What a Woman Wants
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
I often wish that the woman inside my head who wants commitment and love and cuddling and “something deeper” could be shut up completely or killed or something, to make room for the woman in my head who is absolutely dying to get off right now right here, by anyone available.
SO, this is a story of how the night would go for me if I were a bit more emotionally compartmentalized.
I walked into the bar a bit nervous, as I always was at the beginning of a night.
One of the few women I knew who would actually go anywhere alone, I felt independent but knew myself to be a bit of a fraud.
I wasn’t usually out alone on purpose. I was just alone by default.
Though I was hoping the night wouldn’t end that way.
I slicked a hand down my side, mentally reviewing my idea for the night. I had dressed up, but with a mind on giving some guy easy access.
My dress was a short retro purple wrap dress, giving me a slyly innocent 40s housewife look that was deftly belied by my smoky eyeliner and red lipstick.
I scanned the crowd for likely prospects as I ordered a merlot from the bartender. The idea was to get just twisted enough to believe my own rationalizations, but not actually drunk.
Dirty was dirty but puking on the guy during sex was a definite no-no.
There were a few guys worth taking a second look at. One in the corner was tall dark and everything your mama warned you about. I met his gaze directly, trying to give nothing away with my eyes. After a moment I broke the eye contact and received my drink from the bartender.
I took a sip, glancing around again and alighting on his face. This time I let my eyes wander up and down his well-muscled frame. He must have been 6’3, eyes as dark as sin but grey not brown. His hair was a tousled mess that made him look boyish and charming. Until you saw the cut of his biceps and the broad, broad shoulders beneath that boyish mop.
Standard black t-shirt, dark wash jeans not too tight, and a typical beer in his hand finished the look that said he could take me on the ride of my life and not even be trying hard.
Yep. He was the one.
I lowered my eyes to my glass as I took a second demure sip. I’d never been a small woman but I was definitely well built. My pin up photos had developed a likeable following online and it had boosted my already stable confidence.
Nothing makes a woman feel beautiful like dressing up and showing off for the world, and getting applause in return.
At the moment, I was feeling a bit of that praise again, seeing as how I was one of the few women in the bar. This place was always good for what I thought of as “hunting”. It was where the men came when they told themselves they were just having a “guy’s night”.
It seemed to me they always came here with the idea that they’d chill out, play some pool, and not think about women for one night of their lives. Until about the third drink, that is.
I leaned on the bar and winked at one of the waitresses I knew as she walked by. “Hey, Kim. How many drinks has James Dean in the corner there had?” I pointed with my chin, not caring if he saw me inquiring about him as that would just serve to speed this little game along.
She, being a savvy one, didn’t look over at gaziantep escort him. She set down her tray at the bar and turned to me, letting her eyes find him in the gold veined reflection of the cheap back-bar mirror.
“Oh, that’s his third, I think. I served him two before that one and haven’t seen him come up to the bar or anything.” While she spoke the bartender loaded her tray up and she gave me a wink and sauntered off again.
Perfect. Just perfect. I knew this evening would go smoothly. I could feel it in my gut when I got here.
I found a seat at an empty table and pretended to watch the crazy old movie that was on the Speed network. Grand Prix, I think it was. I had my back to him now, on purpose, pretending I wasn’t sitting here waiting for him to approach. I wasn’t too shy to make the first move, but I always preferred it when I didn’t have to.
It wasn’t long before I felt a presence over my shoulder. I looked up as he leaned in over me. His smoky deep voice hit me like a shot of the most potent aphrodisiac.
“May I sit here?”
Ooh, mannerly as well as yummy. I looked into those deep eyes and nudged the chair out with my foot. He pulled it the rest of the way out, never taking his eyes off my “fuck me” heels and the small tattoo of an anchor on my ankle.
I smiled, slow and easy. “Thank you.”
He grinned back at me. “What, no ladylike protestations of modesty?”
I shook my head, letting my smile slide into a wicked grin as I brought my glass to my mouth. I sipped, licked my mouth, and set the glass down before answering again.
“I’m not feeling especially ladylike this evening.”
As I said it I let my leg make contact with his under the table.
He glanced at the television, feigning disinterest, and took a drink of his beer. “Really, and what do you feel especially like this evening?”
“I feel… Restless…” I smiled, swirled my wine and watched it settle, felt his hand as he moved it onto my knee, started inching it up my thigh.
I laid mine down on top of his, leveling him a very direct look.
“Don’t be starting something you don’t plan to finish. And don’t tell me your name. To me, you are…James.”
He looked minorly quizzical. “James?”
“You know, as in, Dean.” I gave him a wink.
“And what am I to call you?” He asked, seeming to get into the idea.
“You can call me Sasha.” I leaned into him and mentally took a deep breath.
“And now, James, I have one question for you. Your place, or mine?” I finished my wine and looked into his eyes.
“Well, as long as we’re keeping things anonymous, I do have a rather large SUV in the parking lot.”
I pushed back from the table and waited for him to rise. He led the way to the parking lot and I was more than happy to follow.
His car was one of those huge beasts that so many people drove these days. It could probably seat twenty average sized people, which I took as a good sign because I was a rather generous woman. The few previous times I’d had sex in a car were terrible forays into impromptu contortionism.
He opened the door and helped me in like a gentleman. Or as much of a gentleman as one could be when helping a woman into his car for a parking lot tryst. He’d parked conveniently far from the bar and the windows of his car were nicely tinted.
I sat on the bench seat as he got himself into the car and locked the doors. I love a man who thinks of the details.
As soon as he sat next to me I felt myself go hot all over. It was all falling into place so perfectly.
“So, sasha,what brought you to this neighborhood tonight?” He still seemed to think small talk was necessary.
“I think you already know the answer to that.” I punctuated my sentence by running my hand up his leg and feeling his member. Oh, how well this night was going.
There was nothing more disappointing than a man who looked like an Adonis but packed peanuts below the belt. There was definitely nothing disappointing here.
I met his gaze, saw the pride in it, and was more attracted to that confidence than anything else.
He reached for me, lifting me easily onto his lap so that I straddled him.
In my skirted state that left me rather well in contact with him.
He reached up, brought his hands to either side of my face, and kissed me. His tongue danced with mine, not plunging in too deeply, but just caressing me into a quivering mass of submissive want. I bit his bottom lip, just a bit, to show him that I wasn’t all submission.
His groan and the jump between his legs was enough gratification for me to file that move away for later use if needed.
His big, calloused hands moved up and down on my thighs, lightly massaging, and at the same time ultimately arousing.
I ran my hands around his big shoulders, loving the play of muscle under my fingers. “You’re so soft.” He said, sounding just worshipful enough to make me smile.
“And you’re so hard.” I said, grinding myself against him slowly.
He laughed, spanked my ass lightly, almost playfully, and kissed me again.
“How would you like it, Sasha?”
He asked, bucking himself against me in return.
“Mmmm…. slow and easy, James, slow and easy. Give it to me like you know what you’re doing.”
He moved his hand under my skirt, heading for my favorite place. His surprise showed when he encountered no underwear. Then that surprise turned to glee as he slid one long, blunt finger into me, slowly and my eyes rolled back in my head.
I shifted up off of him a bit, undoing his belt buckle. He groaned again, retracting his finger and shoving it into me a bit harder.
His other hand reached up, unzipping the back of my dress a bit.
“No underwear, so…?”
He left the question hanging as he drew my strap down to my elbow.
I looked down at myself, my blushing nipples looking back up at me, already hard from arousal. “No bra.” I answered. I shifted my exposed breast closer to his mouth and felt him exhale in ecstasy.
My breasts weren’t the most beautiful breasts ever invented, but they were more than enough to fill a man’s hand with small pink nipples and they had stayed amazingly pert for a bigger woman.
As soon as his tongue connected with my puckered flesh I felt my inner muscles jerk once, twice, against his finger still inside me.
He moved his thumb against my clit, pistoning his finger in and out of me, working me up into quite a fury of lust.
I felt the wetness inside of me increase as I came around his finger, my inner muscles working to keep that finger inside of me. I’d always been easy to bring to orgasm but that had been beyond spectacular.
I kissed him deeply in thanks, biting him softly again as I ended the kiss. I reached down as I felt both of his hands move to cup my backside.
“You’re so lush.”
I just grinned wickedly and flexed my butt into his hands.
I lowered his zipper slowly, anticipating the treat he had for me.
I pulled him free, letting him adjust his hips under mine so that he could lower his pants to his knees.
“Oh, god, you’re not too shabby yourself.” I said, laughing quietly in delight.
He grinned wickedly at me, watching as my hand tried to close around his girth. My fingers couldn’t reach quite all the way around him.
There was a thick vein on the top of his penis. It looked like a toy given me by God himself.
Long and thick, it was perfectly formed and didn’t even have that mottled purple look so many penises seemed to sport.
I rubbed my hand up and down the length and rubbed my wet pussy lips lightly against the head of it. He groaned, leaning back his head and clamping his hands tighter on my ass.
“Oh god, Sasha, that’s so good.”
I giggled. I couldn’t help it. I loved teasing him, holding all that power and strength in my hands and knowing that somehow I was even stronger.
I kept up my motions until I felt him jerk, pull back, and breathe deeply, obviously gripping his control by threads.
I took pity on him. I reached into the hidden pocket in my skirt, pulled out a condom, ripped open the package with my teeth and slid him neatly inside of it.
He looked at me, relieved.
I slid myself down on him, slowly, slowly, clenching my inner muscles with deliberation.
His hands left my ass to brace against the seat, fingers digging in for control.
I looked down when I was seated completely atop him, moved my breasts closer to his face and leaned my mouth down to his ear. “Now.” I breathed.
As soon as the word was out he gripped my waist and jerked up into me. I twisted in little circles and clenched my muscles around him as he withdrew, pleasuring both of us.
My moans escalated and his jaw clenched. He held my waist in a vise and I imagined I’d have bruises as tomorrow’s souvenir.
I came hard, just as the heavy head of his penis reached the edges of my opening and he was shoving back up inside of me. I screamed, loud. I couldn’t seem to help it. It was too good to keep quiet about. As I writhed on top of him, I felt his fingers dig even deeper into my waist, once, twice, as he spit his own seed deep inside of me. He lightly bit my nipple just as his climax ended and I collapsed forward on him.
A few seconds of heavy breathing, while he rubbed lazy circles on my exposed back, and I was finished.
“Thank you for the ride.” I said, grinning jauntily and pulling up my dress straps as I climbed off his lap.
He sat, looking dazed.
“Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime, James.”
I unlocked the door and climbed out, as graceful as I could be while my legs were shaking.
I waved lazily, looking over my shoulder, and then walked away into the dark of the parking lot.
It definitely had been a nice ride.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32