Rocabilly Online

Spending January in San Diego is not such a bad thing. The sun still shines, though not as warmly, and the fog actually lifts earlier in the mornings than it does in June. I hadn't been back to America's Finest City since 2006, when I first left home to go to college in Northern California. My old connections and friends had long left town, most moving off to Universities of their own, or adventures, jobs and real life.

San Diego has a happening young peoples' scene, with three large universities and a couple of districts almost entirely occupied by the 20-something crowd. After seeking out some playmates in the various bar ghettos of the city, prospects for a good time were looking dim judging by the over-tanned, too-hot-for-you clientele I found most everywhere. I tried searching the internet for a random hookup, but most of my inquiries were returned by 'working girls', who I had neither the interest or budget for.

I finally decided to post a personals ad myself. I felt not a little awkward about it, after all, wasn't it a sign of desperation to be whoring oneself out online? How could I possibly meet anyone worthwhile through such an anonymous meatmarket as Craigslist?

My post went up on December 30th, just in time for the late Holiday's loneliness run that precedes the somewhat morbid specter of Valentine's Day.

---------------------------

New Years FWB-m4w-24

I'm a recent college grad, back in town for a few weeks after traveling and looking for someone to share my time with. I somewhat vainly consider myself to be an intellectual, and I value someone who is a competent conversationalist as well as a competent lover.

About me: I'm 6'1", blonde/blue, SWM, into cycling, reading, a big movie buff and a world traveler.

About you: Near my age (22-30), single, sexually open and looking for a casual fling this Winter season.

If you're interested in meeting up, let's try to arrange a coffee/beer get together, where we can see if we click and move from there.

-Geoff

---------------------------

I'd read the usual rants and raves online about what to put in a personals ad, how to not describe your cock or demand hopelessly specific physical requirements. I wasn't too fixated on finding my ideal 'dream girl' anyways, I was just looking for fun. I hoped that signing my post would be a good show of faith and might encourage someone real to respond.

The first day I got two hits. One was a sketchily written, typo ridden proposition that just sounded like a troll. The other was from a 'dating site' that wanted me to join, for the value of 9.95/month, and find 'horny hotties in my area'.

For the next three days it was total radio silence. Not a peep in my inbox, and daily I checked the ads listings, just to see if I found anyone else to respond to.

I wasn't working in town (though I was ostensibly job hunting), and took a weekend off for a little stay-cation camping trip nearby. When I got back to internet access, there was a message waiting in my inbox.

-----------------------------

Re: New Years FWB

Hi Geoff,

Saw your CL ad, it was refreshing to find someone not demand 'cum hungry sluts' and 'no fatties.' I'm a 25 y/o in PB, I work two jobs, one doing bitch work in marketing and the other waiting tables. I got my degree in Communications from SDSU two years ago, so I'm a 'competent conversationalist' as you say. If you aren't busy, I'd like to take you up on that offer to meet up for a beer. I attached my picture, but its not too revealing for privacy's sake. Send me an email if interested.

Tara

---------------------------

Simple, to the point, casual yet well written. And it was the only option, really. The picture was intriguing. It was of her face, but from the bridge of the nose to the top of the head, so it showed only two heavily mascara'd eyes, a pale forehead and jet black hair held back by a bandanna-patterned headband. I replied:

-------------------------

Tara,

I'm definitely free, Wednesday to Friday work best for me, but I can do the weekend too. What do you say about meeting at The Living Room Cafe in PB Friday?

-Geoff

------------------------

Geoff,

I work Friday night but Thursday is my day off. The Living Room sounds good, how about 5 O'clock? I'll be wearing a pink and white polka-dot headband and fishnets.

-T

----------------------

I was set. The thought of meeting a stranger for casual sex was almost too much to bear, I think I masturbated five times a day waiting for our rendezvous. Polka dots and fishnets suggested she maybe had a bit of a hipster vibe, which was cool with me. I compensated for my inherent un-hipness by actually putting in my long-neglected nose-ring and making some old jeans into cutoff jean shorts, which are oddly stylish in that crowd. It sounds lame, but I wanted to dress the part, hipsters can be snobby and if I came off too square I may not get any.

Thursday afternoon lasted an eternity. I went for a bike ride in the morning all around PB, intently people watching, trying to catch a first glimpse of my 'Tara'.

After backtracking and creepily stalking every hipster girl I saw, I went home and intently resisted beating off in excitement, I wanted to save myself and make a good impression should our meeting go well.

At four o'clock I garbed up in my hipster costume, hopped on my bike (thankfully not owning a car is cool with certain scenes), and rode down the hill towards the Pacific Beach neighborhood. I could tell I was nervous from the way my foot jiggled on the pedals every time I stopped riding. I must have made record time, because I showed up a very uncool 20 minutes early. I locked up and ducked behind the cafe to furiously chain smoke and obsessively check the time. I held out til 5:05, when I decided that fuck being fashionably late, I was ready to go.

I walked up the steps to the cafe deck, and surreptitiously scoped out the crowd. No polka dot headbands, but plenty of fishnets. When I got to the counter I couldn't remember if she'd said meet for coffee or beer, but I grabbed a Green Flash Pilsner anyways and headed back out to the smoking section.

She was sitting in the corner under a trellis of bougainvillea. She had been sitting there when I first walked up, but she must have put on the headband after I went inside, I had double checked her on my first pass, peeking over the top of her book to check for the tell-tale polka dots. But now the headband was on, and I could recognize the dyed jet black coif I had seen on my computer. For some stupid reason I checked the time on my phone one last time, and walked over.

'Uh...Hi, Tara?'

She lowered her book, Harry Potter en Espanol (geeky sexy), and smiled.

'You must be Geoff! Nice to meet you.'

She extended a pale, manicured hand with pink nail polish.Her handshake was Victorian-feminine weak, but the softness of her touch and her reading material made my little hipster heart go all a-flutter.

She was beautiful. And I'm not just saying that. It turns out my hipster estimation was correct, but off by a subculture. She was a rockabilly chick, through and through. The polka dot headband and the dyed black hair, a very pale face that was obviously made up to be even paler. Ruby red lips, ripped black band T-shirt (which I had never heard of, of course), short black skirt over black nylons and hi-top Doc Marten's. I'd often admired girls of that style before, combining beguiling feminine touches with a punk-y darkness vibe that was quite tantalizing. Sitting down I couldn't give a full go-over of her figure, but I couldn't have anyways, her eyes held me. Done up heavily, like the dark eyes in the picture, but with the faintest of silver flakes on the lashes. It could have been trashy but on her it was intoxicating. In the last two years all of my lays had been somewhat frantic, earthy affairs with other women travelers, lots of arm pit hair and unwashed ponytails, and it was remarkably breathtaking to consider being with a woman with subtle flair in her appearance.

We chatted. Simple courtesies at first, poorly executed compliments on her looks (we were here for sex, after all), but once we started to talk books it really took off. She was reading Harry Potter to work on her Spanish. She had a hard time communicating with a lot of her co-workers in the restaurant and heard that reading childrens literature was a good way to work on sentence structure and familiarity.

We tried to talk about music, but she of course was into bands I had never heard of, and I didn't want to throw myself into a tailspin by mentioning my love of bluegrass banjo, which could have been niche and cool or could have been a major turnoff.

She was laughing, and so was I. It was going well. We had one beer, then two. As we settled in to the conversation it started to feel comfortable, like we had mutual friends and had been introduced before, but had bumped into each other away from them and were spending our first time alone. After a while I rather forgot why we were there, and I thought she had too until she crushed out her smoke and grabbed by knee under the table.

'Geoff, I'm having a great time, but considering the circumstances I won't feel too forward to ask if you'd like to come see my apartment? It's just a few blocks away.'

She cocked up the side of her mouth with this, pearly teeth stood out against juicy ruby lips and one pencil blackened eyebrow arched inquisitively.

I tried to smile charmingly,

'Of course, let me grab my bike.'

I swigged down my beer and hopped up. I resisted the urge to help her up and followed her down the porch steps to the parking lot. She had walked and as I unlocked my bike we got back into the conversation we had been having about the bullshit military-town nature of San Diego and how she constantly had to deal with drunk sailors where she worked.

As we set off down the sidewalk she came up next to me and slipped her arm through my elbow, a light perfume dazed me as she leaned in and whispered.

'So what do you like in a fuck?'

I wasn't quite ready for that one and stammered for a minute, trying not to blow the obvious cool I had built up, but also wanting to be as forthright as possible, I just didn't know how dirty to be.

'I want to taste you.' I answered finally, 'I want you to buck your hips into my face as I lick you, and talk dirty, telling me how hard you want it and screaming when you get it.'

'I want it hard, can you give it to me Geoff?'

'If you can take it, I can give it, and gladly.'

'We're here.'

She lived in a generic stucco So Cal apartment complex. Cement stairs up to an outside balcony/hallway, with a toothpaste green door. When we stepped inside she threw her bag down, turned, and kissed me. Her lipstick was thick and wet, but she kissed long and deep, her soft pink tongue almost immediately began dancing over my lips the moment we touched. With a little flick she pulled back, lightly licking her lips as she stepped back from me. I tossed down my bag and stepped forward, but she held out a hand palm-first against my chest, and began to steer me, turning to my left and backwards across the room. The back of my legs hit the couch and I sat down hard. She was up above me, in a wide legged stance, smiling like a little she devil.

'I'm soaking my panties', she purred, 'but I love giving a show.'

For the first time I really drank in her figure. An hourglass, perfect, as she lifted her shirt up over her head, her thick black hair fell back in a wave across her pale shoulders. He bra was as red as her lips, with frilly white straps and a little black bow between her breasts. Lingerie. She'd come prepared. A momentary awkwardness flitted across my mind, thinking of my lame plaid boxers, but then she spun around and bent at the waist, her ass thrust up into my face. As her skirt inched up her thighs I could see the buckles and straps that led from her fishnet tights to her panties. They matched her bra, a glimpse of ruby caught my eye just under the hem before she straightened up, and I watched the muscles on her back and her spine twist and roll as she turned over her shoulder and gave me that smile again. I was dying on that couch. I strained so hard against my pants I almost shot myself right then.

She turned to face me, bent again and ran the tip of a fingernail now the ridge in my pants. I was sure my face was bright red, I felt flushed all over and was mildly panting. She reached behind and unzipped her skirt, inching it down slowly till it dropped around her ankles. She put her knees together and struck a dead-ringer pin-up pose, the outfit, the dance, and her smile made me feel like I was at some German burlesque.

Standing in her red lingerie, garters and stockings, she was a total knockout. Her large breasts were begging to be squeezed, almost squeezing themselves out of her tiny bra.

I unconsciously lifted my hands to her hips, but she lightly smacked me away.

'No touching, not yet.'

She reached up behind and unclasped her bra. Her beautiful breasts fell out across her chest, bouncy and perfect, with giant pink nipples and puffed and little, erect tips puckered with excitement. She stood there, weight on one leg, and lifted an eyebrow, like a challenge. I popped up and reached around her back her breasts pushed against me as we kissed, faster, deeper, now with little bites on the lips that got firmer when my hands slid down and grabbed her ass. I picked her up by her bottom and spun her around, she gave a little yelp and threw her head back. I dropped her down on the couch and leaned in between her spread legs. She was lightly laughing as we kissed, and purred when I started down her white neck, to the base of her throat and traced a trail between her tits. I flicked her nipples lightly with my tongue, and then took her breasts into my mouth, as much as I could get at least, while I slid my hands down further and began to unclip her panties from her stockings.

I was ravenous, I could smell her, and her taste and the smoothness of her skin, her belly down to the top of her underwear. I grabbed her panties above her ass and tugged them down, they were tight, and when I got to her feet I realized she still had her Docs on. Untangling her panties from around her boots, I knelt back and surveyed her. Black spit and polish boots, wide-webbed fishnets running up her snowy thighs to her newly revealed pussy. Her white thighs blended to pink, then dark red as they closed on her lips. She was trimmed, but a small patch of the same jet black hair (dyed as well?) pointed in a triangle from her navel to her clit.

I began my favorite part, running a hand slowly up one leg, meeting her knee with my mouth and giving slow, soft kisses, with gently licks up to her pussy. When I got to her pulsing red mound she was panting, her pubis arced upwards, seeking its pleasure. Her belly rose and fell faster, and I was vaguely aware she was squeezing her tits, rolling her nipples in her fingers as she stared at me with greedy eyes.

She had said she was wet, and she wasn't lying. Her spread legs had spread her pussy lips as well, and her little clit poked up out of the top, a light sheen coated the inside of her lips. The first flick of my tongue got a gasp. As I ran my tongue from the bottom of her pussy to her clit, in slow, deliberate strokes her hips bucked up harder and harder. I buried my face in her, kissing and sucking her clit, and flicking around and in her hole between French kissing her lips. Now sucking with my whole mouth, now letting my tongue dance lightly on just her clit. My hands groped up her sides and met hers on her breasts. She grabbed them and used me to squeeze her tits harder, pulling one hand up to her mouth where she began sucking my fingers, one by one, running her teeth across my knuckles and biting down slightly every time I changed how I was eating her.

Suddenly she had two hands on my head, pulling me up by the hair.

'Wait. I want to save it. Besides, I'm so close and we haven't even started with you.'

I didn't have the heart to tell her I feared that if she touched me I would cum immediately. I just let myself be pushed back until I rested on my haunches, but she pushed farther until I was on my ankles, and wobbled slightly as I stood.

She was up in front of me know, and positively ripped my shirt off, tearing the collar. Now my cock was straining the seams of my jeans, and she tongue-fucked my ear as we ground our hips together. In a second she was moving down, rapidly brushing her lips across my chest, with a light bite on the nipple and then down me belly to my pants. She knelt in front of me and looked up with pouty lips.

She kissed me through my jeans, suddenly wrapping her teeth around my shaft and sending a bolt of electricity up my spine.

She undid the button of my jeans, and opened my fly. She pulled off my shorts with the same abandon as my shirt, taking my boxers with them.

My cock popped to attention grazing her chin.

'Ooh, ready, are we?' She purred again. She had the Dita von Teese act down, it was driving me wild.

I was so hard my head was already showing. I'm uncut but she didn't seem to notice, and breathed hot breaths all down my shaft, holding her mouth near millimeters from my cock.

Her soft pink tongue flicked out and have my slit a little flick. My cock wagged up even higher, it was practically defying gravity and it ached so bad I had to grab my ass to keep from grabbing it.

With a couple more flicks of her tongue she moistened my head. Giggling each time I reacted with even more springiness and an almost visible blood rush down the shaft.

She licked her lips and took me in her mouth. Those beautiful red lips slid swiftly all the way to my base, I felt my head push against her silk throat, and her long slid out, out of my sight, and tickled my balls as she flexed her throat around me shaft. I was seeing stars, she pulled her head back, dragging her lips along the shaft like she had when she took me in, and then slammed her face back down to my groin. Again, again, she pumped her face down my cock, while her tongue slipped around inside her mouth, roughly rubbing me.

She reached up and grabbed my ass, gripping tight as she continued to take me in her mouth. She moved faster and faster, she angled her head so different parts of her mouth rubbed me with each thrust. One hand slipped back to my front, and she deepthroated me again, this time grabbing my balls tightly with her middle finger searching for my prostate through the skin. When she pulled me out after this time, she gently raked her teeth, ever so lightly, down the shaft until she came to the head, when she wrapped her lips around it like a Popsicle and licked it inside her mouth furiously.

It took all I could muster not to cum down her throat right then. I even tried to distract myself from cumming by sending my thoughts elsewhere, to have to leave the present moment at a time like that and contemplate baseball or some other unsexy subject was heartbreaking, but I knew we had work to do before our big finale.

With an audible pop she pulled her mouth off me, and grinning up at me licked some spit from her lips, and moaned.

'Will you feed me your cum? Will you feed this little cumslut?'

She was filthy! I gave her a light slap on the cheek.

'You need a spanking before you get your reward.'

'I'm ready. I want to be spanked.'

I pulled her up by her shoulders and kissed her again. I grabbed her ass and felt her clench in excitement, two fingers snaked between her legs and slipped into her soaking pussy.

She spun around and bent at the waist again, flexible girl. I moved forward and poked at her lips with my cock, but she straightened immediately.

'Wait. Not here.'