The bridge we were walking over spanned a creek swollen with recent rain, and as it rushed past, it roared in a fit of white noise so intense that it obscured virtually all other sound, leaving us in a sort of sonic snowglobe where time wasn't quite synched up with the rest of the world. We moved as if in slow motion, every smile, every flip of hair, every step in half speed, like some badly conceived shampoo commercial. It's weird how your senses will freak out like that when one of them is overloaded, but it gave me precious moments to look more closely at this girl whom the creek had transformed into a vision of silky, bouncy, well-conditioned, and conspicuously dandruff-free blonde hair.
It was our first date, and we were still in the process. You know, The Process by which all participants in the date figure out the rules and the agenda. We knew each other, not well, but we had worked at the same place for six months or so, and finally the flat out lust I felt every time I saw her talked me into doing something about it. I wasn't very confident, as I was significantly older than she was, but apparently she had a thing for me, too, because within a minute of my proposal, she had agreed to come out to this small town fair as our first date.
I'm not going to go into all the pros and cons of her personality, and her background, or her likes, dislikes, and ambitions. I had a lot of information in those areas, but to be quite frank, it was the lust that had gotten me to this point, and it was the lust that I was listening to at that moment. Just plain, old-fashioned want-to-get-into-her-pants-itude. She was cute, not beautiful, not a stunner the way some are, but with the shoulder-length blonde hair, the palest of pale skin, the bright blue eyes, and the light, natural makeup, she was the embodiment of the Girl Next Door. If you stopped there and didn't investigate further, it was easy to overlook her. But there was a particular moment when she wore a particular outfit in a particular pose one day that I came to the realization that had brought us to that point. She had tits.
One day she wore a blouse a little snugger than the others, and turned in a way that gave me a perfect silhouetted view as the fabric hugged her, and I saw big, full showstopping tits. The kind of tits you can cup in your hand and still have enough left over to jiggle. They rode high and proud, and I could tell that her bra wasn't there so much to hold them UP as to hold them IN. And in that moment, I wanted them. I wanted them because no one else noticed them. I wanted them because it made me look more closely and see the long legs under the khaki slacks, and the slightly thick, bubble ass that needed its own soundtrack when she walked down the hall. I wanted them most of all because they were beautiful.
And they were beautiful that night, too. She wore one of those faux retro t-shirts that hug all the girls' curves without technically showing anything off. It showed off those tits so well that my cock started getting hard every time I looked at them, so I had to make eye contact or risk spending the evening in an ever-constricting underwear prison. Just a brown t-shirt, a snug pair of jeans, and a pair of sneakers, and I would have sworn she was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. I wanted to Fuck her. Not fuck her, but Fuck her. Not the kind of time-wasting, nothing-better-to-do, let's-see-what-you-got fucking you did in high school. And not the room-spinning, fumbling-for-clasps-and-zippers, trying-not-to-puke fucking you did after the bar. But a life-changing, full-attention, everything-throbbing, who-needs-food? kind of Fucking that would forever change the way I thought about brown t-shirts and the way she would feel about first dates. So I started to do something about it.
I stopped on the bridge, pulled her closer, and asked something she couldn't quite hear over the eardrum-numbing roar from below. I asked again, and she still couldn't make it out. So I pulled her closer, moved her hair out of the way with my cheek, slipped my arm around her waist, and whispered,
"Would you mind terribly if I kissed you now? I hate suspense."
Her eyes widened as she digested what she'd heard, and after a second her cheeks flushed, and she smiled, and I knew it was going to be a fun evening.
"Sure," she said. "Frankly, I've been thinking about it since I got into your car."
I moved my lips to hers as she leaned into my arm around her waist and kissed her on the bridge as crowds of people walked past on their way to the fair. Just an exploratory peck at first, then she moistened her lips a bit and really started to put me to work. Soon her tongue was flicking in and out against mine, and she turned her head to get a better angle. Right then, I disconnected, straightened up and grabbed her hand firmly as I said,
"Come on, let's go to the fair. I have a feeling it could be fun, don't you?"
She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, smiled a little sideways smile, and came with me without a word.
We did all the things people do at a fair: drank beer, ate fair food, listened to a couple of bands play, played some games, people-watched. Everywhere we went, I saw men looking at her longingly, some out of the corner of their eyes, some blatantly. A group of guys leaning against the fence got treated to another quick make-out session, a group of teenagers by the river got to see us do it some more. She figured out quickly that I was drawing it out, making her wait, and she played along, teasing me herself. She would rub a breast along my arm while we were in line behind some blue-hairs, wiggle her ass at me when she knew I was looking.
On the Ferris wheel, there was no holding back. Tongues crashed together. Lights flashed as the big wheel dipped us into the crowd and back out again, into the cool night air. My hands found her breasts underneath her shirt and she gasped when my fingers found her nipples and squeezed. We could hear voices when we came back around to the bottom of the wheel, but we couldn't be bothered to stop what we were doing. My hand slipped down the back of her jeans and played with her ass a little while, then she shifted her weight so I could get even deeper. A quick dip into the pool of juices forming underneath her pussy, then back out as we felt the wheel begin to slow. I playfully sucked my finger clean in front of her, then kissed her quickly before it became our turn to disembark.
