Savannah was having serious second doubts; and thirds and fourths. After a long day of tracking down a P.I. to help her with her problem, she'd gone to the local watering hole, known affectionately to the natives as The Take Out. Apparently, it was the place to go to let off steam, and maybe if you were lucky, get laid. Sounded like a winner to her; she really needed to let loose. Dressed down in tight shorts, tee and boots that came just above her knee, it didn't take long for one Sean Tripp to make tracks in her direction. A few beers, some hot kisses and a round of Tequila later, they were now headed for his buddy's apartment ("don't worry, he works swing and he'll be out like a light") in a taxi.
The matter giving Savannah serious pause was the fumbling nature of caresses she was receiving. Sure, the road wasn't very well paved and there were lots of quick turns interspersed, but as they passed a street light Savannah recognized the glazed look in Sean's eyes. Still, perhaps once they were in the apartment he'd come alive. Twenty minutes later all hope vanished. Sean lay face down on the unmade bed, snoring loudly enough to rival a 747. With a snort of disgust she put her tee back on; he hadn't even managed to open her bra before passing out.
She remembered Sean mentioning his buddy, and how he was probably dead to the world, so quietly tip-toed her way out of Sean's room. Peering intently through the dark of the hallway she noticed the door to the opposite bedroom was open, and feeling mildly curious about this "buddy", took a peek inside. Sprawled across the bed, right leg crooked at the knee, sheets tangled around his torso, Sean's buddy slept, unaware of her presence. Fishing her brain wildly, the name Sam popped up. His buddy's name was Sam, Sam Dunham.
She made a visual inventory of his body, taking in the rustled brown hair, lean torso and limbs; the sheet, disappointingly, hid his package. Boldly she slipped into the room and quietly closed the door. She just had to take a gander; no harm in that, right? As carefully as possible she parted the folds of sheet over his groin. Even soft he was impressive; not huge, really, but she estimated that when aroused he could measure a nice seven, seven and a half, maybe. Savannah inhaled his musky scent and nearly moaned. She really, really needed fucked. Really. Debating a mere thirty seconds, she decided to risk it. Perhaps Sam wouldn't mind waking up to a soft, warm and willing body after a hard day's work. Even so, this could take some finessing.
She quickly shed her shorts and tee, for now leaving the matching bra & thong and her boots on. She'd leave those for him to take off, if he chose. She strategized briefly before deciding to start with his cock. No point in wasting time, and if he woke up with a woody he might be more inclined to follow through. She slowly eased her self in position between his legs and began. Delicately she ran the flat of her tongue from the base of his cock to the tip. If he woke up now she stood little chance of seducing him, so kept her movements slow and gentle at first. After a few minutes his cock started to twitch against her tongue; emboldened now she sucked the head of his cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head over and over. A soft moan escaped from Sam's throat, but he didn't wake up. More boldly, she bobbed on his dick, taking more and more into her mouth. It contracted and then began to swell. The movement triggered a similar response in Savannah; she felt her clit tighten and her juices flow. His legs stirred. She stopped.
She looked up in time to see Sam's head move on the pillow, and then stop. Very carefully she resumed her ministrations; he was only half-way hard. The taste of him started to seep into her consciousness and she couldn't help the little moan that escaped. She reached back with one hand and peeled her thong down her legs and tossed them aside. Expertly she did the same with her bra. The boots could stay. She was too impatient to wait for him now.
Savannah pulled harder and harder on his dick; perhaps too hard, for at that moment he woke up. Half sitting, half confused and half aroused, Sam peered groggily through the gloom and nearly yelped. A blonde, and thankfully female, head bobbed on his dick.
"What the fuck?" he rasped.
Savannah stilled her movements took her mouth off his dick and looked pleadingly up at him.
"Uhm, your friend, Sean; well, he fell asleep before we could, well, you know" she stammered, then tried again. "The fucker fell asleep, passed out. I saw your door was open and, well..."
"Shit!" The expletive echoed loudly in the room and Savannah nervously looked over shoulder to make sure Sean hadn't heard.
"Sshhh, you'll wake him up."
"Whoa, what the fuck? I'm not gonna screw Sean's girl, man; no way."
So saying he tried to dislodge her from the bed but only ended up bringing her into further contact with his now fully aroused dick. Her body now lay stretched fully onto the length of his body, flattening him to the mattress underneath. Seeing an opening she latched onto Sam's neck and gently bit him. A groan passed unchecked from his throat; Savannah tangled her legs with his own and grinded belly against his cock. His arms tried once again to push her off him, but she had the advantage now.
"I'm not his girl" she explained. "He picked me up at a bar, but by the time we got here he was too drunk to be any good to me."