Mecca Bingo—not my scene, but the boys wanted somewhere with cheap drinks. I ended up next to Gemma.
She was thick, gorgeous, struggling with about fifteen cards while the numbers flew.
"Need a hand?"
"God yes. I've bought too many again."
We shared the cards, shoulders touching, her perfume filling my lungs. She was dressed up—tight dress, heels, full makeup. Like bingo was a proper night out.
"Kelly's eyes—" the caller announced.
"That's me!" She dabbed frantically. "Number 88."
"You're good at this."
"Beginner's luck." I watched her mark her cards. "Or good company."
She smiled, something shifting. "Very good company."
She didn't win. Neither did I. But the car park was dark and her Audi had tinted windows.
"Thanks for the help in there," she said, leaning against her car. "Been coming alone for months. First time someone's actually talked to me."
"Their loss."
"Yours too. If you leave now."
"I'm not leaving."
She unlocked the car, climbed in the back. I followed.
"Been wanting to do something stupid for ages," she admitted. "Divorced, lonely, spending Friday nights at bingo. This might be my rock bottom."
"Doesn't feel like rock bottom to me."
I kissed her, and she responded like she'd been starving. All that loneliness channeling into hunger.
"God yes—more—"
Her dress came up, revealing thick thighs and matching underwear. I pulled aside her knickers, found her wet.
"Please—need it—"
I buried my tongue in her. She came fast, shaking, hand over her mouth.
"Inside me—quick—"
I freed myself, slid in. She was tight, hot, moving her hips immediately.
"Harder—yes—like that—"
We fucked in her Audi, the windows fogging, neither of us caring about the car park around us.
"Gonna cum—don't stop—"
She came, clenching around me. I followed, buried deep.
We lay there, tangled, catching breath.
"Same time next Friday?" she asked.
"I'll bring my own dabber."
"Bring stamina. I've got ideas."
Best bingo night ever. Started going every week.
The boys never understood why.