Pier 39

Traci looked out over the masts of the fishing boats moored alongside Pier 39 at San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf. Darkness was falling quickly and the Transamerica Building glowed inside and out. To her right, she could barely make out one end of the Golden Gate Bridge.

She pushed a crab leg around her plate with a fork, not sure whether to put forth the effort it would take to get a mouthful of meat out of it. Her mind wasn’t on food. When she looked out the restaurant’s window once more, she didn’t see the tourists walking past or the ferry arriving from Alcatraz.

Traci could only think of Mike’s hands, her own nakedness and the two of them experiencing orgasms with wind blowing their hair in all directions.

The day had started normal enough for the 24-year-old visitor from Ohio. She had most of the day to sightsee while the friend she accompanied to the West Coast attended a conference.

Traci chose to wear a sweatshirt along with her shorts, knowing that certain stops on the “deluxe city tour” would be atop some of the city’s windiest locales. It was a warm spring day with bright sunshine, sure to offer plenty of photo opportunities.

Thirty people climbed aboard the bus on the west end of Fisherman’s Wharf. Traci watched intently as an assortment of fellow passengers shuffled past. Young, old, male and female. American, Japanese, Spanish and Chinese. It was the young, American male that caught her eye.

He seemed to be alone. And he undoubtedly was good-looking. Wind blown blonde hair fell naturally back into place as he stepped onto the bus. Muscular, tan legs extended from the bottom of his shorts.

Their eyes met briefly. Traci’s cool, gray eyes attempted to keep his attention, but the man kept walking down the aisle and out of her view. The temptation to turn and watch was very real, but she fought it successfully…this time.

At the first stop on the tour, Traci wandered aimlessly, taking several pictures of the city and the bay. With ten minutes remaining, she purposely worked her way toward the blonde man. She eventually made it to his side and smiled innocently when he looked down at her.

Nothing was said, but a comfortable smile crossed the man’s face as he turned to head back to the bus. This time Traci did look. It was worth the wait, she decided.

As she, too, got back onto the bus, she was somewhat startled to find the man seated at the window in the seat she had been occupying. Unsure of herself, she sat next to him, much more nervous than she would have expected.

He looked over. “Am I in your seat?”

Looking back on it later, she would berate herself for not having a more clever answer. “No. Not at all. I don’t care where I sit.” She convinced herself to shut up before making any further idiotic statements.

“Beautiful city, isn’t it?” he asked, peering out the window as the bus pulled away.

“Yes. Very.” Traci took the opportunity to study the man’s face more closely, liking what she saw.

“I’m Mike,” he said, looking back at her.

“Hi. I’m Traci.”

They established hometowns and careers in the short drive to the next stop. Mike clearly was the more confident of the two, something that Traci often had happen to her during first encounters. Thus, her frequent lack of second encounters.

The second stop was in the Presidio, a former military base-turned park that featured the Golden Gate Bridge at one end, the Pacific Ocean at another and beautiful parkland in between.

Traci and Mike roamed the areas together and, by the time the bus was departing, seemed destined to complete the tour as a couple. Traci would like to think her initial plotting and planning had caused it all to happen when, of course, Mike was in control the entire time. Ultimately, it would hardly matter. She was with a polite, attractive young man and she was getting more engrossed by the minute…not to mention horny.

Twin Peaks is an area of the city 900 feet above sea level that offers a panoramic view of the entire Bay area, from the Golden Gate to Oakland and beyond. This was a prolonged stop on the tour with opportunities for more photos and a snack from a nearby vendor.

Traci and Mike opened cellophane-wrapped sandwiches and found that soft drinks were necessary to wash them down. The scenery got compliments, but not the chef. In the meantime, Mike learned more about Traci’s midwestern upbringing and Traci learned about Mike’s hobbies. At least they had cycling in common.

Traci was really starting to like this guy. As in “please invite me back to your room” affection. She knew this wouldn’t happen, but what fun it was to pretend. To imagine. She sat closer every chance she had and playfully touched his arm when he made her laugh.

The stops during the third and last hour of the tour included City Hall, Union Square and Chinatown. By the time they arrived at Union Square, Mike was holding Traci’s hand comfortably. It began when he helped her get through a throng of people at an intersection, and just kind of proceeded from there. It wasn’t that Traci wouldn’t let go, but the thought crossed her mind.

The sun was setting as the bus pulled into the Fisherman’s Wharf area at the end of the tour. Traci dreaded the moment she would have to say goodbye to her new friend. The guide completed his instructions, accepted tips from those getting off the bus and Traci and Mike found themselves on the sidewalk.

“Want to spend a little time on Pier 39?” Mike asked.

Not knowing for sure what was on Pier 39, nor really caring, she quickly answered, “Yes.” They walked about a quarter mile past shops, restaurants and street musicians.

Traci soon found Pier 39 to be something right out of Disney World. More shops, eateries and congestion met them as they wound their way down the main drag. Eventually, they found a bench outside an ice cream shop and they sat down.

“I want to thank you for spending the day with me,” Mike said.

Traci blushed. “It was my pleasure, trust me.”

Mike put his hand on her leg and leaned over to kiss her. The last thing Traci remembered were his beautiful eyes approaching hers. After that, she was lost in the kiss and the taste of his lips. She placed her hand on his side, then his back as they slid closer.

When she opened her eyes again, Mike was reaching for her hand and pulling her from the bench.

“Come on,” he said.

Traci’s camera bounced into her ribs as they walked rapidly down the pier, Mike leading the way and Traci a half step behind. They passed a bakery and a hat store before turning into a very narrow, darkened alley. The couple barely squeezed between a couple huge trash bins and the wall. A few more feet and they had to duplicate their acrobatics past two more shoulder high bins.

In the dark recesses of the passageway, Mike stopped. He lifted Traci’s camera over her head and laid it gently on the ground. The girl’s heart beat wildly and her head spun. Fear, however, was not her primary feeling.

Mike stood before her. His body touched hers and, as they kissed, he pushed her back against the wall. Traci’s hands fell from his side to the wall. When she was once again steady on her feet, the hands returned to the man she wanted so bad.

She felt his hands on her ass, then inside the back of her sweatshirt. All he felt was skin…up to her shoulders. With his tongue exploring Traci’s mouth, Mike moved his hands around to her bare breasts. He cupped them and squeezed the smooth flesh before concentrating on her nipples.

Traci moaned softly as his fingers clutched the hardening nipples. She felt her sweatshirt being pulled up and she watched his head lower. With her eyes firmly shut now, she focused on the feel of his mouth and tongue on her breast. He took a little at first, then opened his mouth wide and took in all he could. Constantly, his tongue flicked across her erect nipple.

Wind blew down the alley and Traci saw Mike’s hair swirl in every direction. Her own long hair blew across her face. She let it go, indifferent to her looks at the moment.

At some point, she was conscious of his hard cock pressing against her. Instinctively, she felt for it and placed her hand on his shorts. He moved closer and allowed her to wrap it the best she could in her palm. Within seconds, Traci’s hand was inside his shorts, grasping the shaft and feeling it’s warmth.

Mike’s fingers undid Traci’s shorts and pulled down on the zipper. The shorts fell to the ground and Mike began rubbing her pussy through soft, black panties. He quickly found the opening to her vagina and pressed in. She wanted him insider her desperately, but he chose instead to move up to her clit.

Another moan escaped her as he stroked it vigorously. Between his mouth on her breast and the manipulation of her clit, she wasn’t sure how long she would last. Frantically, she dropped before him and took off his shorts. She scarcely knew what she was doing as she pulled down on his briefs and released his erect cock.

It flinched at her touch and the tip glowed a bright pink. She lightly ran her tongue over the length of the shaft before placing it in her mouth. Traci felt Mike push towards her as she began sucking and licking him. Her hands held his ass firmly as she took him deeper into her mouth.

“Get up,” she heard him say as hands touched her shoulders. She continued to watch the large cock as she stood. Then their eyes met again and the passion increased.

“Turn around.” Traci faced the wall.

His hands grasped the outside of her panties and they were pushed to her ankles. She awkwardly stepped one foot out of the shorts and panties, letting them hang from the other ankle. Then she felt his hands on her waist, pulling her from the wall.

Traci placed her palms on the cold bricks and spread her legs. The wind blew across her bare ass with a rush, exciting her even more.

For a moment, she felt nothing. Then the marvelous feel of Mike’s cock at her cunt. At first, that was all. But just as the cock moved forward, his hands were back on her waist. Now she was his. He would do whatever he wanted and she would let him.

Traci’s cunt eagerly accepted the thick cock. He felt her wetness immediately and plunged deeper. They both groaned this time as the sex began.

Mike’s hands rose to her breasts and Traci’s hand fell to her clit. They got into a rhythm quickly. Both could have cum within seconds, but they wanted it to last. Traci stroked herself slowly, while Mike began a more deliberate thrusting.

She never felt as filled as she felt with this man. She had held larger cocks in her life, but something about the way he entered her and fucked her made her complete. In the distance, a boat’s horn could be heard. And voices.

But it was Mike’s voice she listened to. The one urging her on, telling her how tight she was. She listened to the sound of his balls hitting her ass. She listened to her own moans.

She had to cum. Her fingers worked on her clit and she felt the orgasm start deep inside her body. She wanted to scream, but held it inside as her entire body shook. A few words escaped her as she climaxed, reaching back to pull Mike closer.

That was when she first felt the warm fluid entering her. It splashed against the walls of her cunt. Her own orgasm caused her to squeeze him tighter, which led to more shots of cum entering her. For what seemed like an eternity, Mike pounded into Traci and the two came together.

Traci was in the middle of her second orgasm when Mike began to soften. She finished herself with her hand and felt him pull out.

With legs weakened by the sex, she leaned against the wall. Her breaths came in quick, short spurts. Mike leaned against her, caressing her around the waist and stomach. His wet cock lay against her bare ass.

“My God. That was wonderful,” Traci said in a whisper.

A blast of wind blew her hair aside and Mike kissed her on the neck.

After dressing and spending time in each other’s arms, they walked out of the alley looking, and feeling, spent. Both knew what was coming. Mike made it easy by giving Traci his hotel and room number and begging her to call him the following day.

They kissed and he turned to leave. Traci watched as his blonde hair rose and fell with the wind. He turned a corner and was gone.

Traci broke open the last crab leg. Her tiny fork disappeared inside and emerged with a morsel of meat. She dipped it in butter and let it lay on her tongue.

She loved San Francisco.