"So, any of it true?"
"Maybe, maybe not."
**********
I was lit. Lit up. The phrase fit because the day was bright as shit. Brighter than real. Because that's how it is when you're just left of drunk during daylight. The world just seems brighter.
Golf, beer, more golf, more beer and now here I am. A healthy buzz during the heart of the afternoon and nothing to do. I grabbed a cold one from the fridge, walked into the bathroom, turned on the water and let it get hot. I stripped off my clothes, cracked the beer and took a swig.
I stepped into the shower and for only the umteenth time in the past hour my mind turned to sex and suddenly I was thinking booty call. Because that's how you think when you're three-quarters lit during the day. I soaped up, washed the sweat off, let the blow-up holes and the lost bucks fade away, paid special attention to my junk, and thought about sex. Easy sex. Sex without drama, sex without strings. Booty call sex. I showered and reviewed the candidates. Ran down my booty call list.
There was Kim. If anybody wears kinky boots it's a safe bet they got them from Kim. That girl was always wet, wild and willing. One time out of many I knocked on her door well after midnight and she took me in with open arms and legs. A few minutes after crossing the threshold she was lying on her stomach and I was balls deep in that sweet black ass.
On a down stroke her phone rings and at the end of her moan she picks it up and says hello. I freeze. I can't hear the other end, but Kim says, "No Reggie, you didn't wake me up." It's the guy she told me about, the one she's talking marriage with. "No, I'm not watching TV, either. I've got a big white cock in my ass, baby. Yeah, him. He's got a long, thick white cock and he's fucking my ass so
good
."
I'm stunned, but being a good sport I regroup, resume proceedings and stick my hand underneath Kim for a reach around. She says into the phone, "Oooh, he's rubbing my clit now, baby. He's rubbing my clit and fucking my ass and he's gonna make me come!"
Kim lets the phone drop onto the bed and grunts with my thrusts. She grunts and groans and tells me to fuck her ass harder and how I fill her up and that it feels so good and my fingers are rubbing her pussy and I'm fucking her harder and she screams and comes and grunts a deep moan and then goes limp.
I pick up the phone and say, "Sweet dreams, Reggie," and hang up. Kim. Damn. But she's out because she's an ER nurse and works the three to eleven shift.
Brenda? Brenda is the breathtakingly beautiful wife of a co-worker. I met her at an office party held at their place. The party was in full swing. Coolers and platters of finger food were scattered around a couple of rooms at the front of the house. I had gone back to the kitchen for something and stumbled across Brenda tending to small matters there. The lights were low. We were facing each other, leaning against the counter and talking.
She was sad and lonely and starving and desperate and let me slip my hand into the folds of her wraparound dress, down her panties and finger fuck her to an orgasm in her dimly lit kitchen while music and laughter floated back to us from the front of the house. She looked me in the eyes as she held my hand and licked my fingers.
Brenda was up for the call when she could and she and I had some good times for awhile. We even had a threesome with another woman towards the end. She broke it off shortly after that saying she and her husband needed to work on the marriage. Fuck him. He was an asshole and always would be. But it was Saturday and if they were still together then that's that.
Robin. The secretary where I used to work. The office gang went out one night to hear some music and we said our goodbyes in the parking lot afterward. The others had left and it was just Robin and me. I looked her over. Robin was big-boned, as they say. Plus sized, but not plump. I looked her over, up and down and said, "You're coming with me."
She looked back at me through her retro, oversized glasses and simply said, "Okay." So I took her home and fucked her. First time I ever saw inverted nipples and they were
awesome
.
The next day she wanted to go out for drinks after work and talk. Turns out that Robin was engaged to be married to her childhood sweetheart, but wouldn't mind getting together with me some more. She'd led a sheltered life and had only been with her fiancΓ© a few times. In so many words Robin conveyed to me she wanted to get a bit more of the big wide world under her belt before she locked down her pussy in the name of marriage and family.
On a whim I told her if she really wanted me to fuck her then she had to go to the bathroom, take off all her underclothes, everything, and come back to the table. I could see her full breasts sway and her ass jiggle under her rayon dress as she returned to the table in front of all those people who couldn't care less. We had a couple of more drinks and I enjoyed her shimmy and shake under that thin covering. The constant blush on her face was endearing. Finally, I smiled, took her hand and said, "Come with me."
Over the course of the next few weeks I taught her a few things. I taught her how to take a face-fuck like a pro. I taught her how to beg for and earn a pearl necklace. I taught her how to give a blowjob that would keep her husband-to-be home on Saturday night. I taught her how to love taking thick cock deep in her ass so if her husband ever got around to it or when she hinted and made it happen she could relax and enjoy the ride. I taught her how to kneel and to look up and open her mouth like a baby bird to receive a man's cum. I taught her how to snap her hips just so just then to make her husband blow his mind and fall in love all over again. Robin was a quick learner and eager student and all-in-all smoking hot in the sack.
After Robin returned to work from her honeymoon in Jamaica I passed her desk. She said, "Hey, Mark," raised her hand, wiggled her ring finger and winked. I laughed and blew her a kiss. Hell of a gal, but she's married so she's off the list. I couldn't help but think of her, though.
Carrie! Of course! She even lived in the same apartment complex as me. Must be the buzz why I hadn't though of Carrie first. She'd recently moved in and we'd talked a couple of times in the parking lot, but neither of had pushed anything yet.
Just before school let out our senior year of high school we took lifeguard lessons together. Carrie was a skinny little colt in a bikini. During breaks, while the others were goofing around in the deep end Carrie and I sat on the steps in the shallow end and talked. She'd lean back on me and make teasing comments about me being comfortable and did I need to adjust anything. And we'd touch, too. She had a boyfriend, but those were my fingers under her bathing suit deep in her pussy in the shallow end of the pool.
For some reason or other we never got the chance to be together after the lessons, but a year after college I was bartending to supplement my full-time job and in walks Carrie. She spots me, sits down at the bar and we chat and flirt and set up a dinner date before she went on to have dinner with a girlfriend.
A few nights later Carrie and I ate at a popular, inexpensive restaurant. She sat on a bench and I took the chair. Neon signs and musical instruments covered the walls. The tables were close together, not even three feet apart. To my left were two women in their thirties, it looked like, drinking margaritas and eating salads. On my right were two college students, frat guys from my read, drinking beer and eating burgers.
Small talk throughout, but near the end of the meal Carrie starts talking about friends and lovers. Carrie looked me in the eyes and told me how she believed that a friend could be a lover and a lover could be a friend. How you didn't have to be boyfriend and girlfriend, didn't have to be committed to each other, but could just be friends. And lovers. I called for the check.
On my left, the woman sitting on the bench looked at me with an arched eyebrow and a hint of an approving smile, the woman in the chair wore slightly pursed lips and the whiff of disapproval. The frat boys' jaws were simply hanging open listening to this beautiful blonde tell me in so many words that she wanted to fuck me. I gave the ladies and gents a courteous smile and a humble shrug as we left.
Moments after entering the townhouse Carrie lived in, with her boyfriend, who was away on business she said, I learned firsthand that she never wore panties and then we were fucking on a big leather couch in front of a big bay window. No curtains and a clear view to the show if anyone happened to glance our way. Amazing. Carrie and I called each other to hookup a few more times and we had our fun, but life happens and we drifted.
Carrie was perfect. She was lovely, creative, loved sex, and wasn't shy. She fucked a lot of guys is my guess, but I never put her in the slut category. She didn't have Daddy issues, had never been abused, had good self-esteem and wasn't desperate to please and didn't crave approval. I figured she was simply a sexual being, embraced her sexuality and fucked her way through life like a lot of guys try to do.
I finished my shower, killed the beer, got groomed and got dressed. I walked outside. The world was still too fucking bright and since I forgot my sunglasses I squinted during the walk to Carrie's apartment. Her car was there so I crossed my fingers for luck. I climbed the stairs, knocked on her door and she opened it.
"Hi Carrie." I gave her my lady-killer smile. I figured she couldn't resist the wattage and would be flat on her back in no time.
"Hey, Mark! What's up."
"Nothing. I'm at loose ends. Thought I'd stop by for a visit if you're not doing anything." I smiled.
"Yeah. Come on in." She giggled and said, "You're drunk!" as I passed her.
"A little. Played golf today." She hadn't disrobed, yet. I thought I might have to try a different approach.
"What the hell. May as well get me a beer. Want one?"