A Random Encounter

Marshall was not ugly, exactly. And he was not fat. Well, not terribly fat. Marshall was very average. Five feet, ten inches tall. An average body; a little muscle, a little excess pudge. Average brown hair. An average-looking, slightly chubby face. At 35, Marshall had long-ago come to terms with the fact that he was... well... average. After all, aren't most people, by definition, average? So, how could it be possible that this extremely ordinary, approaching-middle aged man could find himself being led by a gorgeous, twenty-something redhead toward a bathroom blow job in "Butch's Bar and Grill?"

Moments ago he'd been standing alone in sullen silence. His eyes had been scanning the room as he miserably wondered why he seemed to be invisible to every woman there. Then, without warning, this girl appeared in front of him with her mind-blowing question.

Marshall had cocked his head and looked closer at the girl before him; taken aback by the words that had just come from her full, pouty lips. He stood transfixed by the piercing gaze of her bright green eyes as he stammered in response.

"Um... uh... Excuse me?"

The corners of her mouth turned upward in pleasure at his obvious discomfort. She leaned closer and lightly grasped his arm, the swell of her breasts just barely rubbing against his chest.

"I said, I'd like to take you into the bathroom and suck your cock."

The subtle musk of her perfume enveloped Marshall's head as she leaned into him. The touch of her fingers, the nearness of her body and the maddening, fleeting contact with her breasts brought an instant intoxication far superior to that from the six Jack and Cokes he'd consumed during the evening. He tore his eyes from hers in order to look wildly around the bar, sure he would see one of his friends pointing and laughing from across the room. It had to be a joke! Didn't it? His tongue felt huge in his suddenly-dry mouth as he tried desperately to speak without sounding like a fool.

"Do I know you?," he asked.

Her smile widened as she pressed even closer. She didn't

have

to be that close did she; this girl with hypnotic green eyes and long auburn hair? The bar was pretty crowded, but seconds ago he'd been standing alone making no human contact of any kind.

"Does it matter?," she asked, as her hand trailed down his forearm and her fingers twined with his. She turned up the power on her already radiant smile and began to move; gently leading him through the crowd and toward the back of the bar.

No, it really doesn't matter at all, he thought. All that matters is not letting go of her incredibly soft hand and maybe losing her to one of the usual loud-mouthed meatheads watching her go by. Their eyes devoured her as she passed, as hungrily as his own began to do. Her hair hung down just past her shoulders. Her bare, lightly-tanned shoulders that he so desperately wanted to run his hands over. He imagined tracing the spaghetti straps of her black top to the gentle folds of its scoop back. Dropping his gaze, he drank in the sight of her tight, round ass behind the taut fabric of an insanely brief black mini-skirt.

Long, long, long... God, he thought, do these legs ever end? Dancer's legs. Long and muscular. Legs a man could build a religion around. Legs encased in sheer, black stockings and ending in a pair of black stiletto heels. He shook his head and blinked repeatedly as his eyes did the journey in reverse. Yes, he confirmed, she was still there and she was still stunningly beautiful.

Halfway across the floor now and she turned to smile at him over her shoulder. Perfect white teeth flashed from behind those amazing, voluptuous lips. He followed meekly behind her, mind reeling at the improbable situation in which he found himself. Who

is

this girl? She can't really want to do

that

can she? Why me?

Mentally, Marshall hit himself in the head with a two-by-four; thus ending the useless speculation of his ever-unhelpful brain. It doesn't matter why this is happening, he thought; just focus on not fucking it up. Don't fuck it up. Don't fuck it up.

As this mantra reverberated through his mind, his mysterious companion made her way to a hallway in the back of the room and passed under the sign promising "Restrooms" beyond. She stopped at the first door, marked "Men," and pulled it ajar. She quickly put her head to the opening and called out,

"Anyone in here?"

A slurred, indecipherable bellow indicated that yes, there was someone occupying the men's room. Undaunted, she let the door swing shut and made her way to the next one, marked "Ladies." Not bothering to check this time, she opened the door and pulled Marshall inside behind her. He pulled his hand from the girl's and stopped abruptly; his face instantly reddening as he caught sight of the woman staring at them from across the bathroom. As she straightened from leaning over a sink and opened her mouth to speak, Marshall's companion was already breezing past her with a finger pressed to her lips. Marshall froze. The woman at the sink was clearly shocked. She looked at the redhead who was just entering the stall farthest from the entrance. She looked at Marshall who was studiously examining his shoes with his hands shoved into his jeans pockets.

The red head turned at the stall's door and hooked a finger at Marshall.

"Bring me that cock, stud," she said while grinning wickedly.

The woman at the sink stiffened, her eyes growing incredibly wide. With a look of utter disdain, she shoved past Marshall and left the room as quickly as she could.

The redhead giggled. "Lock the door," she said, "in case the prude rats us out."

Marshall stared at her blankly for a moment. Thoughts of arrest and public humiliation ran through his head. Then, he dropped his gaze from her smiling face to the delightful swell of her chest. Her top plunged in the front as well as in the back, revealing her deep cleavage and the tops of her seemingly-perfect breasts. The last thread of rational thought quickly gave up at the sight.

He spun on his heel and turned the deadbolt, testing the lock with a hard shove on the door. Satisfied, he half-ran the four steps across the room and followed her into the stall. She stood facing him as he, once again, lost his momentum. While his back was turned, she had taken off her top and draped it over the side of the stall. She stood with her hands on her hips and grinned as his eyes locked on her chest. Her full, firm breasts were unencumbered by a bra; their youthful buoyancy still more than a match for gravity. They looked to Marshall to be about a c-cup; big, but not

too

big. Each milky white globe was topped by a perfectly round aureole and hard nub of a nipple. He struggled to find words to express how he was feeling. Poetic words that would celebrate her incredible beauty and convey his deep gratitude for her attention. What he said was,

"Holy shit."

She giggled again as she reached for him. "Quite the charmer," she said as she took him by the belt and pulled him to her.

He blushed again, then marveled at his ability to do so since it seemed like every drop of blood in his body was currently racing to his groin. He gave her a little shrug and an embarrassed grin.

"I have no idea what's happening here," he said.

She tilted her head toward him, her eyes just slightly lower than his. Again, her scent washed over him as she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips across his. As she broke the kiss, he felt the tip of her tongue on the corner of his mouth. At the same time, her hands began to tug at his belt, pulling it open.

"I'm getting ready to suck your cock. That's what's happening."

She grasped the front of his jeans and pulled, deftly popping open the button fly. She pressed against him and nuzzled his neck as one hand touched his belly, then slid down inside his boxer-briefs. Her cool fingers found his hardness and quickly wrapped around it. She licked her way up his neck as she slowly began to stroke up and down his shaft.

Marshall closed his eyes and slumped against the side of the stall, no longer trusting his legs to hold him up. He turned to kiss her, but she was gone. He felt her cheek moving down his chest as she sank to her knees. She pulled away a little as she knelt, and, in one motion, tugged his jeans and shorts down to his ankles. His ridiculously hard cock bobbed in front of her face and he held his breath in anticipation. Only two women had ever seen him before, his high school girlfriend, Emily, and his ex-wife, Rachel. Both women had been virgins before dating him, so neither had been qualified to rate the size of his equipment. Having only porno actors to compare himself with, Marshall had always suffered from fears of inadequacy. So, he was greatly reassured to her the girl's quick intake of breath followed by a soft purring.

"Mmmmmm... Nice."

He groaned aloud as he felt her warm breath, followed by the first touch of her tongue. She started at his base and slowly, languidly licked up the shaft to the underside of the head. There, she paused, repeatedly flicking the tip of her tongue against that softest of skin. Moving as little as possible, he swung the stall door closed behind him, knowing he was going to need its support behind his back.

Back down the shaft she licked, then lapped gently at his sack. Her left hand held him against his belly as she leaned in to lick further. He widened his stance to accommodate her and strangled a cry when she reached the tender skin beneath his scrotum. Marshall had never really known that spot existed; let alone had a beautiful woman explore it with her tongue. His breath began to come in gasps as he sagged against the stall door and closed his eyes.

"Oh my god," he mumbled.

The girl looked up at him with her huge green eyes, watching the pleasure evident on his face and, clearly, getting off on her power over him. Her right hand encircled his shaft as the left made it's way between her legs and began a gentle, circular rubbing over her mound. Slowly, she licked her way back up over his scrotum and up the length of him. Her lips formed a perfect circle as she engulfed the head of his cock and plunged even lower.

Marshall groaned out loud and looked down to watch her take him all inside her warm, wet mouth. Her eyes locked with his as her nose met his pubic hair and pushed against his belly. Neither of his previous lovers had enjoyed oral sex, and he had never before had the experience of feeling the head of his cock pushing against the back of a woman's throat. It felt like heaven.

She slowly pulled back, her hand stroking upward to cover every inch revealed by her mouth's retreat. Then, she moved forward once more, twisting her fist around his shaft as she swallowed him anew. Back and forth she went, her head bobbing and her hand stroking up and down with it. The fingers of her other hand slipped inside her moist sex as she worked his cock faster and faster.

After only a minute of this unbelievable attention, Marshall knew he would not be able to control his passion. His hips jerked back and forth as though the sensations she gave him were an electric current. He buried his hands in her hair and threw his head back, grunting every time her lips sank back down his shaft.

"I'm going to cum," he gasped just seconds later. "I'm going to cum."

The girl only increased her pace, her head and her hand flying back and forth to urge him on.

A strangled cry escaped from his mouth as his whole body spasmed. Rope after rope of his come exploded from his cock and coated her throat. He fell back again, panting and moaning as his mind over-loaded with pleasure.

The girl gulped down his load, then pulled away. She backed up a step and dropped onto the closed lid of the toilet. She quickly hiked her skirt up above her hips, exposing her completely shaven pussy. She sank three fingers inside her wetness as her other hand cupped a breast and frantically pulled on the nipple. Marshall stood, mesmerized, and watched her. His mind reeled at the beauty of the scene before him. She plunged her fingers inside herself again and again, while her thumb brushed repeatedly across the hard nub of her clit. Her eyes closed and her breath came in gasps as she lost herself in her pleasure.

Her gasps quickly turned to intense little moans as her heart began to pound. Her face and neck turned bright red with the hot blood coursing through her. Her fingers pulled sharply at her nipples, mixing jolts of pain with the heat of her pleasure. Both hands moved faster and faster until she threw her head back and nearly howled with the fiery blast of her orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." was her mantra as her entire body quivered with ectasy.

At last, she let out a deep sigh and her hands became still. She opened her eyes and smiled up at Marshall. She giggled at the sight of him standing over her. His pants down around his ankles, a long drip of cum hanging from the end of his semi-hard cock. She smoothed down her skirt as she stood up.

"You can put him away now, sweetie."

He flushed with embarrassment and quickly bent to pull up his pants and shorts. He fumbled with his belt as she reached around him and opened the stall door. Shuffle-stepping backward, Marshall watched as she retrieved her top and slid it down over her head. He tucked his shirt back into his pants, then stood mutely as she walked to the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair. His brain was quickly starting to shut down in post-orgasmic lethargy; but he desperately fought back against it. He had to speak. Had to see her again. Had to have these unbelievable sensations again!

"Um... Wow! That, uh..."

She turned to him with a smile, crossing the room in two long strides of her magnificent legs.

"Uh, uh," she said as she placed a finger against his lips. "No names. No numbers. No second acts. We both got off and now we go our separate ways."

"No!" his mind rebelled. "Talk! Convince her! We need that to happen again! Do something!" But his body betrayed his. He remained silent and merely nodded.

She stretched up on her toes to brush a gentle kiss across his lips, then made her way to the door, opened it and walked out. By the time Marshall pulled himself together enough to follow her, she had disappeared into the crowd of the bar. Dumbstruck, but happy, he sought out his friends to tell them the greatest story of his life.