Rainy Day Monday
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It was a dreary Monday afternoon in January. Not cold enough to snow, which somehow made it worse. There was sort of a drizzly, misty freezing rain falling softly through the fog.
It was also a perfect day to have off from work. I run a regional mall in the metro Philadelphia area. My normal work week includes most Saturdays, so that usually gives me a day off during the week, which works out great most of the time. It’s a lot easier to run routine errands when half of suburbia is not out doing the same on Saturdays.
Such was the case on this gloomy Monday. It was high time my chocolate lab, Reese, had a long-overdue grooming appointment at the local Pet Smart.
Reese was so named because he has smatterings of tan on his nose, legs and stomach, giving him the appearance of a canine peanut butter cup. He’s also a big lovable teddy bear, which doesn’t hurt as an icebreaker with women. There are typically no wing men in grocery stores, so pet stores are a natural way to have something in common with a woman as a way to strike up conversation.
I had dropped him off at noon for the two-hour session and arrived back at PetSmart promptly at two o’clock for the pick-up. My only plans for the duration of the day were to prepare my taxes, so it wasn’t as if I had any pre-conceived notions of finding pussy on this day.
But if there is one thing I’ve learned in my many years, to paraphrase Tom Cruise’s character in Risky Business, opportunity for pussy often arrives in the most curious of circumstances.
You just have to not be afraid to ask nicely.
I walked through the door of the grooming salon into the cramped check-in/check-out area. I saw the other dog and his owner at about the same time. Both were very cute.
Very, very cute.
I smiled first at the owner, a raven-haired woman I guessed to be in her late thirties, or about fifteen years younger than myself. She had big blue eyes and a wide smile which grew when I bent down to pet her pup.
“Hi, big guy,” I said to the happy pooch, whose tail wagged merrily, hungry for the attention I was providing. While down there, I had a close-up view of the woman’s shapely legs, which were covered in black leggings. The most intriguing part, though, was that she also had on a pair of at least four-inch stilettos, ivory white in color, which served as an interesting choice on this treacherous weather day. But the contrast between the ebony material of the leggings and the white “fuck-me” pumps caught my attention immediately.
The colors of her attire mirrored that of her dog’s. He looked to be a lab mix of some kind, black with white on the same areas where my Reese had his tan markings. I looked up at her as I knelt below her, petting the precocious pup behind his floppy ears, and was greeted with a birds-eye view of her crotch. My face was mere inches from her pussy, which was purely unintentional, but even if she wanted to, she had no room to backtrack.
I could have stood up, but I chose not to. Instead, I admired the prominent camel toe protruding from the gap between the woman’s legs. If she was wearing any panties at all, they must have been wedged tightly between her labia. The two puffy lips were easily visible, and I made no effort to turn away. I was close enough so that she could probably feel my breath on her folds. And maybe it was my imagination, but she seemed to rock ever so slightly forward so that her pelvis crept another inch towards my nose.
“Twins,” I said, staring directly at her pair of plump pussy lips, within a tongue’s length of me. If I wanted to, I could have unraveled my tongue and licked right at the apex of her twat.
“Pardon me?” she replied, perhaps wondering if I’d really said what she thought she had heard.
I rose, reluctantly eschewing my view for the time being. I pointed to her wardrobe, which included a cropped black leather jacket. Like her dog, she was black from head to almost toe.
“You two, all in black, except for the feet.” I pointed to her outfit and then to her doggy. “You’re dressed like twins. Almost identical.”
She looked down at herself in self-assessment, and began to laugh. “Oh, my God, I never even thought of that. How hysterical.” She blushed. “Now I’m embarrassed. I never want to be one of those people who has their dog wear the same colors. Do you know those hideous people I’m referring to?”
“From my humble perspective, and I’ve had a pretty god vantage point, you both look adorable, so don’t be embarrassed.”
She fluttered her eyes and looked down, somewhat bashfully. “Thank you,” she said shyly.
“Those white shoes make a very sexy contrast to the black.” I looked in her bright blue eyes. “Very sexy indeed.”
“Thank you again, kind sir.”
I looked at her feet in mock surprise. “Oh, I was talking about your dog. But, I just noticed, your pumps are very sexy also,” I kidded her, trying not to come on too strong.
She slapped me on the arm, chortling in delight. “Oh, you’re a jerk. And here bahis siteleri I thought you were charming.”
Just then, the PetSmart associate behind the counter announced, “Look out, Mr. Donnelly, here comes your spanking doggy!”
Reese burst through the swinging counter door and jumped up on his hind legs and began to lick my face in greeting. That’s the best thing about being a dog owner. Whether you’ve been gone two hours or two weeks, each return is like a celebration worthy of the Fourth of July to your dog. Man’s Best Friend indeed.
“My, my, someone’s happy to see you!” The dark-haired woman smiled as she watched Reese pummel my face with kisses.
“Do you blame him?” I asked. “After all, I’m very lovable.”
“I can see that, Mr. Lovable. My name’s Julie, by the way. Do you have a first name, or should I just call you Mr. Lovable?”
I wiped the doggy drool from my face and watched as Reese and Julie’s dog began the introductory ritual of sniffing each other’s butts. “Mr. Lovable is what I prefer, Julie, but until you’re comfortable with smothering me with kisses, I suppose you can call me John.”
Julie giggled, tugging on her dog’s collar so that they two leashes would not become irrevocable intertwined. “I’ll try to exhibit some self-restraint, Mr. Lovab…er, I mean, John.” She looked around at the PetSmart groomers behind us, watching our own mating ritual with interest. “At least in public, I mean.”
“Well, that’s admirable, Julie. I commend you. We should at least hold off on any public displays of affection until I’ve been properly introduced to your twin,” I said, pointing to Reese’s new buddy.
“Oh, my goodness, how rude of us,” Julie said in mock disgust. “Jackson, why didn’t you introduce yourself?” The black and white pup huffed and snorted and yipped a greeting.
“Well, hello to you, Jackson,” I said as I watched Reese continue to sniff Jackson’s rear end. I shook my head. “Such a curious way of getting to know each other, isn’t it? Imagine if we humans did that.”
“It would probably end a lot of first dates rather quickly, don’t you think?” Julie asked rhetorically.
I nodded my head in agreement. “You’re so right. I don’t usually try to sniff my date’s butts until the second date. And even then, only after dinner and a movie. But I always ask first.”
She playfully slapped my arm again, this time holding onto it for an extra second, though. We began to walk out into the main store in tandem, neither one leading the other, just sort of naturally walking as a couple. Or a foursome if you included our furry friends. “I’ll bet you don’t get a lot of third dates, do you?”
We talked easily near the entrance to the store, neither one of us wanting to venture out into the nasty weather. But it was more than that. There was a comfort level to our banter, and at least on my end, a tangible chemistry.
Julie had about fifteen extra pounds on her, but somehow, that made her even more attainable from my perspective, and it seemed to be proportioned in all the right places, including from what I could tell under the confines of the jacket, a very ample chest. I figured the longer she hung around talking with me, the better my chances.
I was beginning to formulate an alternative plan to an afternoon of tax preparation.
Julie revealed she was a hairdresser, or a “stylist” as she phrased it, at a local salon on the Main Line, perhaps Philly’s most tony suburb. (It’s funny. Why are they called “stylists” on the Main Line, but “hairdressers” in South Philly?)
Like me, she had off most Mondays and used that for personal time to do what she needed to accomplish. In the summer time, that included days at the Jersey Shore, where she had recently inherited a house in Avalon due to the death of both of her parents within the last few years. She had never been married, yet confessed reluctantly to a semi-serious boyfriend.
“So, you’re sort of wealthy, gorgeous, a dog lover, and I can tell not really committed to your boyfriend.” I concluded after listening to her background.
“What does an older guy like me have to do to convince you to drop your boyfriend and elope with me?”
She contemplated this inquiry. “Hmmmm,” she began pensively. “Well, I guess for starters, don’t try to sniff my butt on the second date unless you ask really nicely, AND it’s a really good dinner, AND a really, really good movie.”
I whipped out my receipt from the dog grooming and began to scribble down notes. “Got it, ask nice before, well, you know. Expensive meals, and only good chick flicks. Probably one of those foreign artsy-fartsy films with subtitles. No shoot-em-ups or anything with Chuck Norris. Check.”
“You’re paying attention, that’s a good sign. Next, I suppose you can tell me something about yourself, other than your butt-sniffing fetish.” I threw up my palms in non-verbal self-defense. But then her next comment not only told me she was playful, it also told me she was a little bit interested in seeing how canlı bahis siteleri naughty I could be.
“Not that I rule that kind of behavior out, mind you. There are worse fetishes.”
She gave me a cue. That’s all a woman can do if a man is paying attention. React to the cues. Now it was up to me to play the game just right.
So I told Julie my story, and why I was off on his dismal winter Monday. When I told her the mall I managed, she snapped her fingers in recognition. “I knew it, that’s why you look so familiar. I worked in Paula’s salon there for a few weeks last year while our salon was being renovated. I KNEW I knew you from somewhere.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t see you there, Julie. I definitely would have remembered you. I have a keen attention to detail for things……” I scanned her body up and down, less than subtly, lingering my gaze on that splendiferous camel toe that had my mouth watering. “……like you.”
Julie shifted on her white stilettos and moved a bit closer to me so that our torsos were nearly touching. “I worked part-time, mainly nights when the business was heaviest. And it was only for a few weeks.” She gazed at me and licked her cherry-red lips. that’s when I saw her tongue for the first time. It looked long. And warm. And wet.
“Besides, you were dating that other stylist, the redhead. What was her name…….?”
“Debra,” I admitted quietly, caught in the small-world irony.
“Debra. Yes, Debra, that was it. Are you still seeing her?”
“No, no,” I said, waving my arms. “That was only a short-term thing. She doesn’t work there anymore, I’m not sure where she went. And we weren’t exactly dating….”
Julie nodded, agreeing to my version of the facts. “Yeah, that’s what she said, too. That you two weren’t ‘dating’. But you two were definitely ‘seeing’ each other, weren’t you? And there IS a difference between ‘dating’ and ‘seeing’, isn’t there, John?”
“Absolutely, Julie,” I answered, We both knew what that difference was. I just wondered what Debra had told the girls in the salon.
Almost as if she were reading my mind, Julie assuaged my wonder. “Debra was quite the source of envy in the salon, as I recall, John.”
I tried to play dumb. I can do this pretty good anyway. But in this case, I truly didn’t know how chatty Debra had been about our little fling. “How so?” was all I could muster.
Julie’s deep blue eyes sparkled as she relayed the sordid details. “Debra said…how can I put this….?” She bit her lip. “Let’s put it this way, Mr. Lovable, OK? Debra said you had the best tongue she’d ever known. She told us you would eat her for hours at a time.”
Julie looked proud of herself for just coming out with this, so much so that she added a postscript. “So, apparently, butt-sniffing is not your main fetish.”
I didn’t mind the way this conversation was going, to be truthful. After all, word of mouth is the best form of advertising. “Guilty as charged, Julie. And just how do you feel about such activity?”
Julie gave me a wry grin. She clearly didn’t take offense to the way this direction was steering, either. In fact, she was the co-pilot. “As I said, John, she was the source of envy. Every girl wants a man with a………knowing tongue.”
We looked at each other. The dogs looked at each other. We looked at the dogs. The dogs looked at us.
It’s called an awkward silence. It’s when each person knows that the next sentence dictates the irreversible flow of the conversation, thus leading to action. Or not.
I delved in with both feet. “Do you have plans for the remainder of the afternoon, Julie?” I glanced out the door. The good news was that the sleet had stopped. The bad news was that it turned to all rain, and it was pouring now.
“What did you have in mind, John?” she asked. That wasn’t a yes, that wasn’t a no. It was a question answering a question. I hate that. That’s no way to address an awkward silence.
“Well, since we can safely rule out a walk on the beach, I was thinking that maybe I could eat you out for the next few hours or so.”
“Just like that?” That wasn’t a yes, that wasn’t a no. That was another question.
I shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much, just like that. I mean, the dogs can play amongst themselves, too. What’s not to like?”
She looked out the window. “No expensive dinner. No movie?”
“Julie, this will go a lot quicker if you could not answer a question with another question.”
She bit her lip. “Sorry, is that annoying?” There she goes again.
I shrugged again. Deja vu. “No. It’s just not time-efficient, really.”
She nodded. “Can I think about it?”
I shook my head. “Probably won’t help us. Ya know, paralysis by analysis, that sort of thing. How about I kiss you and help you make up your mind?”
“Here? In PetSmart? A first kiss? How romantic.”
I gestured outside. “How about in the rain, then? That’s romantic.”
She thought for about ten seconds. “OK.” Finally, a decision.
We walked canlı bahis to our cars as the pups scurried at our feet. Julie put Jackson in her little red sports car and I plunked Reese into the back of my Jeep. I walked over to Julie’s car slowly, where she was waiting for me, her hair dripping little rivulets of raindrops down her forehead.
I took her wet head tenderly in my hands and we kissed, slowly and gently at first, and then deeply. Our tongues danced after a few seconds, catching the raindrops and sharing them in our mouths, savoring the moisture and the sweetness of the winter sky.
The pelting rain only seemed to heighten the sensuality of our mouths exploring each other. I pushed Julie against her car with my hips with an almost imperceptible gyration, and she groaned softly into my lips, humming as she purred. I reached down and caressed her ass over the leggings, which were now getting saturated from the water rushing down off of her leather jacket.
She released her mouth from mine just enough to whimper, “You can kiss. Nice. You kiss nice.”
There’s only one way to answer that. “So can you.”
So we kissed again, more hungrily this time. Her pelvis lifted from the side of her car and grinded into my groin. She released the kiss again. “I’m really wet,” she murmured.
“So am I.”
“No, you’re hard,” she said tapping my crotch with her own. “Really hard. Me, I’m really wet.”
“Oh, thanks for clarifying.”
“You’re welcome. Follow me home?”
It was my turn to answer a question with a question. “Is that an invitation?”
She took my hand and placed it on her pussy. It was warm, very warm. I expected steam to begin rising soon. “Well, unless you know my address and plug it into your GPS, I think it’s the easiest way. So, yeah, I guess you could call it an invitation. Or an order. How long did you say you’d eat me?”
Again, keeping with the theme, I answered with a….well, you know. “How long would you like me to eat you?”
“You said something about hours, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess I did. Hours it is, then. Now can we get in our cars?”
As I walked back to my car, she called to me before climbing into hers. “You know, my boyfriend hardly ever goes down on me. So I might be a bit selfish. Do you mind? For hours, really?”
I tapped my wristwatch. “Tick-tock, Julie.”
“Right.” She had a glazed look in her blue eyes as she disappeared into her car, mumbling. “For hours…wow.”
She lived in a complex only minutes from my own. Funny how two strangers can live so close to each other and their paths never cross. And here we were about to share the most intimate of acts having met less than an hour ago. Rainy Days and Mondays…………
She rushed in first, her heels clicking on the sidewalk. Amazing how agile she was on slippery concrete in four-inch heels, while Jackson slipped and stumbled in his haste to get indoors. I watched her ass cheeks wiggle beneath the now rain soaked cotton of her leggings. The moisture caused the material to be almost transparent. For the first time, I could see the outline of the thong wedged between her round buttocks.
I waited until she was safely in her townhouse before Reese and I sprinted to the doorway. Once inside, Reese joined Jackson in shaking the excess moisture on their coats all over Julie’s carpets, tracking mud along the way. “Sorry,” I offered in way of apology for the mess.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You’re not here to clean, remember? Do you mind if I take a shower?” She unzipped her leather jacket and for the first time, I saw her torso covered by a tight dark gray sweater.
She did indeed have some extra weight around the belly, but her tits were sensational. Perfectly shaped, round and firm, they seemingly struggled to escape the prison of her bra straps.
“Yes, I mind. If you don’t take me in with you.”
Her red lips formed into a grin, and she shook her body in a shiver, like our canines. “That time, you didn’t even give me an opportunity to invite you.”
I took her by the hand and navigated our way into the master bedroom in her ranch townhouse. She had a beautiful four-post bed that was partially covered in drapes. A love den. Perfect for the task at hand. A marathon cunnilingus session with a beautiful and willing stranger on a frigid weekday afternoon.
But first a shower. Sort of like an appetizer prior to the main course.
Without a word, she lifted her arms over her head and gazed at me with a “Well, it’s not going to take itself off” look. Taking my cue (again), I pulled the sweater carefully over her head and placed it on the floor gingerly. Her globes were lightly freckled, and her dark areolas peeked out behind the confines of a black lace push-up bra.
I didn’t wait for an invitation this time, verbal or otherwise. I reached behind her and unsnapped the hooks on her bra, and Julie’s lovely breasts tumbled out of their holding cell. Her nipples were shaped like two thimbles, almost square nubs, like tiny chocolate nuggets. A delicacy to feast liberally feast upon soon enough. She stood before me naked from the waist up, adorned only in leggings and pumps, and began to pull my own sweater over my head.
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