I Know Your Type

"I know your type" he said.

"Hmm, I wasn't aware I was a type." I replied.

"Oh yea. Everybody is a type."

Maybe I was getting tipsy, but I was mildly amused at his approach. It certainly was original. I thought "Let's see where this goes."

I turned up my beer and finished it off. As he motioned to the bartender to bring us another, I looked him over out of the corner of my eye. He was pretty good looking. Very tall, nice build, broad shoulders, slim waist. Dark hair, bright eyes with dark curly lashes. He probably got teased about them when he was a kid.

"So," I encouraged, "enlighten me."

"Well, I can tell that you're confident."

"How's that?"

"You're at a meat market like this without hiding in a flock." He jerked his head over, motioning at the tables full of girls. They were huddled together, not daring to venture out and make themselves available to any guy who might be interested.

"And I can tell from the way you're dressed."

I took inventory of what I was wearing. A blue tank top, well fitting jeans, and sandals. "I'm dressed confidently?" I laughed.

"Yes. You aren't dressed like a slut, but you're showing a little skin, and you know what your ass looks like in those jeans."

I did know that my jeans made my ass look good, but I felt self-conscious as he pointed it out. I hid my embarrassment by taking a long gulp. He noticed anyway and continued. "You also are confident that you look good without a lot of crap on your face. You've got that natural look, and you know you pull it off."

The truth is, I'm too lazy to mess with fixing myself up. With minimal effort, I can look presentable, so why bother? My hair is curly, so I can just wash and go, without styling it. A little eyeliner and lip gloss, and I'm done.

"Well thanks. I guess laziness works for some people." I laughed a little. The truth is, he was beginning to make me a little nervous. He was making some pretty keen observations.

He took a long drink from his bottle and set it down. I waited for him to continue, but instead, he just looked at me. It wasn't long before I began to wonder what he was thinking about. Maybe he was thinking that he had taken this game as far as he could. Maybe he was just waiting for me to talk. I decided on the latter and took a few more drinks trying to come up with something clever to say.

I finally decided on "So what type are you?"

He pondered this for a long moment, then said "I'm the type who knows what people want."

As he returned to his drink, I felt myself getting incredibly turned on. My head was spinning a little from the beer, but the warmth spreading between my legs was because of him. I uncrossed my legs and shifted a little on my barstool. He noticed and tried to hide a little smirk. I was almost offended, until I realized it was sincere pleasure. He was enjoying turning me on because he knew I was enjoying being turned on.

I decided to call him on this and once again to see where things went. "So, what do I want?"

"Oh, I don't know if you're ready for that yet. I don't want to scare you off, I'm enjoying talking to you."

"Scare me off? How's that?"

"Well, I'm pretty accurate and it tends to make some people uncomfortable. Sometimes even they don't know what they want until I tell them."

"Try me." I challenged, wondering if he would be accurate, and hoping he would be.

He turned his body to face me, and scooted his barstool closer. I was now perched between his legs, and when he leaned over to brush my hair back from my shoulder, I held my breath, hoping his fingers would brush my bare skin. They didn't, but still a shiver ran down my spine, straight to my crotch, which was getting very damp.

"Well, you're here looking for someone. But you don't want to look like you're looking for someone. That tells me that you're selective. You don't want to attract the kind of party animal/man whore that's looking for an easy lay. You want someone who is willing to work for it a little."

Okay, so far he was right. But that wasn't too hard to figure out, was it? I was sitting in the corner, not looking very available. I nodded to let him know "I'll give you that one."

"Those little girls," motioning again over his shoulder, "have no clue what it's all about, so they'll take any pretty boy that talks a good game. You're wanting a man to work for it, that means you'll have to give him an idea of what to work for. That means you are a woman who knows what you want well enough to communicate it to someone else. You know that it takes more than a pretty face and a big dick to please a real woman."

Once again, he was right. I never understood my friends' fascination with finding guys with the biggest cocks. They always seemed surprised to discover that the bigger the dick, the less the guy felt he had to do for them. There was so much more to sex than penetration, and big guys usually lack severely in every other area.

I took a long swallow of my drink as I pondered what he was saying. While it was all true, it was also vague. I was considering writing him off, but then he continued.

"You know what you want, and you don't have a problem telling someone how to give it to you. That works as far as fulfilling your physical needs. But that's only part of what you want. There's another part of you that longs to be satisfied. It's something much more important, in fact, it's what you want more than anything, yet it's almost impossible to find."

I felt my breath catch in my throat. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I turned my head slowly to look at his eyes. He was reading me like a book, and his eyes were full of understanding. But that was impossible. He couldn't possibly know, but how could he be guessing?

"It's so hard to find because you can't ask for it. That would defeat the whole purpose, wouldn't it?"

He paused his assault on my mental faculties and leaned back. He studied me as he finished off his beer. He was trying to figure out if he had gone too far. I was trying to figure that out myself.

I decided to challenge him. I would give him one shot, and that was it. Either he knew, or he didn't. "Okay, so what is it? What do I want more than anything?"

He hesitated, and my heart sunk. He didn't know.

I excused myself and went to the ladies room. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and thought "Maybe next time." I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, when I felt someone behind me. My heart jumped as I felt his fingers smooth my hair back. He leaned in close and began to kiss my neck. Not on the side, but in my favorite spot, right where my neck meets my shoulder. I slowly rolled my head to the side, and let him gently suck.

His hands found their way to my shoulders, and then stroked the length of my arms, at last intertwining his fingers with mine. He brought my hands to my waist, and began to slide them under the edge of my top. As he slowly ran them up my stomach, he switched to the other side of my neck, and kissed and sucked it.

He placed my hands on my breasts, and rolled my nipples between his fingers and mine. I was afraid it would tickle if he was too timid. But he wasn't timid, he was firm. He applied just the right amount of pressure. The tingle spread from my nipples down to my clit, which began to throb.

He backed away and I whirled around to stop him. There was no way he was leaving now. But he was only going to lock the door. I could sense what was about to happen, there was such electricity in the air. Feeling the low thumping of the music, and hearing the murmur of voices on the other side of the door, only served to heighten my excitement.

As he strode back to where I was leaning against the counter, I opened my mouth to speak. But he raised a finger to my lips. "Shhh" he whispered, "I know."

That was all it took. I was completely prepared to give myself over to him with wild abandon. I grabbed the back of his neck and drew his face close to mine. His eyes were shining, and he closed them as I placed my lips against his. I paused a moment, savoring the feel of them. They were slightly rough, and I took one in my mouth and gently began to suck on it. His tongue reached out to touch my lip, and I opened myself to him. I was so lost in his kiss, the roughness of his lips, the feel of his velvety tongue against mine, that I was hardly aware that his hands had made their way to my waist. My shirt was still raised from our hands being under it, and his fingers were cold as they caressed the small of my back, and then grasped my sides to lift me to the counter. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I was praying he would kiss my neck, then my chest, and then my stomach, and then keep going.

It was almost like magic, those lips began making their way slowly down. It was making me crazy. When he reached the top of my jeans, he paused and raised his eyes to me. I closed them, and for a split second, I wondered if I had been wrong. God, I hoped not!

I wasn't. His pause was just that, a pause. He slid his fingers around the button, and I felt the zipper being slowly dragged down. I felt my pants opening and he began to kiss all the skin he could reach before raising my ass to take them down completely.

It suddenly hit me that I was half naked in a public place, and it turned me on. Without missing a beat, I felt his lips resume their assault. On my ankles, my calves, behind my knees, inside my thighs, closer and closer. When I felt his breath on my pussy, I realized I was holding my breath and it came out in a long sigh. I was so aroused that it wouldn't take long to cum, as long as he didn't tease.

I didn't have to worry about that, though. He dove right in. A few long sweeps with his tongue, and then it was glued to my clit. He began gently sucking as he slid two fingers into my aching pussy. It was too much. After only a few strokes, I felt my orgasm building. I mentally willed him not to do it "better". I tried to tell him "Just like that. Just like that." But I didn't have to. He maintained his pace and I came.

It crashed over me like a wave. Swirls of blue and green, and that indescribable tingle that radiated from my loins. The warmth spread over my body, and I trembled. He slowly pulled his hand from where it was stroking. I tried half-heartedly to maneuver it back in, while hoping he knew what to do next. I wasn't disappointed.

I felt his fingers rubbing further down, gently pressing their way in while he continued to massage my swollen clit with his soft tongue. The first one was amazing, I could feel the length of it sliding in, and back out. So good. I held my breath as I felt the second one easing its way in. I let it out in a moan and after a few strokes, I began to rock back and forth on his hand. I felt his body raising up, and moving around slightly, taking off his jeans.

I moved my hand to continue where his tongue had been as he stood. He kept his fingers in my ass as he guided the head to my waiting pussy. He held it there a moment, long enough for us both to get a good view. He slid it in with one long stroke and paused. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of my warm softness around his smooth hardness. He pulled back, almost all the way out, and drove back in, a little rougher this time. He leaned over, pressing against me, and moved his lips over my neck. He knew exactly how to stroke me.

I closed my eyes, and was lost to everything except the feel of him. His dick, his fingers, his mouth. I felt his hand slide under my thigh, and lift my leg over his shoulder. I almost rested it there, but he continued moving it, until I had to turn my body to keep up with it. Once he had me turned around, he pulled his fingers from my ass. He pulled his hips back, until he was completely out of me. I groaned weakly and pressed back against him.

I was rewarded with the feel of his big hands spreading my cheeks apart. He lined himself up and I felt his dick pressing against the small hole. I began to rotate my hips and soon felt the head go in. It felt so good, but I wanted more. As he began to slowly make his way in, he reached around to rub my clit. It was more than I could stand.

I thrust backward, and buried him in one stroke. I loved that it was his turn to moan. I began ramming back and forth, driving him almost all the way out, before taking him in again. It felt so good, another orgasm was building inside me. This one was much bigger. I continued pounding him into my ass, slow and hard. This time when the wave hit, everything was orange and red, and I shook so hard that I almost hit my head on the mirror. He somehow managed to keep a steady pace while I came, and so I figured it was his turn to be rewarded.

I reached down between my legs and began to rub his balls as they smacked into my pussy. It was too much for him. His pace quickened and his whole body tensed. I looked in the mirror and watched him as he came. He was so beautiful. He squeezed his eyes tight, and drew in his bottom lip to chew. The muscles in his arms and chest rippled as he slammed into me one last time and I felt him cum.

We stayed like that for a moment. Neither of us daring to move, lest we break the spell. He opened his eyes, and caught me staring at him in the mirror. He smiled, a little embarrassed at the way I was admiring him. He turned me around and kissed me. It was so wonderful I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

A knock on the door sent both of us scrambling for our clothes. We were both flushed as we emerged, and several people who noticed us whispered knowingly to each other as we made our way out.

"That was what you wanted more than anything. For me to know what you wanted without you telling me. Right?"

I didn't answer him, I didn't have to. After ten years of marriage, he knows me so well.