Spoons Shag
"A Tuesday night at the local Wetherspoons takes an unexpected turn with a thick brunette from the quiz team"
Quiz night at the local Spoons was the highlight of my week. Sad, I know. But there was something pure about arguing over which country first introduced paper money while drinking £4 pints.
Our team was shit—me, my mate Dave, and his girlfriend who only came for the free WiFi. But we tried.
The team next to us was worse. Three girls, clearly here for the social, their answer sheets filled with doodles rather than actual attempts.
The one in the middle caught my attention. Thick brunette, curves barely contained by a too-small band tee, proper fit face with big hoop earrings and lips that looked like trouble.
"What's the capital of Mongolia?" Dave asked the table.
"Ulaanbaatar," I said, still watching the girl.
"How the fuck do you know that?"
"Educated." I wasn't. I'd just been to Mongolia on a stag do. Long story.
The brunette looked up, caught me staring. Instead of looking away—like a normal person would—she grinned.
"Help us?" she mouthed, gesturing at her blank answer sheet.
I shook my head. "That's cheating."
"Please?" She pouted, actually pouted.
"Fine." I leaned over. "Ulaanbaatar."
"You're a legend." She wrote it down. "I'm Stacey."
"Ryan."
"Ryan." She tried it out. "You're fit, Ryan."
We lost the quiz. Spectacularly. But Stacey's team came second-to-last thanks to my whispered answers, so she bought me a pint as thanks.
"You didn't have to," I said.
"I wanted to." She slid into the booth next to me, our thighs touching. "Also, I'm trying to get off with you, and buying drinks seemed like a good start."
I nearly choked on my pint. "You're direct."
"Life's too short for games." She sipped her wine, looking at me over the rim. "You interested or what?"
"Definitely interested."
"Brilliant." She put down her glass. "Car park. Five minutes."
Her car was a white Ford Ka with furry dice and an air freshener shaped like a pineapple. The back seat was cramped and covered in Costa cups.
"Sorry about the mess," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "I basically live in here."
"It's fine."
"It's really not. But I don't care right now." She climbed onto my lap, kissed me hard. "Been thinking about this since you gave me Mongolia."
"That was twenty minutes ago."
"I think fast."
She pulled off her band tee—some indie group I didn't recognize—revealing a black bra straining against her tits. I reached around, unhooked it, watched them spill free.
"Like what you see?"
"Love it."
She grinned, started working at my jeans. "Good. Because you're about to see a lot more."
She climbed back, wiggled out of her jeans and knickers—more graceful than the cramped space should have allowed—and straddled me again.
"Condom's in the glove box," she said. "I'm organised."
Points for preparation.
I rolled it on while she watched, then she sank down onto me. We both groaned.
"Fuck—you're big—"
"You're tight—"
She rode me hard, the Ka rocking on its suspension. The windows fogged up, the furry dice swinging wildly.
"Touch me—need more—"
I found her clit, rubbed circles while she bounced. Her moans filled the car, probably audible outside.
"Close—so close—"
She came with a scream, her whole body shuddering. The feeling of her pulsing around me was too much.
"Cumming—"
"Yes—do it—"
I came hard, holding her tight, both of us shaking.
We sat there, catching our breath, while the windows slowly de-fogged.
"Well," Stacey said. "That was better than the quiz."
"Lower bar than you'd think."
She laughed, kissed me quickly. "Same time next week? My team needs help with the picture round too."
"Just the picture round?"
"And maybe some... additional tutoring." She winked. "I'll pick you up. Seven o'clock."
I walked back into Spoons to collect my jacket, Dave watching me with amused suspicion.
"Where'd you disappear to?"
"Extra credit."
Quiz nights just got a lot more interesting.