Take It Outside

Sitting in the bar wearing her uniform sent a message.  A woman wearing marine fatigues caused several reactions, and Natasha loved to see who and how people responded.  She took in the bar patrons while waiting for her beer. It was a quiet night, only a few biker types nursing beers and ignoring her.  At least until he came in. 

Victorian woman holding a whip

Natasha had learned how to spot men like him a year after boot camp.  He was the kind that found her uniform a challenge.  She wondered if he was the type that wanted to help her release her “true nature” and find her feminine side or if he was the kind that wanted to prove he could take her in a fight.

The first type left her bored to tears, but the second, sometimes she found the second could be very, very interesting.  The guy eyeing her in between lining up pool shots seemed like the latter type.  This guy was either in a motorcycle club or had watched too many episodes of Sons of Anarchy.  She drank her beer, watching him play pool in the mirror.  He bent to make his shot, and Natasha liked the way his ass looked in the tight jeans.

He won the game and took the small pile of bills from the edge of the table.  He sauntered over to the bar and sat next to Natasha. 

He ordered a beer and caught her eye in the mirror.  “Think your tough?”

Natasha rolled her eyes at him in the mirror. “Nope.”

He turned to look at her, “So what’s with the uniform?”

She set her beer down, “I don’t think I’m tough, I am tough.”  She was pleased to see the shock and respect on his face at her answer.  

He set his beer down and shot her a sly smile. “Want to prove it?”

Natasha smiled back, “Out back?”

She rose from the bar, not bothering to look back and see if he was following her – she knew he would.  In the parking lot, she stood under the flickering security lights. He was only a few steps behind her and stood a moment staring at her.  She saw the doubt creep over his face.  She was a good six inches shorter than him and he outweighed her by a solid 70 pounds. 

This time Natasha smiled.  He was exactly what she looking for. She took a step toward him and landed a punch on his jaw before he even registered the move. She felt the crack of her fist against his chin, heard the meaty thud of contact, before stepping back.

He growled out an oath and swung at her, missing her by inches.  Natasha guessed that he wasn’t going to pull his punches now.  She landed a couple more jabs to his face and stomach before he managed to hit her at all.  She felt his fist connect with her shoulder, narrowly missing her face. The electric jolt of it tore through her; he wasn’t holding back, and that was what she wanted. 

victorian woman seated on a table wearing a slip and top hat pouring champagne

Rolling her shoulder, she winced a little before changing up the fight and landing a kick to his knees.  It sent him down to the asphalt.  Before he could recover, she launched herself at him, knocking him flat on his back.  She winced as she heard the crack of his skull against the concrete.  She grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head up.  “Tough enough for you?” She hissed.  Straddling his lap, she felt his cock straining against his jeans.

He sneered at her, “Lucky shot, bitch.” He shot back.

Grinding her pussy against his cock, she leaned back and slapped him across the face.  She felt his cock twitch and knew that she’d gauged him correctly.  She slapped him again, loving the sting in her palm, and watching his head snap around.

When he turned back, he smiled with blood on his lip.

“Tough enough?” she growled.

He met her eyes, and she noticed they were a beautiful shade of blue.  He shook his head, with a smile.

Natasha smiled back and slapped him again, the crack of her hand against his face making her pussy wet.  This time she heard his moan, and he bucked his hips underneath her.  She grabbed his hair again, and leaned down and kissed him, hard.  She tasted the blood on his lips, and when he tried to flip her over, she bit his lip and yanked his head back down, “Bad boy.”  Reaching a hand between them, she unzipped his pants.

He locked eyes with her as she freed his cock.  Her hand wrapped around his length, loving how hard he was. She dug her nails into him.  He flinched but kept his eyes locked on her as he licked his lips.  She unbuttoned her pants, shimmying the fatigues down her thighs.  She released her hold on his cock, and rather than trying to flip her over, he grabbed her thighs. “You gonna fuck me?” He asked, his fingers biting into her thighs.

She raised an eyebrow at him and fished a condom out of her pocket. Tossing it to his chest, she waited.  He reached for it, and she shifted back, giving him access to his cock. She thought for a moment that he may resume their fight.  He seemed to be considering the same, but finally tore open the wrapper and unrolled the condom down his cock, wincing a little when it reached the part that bore her nail marks.

He returned his hands to her thighs, tugging her forward.  Her knees scraped on the asphalt as she positioned his cock. Natasha felt the tip of his cock press inside her and groaned. His fingers tightened on her thighs, once again biting into her flesh. She felt him tense, holding himself still.  “you gonna fuck me?” she asked.

He shifted his hands, grabbing her hips and dragging her down onto his cock. She rode him hard and fast then, rubbing her clit as his hands clutched her thighs and hips, bruising her. “Fuck yes,” she muttered as she felt her orgasm building, and closed her eyes.

He growled and thrust his hips, clearly not used to being unable to set the pace. Natasha laughed, a deep throaty sound, as she hit the edge of her orgasm.  She changed her movements, grinding against him until she came.  She began to rise off of him, but he pulled her back onto him.  His cock buried inside her pulsing pussy, he locked eyes with her. 

“Hit me” he growled.

1900s man on a motocycle

Natasha hadn’t expected that from him. A rough fuck sure, but a request for more was a surprise.  She tilted her pelvis, hearing him groan before drawing her hand back.  She delivered the open-handed slap to his face, watching his head jerk to one side.  When he looked at her again, she slapped the other side of his face and felt his cock twitch as he came. He continued to thrust, into her closing his eyes.

When he stopped moving, she slid off of him.  She stood slowly, feeling her skinned knees burning.  Her shoulder ached as she tugged her pants up.  She brushed her hair back, before offering him a hand up.

He pulled off the condom, and zipped his pants, before taking her hand and letting her help him up. He looked down at her, his lip bleeding again. “You’re a tough bitch,” he said.

“Thanks, so are you.” She answered, before turning to walk away.

“Want to do this again sometime?” he called into the parking lot?


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