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You aren't usually one for clubs, but your friends have dragged you out tonight. The place is at least somewhat classy; the decor is rich and vibrant, the music slow and sensuous with a bass that throbs through you as you move with it. It's one of the nicer places they'd dragged you to.
You get thirsty after dancing for a while, and you yell in your friend's ear that you're going to get a drink and will be back in a minute. She nods and goes back to writhing sinuously with the other bodies around her. It's a little disorienting to push your way through the dance floor but eventually you make it to the bar, a dark wood counter top that reflects the deep jewel tones of the lights. You lean forwards, trying to get the bartender's attention, but they're busy with a group down at the other end of the bar. You don't want to be rude or annoying, so you slide onto a barstool as someone else vacates it and settle in to wait.
"Ya here with someone?" The voice is clear, even though it isn't raised. You turn to see a woman looking at you with her head tilted, eyebrow raised in invitation.
She's older than you, mid forties perhaps, with a stern face and piercing eyes. You can't help the way your eyes stray to her arms, bared by the black tank top she's wearing. Those are the kind of muscles that are built to be used, not vanity muscles that are only meant to look good. The shirt is cropped very slightly, sliding upwards just enough to offer a glimpse at the skin of her stomach, the softness of her belly almost certainly hiding the kind of abs that could hold you in the air and -
"Oh, uh, no. I mean, yes. I mean, my friends." You gesture vaguely at the dance floor, surprised and flustered. The corner of the woman's mouth ticks up slightly, and you feel yourself blushing. God, could you be any less cool?
"Let me buy you a drink." She says, raising a hand to get the bartender's attention.
She has no trouble being noticed; in seconds, the bartender is in front of you, waiting for your drink order. You give it and they nod, turning to make it. Out of the corner of your eye you watch the woman as she sips on the amber liquid in her glass. You want to say something to her, but you have no idea what. When the bartender returns to hand you your drink she slides a note across the counter to them with a nod.
"Oh, you don't have to -"
"I want to." She cuts you off immediately, and it's all you can do to nod shyly.
You take a fortifying sip of your drink, the alcohol burning down your throat as you try to muster up your courage. You turn to the woman and say your name, way too loudly. She cocks her head at you.
"Um. That's my name." You say sheepishly. You wish the ground would swallow you whole.
"Kerry." She says in response, taking another sip of her drink as her eyes drift over you, taking in the way your dress skims over your curves and the shortness of the hem shows too much of your thighs. You regret allowing your friends to talk you into wearing it. "But most people call me sarge."
"Sarge? Like seargant? You were in the army?" She nods, and doesn't explain. You bite your lip and take another large swig of your drink.
"What are ya here for?" She asks.
"Oh, um. My friend likes to dance, so I got dragged along. What about you?" She shrugs one shoulder, eyes turning calculating.
"I thought I might find a pretty little thing to fuck." The sip you were taking of your drink goes down the wrong way and you choke, coughing desperately into your elbow as the woman - Sarge - pats your back. After a moment you look up at her, certain you misheard.
"Um. What?"
"I'm here to find someone to fuck." She repeats, and she's definitely smirking at you. "Are ya interested?"
"I -" Your immediate instinct is to say no. Casual hookups aren't really your thing, and you usually like to know someone for a while before you fall into bed with them. On the other hand, it's been a while since you were with anybody, and having to spend your last few heats alone has left an itch under your skin that you can never quite seem to scratch.
Also, Sarge is incredibly hot, and you realise you'd really, really like to get fucked by her.
"Yes," you say before your caution can catch up with your courage. "I'm interested."
Sarge's eyes go molten, and she downs the rest of her drink before standing up. You leave the last sip of yours - the arousal beginning to burn in your belly is better than any alcohol anyway. She leads you further into the club, which isn't what you were expecting, but as she pushes open a door and ushers you out into an alley you find you don't really care.
You turn to her and open your mouth to say something - you don't know what, figure you'll find out once you say it - but she pushes you against the bricks before you can, cushioning your head with her hand as she presses your lips together. You gasp into her mouth and she uses the opportunity to press her tongue in, licking at the roof of your mouth and swallowing your moan. Her hands are everywhere, sliding down your sides, cupping your breasts, grabbing at a thigh to pull it over her hip and press your bodies together.
"Please, I -" You gasp, but she cuts you off, grinding her hard dick against you. You moan, the scent of her spiking, all leather and whiskey and gunsmoke. "I want you inside."
"So eager," she growls into your ear. Your pussy clenches on nothing, empty and desperate. "Ya want me ta fuck ya?"
"Please," you beg, using your leg to pull her in against you, to grind your core against the hot, hard length of her. Your underwear is wet, slick leaking out of you as your body begs for her cock inside.
She groans and pushes a hand in between your bodies, sliding her fingers over the wetness of your underwear and drinking in your moans. Her fingers are quick and talented, pushing the soaked fabric out of the way to dance over your clit.
"So wet for me," she whispers against the shell of your ear. "Such a good girl."
You moan and can't stop the way your hips buck against her hand, can't stop the whine when her fingers slide over the entrance of your cunt.
"Please please please," you beg, almost crying with desperation as you feel her fingers so close to where you need them.
She hums and slides two fingers inside, groaning as she feels how hot and wet you are around her. You can't help the way you clench down, wanting her in deeper.
"Ya needed this, didn't ya? For someone to take charge? To hold ya down and make ya feel good?"
She slides down to her knees and you barely have time to miss her warmth before she's placing her lips over your clit and sucking. You slap your hand over your mouth to cover the noise you make, and immediately she draws back, pulling her fingers out of your cunt and smacking them down hard over your clit. You howl, pain and pleasure mixing as she glares up at you.
"None of that now, girl. I want to hear ya."
She thrusts her fingers back into your pussy and fucks you with them, scissoring them apart to lick between them before moving back up to work on your clit. Your hips twitch forward, but she grabs you with her free hand and forces you back against the wall, holding you still.
The warmth bubbling in your belly is building, becoming a flame, then an inferno. You can feel the white heat pickling in your fingers.
"Sarge," you moan, one hand on her shoulder to hold you up and the other scrabbling at the bricks behind you, searching for a hand hold and finding none. "Fuck, I'm gonna come, I want to, please can I -"
"Go ahead, lass." She mumbles against you and you're gone, shuddering and crying out as she works you through it with fingers and lips and tongue. It goes on for ages, your body wracked with pleasure as she wrings every last drop of it out of you. When you finally start shivering with oversensitivity, she sits back on her heels and looks up at you with a smirk that's bordering on smug.
"All done?" She asks, scissoring the fingers that are still inside you and drinking in the whine that bubbles out of your throat. "Or do ya still me to fuck ya?"
The sparks of pleasure in your belly have barely stopped and yet they're already beginning again, arousal returning before it's even had a chance to leave as her fingers keep moving.
"I - I still want it," you gasp, whining as she draws her fingers out and wipes them on your thigh.
"Turn around then, lass. You're gonna want something to brace yourself."
You turn and lean on the wall, letting it take your weight. You hear the sound of a zipper and then you feel Sarge pressed up against you again, your dress lifted to your waist as she shoves your underwear down.
"Legs together," she orders, and you're following her instructions before you can even think about it.
She pushes her cock between the softness of your thighs and hisses, squeezing your hips as she thrusts back and forth. The velvet covered steel of her rubs against your pussy and you can't help squirming, needing more. She slaps your ass and you yelp.
"Patience, girl," she says, and you nod meekly and bite your tongue so you don't beg her to hit you again. She must be getting impatient too though, because she presses down on your back and drags your hips back before angling her cock to tap at your entrance.
"Fuck, please -" The words are dragged out of you, torn from your chest as you beg for her to fuck you. She smacks her cock against your pussy once, twice, before finally pushing inside.
You sigh and gasp in relief, and then whine when she stops after just the head is inside. You wiggle your hips, hoping to entice her deeper, but she just grabs you and holds you still.
"What are you waiting for?" You complain, and she huffs out a laugh against the back of your neck.
"So you're a brat once the shyness has been fucked out of ya, huh?" You huff, cheeks going red and why is that making you blush when her cock is literally inside you? "Fine, lass, I'll give ya what ya want."
She thrusts her cock inside with no warning, a sharp, hard movement that sends her deep inside and has you gasping as the breath is pushed from your lungs. It's so deep, how fucking big is she?
"Fuck, Sarge, fuck, I -" You drop one hand from the wall to press against your stomach, half convinced you'll be able to feel her through your skin. You can't, of course; she's an alpha and her cock is huge, but there are limits to what the human body can take. Still, the thought sends white hot arousal skittering through you, making you gasp as she begins a slow grind and you have to return your hand to the wall to stop your face from scraping against it.
"This what you wanted, lass? A nice fat cock in your wet little hole?" She draws out fully and plunges back in and you wail, gasping wetly for breath as she sets a pace that has you scrambling just to keep standing.
She leans in close to nip at your earlobe and you feel surrounded by her, by her warmth and her scent and by the bubble of pleasure she's encased you in. The friction of her cock against your walls is sending white lights flashing through your vision, your eyes beginning to cross from the sheer pleasure of her inside you.
"Such a good girl," she murmurs, and you squirm as her hand slides around your hip and down to play with your clit, barely brushing against it before the pleasure floods through you and you buck in her arms, coming hard around her cock.
She keeps fucking you as you come, walls squeezing her so tightly she groans and has to fight to pull out and thrust her way back in and it's so good, it's too good, you're going to come again immediately -
"So fucking good for me, lass," she says, and slaps your clit again. This time you white out, coming so hard she has to hold you up, carrying all your weight as her cock continues to bully its way into your cunt. You're crying now, gasping for breath and gripping tight to the arm around your waist that is the only thing keeping you from sliding to the floor, other than the cock still nestled in your guts.
"Knot me," you gasp, not really meaning to but not regretting it. "Please, want your knot, want your come, fuck."
"Yeah?" It's barely a breath, growled quietly against your cheek as she grips your chin and forces your head to turn so she can lick at your mouth. It's not a kiss; your mouth is open and panting and it's all you can do to try and get your feet under you as she takes and takes and takes. "Ya want my knot? Wanna be all stretched out and full, dripping with my come?"
You wail and nod and she fucks you faster, harder, letting go of your chin to grab your hips with both hands and move you on her cock like a fucking ragdoll. You're pretty sure you're drooling, and more sure that you don't care.
"Please," you beg, cockdrunk and desperate. "Please, I want your come."
"Fuck," she swears, pulling you close as her hips jackhammer against your ass. "Not here, sweet girl. I'm not knotting ya in an alley."
"Please," you say again, so lost in pleasure you can barely understand her. All you know is that she isn't giving you what you want and it isn't fair, you want it so bad, haven't you been good?
"I know lass, I know. Ya've been so good," she soothes, gentle enough that you wonder if you said some of that out loud. "Ya can have my come, alright? But not my knot. Not here."
You nod shakily, choking on a sob as you feel the swell of her knot bump against your entrance. You want it so badly, but not here isn't no. Maybe if you're good enough she'll want to do this again, maybe you can have her in a bed where you can ride her cock until her knot is locked up inside you and then wait for it to go down so you can do it all over again.
Behind you she swears and draws back, the first few inches of her cock jerking into you as she fists her knot hard. You feel it when she starts to come, hot stripes of wetness inside of you that kick off another orgasm, making you shake and squeeze around her as she empties herself into you. You let your body go limp, shaking and mewling as she holds you up and fills you up with her come.
"There ya go," she murmurs softly, and you whine as she begins to pull out. "I know, sweet thing, I know."
You feel her come beginning to drop down your thigh and that's not good, you want to keep it inside, but you're too tired to do anything but whine. She chuckles, and then you feel her fingers scoop it up and push it back into you, keeping it all inside. You hum and lean back into her, face turning to nuzzle gratefully against her neck.
"I really did a number on ya, didn't I?" She murmurs, and you ignore her to brush your nose over her scent gland and sigh as the pleasant scent fills your nostrils. "We have to move sometime, lass."
You start to whine in protest, and then you remember your previous thought; bed. Riding. All over again. You nod your head instead.
"Y'should take me home." Your words are slurred with exhaustion and lingering arousal, and she huffs a laugh against your hair.
"Yeah? Y'wanna come home with me?"
"Mmm." You try to twist to get closer to her but the movement threatens to dislodge her fingers from you, and you frown. She sighs and pulls her hand back, ignoring your whine.
"If ya want me to take ya home, I'm gonna need both my hands." You flush, brain slowly beginning to come back online after being fucked into stupidity. Your cheeks heat with embarrassment at being so needy, and you see her face soften. She lifts her clean hand to cup your cheek and turn you towards her, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. "Hey. I'm not complainin'. I just need both hands to drive."
You smile hesitantly up at her, and try not to blush too hard as she pulls your underwear back up and smooths down your skirt before tucking her cock away. You can feel her come leaking out into the soaked fabric of your underwear, mixing with the slick already there. Your clit twitches, arousal and overstimulation making you shiver.
"My jacket's inside," she says, apparently mistaking the shudder for chill. "Ya can have it when we leave."
You nod, following her back into the club. You feel like everyone can tell exactly what you were both just doing, and you pat your hair down anxiously. Across the room you lock eyes with the friend you came here with, and she makes a you good? face at you. You gesture towards Sarge and her eyes go wide before she gives you a huge thumbs up and a grin. You roll your eyes and turn away and try not to blush again when you see Sarge looking at you.
You grab her jacket and step out into the night again and she holds it out for you, sliding it up your arms and settling it over your shoulders. It's heavy leather, black and soft and it smells so much like her you know she must wear it often. Her putting it on you feels like a claim. You try not to shiver again.
She pauses, digging her keys out of her pocket and glancing at you with a cheeky smirk that makes the corners of her eyes crease. You want to follow those creases with your fingertips and kiss them gently. You blink hard and force yourself to pay attention to what she's saying as she gestures towards the vehicle next to you.
"You ever ridden a motorbike?" You shake your head and the smirk turns gentle. "It's simple. Just hold on tight to me and you'll be fine."
You nod. Holding on tight won't be a problem.
The only thing you're worried about is what will happen when it's time to let go.