I angled my phone snapping the photo quickly, hoping no-one would try the door. I’d used doorstop from the fire-door to wedge it shut but you never knew. I tucked my tits back into my bra, and pulled my shirt back on as I went over and kicked the wedge from under the door. I moved back to the sinks and picked up my phone, sending Ben the photo I just snapped before glancing in the mirror and smoothing my hair. We’d been here a few hours watching the rugby, and the first half of the England game had been a bit of a washout. Hardly any points on the board and no real pushes. It was a boring game but both sides field some lovely specimens of manhood, and watching rugby always tends to rev my engine so feeling a bit naughty I’d had the photo idea. I stopped at the bar on my way back to the table and as soon as I put his pint down in front of him I knew he’d opened my message. It was the way his eyes focussed on my chest as he shifted in his seat, I grinned at him as I sat down, then pointed at the big screen, “Perfect timing, second half is just starting.”
I sat down and Ben put his hand on my knee, sliding it under my skirt to caress my thigh. The pub was busy, every table full but no-one noticed, every eye was fixed on the screen. He moved his hand so his fingertips brushed the sensitive place on my inner thigh, and my nipples immediately hardened. I saw his eyes flick from the screen to see my response, and he reached past me shifting my drink onto a beer-mat and allowing his fingers to brush a nipple as he sat back, his other hand still stroking my thigh, moving higher with each stroke. He opened his hand spreading his fingers and pushing my thighs as apart as my skirt would let them go, the table hiding most of his movement.He worked his hand further up my thigh, and as his thumb brushed the spot where my panties would be he turned his head to look at me. I grinned but kept my face fixed on the screen, watching as the English forward broke away from Ireland’s defence and made a run for the line. He squeezed the top of my thigh letting his thumb brush over my lips, gently running along the slit without pushing in between.
I shifted in my seat, trying to keep my focus on the match while he continued to tease me, his fingers squeezing my thigh and his thumb stroked my lips. I could feel myself getting wetter but I tried hard not to shift in my seat, not wanting to draw attention knowing that at any moment someone could look over and see. When England broke away again and the crowd around me leapt to their feet I yelled along knowing I couldn’t stand up, and Ben took the opportunity to let his thumb slip between my lips brushing over my clit and letting a finger slide along the slit spreading my wetness. As England crossed the line my gasp was lost in the crowds yells and I bit my lip, holding back a moan as Ben circled my clit with his thumb, and slipped two fingers into me. He worked my clit, letting the rocking motion slide his fingers into me, a slow thrusting movement wasn’t too obvious. My hand clenched my pint but I didn’t try to pick it up, and when I glanced at Ben he was grinning at the screen. He kept up the slow teasing until I was dripping around his fingers, I was starting to worry there would be a wet patch on my skirt when I stood up but I was so turned on I didn’t really care. When England pushed forward again near the end of the second half and everyone was on their feet again, he took the opportunity to thrust his fingers harder, while his thumb massaged my clit. I could feel myself losing control as he pushed me towards the edge and when England scored everyone started cheering and I yelled as I came around his fingers. He slipped them easily out of me and I moaned, a quiet disappointed sound.
Ben turned meeting my eye as he brought his hand to his mouth and purposely licked each finger. Then he put his arm across the back of my chair, stroking my neck before resting his hand on my shoulder. I let my hand slide over his leg, grazing his cock which is pushing at the fabric of his jeans. I am still feeling horny, my cunt still throbbing and dripping, and I press my legs together in an effort to stop the heat and wetness. As the clock hits full-time Ben stands up, grabbing my hand and tugging me to my feet, he speaks to the guys at the next table dropping my coat across our chairs, they nod glancing over but focussed on the end of the match. He heads towards the bathrooms but when we get there he goes past them and slips out the fire door, sliding the wedge in to stop it closing behind us.
We’re standing in the alley behind the pub there’s a steel door blocking the entrance from the street and no-one comes out here until they throw the trash at the end of the night. It’s not quite dark yet so Ben moves me behind the door, pinning me against the wall as he kisses me. Me hands fumble at his waist, unfastening his jeans and wrapping my hand around his cock, freeing it so it can stand up. I stroke it as he kisses my neck, pushing the neck of my shirt to one side and biting my shoulder as he slides his hand up my skirt. I stroke his cock faster, and when he slips a finger into me I moan wanting more. I let go of his cock and move my hands to his shoulders, stretching up to whisper in his ear, “Please fuck me.” He groans pushing my skirt up as he bends slightly, then he’s thrusting into me. My feet find the step behind me and I move, leaning back against the wall as he pushes into me again. The entire second half was basically foreplay so it doesn’t take long before I’m coming again, tightening around his cock, and dragging him over the edge with me. As we come he kisses me smothering my cry of release, and we stay standing there for a moment, leaning against each other, his cock still in me. When he straightens I reach down tucking him back into his jeans and buttoning them up, as he straightens my skirt.
Back inside he heads to the bar while I stop in the bathroom, after washing my hands I block the door and snap another picture. After all, there’s still another match to go.