Pregnant and pissed part 1

It was Friday morning and the bar already smelled of sweat, warm beer, and broken promises. I was leaning on the bar, with my third beer in hand, when he stood next to me without asking permission. Tall, with a three-day beard, a tight black t-shirt that accentuated everything it had to accentuate. He didn't say anything at first, just glanced at me sideways while ordering a double whiskey.

"You're also waiting for something to happen, aren't you?" he asked with a deep voice, straightforward.

I didn't respond with words. I just lowered my gaze for a second to his crotch, then back to his eyes. He smiled sideways, in a way that said "I know what you want and I'm not going to make you beg much".

Half an hour later, we were in the men's bathroom at the back, the one that always smells of bleach and old sex. He locked the latch with his elbow while I was already unzipping my jeans without being asked. There were no long kisses or gentle caresses; we left that for those who still believe in romance.

He turned me to face the wall, cold tile on my cheek. He spat on his hand, opened me with two quick fingers, and then came in directly. He entered with a long thrust, without pause, until his balls hit me. I groaned louder than I intended. He let out a low laugh against my nape.

"Like that, little slut... let me hear you."

He fucked me with a rhythm of someone in a hurry but knows they'll last long enough. Each thrust lifted me onto my tiptoes. One of his hands grasped my hip, the other covered my mouth for a while, then went down to pinch my nipple until it hurt good. I could only pant against his fingers and push back for him to go in deeper.

Suddenly, he stopped inside, completely buried. I felt him getting even harder, that thick pulsation that warns.

"Don't move," he ordered.

And then I felt it: first, a liquid heat, slow, that started to fill me from the inside while he was still inside. He came while fucking me slowly, almost with perverse tenderness. The hot stream mixed with the sweat, slid down my thighs, reached the floor in puddles that reflected the dirty light of the fluorescent. He didn't stop pushing, short but deep, as if he wanted to get his piss even deeper inside me.

"Damn... you take it so well," he whispered, hoarse voice. "I'm going to leave you dripping from both sides."

When he finished emptying himself inside, he pulled out slowly, letting the rest of the stream fall onto my crack, hot and abundant. He turned me around, put me on my knees without ceremony. I was still dripping when he put his cock in my mouth to clean it. It tasted like him, like me, like piss and raw sex. I sucked until it started to harden again.

Before opening the door, he looked me up and down, drenched, with a red face and swollen lips.

"Room 312 at the hotel across the street. Half an hour. Come with a clean ass... this time I want to piss on ...