Jacob
My divorce had been a painful one, my wife of just one year who I had married right out of college leaving me for another man who she preferred as being more "macho". She said I was too "sensitive" and not the "take charge" dominant kind of guy she really wanted. It left me lonely and hurting at the age of twenty-three, looking for love. Like so many in these times I turned to online dating. I settled on a website for those who had lost spouses or lovers through divorce, break-up or bereavement.
I wasn't ashamed of the kind of man I was and am and I created my profile accordingly, portraying myself as gentle and sensitive and as an unselfish and caring lover. And, if I do say so myself, I'm not hard to look at, taller than average, trim and fit, dark hair, deep blue eyes and not unhandsome.
I put myself out there and waited. There were a few hits on my profile early on and some brief flirtations I initiated myself, but I found the women shallow and superficial.
Then one day Marla dropped out of cyberspace and into my life. She was 15 years my senior but somehow, we clicked. She had short reddish-brown hair, big deep green eyes, and was a bit full of figure according to her profile. Her face was strong featured, not attractive in the conventional sense but her full, sensuous lips, strong chin, those eyes and her proud, "this is me, take it or leave it" expression intrigued me. And, as it happened she lived nearby, though she didn't tell me where.
We began to communicate. She was opinionated and strong willed, but I liked that, and she was also very smart and funny. I checked out feedback on her from other male users of the site and they labeled her "bitch" and "ballbuster." Beneath her tough exterior there seemed to be a very sensitive and vulnerable person, not unlike myself. She had been widowed several years ago, the husband she loved dearly killed by a drunken driver. Finally, she had healed enough to look for love again.
I took to fantasizing about her, visualizing her naked body and making love to it. But I felt a bit intimidated by her and was afraid to propose meeting in person. True to form it was she who proposed it.
We arranged a meeting at a restaurant we both knew. I would sit in a corner table waiting for her at seven o'clock on a Friday evening in July. I took an Uber to the restaurant. The day had been hot, and I wore shorts, golf shirt and sandals. The early evening air was still sultry.
My table was by a window with a view of the entrance. A nondescript car drove up, apparently another Uber and she emerged from it and walked toward the door. She was dressed for the heat as well, tight red tank top, khaki shorts, sandals. I could see she was on the tall side, indeed full of figure, but in a shapely, voluptuous way. I lost sight of her as she entered the foyer, but she came through it, looked in my direction, saw me, and smiled as she approached.
Her stride was firm and purposeful, graceful, hinting at athleticism. She held her head high, shoulders back, making her big firm breasts jut out. They jiggled slightly as she walked, suggesting she wore no bra. Her waist narrowed pleasingly, and her hips swelled to lovely curvature. Strong, hefty thighs tapered to slim muscular calves. The pictures on the website had not done her face justice and had, above all, not caught the glimmering highlights in her hair or the sparkle in her eyes.
She drew near and my guess at her being braless was confirmed by her nipples showing bold and protuberant from the chill of the air conditioning. I was smitten. She held out her hand in greeting. I took it, trying hard to conceal my trembling. And, my cock swelled in my shorts and would not subside.
"Hello, I'm Marla."
"I'm Jake, so happy to meet you at last!"
I ordered drinks, double strong margaritas at her behest, and we fell to small talk first. After the second marg the alcohol and our empty stomachs combined to loosen us up and there was much double entendre and then some outright raunchy talk. She playfully urged me to brag up my sexual prowess and size, but I demurred for the most part, preferring to be honest.
"You would find out soon enough I'm just average." I laughed. "What I can't do with my cock I have to make up for with my tongue."
Indeed, one of the few things about me my wife had continued to like was my skills at cunnilingus. She would force me to perform it for her but once I had satisfied her she would push me away with scorn and call me a perverted wimp. Marla looked at me pointedly with a gleam in her eyes.
"I expect head, insist upon it in fact. As for your cock, the lack of size is not disqualifying. I have a way of getting what I want from a man regardless."
Her bold assertiveness took me back and I changed the subject by suggesting we order dinner. She took charge and ordered two bone-in ribeyes, rare, without consulting me and two more margs, this time triple strong.
The steak and potatoes helped take the edge off the effect of the drinks but still we were both pretty lit by the time we finished. She took out her phone and summoned an Uber, again without consulting me. She took my hand and all but pulled me to my feet to follow her to the exit. On the way to the door it was all I could do to conceal the bulge in my shorts. She looked back at me, then down, saw it and giggled. We waited out front for the few minutes it took for the car to arrive. She stood in front of me, facing away with her shapely behind against my groin, both concealing and aggravating my arousal. It was clear we were going to her place.
On the drive she pressed me backward and lay on top of me, shamelessly making out, invading my mouth with her tongue. The car stopped at our destination and I had no clue where it was. She lay on top of me, pinning me down and took a garage door remote from her pocket. She pushed to button and told the driver to pull inside. We got out of the car, the driver backed out, the garage door came down and I knew not where I was.
