NSFW - A chance encounter in Deansgate – Conor meets Alexandra

First effort at erotica - Feedback welcome

It was Thursday afternoon. Conor, a 35-year-old Irishman sat alone in a bar in Deansgate that let’s just say had seen better days. In days gone by the cigarettes would have hidden the stench of stale beer and cleaning products that were now common in bars such as this. He stood out, being probably the only one in the place who had worked that day, sat there in his navy-blue Armani suit, starched white shirt buttoned to the neck, and his Barkers brogues, reading that days edition of The Telegraph. The sleet was beating against the window outside, he was just glad to be inside. He had 8 hours to kill before his scheduled 10 o’clock flight back to Dublin, a flight he took regularly following his monthly catch up with the bosses of the Manchester firm he worked for.

Normally on these Thursdays Conor would have gotten another business meeting in in the afternoon, meaning very little free time in Manchester, but today he’d been let down by a colleague due to the weather outside, the same weather that was keeping him inside. He decided the best thing to do was settle in for the afternoon, have a few pints, read the paper, watch whatever sport came on the tv and head towards the airport early, around 18.30. He wasn’t working the next day as he always had the Friday off as time in lieu for coming over to England. So why not.

The afternoon rolled on slowly. The pub was getting noticeably busier as people came in to avoid the weather. Every time the door opened, he had a quick look up over the rim of his pint or paper. He thought to himself some eye candy would be nice as it was going to be a long day. As he was flying home that night eye candy was all he could ask for, but based on what was coming into this establishment he feared he wasn’t even going to get that. The best he’d seen so far was a couple of 4 out of 10s and a couple of “Butter faces”.

14.00 came and went, as did 15.00. The pints were going down slowly but steadily. A text came in from his secretary in Dublin, “Is your flight still ok?”. He thought, why wouldn’t it be, it was only a bit of sleet. He texted back, “Why wouldn’t it be?”. The reply came in, “Its snowing here, and its starting to stick”. Not good he thought to himself, but what could he do. It was an act of God, it was out of his hands. If his flight was cancelled, he knew there would be no bother finding a hotel in Manchester on a Thursday night and he knew work would cover it. Best thing to do was sit tight, not to worry, and enjoy the pints.

It hit 16.00. The place was rammed at this stage, but Conor still had his seat in the corner due to his early arrival. At approximately 16.10, the door opened. Conor peered over his paper, as he had done on each occasion someone entered that afternoon. But this occasion was different, for once he wasn’t drawn straight back to the print. In front of him stood a tanned lady, umbrella in hand but without a jacket, around 50 years of age, in navy heels, what he thought were sheer tights and a fitted red dress, who was clearly not a regular in this establishment. She got inside and ran her fingers through her short blonde hair to get the sleet out of it. Her dress rose slightly as she did this, revealing some of her thigh, and to Conors surprise and delight, a lace stocking top. Very nice, he thought to himself. Best view he’d had all day.

She proceeded to go to the bar, and to Conors surprise, was alone. She stood where he could see her, unbeknown to the fact he was checking her out, and ordered herself a coffee. The reply came “We don’t serve coffee here darling”. “Guess it will be a gin so” she said and proceeded to order a Tanqueray and tonic. Conor looked on as she sipped away on it. He couldn’t get back to the article he’d been reading, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He listened as she chatted to the barman, an outgoing lady it seemed, and admired her beautiful curves as he did. She had an ass to die for, and that red dress really showed it off. Her breasts looked perfect, a nice handful, and they were still impressively pert. Her smile drew his eye to her and kept it on her. He continued to check her out for the next 15 minutes, noticing every movement, trying to pretend he wasn’t checking her out, until she looked at him. His eyes shot to the ground instantly in an effort to disguise the fact he had been staring. He was shy when he saw someone he really fancied. Unbeknownst to him this of course drew attention to the fact he had been staring. And she knew it.

Conors pint soon ran dry. Best get to the bar to get another he thought, and luckily for him there was only one space at the bar, right beside the lady in red. He approached, she smiled, he smiled back. “Dreadful out there” he said. She nodded in agreement and replied in a soft English accent that it sure was. She then proceeded to ask him where his accent was from. “Dublin” he replied, and the small talk continued. “What has you here” she asked. “Work, off home tonight” he replied. “Not if this weather continues” she replied with a laugh. He noticed she was nearing the end of her drink. “What will you have” he asked. “A Tanqueray and tonic with extra ice, and I’ll join you over there as these shoes are killing me” came the response. Great he thought and proceeded to order.

They sat down together; he couldn’t help but notice her dress creep up her thighs as she sat down. Damn her legs looked amazing in those stockings. He was definitely hoping to catch another glimpse of those stocking tops at some point. “Whats your name?” he asked. “Alexandra”, she replied, “but my friends call me Alex”. “What has you in this part of town?” he enquired, knowing this would not be a regular haunt of hers. “I’d a meeting next door at the Hilton” came her reply. “Thought id walk home but then the sleet got worse, so here I am” she said. “Glad you are” he replied as he smiled at her. She smiled back. The conversation started to flow. 17.00. 18.00 passed. He was about to get ready to leave, then ping, a message arrived. Conors secretary. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but all flights in and out of Dublin are cancelled. Book a room and you’re on the 12.00 flight tomorrow”. “****” he said, as he explained the situation. “Plenty of places to stay around here though. I’ll be grand. Guess I’m here for the night now. Another drink?” “Sure, why not”, she said.

19.00. 20.00. The drinks were flowing at this stage. They were both getting slightly intoxicated and a little hungry. Alex asked did he fancy a bite to eat. He did, he was starving by now. “I’ll whip you up something so, I’m only 5 minutes in a cab away.” Couldn’t say no to that. She ordered a cab and they left together. He helped her into the back, checking out her amazing arse as he did. Damn she looked good. He noticed her perfume, a sweet scent. He liked it. He sat down next to her. He knew it was only a 5-minute ride, so he took a chance and quickly put his hand on her leg as they settled down in the back. She smiled back at him. It remained there for the journey.

Alex lived in a penthouse apartment overlooking Salford Quays. She told him she was a hotel manager by trade, and the apartment was one of the perks of the job for re-locating to Manchester from London. She put on some music, a mix of modern indie and classic Manchester tunes, and they continued to chat as she put the food on. Creamy lemon garlic chicken with asparagus was on the menu. Very nice he thought to himself. 45 minutes flew by, and they were soon at the kitchen table, bottle of merlot opened, glasses poured, and the conversation flowing. He thought he better book a hotel but was told he could stay in her spare room for the night. She was doing her good deed for the day. He most certainly didn’t object. She was stunning, it was horrible out and he was quite enjoying himself. Another glass was poured.

After the meal they sat back down on the couch. Once more Conor attempted to put his hand on Alexs leg. Once more she didn’t object. He ran his fingers up her thigh, to the top of her stockings, still no objection. He leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back. Her lips were soft. He liked that. They continued to kiss, more and more passionately. He slid his hands up her dress on to her bare legs, smooth just as he expected. She grabbed his firm ass and pulled off his suit jacket. She began to unbutton his shirt, as he unzipped her dress. Underneath was a red lace bra. He slid the dress down over her shoulders. She stood up and it dropped to the floor. She was in a matching thong. This girl is perfect he thought to himself. As they continued to kiss. He opened up her bra, and took a good look at her chest as it dropped to the ground. Her tanned breasts were pert, a perfect handful, and her nipples stood impressively to attention. He proceeded to kiss and feel them, to cup them in his hands, to lick them, to nibble gently on them. Alex was enjoying this.

Alex finished unbuttoning his shirt and dropped it to the ground, she slid up his white vest revealing his toned chest, sat back down and started kissing it and running her hands over it. She opened up his belt and ripped it off him. She began to unbutton his fly. He was rock hard by now. She slid down his white Calvin Klein boxers. She took his hard cock in her hand and looked up at him, smiling and giving him a wink. She grabbed his firm arse, and started to lick his cock, before opening wide and taking it in her mouth. Up and down she went, paying equal attention to his head and shaft, cupping his balls. He moaned with pleasure.

He thought to himself, its her turn now. He slid his cock out of her mouth and started to kiss her again. He lay her down on the couch and slid down her stockings. He grabbed hold of her toned arse and parted her legs, getting down on his knees. He kissed her ankles, her calves, her thighs. Her legs felt so good. He slid down her thong, revealing her well maintained pussy. He started to kiss all around it teasingly, gently licking it, fingering it, running his tongue over her clitoris. Alex was clearly enjoying it, holding his long brown hair as he ate her out.

After 15 minutes, she grabbed his hair more firmly and pulled him toward her. He kissed her belly and breasts as he moved up her body. Her lips. Her neck. She whispered in his ear “**** me” as his cock neared her pussy. He teasingly rubbed its head against her, before slowly penetrating her soaking wet pussy. She was tight. It felt good. She grabbed his arse and encouraged him to go deeper. He obliged. She told him to sit up and climbed on top of him. He didn’t object. He grabbed her arse as she ****ed him senseless, admiring her tits and bullet like nipples as she leaned back. The sight of them, and the feeling of being inside her was like being in heaven. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. One last grab of her arse and one last push deep inside. He shot his load right up her, as she tightened around his cock. He kissed her as he ejaculated, whispering a polite “thank you” in her ear as he did. He couldn’t believe his luck. The luck of the Irish as they say.

She took him to the bedroom. He lay her down and parted her legs again. It was his turn to go again. She more than deserved it and he couldn’t wait to enjoy the taste of her once again. This time he continued until she could take no more, until her legs twitched uncontrollably, and her neighbours could hear her through the walls. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked. She smiled and ushered him up the bed. He wrapped his arms around her, and they ****ed once more, side by side, before falling asleep in that position.

The next morning Conor woke at 7.00 to Alex running her fingers down his chest. As soon as he awoke, she grabbed his cock. He was instantly hard. “We’ve only got 30 minutes” she said as she climbed on top of him and started to **** him. She looked even better in the morning he thought. She was beautiful. He watched every expression on her face as she enjoyed his cock. She didn’t let up until he exploded inside her. Was he still ****ing dreaming he thought? Most certainly not.

Unfortunately, it was time to get up. Conor had a flight to catch, Alex a 9.00 meeting. Showers were had and Conor lay back and watched Alex get dressed. Navy lace thong and bra, stockings, navy dress, red heels. He asked was it the same every day. She winked. “Yes always, well Monday to Friday anyway.” Sexy ****ing bitch he thought, and off they went. She turned and shouted, “Text me next time you’re in town!”. No doubt about it he thought.