by Mary Potter
BRIANNA
O ne thing I notice about Brandon, it’s the way he looks into my eyes when I talk. Some guys can’t take their eyes off my chest. It comes with the whole package. When you’re curvy, you’ve got a little extra to display. It’s more than garnishing on the sides. Sometimes men just want to see everything upfront and never want to peruse the rest of the menu to see the entire entrée selection.
Brandon’s the kind of man who respects women. It’s in the eyes, a polite manner, and I caught him looking a few times. But he never makes it distinct. I think about what he’s interested in, because it seems more than the cut of my dress or the shape of my breasts molded by the material. He’s not trying to ploy me or sauté me with small talk. I see he has a genuine interest in me. I feel there is a lot more to him than a sharply dressed older man who isn’t afraid to wear tight pants that show off more than a flat stomach and a small waist.
There is one thing I see in Brandon: he has all the ingredients made for love.
“What did you like today that I made?” I ask. It’s late. I know the cleaning crews are finishing in the banquet halls. I know they save the kitchens for last because I’ve used the place before.
Brandon smiles before he says, “I think that’s a trick question. You already know I didn’t sample any of your dishes tonight.”
I smile warmly. I know there’s a tete-a-tete that follows something benign but is a double entendre. Brandon’s giving away his sharp intelligence. It’s as pronounced as the huge package in his slacks. It’s impossible not to notice the definition under the bright fluorescent lighting. I think Brandon caught me looking a few times because he’s a guy, and he’s confident. One thing I know about confident guys, it might have more to do with what’s in his pants than what’s in his genes. One thing about Brandon, I think it’s a little of both.
He moves a little closer to me. I know he’s going to share something encouraging. There’s a playfulness about Brandon that makes me tingle. I know whatever happens through the rest of the night, sometime in the very new future I will masturbate thinking about that whole package. From top to bottom, and all the warm gooeyness in-between, Brandon is a dessert that’s hot and creamy. And I haven’t even had a taste yet.
“Are you leaving soon?” The question comes from the annoyed-looking young man with the straggly hair and untucked golf shirt uniform. He calls from the other side of the kitchen and performs the perfect coïtus interruptus, and we haven’t begun the appetizers yet.
“Yes, Leon, sorry,” I say. It’s abrupt, and I feel a little put-out by his sudden appearance. I don’t blame him. It’s late on a Friday night. He has other places to go after he’s finished with the rest of the crew.
“Let me help you with loading your SUV,” Brandon says. He’s already collecting several layers of metal serving trays and lids. It’s a feat of physical marvel that shows off his biceps when he lifts the dishes.
I grab the rest of the trays. We’re finished in the kitchen. Leon doesn’t wait for the door to close before he turns off the overhead lights. We’re outside; Brandon walks behind me along the sidewalk in the back of the Palace of Fine Arts to the staff parking lot.
“How did you know I drive an SUV?” I ask. It’s in answer to his specific offer to help.
“Security detail,” Brandon says. “Did you think I forgot to check all the plates in the parking lots?”
“All of them?”
“Yup.”
“So, that means you know where I live.”
"I do now, yes. Is that a bad thing?" Brandon asks.
“I’m not sure yet.”
Chapter 5
BRANDON
T he SUV has the entire back row of seats flat to allow for extra room. It’s cluttered but not messy. Brianna opens the rear door as we approach. I know I took too many trays, but I wanted an excuse to get out of the kitchen. This way, we don’t have to make two trips. One thing I know about the closeness of the right person; you don’t want to lose that advantage once it happens.
“Oh no,” Brianna says. She sees one of the trays leaked over my front. “Your shirt, it’s going to stain. Take it off.”
I give her the look of mock shock, but I’m happy to oblige her. We’re alone in the staff parking lot in the back row of the art center. Brianna’s SUV sits alone under the streetlamp. I take off my shirt for her and watch her face change as she sees the definition of my chest. I work out; I know how to stay lean and muscular. I see Brianna using a laundry detergent stick on the stained shirt. I’m standing close enough to her that I can smell the sweet pomegranate and honey scent of her hair; or maybe it’s her skin. I take a deep breath and wait. I feel my cock stirring. It’s the proximity. It’s the spontaneity.
“You asked me what I sampled of your catered delights tonight.”
Brianna has the shirt laid out in the back of the SUV. She’s scrubbing with the stick. I see the repetitive motion of her arm, the way she’s trying to concentrate on the shirt, but I know she’s thinking about how close her sleeve is to my stomach.
Brianna stops stroking the laundry pen on the shirt. She turns to me. There’s a heated look on her face, her cheeks flush. I see the doe-eyed look in her eyes.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“What I want tonight wasn’t on the buffet table.”
BRIANNA
I think if I heard that line from any other guy at any other time, I’d find it blasé or cliché, and downright generic. But there’s something about Brandon that I can feel deep inside me that says he’s not bluffing or feeding me a pick-up line.
I know he’s interested, because he’s close to me while I attempt to salvage the silky button-down shirt. It smells like Brandon, the heady male scent that makes my thighs ache, and my loins burn.
It's his closeness, the fact I can feel his warm sweet breath on my face when I turn to him, which makes me give in to the temptation of lust. There's a place inside all of us that needs to let go; to have an experience that is once in a lifetime. If I decide to have that experience with this tall, handsome cop, I know it's because I choose it.
His left hand reaches out to me. I feel his fingers touch my arm. My dress has quarter-sleeves, perfect for serving food without dipping cuffs into everyone’s dish choice. His fingertips run down my right arm crossing the barrier between cotton-blend and bare flesh. The moment Brandon’s fingers touch my skin, my body comes alive. I feel goosebumps climb up my arm, prickle my neck, and my nipples suddenly wake up in my lacy bra. The tight top of the dress does a good job of concealing my erect nipples. Brandon knows what he’s done to me, and I want another serving.
Chapter 6
BRANDON
B rianna tastes like delicious, creamy goodness. Her mouth is alive, and she turns to kiss me once I touch her. She feels magical in my arms. Her hand drops the laundry stick, and she forgets about the shirt. I feel her hot hands on my chest as I kiss her mouth. She whimpers over my tongue when my hands reach around behind her and caress her luscious ass. Brianna has a nice heart-shaped ass. I feel her press against me.
When she breaks the kiss it’s with a gasp because my fingers are tracing the shape of her body. Brianna pushes her face against my bare chest.
“Oh,” she says through her sighs. Her hands trace up my front and run simultaneously up my chest and over my shoulders. Brianna’s mouth finds my left nipple. Its an incredible sensation that many women don’t realize how its such a turn on for men too. Brianna can feel me leaning back while her tongue traces my nipple. Her teeth lightly nibble on it.
“We shouldn’t do this here.”
Her words bring me to my senses. I open my eyes and scan the parking lot. She’s right. There’s an air of professionalism we should maintain even though I’m off duty. I finished my shift the moment the mayor left the property. We’re outside because Brianna completed her work. Now all I can think is how much I want her.
I nod because I can’t find the words to disagree.
> BRIANNA
T here is a moment at the beginning of a relationship when you feel some trepidation. It sometimes happens after a kiss, or the first time opening your legs to a lover. Yet, with Brandon, I feel a profound, intense longing that is undeniable. He is a man who knows what he wants. He’s tall, attractive, and the confidence that comes from him is as prominent as the definition of his hard cock in those tight pants.
I know he’s wondering if this was a tease, a taste, a test of something that may or may not happen tonight. I need to tell Brandon my intentions.
I find it incredibly easy to say, “With or without you, tonight I am going to fuck you hard.”
It’s the way he smiles that makes me know in no uncertain terms that Brandon isn’t a one-night kind of guy. He’s got a lifetime of experience, and I see he wants to share some of that with me. Before I know it, Brandon leads me away from the open hatch. He activates the overhead door, and it closes, snuffing out the dome light, and we head away along the small path through the floral gardens.
“There’s a place I want to show you,” he says. I let him lead me into the dark.
Chapter 7
BRANDON
B rianna’s wearing stockings. I feel the subtle texture of the nylons against my fingers when I reach under the hem of her dress. In the dark, out in the open, we’re free as teenagers exploring each other’s bodies with an openness that is beyond anything I thought possible.
Brianna reaches for my belt as I kiss her mouth again. Her fingers work on the buckle and the leather belt with a sense of urgency. I know we're safe from prying eyes in this part of the floral gardens. I've walked the paths day and night a few times on various assignments. There's a long, wide bench near the botanical garden. Blooms surround us. We can't see them in the dark, but their fragrance washes over us; California poppies, rhododendrons, and western columbines. The smells find us in the dark.
I feel Brianna's fingers press against the fabric of my boxer-briefs. I hear her moan at the touch of my cock through the material. She wants me, she wants to feel it, but Brianna wants to make it last, and so do I. Her hand glides along the shaft of my stiff cock running horizontally in my shorts. I know she looked at the outline of my cock a few times in the evening. I wanted her to see it. Now, I want her to feel it. Before she can free it from the elastic, I grab her arms in both hands and draw her to me again for a kiss.
BRIANNA
B randon doesn’t want to rush it. He’s got a thick cock that’s begging to get out of those shorts. I saw it lengthening and thickening while we were in the kitchen. Outside, in the dark, in the wide-open, Brandon is a gentleman. He wants to explore my body before I take all of him.
I feel his hands running over my hips and the curves of my ass. His fingers are thick and firm, and he has big hands. They are proportionate to the size of that cock I haven’t seen, but that I want to feel and taste. Brandon’s hands pull at my dress, gathering it up. I’m still wearing it, but now it’s around my waist.
His fingers gently, expertly roll down the nylons. I want to help, but he’s careful about having me sit on the bench. Brandon focuses on removing my stockings. It’s not glamorous, but it’s not a disaster. I take a deep breath and tip back my head to open my eyes. That’s when I see the stars flickering in the cloudless night sky.
When I’m ready to say something to Brandon about the night, I feel his whiskers on the inside of my thigh. He’s breathing deep. I’m on fire, and I am so wet. His hands run up the insides of my legs. I feel two hands join at my waist as Brandon presses his face against my panties. He breathes in deep. This time when he lets out the sigh, I feel it warm against my moist pussy lips through the thin, lacy panties.
His thumbs caress the threads of my panties. He can feel the outline of my pussy through the material. Brandon reaches up to hook his fingers under the stretchy top of my panties. I lift my hips so Brandon can pull off the last of my inhibition. Once he’s got my panties off, I see Brandon slip the balled up prize into the pocket of his pants. Then Brandon comes back to me. He kisses me again.
Chapter 8
BRANDON
T here are some sensations and tastes that are so intense and erotic that I want to cum in my slacks before I’ve had a chance to slip my aching cock into Brianna. She has such a powerful effect on me. I can’t believe that I’ve been on earth this long without her near me. Now I’ve had a taste of Brianna, and I know it is forever.
My lips press against her supple pussy lips. She’s shaved some of the top and sides, and the rest is neatly trimmed. My face rubs against the soft inside of her thigh. I can feel her shifting against my mouth. I know she wants more, but it’s the anticipation that makes it so much better. I have her sitting on the park bench in near darkness. It’s only us and the stars. The light breeze playing in the tree branches sounds like the leaves applauding me for going down on Brianna. It is an exquisite experience, and I want it to last. I open my mouth against her wetness and run my tongue against her lips.
Brianna shudders against my mouth. I look up to see her head tipped back. She’s not looking down on me. She’s enjoying the sensation of my tongue tracing her flesh and slipping deeper into her. My hands move up her sides. I play with her nipples through the top of the dress. I feel the erect nipples through the dress, and my tongue slips deeper into her. She whimpers again, and it’s one sound that makes my cock flex involuntarily.
BRIANNA
T he delicate and tender touch and probing of Brandon’s tongue inside me is a divine sensation. He’s gentle and knows exactly how to make me feel like a woman, and he hasn’t put his big cock in me yet. Instead, Brandon kneels on the flagstones in front of the bench. His fingers squeeze my nipples. It’s a fantastic feeling, but it’s as if he already knows what I want from him. At the moment I think about it, Brandon’s hands move down my front again.
He shifts slightly, and his head turns between my thighs. Brandon positions himself in a way that I’m waiting for his next revealing pleasures.
Chapter 9
BRANDON
I can taste all of Brianna. She’s like every incredible sugary and velvety thing I’ve had in my mouth. I turn slightly so I can run my fingers up her naked calf and up her hot thigh. My tongue finds her sweet spot. Her clit is pulsating against my tongue, and I am ready to make Brianna feel the first of many orgasms to come tonight. I flick her clit with my tongue, and I feel her thighs trembling against my cheeks. I pull back slightly, suck on my two fingers before I gently slide my fingers into her pussy. My tongue finds her clit again. I work my fingers in and out of Brianna. She’s under a spell. Her legs are wide open to me and the world. Her fingers find my scalp, and she’s moving my head slightly to help my mouth and tongue find the magic button that will send her over the edge.
“Right there,” she whispers into the night. “Faster,” she says. “Deeper,” she adds.
It’s in the rhythmic movement of her body on the bench, that encouraging momentum that has me fingering her harder and faster while my mouth works against her clit. My tongue expertly quivers against her clit as I feel her muscles tighten around my digits.
“Yes, yes. Right there, so close.” She’s lost in her ecstasy. Brianna wants me to finger her faster and harder while I continue flicking my tongue against the swelling nub of her clit. She’s so close now. I can taste it. I can feel her tightening around my fingers inside, while her thighs draw closer to the sides of my head. Her legs are trembling uncontrollably.
When the orgasm rushes out of her, Brianna cries out, and her voice is a pitch of rapture. She’s pumping against my hand. I can feel her wetness over my chin and running down my fingers. She’s vibrating and pulsating as the orgasm continues to pulse through her.
BRIANNA
B randon made me explode with his tongue and his fingers deep inside me. He’s kissing my pussy and still rubbing inside me, but it’s slower because he senses that my delight subsided momentarily.
I grab at
his head, and I want to share my taste with him. I kiss his mouth when he pulls free from between my thighs. I taste my pussy on his lips. There’s slick wetness on his chin that mingles with me. I want him inside me. I need him.
“Please,” I say through my panting. “I want you.”
I push him away to break the kiss. Brandon stands up for me to finish pulling off his pants. He proficiently steps out of his dress shoes and skillfully shrugs out of his slacks. He drops his pants on the ground over my footwear.
He pulls my hands, so I stand on weak legs to kiss him again. I feel his cock through the dress and the material of his underwear. He reaches down and slips off the boxer-briefs. Naked in the night, it’s impossible to see details of him. Brandon is uninhibited, and when he kisses me again, this time, I feel the heaviness of his massive cock stab at the groin of my dress. It is a cock worth the wait. He’s hard, and I want to feel him.
Brandon turns me around, facing the bench. His hands climb up my legs under the dress. He hitches up my skirt, and I lean forward. It's a night I will never forget. We will look back forever, remembering our wondrous night in the botanical garden. I can't breathe, and I can't think of anything except Brandon's cock.
I grip the back of the bench and arch my back. It doesn't take much for Brandon to press the perfect round head of his cock against my opening. I feel his hardness through the soft flesh of his cock head. I welcome his hand, guiding the tip into me. He's penetrating me, and there is that incredible taboo moment when I know it's wrong. Still, it feels so incredibly right that it's impossible to stop. I don't want him to stop. I want Brandon to take me forever.
