Winos

So I met up with Y on Thursday night. Instead of her coming over East or meeting in the middle, I offered for us to meet local to her. She chose a pub which as it turned out was in the same area as K's family home. Walking the streets from tube to pub, I couldn't help but be affected by the familiar surroundings and subsequent associations that they had.

My earphones are pretty much an omnipresent augmentation to my body whenever I walk or take a journey, my world turned purely visual, a custom soundtrack blocks out all ambient noise and conversation. So I switch tunes to something more upbeat and let myself get taken away by the music. Now swaggering down the street to the pub my pace quickens, weaving through crowded pavements, head bobbing, the faceless commuters and my negative thoughts are left behind.

I push through heavy double doors, shiny with varnish and brass fittings walking into a gastropub. It's well furnished and characterful. In the centre is a large circular old wooden bar. I find a break in the groups and couples sitting and leaning round the bar, next to a pretty girl by herself. I wonder if maybe she's here to meet a date too. I order a Guinness for me and a Shiraz for Y. The girl behind the bar comments on the magazine I have with me, about how her brother was in one of the regular sections. We talk as she sorts out the drinks, I make some sort of wisecrack and we both laugh. It's at this point that Y walks up, smiling and apologising it's so much further form the tube than she thought. We kiss on the cheek and exchange pleasantries. Collecting my change we go find a seat.

Y takes her jacket off to reveal she's wearing tights with soft brown leather knee high boots and a tight leopard print dress. I'll be honest, the dress wasn't the best of looks, but the way she was poured into it took away any sartorial criticism I may have had. I wasn't sure what was going to happen tonight, she's not been easy to read, but the dress went some way towards answering these questions - she had not dressed down. We caught up and everything was pleasant. We were only meeting here for a drink, Y had a wine and cheese tasting voucher she bought off of Groupon which was at a place around the corner. Wine and cheese: two of my favourite things, so I was totally up for this.

We got to the place, and sat ourselves down on a sofa at the back. We were looked after by one of the sommeliers, a scandinavian looking girl who told us we were to choose 12 wines from a list of about 30. I'd done this once before so I took the lead, picking out a couple of sparklings to start with then a 40/60% split between white and reds.

Drinking games exist to give a reason for you all to drink quickly and consistently for a period of time. Wine tasting is basically a cultured way to achieve the same end. We had some pretty good wines, and the glasses were a lot fuller than I'd normally expect - with four wines still to come we both felt pretty well on the way. I remember us laughing more this time, the wine no doubt helping this along. Soon we were kissing on the sofa, this time with tongues and more sensuality. The place was emptying out so we left, tipping the sommelier and thanking them all.

As we walked away arm in arm I still wasn't sure where the night was headed. We walked talking about another drink or maybe it was getting too late with places closing. Coming to a junction it was a right to the tube station or left to hers. I made some comment about how I'd better get a move on to get home,

"You're kidding??"

"Of course I am! Come on let's go"

She'd brought up the fact that the tube was to the right so I took that as a hint that our night was soon to come to an end. I wasn't joking at all...

We got back to her place, cracked open another bottle of red and she put on Friday Night Dinner which we'd mentioned earlier in the night. Pulling out the sofa bed we cuddled up, drinking, laughing and soon we were kissing too. Turns out Y was a big fan of leopard print: because yep, she had on matching bra and panties too - this did not go unremarked by myself. Naked, all of the running and gym talk by Y made sense. Her body was taut, her breasts a C cup and she had some of the best legs I've had the pleasure to have been between recently. Yay for exercising.

Prior to this, I did have concerns that Y could turn out to be another P in the making and so far nothing other than a few comments in texts led me to believe otherwise. But I needn't have worried.

Because Y fucking loved it.

She embraced foreplay with a real hunger and no small amount of skill. Even though we were both by now really very drunk (and with no bumps to sharpen the mind), we both gave a pretty good account of ourselves. Y liked to rake her hands and nails over my torso and thighs, I'm quite muscular and she'd said that she really gets turned on by this - she'd be kneeling on the floor between my legs as I was laid back. Her hands would be running up and down my arms, across my chest, lingering on my stomach before raking her nails over my thighs making me tense up. All the while she'd be flicking her tongue over my cock. She knew what she was doing.

I'd like to fuck Y when we're both a little more sober, drunken sex always ends up dirtier, but ironically less memorable too due to the booze. Things which stick for no particular reason are:

- She liked me to sit up when she sat on my cock. I had this with a girl I was seeing for a few months too. I'm not sure whether this is purely a clitoral stimulation thing (probably not otherwise surely more girls would ask me this too - maybe a female reader could offer their opinion?) or whether it's a visual thing.

- At one point I had her bent over in front of me on her knees, spreading her cheeks as I spat cold water over her ass and pussy before spanking her and unceremoniously returning my cock to it's willing place as my thumb sunk into her ass.

- She was very vocal about enjoying herself. Her neighbour actually rang the doorbell to ask us to keep the noise down.

- We woke up to banging headaches and dry mouths for both of us, and my morning glory sticking into her ass for her. As we spooned I started to slowly move my dick back and forth over her pussy lips, probably grazing her clit too. Either way it had her rummaging for the condoms in her drawer again and we got into some very athletic positions with her on top, me lifting and twisting her about with Y flexibly obliging. As she came that morning, she was not quiet. Aside from enjoying the feeling of her vaginal walls spasming around me, it amused me that I was so British that in the back of my mind I couldn't help but feel awkward that we'd be annoying her neighbours again. Not enough to not milk out as much noise as I could, but still.

I know I'm not being very visual or overly descriptive about this all, it's partially due to a drunken hazy memory - I don't wish to fill in the gaps with fantasy - but also a little down to the fact though it was good, for some reason it didn't blow my mind. I'm at a loss to reason with myself why, but it is what it is. I've not replayed this in my head when wanking since. Well, not yet anyway.

I have no dates lined up this week, and I'm not convinced my vague plans to meet up with Tassles this weekend will come to fruition. So I think I'm going to revisit an earlier encounter at some point.

Enjoy the sunshine x