Robbie was never the Ladies' Man sort, but he knew he could offer a woman much more than the typical joe with a chiseled six pack, a smarmy smile and blimp-like dick. He was genuine, with a credibility that would have made an expert witness under oath in a courtroom nod in approval. He thought himself attractive, though, because he broke the rules every once in a while.
Rule No. 1 for men and women when it comes to relationships: never fool around with a person designated as "taken." Oh, he was about to shatter this one into pieces. The setting was quaint if a bit pretentious: a French restaurant with a wine list the length of the Eiffel Tower, and a menu with prices that might make Bill Gates think twice. He did not pick the place, and he was not about to complain about it, either.
Jessica suggested it first and then insisted after giving potential dining destinations some thought. He met her in college and worked under her guidance for a time. Her hair was reddish-blonde. He could not tell which color was the dominant one sometimes. Her blue eyes contrasted with her bleach white skin. She was skinny with average breasts and a few freckles on her left cheek. She also wore glasses on occasion.
Meredith, a mutual acquaintance, decided to tag along. Robbie did not mind this. They worked together briefly, and he had always admired her full figure. Meredith's breasts, by contrast, were like the navel oranges he bought at the area supermarket. Her blonde hair made Jessica's look a bit redder. He still could not decide.
In town for a convention, the two women, both in their late-20s, opted for a catch-up dinner with Robbie and some other old friends. He offered his apartment to them weeks in advance, so they would not need to pony up for a hotel room. After some discussion, they accepted. They could steal his bed for a night or rest easy on the foldout couch, amongst the most comfortable on the planet.
At the restaurant, they sipped wine and shared stories from the previous two years. He ordered a beef dish with a delightful cream sauce. Meredith and Jessica each devoured the special, a stuffed chicken with vegetables. He paid the bill, of course, even if the final amount made him cringe inside a bit. He would pay it for them and for the sheer quality of the cuisine. How often does a man have an acceptable excuse to sample a place of this caliber?
French food was filling, and parts of the meal felt heavier going down his esophagus than a sack of bricks. Rich stuff, he thought, for rich people. He was glad to pretend he was one for an evening.
Robbie was partial to one dress outfit in particular: a solid color shirt, pants and a sports coat. Since he loved royal blue, he wore that with black pants and his black coat.
Meredith showed off her legs and back in a solid navy blue dress with a clasp and white stilettos. Jessica wore a pitch-black dress with a flower pattern visible throughout. It stopped at her knees and meshed with her black high-heels. They looked like a classy bunch. No cleavage, no moth ball-infested dress shirt fit for a dead grandfather in a casket. They were hip, too
He did not care to remember the details of the conversation or their previous stints as fellow employees. An extensive chat about eminent domain or one centered on slander and libel laws was not arousing. His mind always drifted straight to the sex that happened later.
The particulars of how Meredith and Robbie began petting each other's hands in the front seat during the drive home did not matter. It was just important that they felt an attraction. The caveat was also vital and made the eventual intercourse dangerous: Jessica and Meredith were both in committed relationships. He promised to keep a secret if they reciprocated. They could sort it out later in the aftermath.
They arrived to his spotless apartment just after 10 p.m. He cleaned it in advance of any expected company. For two ladies, he went overboard.
Jessica yawned as the other two approached the door. "I'm tired," she managed. As soon as they entered the living area, she crashed on the sofa.
"Lights out, I suppose," Robbie said. "Yep," Meredith agreed. "She's a goner."
"How much wine did she drink?" he asked. "More than you and I," she answered. "She might sleep until tomorrow."
Robbie and Meredith giggled. With the third member of the party seemingly unconscious and spread across the couch, they decided to improvise a solution to the sudden sleeping quandary. Two people and just one bed to share was simple math.
"I can keep a secret, Meredith," he said without pause. "Why don't you sleep with me?"
She laughed. She was too intoxicated to give the question serious thought or examine her response's implications. She laughed some more. She tried to walk to the kitchen but began to slip. He ran across the room and caught her in mid-air. Clichés do happen before sexual situations.
As he grabbed her, their faces met. Soon, their lips did, too. "I think we should do more than share the same bed," Meredith said in slurred speech. He understood the message. "I think you," she pointed while laughing hysterically, "should take off your clothes." So he did.
He threw off his shirt, unzipped and removed his pants, and tossed his shoes and socks toward the couch, revealing just his boxers. "Shit, that's sexy," Meredith said. "I think you need to get closer to naked, too," Robbie said. Neither noticed that one of his socks had smacked Jessica in the face. She was sound asleep, so it did not matter.
Meredith obliged and unclasped her dress. She did her best impression of a stripper on a stage as she undressed. It was the only slow portion of the opener of this sexual escapade. She nearly tripped again a few times. The striptease inflated his dick like a blimp.
When all that covered her body was her blue panties and stilettos, they ran toward each other and engaged in a wild kiss. He had seen this kind of lip lock before in an adventure movie when the protagonist was re-united with his long lost love. Drunk or sober, it was still passionate. Save the regrets for the next morning, he told himself. She must have said the same.
He used his hands to squeeze her humongous boobs while his tongue darted in and out of her mouth. Her breath tasted like the best wine of the night coupled with heavy cream and strawberry Mentos. It was delicious to him.
When Meredith and Robbie grew bored with aggressive tonsil hockey, they moved to the bedroom. He tickled her panties then pulled them down and threw her onto the bed. He pulled the panties all the way off but left on her stilettos. He tasted her pussy with his lips and tongue to prepare the area for his now huge cock. He swore his genitalia had grown several inches just in the last few minutes. He removed his boxers then jumped onto the bed.
The two giggled again. "You get on top first," Robbie suggested. "I want you to stare at me while we have sex."
"OK," she said. Meredith played with his cock to get it ready for insertion. Her painted fingernails tickled the head and his testicles. Don't explode yet, he thought.
Like an anesthesiologist trying to find the right vein in which to stick an IV, she experimented until she found the right position. She stuck it in, and the two sat immersed in one another for half a minute before one of them took charge. Meredith went first. She gyrated up and down in a hypnotic motion.
She was not drunk enough to screw up her maneuvering. After a few minutes, the incessant moans began, and they needed to lock lips again to offset the power of the sensation of his dick submerged in her pussy. Talk was cheap. They didn't do much of it. That would just interrupt the fabulous, inebriated sex.
"I don't want to mess up your bed, so just cum inside me, Robbie," she said. She followed with a giggle and an ear-splitting moan. Her invitation seemed to open the floodgates. He came soon after and made sure he emptied his load before he pulled his dick out of her pussy.
"Now, you get on top," Meredith barked. He did not need to say anything comprehensible. Instead, he just complied and mounted her the same way she had him.
His soaked dick easily slid into her wet pussy. He stared at her while he sat up and rammed his dick in and out in the same hypnotic motion. He lowered his head, so his mouth could reach her breasts. He tasted them while his dick performed horizontal gymnastics. He was not an experienced lay, but he knew where to stick it and how to get it there.
His tongue moved from her boobs, after a time, to her starved lips. They French kissed again while they banged one another. This time, she came first. Her legs squeezed his for several seconds while they swapped fluids. They paused for a moment before deciding what to do next.
Robbie kissed Meredith's ears and breasts before standing up to bang her from behind. "Well, we haven't done this yet," Robbie. "Lay on your stomach, Meredith."
She did. He was unfamiliar with sex of the anal variety, but he improvised. An intoxicated, aroused late-20s woman would not know the difference. As long as he slipped his dick in the right hole, he was golden.
He rubbed her back while he slid his dick back and forth. After a minute or two, he found a groove and tried to keep a steady beat. She flipped over on her back, and he did her the usual way until they came again. "Man, that's kind of exhausting," Robbie said.
