her bed, put a pillow between her legs, and furiously got herself off, stifling her own cry by biting her lip as a wave of sheer pleasure exploded all over her body. It was a pleasure that excited and relaxed her like no other before or since.
Every night after that, she played and came. Her mind focused on that man in the tub. Longing one day for a man of her own who would let her touch him, play with him, make him moan. Her intense self-orgasms wiped away any anger or frustration that lingered from the end of the day and she slept every night like a baby.
Why had she stopped? She knew why. Once she began having” real” sex, she felt she should no longer be doing it herself. It was undignified. Unfortunately, the few men in her life had been as sexually repressed as she was. Sex with the lights out, sex under the covers. Sex without unleashing the real animal inside them. As a result, she had turned her back on men but had still not reconnected to self-pleasure.
Coming out of her reverie she looked back into the eyes of the man in front of her. The same eyes that had enveloped her with rapt attention when she was on stage. His eyes were so expressive that she could practically read his mind. He had seen the REAL Danala on stage. The one she constantly hid behind her facade of perfect respectability. He had understood the animal inside her, her deep needs and desires. His criticisms were not of the real her, but her attempts to confine and hide her true self in the name of respectability.
He continued to speak to her about her story.
“When you write, your characters will try to fool you.”. You mustn’t let them. They’ll convince you they’re doing things for noble reasons, while they hide their real motivations from themselves and you.”
Danala took in his words subconsciously, her conscious mind noting the similarities between the man in front of her and the one in the bathtub so many years ago. She realized she wanted to see his animal side.
“For instance. He continued. “Imagine a character, charging into a lonely back room away from the crowd to confront a man who has been staring at her for most of the night. She even shuts the door behind her. She thinks she’s fighting for justice, but what is her real motive? What does she really want?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Danala reflexively answered, not aloud but through her lips as she mouths silently. “HIM”
She was still sitting on the arms of the conjoined couches. The man had been looking down at her as she bent forward slightly, still sitting. He saw her mouth move in approval as he suddenly moved forward, pressing his lips against hers. A wave of warmth came over her, as she responded to his kiss. She reached up her arms and slid them around his neck to keep him close. She felt his hands touch her shoulders and then deftly slide down her strapless dress, pushing it downwards while his hands enveloped her nipples.
It was all happening so fast, yet not fast enough for Danala. There was so much she wanted, so much she needed. So much anger and passion and desire, built up through decades of fear and self-denial. The kisses became more furious. She bit his lip and his tongue and he responded by pinching her nipples. It stung and she almost cried out but responded instead by gripping him harder, He pinched them again, aggressively. The animal’s aggressiveness unleashed something in her.
She was no longer acting consciously now. It was pure desire and instinct. She reached out to undo his pants. She needed to feel that cock from her fantasy and she was incredibly pleased to see it matched well with the one her 16-year-old self had wanted so badly. His cock wasn’t fully hard yet, and she was grateful.
She wanted to see and feel the difference and it did not take long. A few strokes of her soft, well-manicured hand and she felt the rigidity building. She quickly put it in her mouth to feel the final change to hardness between her lips. Then she caved in her cheeks and gave a long suck to his sizable head, reveling in the deep moan he made. She felt a sense of pride in having caused it.
His fingers were now in her hair, gripping her head as she felt his member fill her mouth as his balls touched her chin. She heard his voice as he began thrusting inside her mouth, releasing his taste along her tongue as the precum built along the head of his cock.
You thought you wanted your perfect grade, didn’t you my dear? That was your privilege talking, Your respectability. What you really want is this! A man who understands the animal inside you and gives it the fresh meat that it needs.
“Look at me,” he said. She found it difficult but did so. She was aware she was in the most submissive pose. He looked down at her.
“You’re not respectable NOW are you my dear? And you know what, I don’t care. I don’t want the facade. I want the animal inside you. I want to REAL you.”
It’s time for me to colonize your pussy. She deserves to be aggressively ravaged. I’m going to ride her hard and put her away wet.
As he released her head from his cock. Daniela felt a burst of uncontrollable desire. She stood up and threw herself into the man with the piercing eyes and deep voice. She felt the air on her bare tits and it excited her.
She thought she had surprised him with her leap and wanted to trap him against the wall, only he was ready and spun her, using her own force of motion against her so that she hit the wall first with her back.
He quickly moved in, pressing his body against hers. Her mouth was already open and waiting for him. His soft lips quickly pressed hers as he pinned her wrists to the wall. The taste of his precum was still in her mouth and his smell on her face and she eagerly shared both with him. She tore the dress shirt off of his chest and could feel his white skin against hers. His thudding heart matched hers as well as the rhythm of the music upstairs.
He broke their kiss to stare wildly into her eyes. Her pussy was dying for his cock. She heard herself say. “Give it to me. Give it to ME! Please.”
He gripped her face and said measuredly. “I told you you’d leave here with what you deserved. I’m going to fuck the privilege of respectability and expectation right out of you, and you’ll leave a happier person.
Under different circumstances, she knew he would be more gentle, but now was not that time, nor was it what she wanted.
She felt a pressure between her legs, His fist wrapped around his hard cock. Ready to invade her private space the moment he found it. It took less than a second. His head pressed just below her clit, he opened his hand and thrust his thick member deep inside her. The feeling was intense and it made her squeal, but he quickly found his rhythm and she matched it. It was regular but wild. She closed her eyes but he made her open them.
“This is the first time, isn’t it? A man who completely matched your deepest fantasy. You’re going to get exactly what you deserve. A gift for the greedy girl animal inside you.”
Her arms and legs were wrapped around him now, Pressed against a graffiti-covered wall in a dingy room with the thumping of bass sounds in her ears, she was fucking a practical stranger. One who didn’t care about her business, her career, or her respectability.
Her mind flashed at once with a thousand thoughts and images as she was slammed against the wall again and again. His chest pressed tight against her tits and his mouth on hers, his cock penetrating her deeper and harder than no man had done before. She felt the energy from her earlier anger build and change. This man represented so many things she loved and wanted and resented. She concentrated on resentment first. His white privilege, his ability to fit in, and not care about respectability. She’d show him. Her thighs began rotating to match his furious thrusts. She felt her pussy grab him on the outstroke and he responded with exactly the motion she needed on the in-stroke. If he was going to fuck her privilege from her she would do the same with him. She’d match his energy and devour him, exhaust him, show him that her animal side was just a match for his.
The harder she thrust back, the harder kissed her. She grabbed him even closer, wanting to fuck him into submission. It felt good to get her anger out, and out it was coming. An orgasm which was years in the making began to form as his cock violated her again and again. Her anger suddenly transformed and lifted and for a few seconds she simply surrendered to this dirty, beautiful stranger as he sped up his thrusts. It was liberating and she finally felt free to let the wave of energy release in her sexual explosion. She gripped his cock and felt a wet rush as she howled at the top of her lungs, unable to stop it. This freedom orgasm shot out into every molecule of her body, lighting it with energy and leaving it spent. Her hand grabbed his ass pushing him in totally and completely and not letting him go, forcing him to take in the sensations of her pussy spasming as the echos of her scream slowly subsided in the tiny room.
As their embrace ended. She watched the man stagger backward and flop down on one of the couches. She followed him, laying across his lap facing away from him and towards the mirror next to the door. She was breathing heavily and couldn’t think of anything to say. She looked at the scene.
©2023 R.Jay Moran sexystoriesforwomen.com
Her man, and at the moment he was very much her man was lying on an old dirty couch in this graffiti-covered room in a dingy bar. She was lying across his lap. Her weight was on her elbow, her hand on his cock. Her once elegant orange dress was now looking more like a cummerbund. The top pulled down to her waist and the bottom pulled up to her hips revealing her tits, ass, and pussy. It looked sordid, totally undignified, and very dirty. She was loving it. Her man had still not cum yet and was fully erect. He reveled in the sheen of the pussy juice and saliva around his head and shaft. She had marked him with it and was now going to taste it. She watched herself slide her tongue over his gooey head, as the gleam transferred to her tongue.
At that moment, unexpectedly, the door swung open. It was Denise the organizer along with another man Danala did not recognize.
Danala was frozen in surprise, her tongue still on her man’s cock. Denise, the organizer was frozen too. Staring at the two figures on the couch as she turned bright red. The thin man next to her, with a bow tie and bright blue eyes was looking straight at Danala in all of her sexual glory. Being the more composed of the two, Danala watched as the man said “sorry”, and closed the door again.
Danala was about to jump up, readjust her clothes and find a way to exit respectively, but her man on the couch had other plans. He held onto her grabbed her head and slid her down on his cock again, thrusting furiously in her mouth. The exhibitionist episode had obviously turned him on. He was proud and excited being seen like this with her and was desperate to get off.
“Oh Danla, you were everything I expected. You are such a good girl. I knew you had it in you. Oh, suck my cock just like that. Fuck your mouth is amazing. Now that your anger is fucked out of you, you’re ready to receive me, take my seed of freedom, and swallow it down your greedy little throat. Our visitors were so jealous. That man wanted you bad and Denise… she only wishes she can suck my cock like this. But it’s yours now.
It was hers and she was going to take it. It was a desire built up since she had seen that hard cock through the bedroom vent. As an adult, she had been too respectable to have any man cum in her mouth. Now she wanted nothing more. This cock, this man was different. She was excited and proud to satisfy it.
Danala quickly began to touch her pussy as she reveled in her man’s desire for her mouth. Her body shook in a thunderous orgasm that began just a second before she heard her man stifle a howl and fill her mouth with his thick and voluminous cum. As the first explosion landed on her tongue she felt dirty and free, her one had cupped his balls, coaxing his sperm into her mouth. She wanted him totally empty. Her other hand continued swirling on her clit, sending waves of fireworks around her body with continuous mini-orgasms. The white shots from that man in the tub were finally where she wanted them. Inside of her.
On the couch, Her man’s orgasmic cry subsided and he loosened his grip. He growled and slowed his thrusts stroking the final drops of his essence into this woman he had never seen before tonight. Danala consumed it greedily feeling its warmth transform her as it slid down her throat. She beamed inwardly, knowing that he had nothing left to give. He had given it all to her.
Moments passed as they stayed completely still. His now empty cock still in her mouth, against her tongue. Neither wanted to move.
Finally, he pulled her up to face him as she sat astride his lap. Her pussy was drenched and so were his thighs, but they didn’t care. They stared at each other in both exhaustion and disbelief, but as their eyes examined each other, they acknowledged the presence of the animal in them both. Their respectable facades had no currency here. The only thing they cared about were the touch, smell, and taste of the other.
Danala no longer cared about the reasons that brought her here. She’d not only received exactly what she deserved but also desperately needed. With the taste of the man still lingering in her mouth, she leaned over and gave him a kiss to thank him.