Authors note: This series is a prequel to "From Cheating to Swinging" series, which I hope you also enjoyed.
Cassie was hot to trot the night we met at the singles' bar. It was one of those joints people go to meet someone to put the meat into, or someone to put it into you. She wasn't wearing any underwear that night although I didn't know it until we got to her place. We went through the standard getting acquainted ritual on the dance floor -- the exchange of names, interests, jobs, hometowns. I'm an accountant; she had just gotten her first teaching job. Bar meeting conversations take place on two levels, verbal and nonverbal. The nonverbal usually is on totally different subjects than the verbal. In our case, the subject was sex, where and how soon. We were out the door twenty minutes after we said hello.
Her tits were huge, at least 38Ds. She was sorta on the short side; her head came to my shoulders. I'm not exceptionally tall, six foot even. Her build was on the slender side which made her breasts appear even larger. Her flaxen hair hanged straight down to her waist. She had deep blue eyes, high cheek bones, and an infectious smile that was impossible to resist. It certainly was for me.
We went to her apartment. It reminded me of my own first apartment, but with feminine frills. The basic décor was early thrift shop. Very little furniture matched. The dining room tabletop was a different color from the chairs. The bed probably came from her room in her parents' house. As long as it supported two people, I didn't care where she got it.
Cassie was out of her clothes half a minute after the door closed. The slowest part of her undressing was undoing all the buttons on her blouse. When she was completely naked, she began working on my clothes. I had only gotten my suit jacket and tie off. She opened my belt buckle while I took my shirt off. A minute later I was totally divested of my suit. Taking me by the hand, she led me to the bedroom and shoved me onto the bed.
Immediately she began kissing me. Her legs straddled my hips. My dick rested against her slit. Her lips were all over my face, my neck, my shoulders. I attempted to slow her down, but she was insatiable. I'd had one-night stands before, and a lot of quickies, but Cassie was a racehorse chomping at the bit. She kissed her way down my chest and belly to my cock within a couple minutes. Her speed was such that I had a difficult time becoming aroused. It wasn't until she sucked my prick that I could begin to achieve an erection. "What's the matter?" she taunted me. "Am I too much woman for you to handle?"
"What's your hurry?" I asked. "Is your father due home any minute?"
She froze for an instant, then giggled. "My roommate and I are having a contest to see who can pick up and fuck the most men between eight and midnight."
"Who's ahead?"
"I am...." I heard the apartment door open and close. "...by five minutes. Let's hurry up. I don't want to lose my lead." She sat herself on my boner.
"What does the winner get?"
"The loser does the housekeeping for the next week."
I began pumping her puss as fast as I could. She didn't seem to be interested in whether she had an orgasm, just in getting me to cum so she could rush out and get another man. Ordinarily I preferred to have a girl to myself for the night, but somehow the idea of sharing her appealed to me.
Her breathing became deep and quick as I thrust in and out if her box with abandon. My own breathing rate matched hers. She rocked her hips back and forth while my butt bounced on the bed. My nuts began to tighten, and her pussy muscles gripped my pecker. Both of us reached the brink at the same moment. My sperm raced up through my shaft into her womb.
A minute later Cassie hopped off the bed and dashed to the bathroom to wash up. I looked at my watch; it was ten-thirty. I wondered how many men she had already fucked that night and how many more she could screw in the next hour and a half. I had known her for less than an hour, but I was hoping she would win the silly contest with her roommate. I began to dress in order to minimize the time to get her back to the bar after I had finished in the bathroom. I had my shirt and tie and shoes and socks on when she came out. I dashed in and quickly wiped my cock with a cloth. She had my shorts and pants laid out on the bed when I came out. Without bothering to put on my shorts, I pulled my pants on and grabbed my suit jacket. We were in my car enroute back to the club within five minutes of climaxing.
"Thank you for hurrying," she said as we pulled away from the curb. "You've given me a pretty good lead."
"She didn't see me," I said. "You could pick me up again and she wouldn't know the difference."
"That would be cheating," she said, "although it is a tempting idea. You're the only one I've cum with so far."
"Do you do this often?"
"Every Friday night. She won the last two weeks in a row. That's why I'm not wearing any underwear. I figure that gives me a tiny advantage."
"You certainly got my attention, although I think I would have been attracted to you anyway."
"Why?"
"Your smile for one thing, plus I love blue eyes."
"You're sweet. Maybe I should pick you up again."
"You'd better stick to guys who've struck out so far. They will be easier to get off. I'm still in the recovery phase. I won't be useful for another hour."
"On the other hand, you haven't been drinking. To cheat or not to cheat, that is the question."
Luckily there was an empty parking space in front of the bar's door. I got out and opened her door for her. As I opened the lounge door, I stopped her. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"
"If I lose, I'll be doing dishes and laundry."
