On Friday night I go hunting. Not shooting animals but snaring women.

I have five bars that I go to, I chose a different one each week. The bars are chosen by me because of their clientele. They have dancing, which attracts women, they do not allow large parties of men, which cuts down any rowdiness and fighting. They attract couples and gooseberries and groups of women out celebrating. These are perfect hunting grounds for me.

Tonight I am at The George, large area not too crowded, lots of people having drinks, conversations and will shortly start dancing. I have slipped the security guy 20. There isn’t a queue tonight but if I need to be a VIP another time, then I have a friend.

I stand at one end of the bar, most people are sitting down and there is only one group standing up. These are my targets for tonight. Two older women and four younger women. I check them out and guess that it is some kind of mother daughter thing, maybe a birthday drink. They are chatting away to each other and look happy.

The woman behind the bar comes to serve me. I order a gin and tonic, which I will drink very slowly and two bottles of Prosecco for the group of women. I give the woman serving a very large tip and hand her my card. I run my own business, she can throw the card away or phone me up some time. Her choice.

I am not handsome. I am average height and I look fit because I keep myself fit. I dress very well and my car is top of the range. Any one looking at me will see that I am wealthy and fit.

That is usually enough.

The women are delighted with the Prosecco, they are confused initially but the server explains that I have paid for it. They look at me and nodded their thanks. No one comes over to speak to me. That’s how it works. They have to assess me, decide if I am dangerous. The older ones have to protect the younger ones. The older ones probably know my type and are wary of me. They have to balance being polite and thanking me with being careful and keeping me away. I have played this game many times. I am watching and waiting.

The music starts and lots of people get up to dance, mostly women, and an influx of men come to the bar for refills. My group of six women divides. The younger ones go to dance, the two older women stay at the bar. They are on guard. They watch the younger ones, ready to step in if they see any trouble, they are guarding coats and handbags and they are watching the drinks, making sure nobody tampers with them. I am impressed.

I sip my drink, perfectly relaxed. The younger ones come back and on of the older women comes toward me. This is how it works.

“Thank you for the drink.”

“That’s my pleasure, would you all like another bottle or two?”

“No, we could not possibly take any more from you.”

“Don’t worry about that, I have more money than I know what to do with.”

And I turn to the bar and order two more bottles.

My new friend is overwhelmed.

“That’s very generous of you. I am not used to such things. Why are you doing this?”

“Do you want me to give you all sorts of bullshit or do you want the truth?”

“The truth please.”

“OK, my plan is to take you back to my house and fuck you.”

She is startled, she might have a general idea of what I was after, but she didn’t expect to hear it so bluntly.

She puts her hand to her mouth and walks away from me, going back to her group.

She and the other older woman have a heated whispering discussion. They keep looking at me, worrying that I am going to approach them and make a scene. I stand and smile at them. I know the process they are going through. Initially they are shocked, then they calm down and check me out. They know I have money, they know I can give them a good time, and they know what I expect in return. I wait, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

Unexpectedly, one of the younger women joins in the conversation. She listens to the older ones. She stares at me several times. Then walks in my direction.

“How dare you!”

She is angry.

“How dare I do what?”

“Tell my mother you want to………”

She can’t quite bring herself to say the word, shape the act.

“I told your mother what my plan was. I am not forcing her or any of you to come with me. It’s completely your choice.”

She stomps back to the group and they start the discussion again.

Now all six of them are in the discussion. Every so often one will turn to look at me.

I now work on my next move. I finish my drink. I get ready to leave.

The women are keeping an eye on me and they see what is happening. The server comes to refill my drink but I thank her and say I am on my way. I tell her that I hope she phones me when she has time. And I walk out the door.

I stop outside and talk to the security guys, we are not saying anything important but we are all “customer facing”, so know how to have a nebulous conversation. The door opens behind me.

It is the older woman who I spoke to first.

She is carrying her coat and has her handbag.

Good signs for a hunter! It looks like my prey has succumbed.

I ignore her and start walking towards my car. She hurries to catch up with me. I always park away from the bar, the police watch for drink drivers, and I prefer to avoid them.

I have walked about 400 yards before I stop and let her catch me up. She actually bumps into me she has been walking so fast.

I stand and wait.

“You know what you said. Did you mean it?”

“Of course, if you come with me I will fuck you.”

She is still unsure.

“What about afterwards, is your husband going to get annoyed?”

She is lost. She wants to come with me, she wants the excitement, but she hasn’t thought through all the potential consequences.

“How do you know I am married?”

I point to her wedding ring, silly question for her to ask.

“And what about your wife?”

I smile, I am going to take her out of her comfort zone even further now.

“My wife is at home waiting for us. She might watch or join in.”

I watch her processing this new information. She displays an amazing collection of facial expressions and I should have filmed them.

“My wife is submissive, she expects me to humiliate her among other things.”

“Other things?”

“Yes, she likes me to use her for rough sex.”

My new friend has stopped moving, is standing perfectly still. It is all too much for her. Information overload.

“Do you want to go back to the pub with your friends or shall I give you a lift home to your house?”

“Can you take me to my house please.”

She gives me her address. We finish walking to my car. She gasps. Very upmarket, very comfortable. Out of her zone again. I helped her into the passenger seat and fasten her seatbelt, so that she gets used to me being very close to her. As I step back I ran the back of my hand over her breasts. Her nipples are hard, I can feel them even through the dress and bra.

I switch on the engine and drive to the end of the street. There is no traffic so I stop.

“Take off your panties.”

She looks at me, shrugs and starts to wriggle round in her seat. She takes them off and hands them to me. They are damp.

“Has all this got you excited?”

She nods her head, yes, she is excited.

“Pull your dress up higher.”

She obeys but stops at the top of her thighs. I reach out and push it up further, so I can see. I run my hand over her, she is wet.

I drive her home, she has been good and not moved, her whole lower body is on display, but it is unlikely anyone will see us. I park outside her house. I push my seat back and unzip my pants.

She turns to look at me, horrified expression on her face. I smile at her.

“Perhaps your husband will come out and watch?”

Now she has to make a decision. Does she get out of the car or does she give me a blowjob?

I start to wank, patiently waiting. She is watching me and sees that I am now stiff.

She undoes her seat belt. Now she has to choose. She leans forward and takes my cock in her mouth. I move my hand to the back of her head, forcing her down lower. She is inexperienced, but she can learn. I will give her plenty of practice.

She manages to get me off and I shoot my load in her mouth. She chokes, swallows, dribbles and coughs. I am still holding her down and keep her there for a while. I look around for anyone but the street is empty. I release my grip and let her raise herself up.

“I will collect you from here tomorrow at 10 am. Be ready.”

She can see from my expression that I am telling her, there are no grounds for her to argue.

She nods her head in acceptance, gets out the car and walks to her front door.

She turns and looks back at me. I blow her a kiss.

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