Quickie: The Blanket

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My name is Keith. I am a typical single thirty year old male. There is really nothing above average about me. I am about 5’5″ and have a few extra pounds that I’ve been fighting with for a long time now. I keep my dark brown hair in a faux hawk most of the time, though there are a few days that I don’t bother even doing that little bit of work to it.

I had become recently unemployed due to the financial downturn, and after unsuccessfully looking for work in the accounting sector, I decided to go back to school to change my career focus. And that is where I met her, the girl that would change my life forever.

Her name was Tara. I am not going to lie, she was beautiful, but she was not a skinny bimbo. She was taller than me, just by a few inches. Had a body that was firm and fit. Her breasts weren’t too big, yet they were more than enough of a handful. And her ass was nice and tight. She was the quintessential country princess.

We sat near each other in our class, and for most of the semester, I tried in vain to sneak my way into her conversations. I am shy when it comes to girls, I’ll admit that. So after many futile attempts at bad jokes and boring conversation, I gave up and chalked her up to another girl I wanted but would never have.

And then one night I got a friend request on my facebook profile about a month before class ended. It was from Tara. I immediately opened it and clicked Accept. Thoughts swirled in my head, thinking perhaps she had meant to send the request to someone else. Then the message popped up.

Tara: “Hey ankara escort Keith.”

Keith: “Hey Tara, what are you doing this weekend?”

I rolled my eyes and groaned at what I had typed in my haste. This girl was going to think I’m a desperate douche.

Tara: “LOL, you get straight to the point, I like that … I’m probably going to hang out with some gf’s and see a movie.”

I couldn’t help but smile like a teenager talking to his first crush as I responded.

Keith: “Cool! Well, if your girls can’t make it, let me know.”

A few agonizing moments went by. I knew for sure she had just laughed her ass off and was texting everyone how much of a retard I was. I sighed in relief as I saw her response.

Tara: “If that’s your way of asking me out, I accept … pick me up tomorrow at 8pm.”

Keith: “Absolutely! I’ll be there.”

She sent me her address and before I could respond another message that left me dumbfounded.

Tara: “I bet you wish you were my blanket right about now… snuggled comfortably between my thighs …”

My jaw dropped open and I froze in shock. That one statement left me more than a little turned on. As I tried to come up with a witty response, she logged off, leaving me to stare at her last message.

I tried to concentrate the next day on menial tasks around the house. Yet, I could not get that message out of my head and I found myself watching the clock, trying to mentally move it forward. It was perhaps the longest day of my life waiting for the time to pick her up.

I honestly had elvankent escort no idea what to expect that night. I pulled up in front of her house and waited as she asked. A few minutes later, she walked out and once again my jaw dropped open. She was wearing a black jean mini skirt and leather boots that went up to her knee. I was immediately aroused. How did she know I had a small (so I thought) fetish for mini skirts and leather boots?

We arrived at the movie a few minutes later, a little known film that had been out for a few weeks, so the theatre was nearly empty. She acted calm and cool. No hint at all about her last message the previous night. I had actually thought I had imagined it.

Until halfway through the movie, I felt a hand on my lap. I glanced down, then glanced around to see if anyone was watching. There was no one else in the back row. I looked at her face to see a mischievous grin. Slowly her hand rubbed my thigh, moving closer and closer to my cock.

She rubbed my now hard cock through my pants, gripped it firmly then let go. With her other hand, she placed my hand on her bare thigh and spread her legs slightly, inviting me in.

I softly caressed up her thigh, hesitating only a moment as I neared her pussy. My fingers brushed against her. Smooth and wet. She licked her lips and closed her eyes a moment. I didn’t think my cock could get any harder, till she looked back at me. It was a look of pure lust.

She unbuckled my belt and released my cock from its confinement, while I looked around otele gelen escort nervously, expecting everyone to be watching us in disgust. Yet no one was paying attention as her fingers began to lightly trace up and down my cock. My eyes drifted shut with the feeling of her teasing me. My fingers began working her pussy, in and out, then darting up to rub her clit.

I resisted the urge to buck against her hand. She shuffled around, pulling my hands away from her pussy, without stopping her teasing and lowered her head to my lap.

I grabbed her hair as she licked slowly up my shaft. A low moan escaped my lips, but I didn’t even care as her mouth opened and took me inside.

How to describe what I felt? I don’t know. I was in pure ecstasy as her head bobbed up and down, taking me completely in and then coming back to lick the perfect spot under the tip before swirling the head around in her mouth and devouring me once again.

I felt the building up in my balls, tried to whisper that I was about to cum, to warn her. Yet, all that came out was another moan. But I don’t think she would have cared. A few moments later, I exploded, and she kept sucking.

She sucked as my cum filled her mouth, until I couldn’t cum anymore. Then she slowly sat up, smiled deviously and swallowed. She licked her lips and winked at me.

It was then, through the fog in my mind, I realized we weren’t alone. I glanced up and saw three younger couples in front of us. Two of the girls were busy sucking off their men, while the third sat on her guys lap looking me in the eye with wanton lust as she rode his cock.

I blinked, tearing myself from my trance and looked beside me to find Tara gone. She left a note on her seat.

I picked it up and read it: “It’s not my blanket that you’ll be wishing you were tonight …”

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