She's a natural beauty, deep chestnut hair hanging over her shoulders in thick waves, just enough make up on her to make her features stand out. Big eyes, thick lashes, full lips that would look amazing sucking my cock.
Right on cue, the fucker jerks awake. I'm not that surprised, it's been a long time since I took a woman home with me. Still, I'm not used to sporting wood at the mere sight of a pretty girl.
This isn't just a pretty girl though. She's fucking hot. In a low cut blouse that shows off some highly fuckable cleavage and a short skirt that nips in at her waist and flares mid-thigh, the fabric moving with her steps in a way that has my eyes trained right where her legs brush together with her steps. All I can think about is how much I'd like to slide my hand between those thighs, all the way up.
Are those pantyhose? Are they those sexy thigh high stockings with the lacy tops? What kind of panties is she wearing? Does she trim her bush? Is it waxed bare?
Shit! I shake my head, trying to force myself back into the here and now. If I'm this distracted by some random woman, maybe it's time I put some serious effort into getting laid.
Except, she doesn't feel like a stranger. As she advances toward me, I can't shake the feeling that I know her from somewhere.
I'm standing in their way as they head toward the back room, still lost in conversation so deep that the redhead doesn't even notice me before her shoulder bounces off my arm. I side step her just in time to block the path of the brunette who just tried to veer around the other side of me.
Too late. She collides with my chest, her wine glass tipping as her hands fly up and land on my abs to brace herself from falling.
My arms go around her instinctively and our eyes lock momentarily before I feel the unmistakable sensation of cool liquid soaking my jeans.
"Oh my God!" the woman in my arms screams as her free hand immediately flies right to my crotch to dab at the spreading stain.
"Oh...ummm," she mumbles quietly when she realizes what's under her hand.
The fact that she hasn't stepped out of my grasp isn't helping. The wine was cool, but it was nowhere near cool enough to douse the raging hard on I was already sporting when she landed against me. Now I've got a beautiful woman standing so close to me that her tits are brushing against my chest, she's short enough that when I look down at her I can see straight down her blouse and take in the milky flesh of her full breasts cradled in a black lace demi cup bra, and her hand is on my dick.
Kendra
"It's not likely to get any drier if you keep doing that." His voice is deep and rich and it does absolutely nothing to break me out of the trance I seem to be in.
I'm utterly frozen in place. As if by not moving a muscle at this moment I can somehow pretend this isn't happening. Because I know that as soon as this is happening, I'm going to be more embarrassed than ever in my life and this man is probably going to be pissed off at me for ruining a nice pair of jeans.
Still. He hasn't budged either. I don't think he's moved a muscle since we made contact.
My hand involuntarily cups the bulge behind his zipper. OK. Maybe he's moved a muscle.
I swear my brain is sending the retreat command to my hand, but the damn thing is intent on mutiny. When his voice cascades over me from above, making me feel like I just stepped into a sauna, I hear the trace of humor in it, but I also recognize the dark and slightly strained voice of a man who doesn't actually want me to stop.
Or maybe that's my brain playing tricks on me as I feel myself falling into his impossibly blue eyes, caught up in imagining what those full, firm lips would taste like and what the dark shadow of stubble would feel like between my thighs.
Oh. He's not the only one who's wet now. I really need to get my mind off his mouth. And my hand off his...incredibly hard, thick, long....mmmm.
Also, that was my how many-eth glass of wine I just poured down his pants?
My fingers curl over the hard ridge of heat in my palm and I watch his eyes darken, his lashes fluttering just slightly as his lips part for a silent gasp.
I have no idea how long we stand by the hallway like this but suddenly he's taking my wine glass out of my hand and setting it down somewhere while his other hand clasps around my wrist as he pulls me through a door. The door closes behind us and I hear the deadbolt lock slide into place before the light flickers on to reveal the women's bathroom.
His lips are on mine.
Wow. They are much softer than I expected. And firm. And...ohhh...he's a really good kisser.
Somewhere beyond my lust-addled, wine-soaked brain I remember saying good bye to Raven. Her hotel is behind the pub on the other side of the alley from the parking lot and I was just going to walk her to the back door before I called for a ride home. I'm guessing she didn't even notice my literal run-in with the sexy stranger who is currently running his hands over my breasts while he keeps me pinned against the locked door with his deliciously hard body.
I'm vaguely aware that the moan I hear is coming from me when his mouth leaves mine long enough to move down my neck and burrow in my cleavage.
His hands fumble with the buttons on my blouse and a growl of frustration rumbles through his chest, "Hold on," I laugh as I take over the unbuttoning duties for him, "no need to get all barbarian with the good clothes.
"I can't wait to get into the bad clothes then," his voice is a low hum against my flesh as he eases the lace cups of my bra down and takes my breasts in his hands.
His thumbs slide over my nipples and he takes turns laving each one, sucking the sensitive tips into his mouth and rolling them between his teeth while his hot tongue works each nipple into a hardened pebble-- and turning me into a gasping, moaning, puddle of jelly as I rake my fingers through his dark hair.
I'm a little tipsy, so while my good sense tells me that hooking up with the evening's talent in the ladies' room when the place is about to close is crazy and kinda reckless, the part of me that just spent hours listening to this man sing all my favorite songs from high school in a sultry baritone while I laughed and drank and had some very explicit conversation about sex and romance is buzzing with the need to seize the day. Err, night. Err, man.
Or he could seize me, I think when his hands wrap about my hips and carry me across the room, sliding my ass up onto the counter between the sinks.
The strap of my purse slides off my shoulder and I shove the bag behind me as I wrap my legs around this guy. His hands slide up under my skirt, pushing it up my thighs and when his fingers reach the edge of the stockings and hit naked flesh he breaks our kiss and groans.
His finger tips slide under the stockings and he looks down between us, "Fuck, those are hot," he tells me as he fingers the lacy elastic before sliding my skirt up higher and watching till he reveals my panties.
He makes a thick, garbled noise in the back of his throat that makes me laugh, "You sound like this is the first time you've seen a woman's panties," I tease him as I let my hands slide down his arms.
I lean back and hook my ankles around his waist, letting him get the eyeful of red lace that he seems to be enjoying.
Oh yeah. I'm totally tipsy. There's no way I'm normally this forward. I blame the wine...and all the "would you rather" sexual scenarios that Raven threw at me over dinner and drinks...and maybe the fact this guy has a really sexy voice. And a really sexy body. Oh...and his face is nice too. And these arms. I splay out my fingers around his forearms and almost fall backward against the mirror with a moan.
He's really sexy.
And OK, so it's not like he's some famous rockstar or anything, but am I seriously in the bathroom fucking the talent like a groupie?
He pulls me close to the edge of the counter and then moves one hand over my crotch, "You're so wet." The way he says it makes me feel sexy. Normally hearing someone point that out to me would make me feel self-conscious, but right now I feel like a goddess as he slips his fingers under the edge of the lace and moves the back of his hand along my heat. His eye
s close and his head tips back with a long moan before he leans into me and kisses me again.
My hands are busy pulling open the button on his jeans and getting the zipper down so I can slide my hand into his boxer briefs-- that I'm slightly relieved to see are black, so at least the wine stains won't matter-- so I can wrap my fingers around that hard steel that I felt earlier.
Except, I can't quite wrap my fingers all the way around it and that makes me swallow hard and break away from his kiss with a gasp.
His lips sear their way across my jaw and down my throat as his fingers bury inside me, "Oh shit, you're hot," he mumbles against my neck as his hips move, thrusting that solid mass against my hand.
I pull it free and slide my hand down his length, tightening my grip at the base and delighting in the gasp I feel against my neck. His fingers slip in and out of me in time with my strokes along his shaft till I feel them slip out completely, pulling a disappointed moan from me at the loss.
His fingers twist in the lace at my hip but he doesn't tear them off. I'm a little relieved--and a little disappointed-- when he opts to roughly yank my panties over my ass and pull them free of my dangling feet instead.
He grabs my ass and pulls me to the edge of the counter. If it wasn't for his body between my thighs, I'd fall off the edge. His lips are on mine again, hungry and searching, as he grinds his naked cock against my pussy.
I'm hanging on to his neck to keep myself from falling over, but I can't resist getting my other hand under his shirt. Fuck, he's built. From the bulge of his biceps, to his corded shoulders, and ohmygod, that chest.
I very much would like to not be off balance and fumbling for a quickie on a bathroom counter, praying no one knocks on the door. This man's body deserves some attention.
Our kiss is reduced to a series of nips with lips and tongues as he reaches back and fishes for his wallet in the jeans that I've managed to mostly knock down to his knees, "Shit," he rasps as he tosses the open wallet onto the counter and pulls me against him to start a new hungry kiss, "no condoms," he whispers apologetically against my mouth, even as he slides the head of his cock between my folds.
I reach behind me, blindly fumbling for my purse. I find it and dig through it without taking my mouth of his, "here."
Between us we manage to tear the foil open and I toss the wrapper aside while he rolls the latex sheath down his length.
He grips my ass again and I feel the tip of him pressing against me, "What's your name?" His voice is barely more than breath as he locks his eyes on mine.
"Kendra," I gasp out as I feel him against me.
"Nice to meet you, Kendra," he smiles and kisses me gently in an way that suggests we aren't nearly as well acquainted as we are, "I'm Logan, you're going to need to know that in minute when you need something to scream."
His lips are tugged up in a smile as he introduces himself, but he doesn't hesitate before sliding into me.
"Ohhh." My head drops backward and I'm staring up at the ceiling while Logan's mouth dips between my breasts. "Fuuuck, Logan."
Like hearing me say his name ignites new need in him, he pulls my hips and my body takes him completely. His fingers tighten on my hips and he stills momentarily with a groan.
It gives me a second to adjust. He's thick and having him inside me feels...amazing.
"OK?" His voice is gravel and molasses, whispered against my cheek and I realize I might have invented a new noise when he got all the way inside me.
"I'm good," I nod, meeting his eyes. Up close I can see the gray-green band at the edge of his irises that makes them look darker than they really are.
He gives me a smile that's all mischief, "Yeah you are, baby. Let's go for great." With one more kiss he pulls back and begins thrusting.
Logan
I don't know what to think of Kendra but I do know that I'll be thinking about her a lot.
Every time I slam my dick into her she makes a noise that drives me to do it again until we're fucking furiously with her ass barely balanced on the bathroom counter while I hold her in my hands and her legs are wrapped around my waist with her thighs hanging on to me with a vice grip.
Shit, her thighs aren't the only thing with a vice grip on me right now.
I know it's a quickie in the womens' room but I'm still determined not to come too fast. Mostly because Kendra's pussy feels so fucking good clenching down on my cock that I don't want this to end and partly because I want to make sure I make it worth it for her to agree to see me again.
Her arms tighten around my neck and she pulls herself against my chest. I can feel her walls spasm around my shaft, milking my cock like she's begging for my seed. Her voice is a series of squeaks that sound like my name peppered with "fuck" and "God" and then I lose it.
I've got her entire ass in one palm, pulling her onto my cock while I brace our combined weight with one hand on the mirror over the counter while I come, filling the rubber.
We hang on to each other for a minute afterward. I'm sure she's just trying to catch her breath, and I'm pretty sure she wasn't exactly sober when we started this so for all I know, she just needs to keep her balance, but I'm just not ready to let her go yet.
She feels too good in my arms to let go.
I haven't quite caught my breath yet but I kiss her anyway. Finding her lips, I roll my tongue slowly with hers, taking my time, memorizing the way her lips feel on mine.
When she breaks away I open my eyes to see her looking at me. She's got these amazing hazel green eyes that are wide like she's surprised.
Shit. Am I not supposed to kiss her after? Fuck if I know how bathroom hookups work. All I know is I'm not done touching her.
I pull away and toss the condom as she wiggles off the counter. She straightens her clothes while I tuck myself back in and pull up my pants but I can't stop kissing her, touching her, "Let me take you home," I whisper against her ear as I wrap my arms around her and lightly stroke her breasts through her blouse.
I liked it better when her buttons were undone. I want to rip them off so she can't hide her tits from me again. I want to...shit, I'm getting hard again like a fucking teenager.
"Mmm," she moans, rocking her ass back against me, making me bite her neck to keep from pulling her panties to the side and bending her over the counter this time.
Fuck, I look up at our reflection in the mirror and I think about watching her face while I plow into her from behind and I'm fully erect again.
I've never had a problem getting it up, but I am at an age where it usually takes a little longer than this before I'm ready to go again, but all I can think about is how much I want a chance to take my time with this woman. Spread her out and learn every trick that makes her moan or gasp or scream my name.
"You don't have to do that, I was just going to call an Uber," she says as she looks at me through the mirror while she reaches into her purse and pulls out a comb.
I can't resist leaning down and wrapping my body around her. She fits against me perfectly and when I inhale against the nape of her neck my senses are overwhelmed by the sweet spice of her body and a hint of vanilla. The combination makes my head swim and I wonder what her pussy smells like.
"No." I catch her eyes in the mirror and hold them. I don't mean to sound like I'm giving her an order, but at same time, I kinda do, "I mean let me take you home." I pull her hair to the side and drag my tongue down her neck, loving the way she shivers, "I'm not done with you, Kendra."
Kendra
I have no idea what makes me go with him.
Hah! That's not true! I totally know what makes me go with him. It's the way his tongue crawls over my skin leaving nothing but flaming desire in its wake. The way his hands slide up over my breasts and pinch my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers till I'm arching my back against him and panting for him to keep going.
The way my body is still singing from being so completely filled by his cock. Knowing I want more. I want to get him naked and lick every di
p and ridge of the muscles on his chest and I still want to feel that sandpaper skin on his face between my thighs.
I can't even blame the wine anymore, by the time Logan grabs the last handful of his gear and says goodnight to his buddy that owns this place, I'm sober as a judge.
Logan opens the door of the black Suburban and helps me step up on the running boards, giving my ass a firm caress just before I settle into the front passenger seat and he closes the door behind me.
He doesn't live far, we don't really have time to chat on the drive much beyond him asking me if I'm having second thoughts.
I giggle like a teenager and then apologize but I can't help wonder if his question means that he's the one that's come to his senses. When I hesitate, his hand falls to my knee and moves up my thigh.
"I meant it," he says in that warm voice that flows through me, making me lose all sense, "I want you in my bed where I can take my time with your body like it deserves."
He turns into one of the newer housing developments in town. A nice one with trees planted along the sidewalk that will mature into a lovely canopy over the next several years or so. He reaches up to tap the button on his sunvisor and the garage door of one of the larger 2 story models slides open.
The SUV pulls into the garage and the door closes behind us. It's a 3 car garage, but the Suburban is the only one inside. The space next to us is empty and the space at the far end is taken up with work out equipment, a small refrigerator, a pub height table with some bar stools, and a dartboard.
Logan meets me on my side of the car and helps me out, leaving his guitar and other gear in the back.
For a second we stare at each other blankly and for the first time since I sloshed a glass of wine on his crotch, he seems nervous. I start to say something, not sure if I should break the tension with a joke or what, when he takes the matter into his own hands with a kiss.
Leaning in with his hands bracing the back of my head, kissing me slow and deep till I'm breathless and clinging to him for support.
A Real Keeper: Arranged Marriage Romance Page 3
