She was so beautiful and sexy. We were both at the races with other people and made eyes at each other. We talked. Immediately, she said she was very perceptive and we had nothing in common because she'd backed the favourite and I'd backed the nag, she drank white and I drank red. I made her promise to call me. Which she didn't. I called her, said a breathless hello and said I was dying to meet her again.
She hung up on me.
But she called back, said sorry that I was dying.
I said, "I think you owe me the courtesy of another meeting, don't you?"
"I'm doing that now, by phone."
I talked her into a physical meeting.
I chose the coffee shop. I sat down at the red table and, in defiance, she chose the white table but it had wonky legs so she had to came over.
"So, you like red, I like white," she said. "It's not going to work, is it?"
"Try not to analyse everything," I said. "Just make recommendations. I can either approve or disapprove your recommendations."
She studied my face. "You're weird."
"Ditto," I replied.
"Listen," she said, "the core of me is pink ooze. Exterior of me is independent. I am a survivor. I want love in my life."
"And you think I'm weird?"
She continued. "You've been with domineering women all your life. I can tell. Your journey in life is how to live with a strong woman. I don't want a provider. I'm not interested in wealthy men. You obviously want to be a provider. You don't want love. You don't need love. You just need someone to look after."
"So, what's your recommendation?"
"Recommendation? Okay. Fuck off."
"How absurd. We've just met. We are in a café." I thought for moment. "Oh, I get it. Already you're trying to say goodbye even though we've never lived together. You're rehearsing for the goodbye. How novel."
"You might say that."
"I just did," I said, rather cynically. "But I'll never finish my book if you say goodbye now, the book which I hoped to write if we lived together."
"A book? Oh, puleease. Leave me alone."
She stormed off but I followed her. "Was that all serious or was it just for the book."
"Why don't you just pick me up and fuck me."
"No, that would just be a display of my male dominance."
"Just do it! Bench me!" She looked across the road at a park. "There's a bench. Bench me!"
"No. I won't be told when I should bench you. Besides, we're in the street outside a café. People will notice."
She took me home and spooned me all night, both of us stark naked. No hands wandered nor were they allowed to wander. I never slept. It was getting weirder and weirder.
Next morning, she whispered that she was awake. She said it was almost daybreak and let out a small groan of pleasure as she started recounting the story of
"the party that she had attended".
I'm sure she was exciting herself with her fingers. When I tried to join in she pushed my hand away.
Somewhere in Chicago it was, she said. At the party she drank too much, crashed on a bed in someone's bedroom. She told me she loved telling stories, particularly this one.
"It happened at dawn. Daybreak actually," she said. "Daybreak. Luscious daybreak." She squirmed as she whispered in my ear.
I was already erect and she sensed it. Her hands, already slick with her juice, softly stroked my chest and my stomach but kept away from my raging phallus. She placed her fingers under my nose and allowed me to smell her sex on them as she continued.
"I woke up to someone sliding my knickers off."
"When did it happen?"
"Last week. I have them on now... the same knickers."
She lay back and showed me. They were skimpy lace knickers.
"I haven't washed them."
"Get them off," I said.
She slipped them off and put them up to her nose.
Then to mine.
I could smell the sex.
I allowed the sheet to fall away and my cock thrust upwards but she did not touch it. Rather, she devoured it with her eyes but she still did not touch it.
She continued. "I did actually wear them to the party in the hope that they would be taken off by some hairy goat-god. During the party, I kissed one young man, who was eighteen or nineteen years old. Very good looking. I allowed him to touch my nipples through my blouse. He lifted my blouse and kiss them. People at the party watched. If anyone sucks my nipples, my legs open. So, I allowed him to finger me. I love being fingered but when it came time to pull out his stiff cock, people were still watching and he got shy. It happens sometimes. Teenagers and alcohol! Anyway, like I said, I drank too much, crashed in someone's bedroom. At dawn, I woke up with a hand sliding my knickers down. Two hands actually. I pretended to be still asleep. I allowed the hands to draw down the knickers past my knees and then over my ankles. I sensed someone was gazing at my cunt. I spread my legs wide apart and I could feel my cunt lips part. You know when you open your mouth sometimes, there's sometimes saliva that forms a sort of bubble between your lips. That's what my cunt's like. I've looked in the mirror when I'm excited. There's always a bit of wetness that's like saliva between the opening lips. Men love seeing that. I felt the bed sag as he got onto the bed between my legs and I lifted my knees and I moaned as though I was still half asleep. He put something between my cunt lips. His finger and then he obviously couldn't wait. His cock entered. It was big. He slid it slowly into me right up to the hilt but I couldn't keep up the pretence. I opened my eyes. It was the same young man. We kissed and he fucked his cock all the way in and out, in and out pumping me madly. He started cumming and pumped my hips to meet his thrusts. Then I saw movement beside the bed. Another boy was sitting in a chair watching us, masturbating. I held out my hand to him and pointed at my mouth. He got up and came over. I took his cock in my mouth and fingered his balls. I felt the first one finish spurting, his balls pulsing on my arse. Then he rolled off and the other one jumped on and slid his cock into me. They both came in my cunt, dripping spunk out of my cunt, covering my arse in slippery man-juice. Men love hearing that, don't you?"
