by Haley Nix
Hey, Bronson. I’m actually free tonight, so sounds good to me :)
I was thinking though, since this is our first time meeting each other, would you maybe want to keep it a bit more casual? We could grab a pizza or something and just get to know each other. Does that work for you?
-Angie
Minutes later, he messaged me back.
Hi, Angie. I think that sounds like a great idea. I know of a great place, that always has sports on TV. It’s got a good atmosphere, quiet enough to talk, but not too quiet. How does that sound?
Bronson
I wrote back again to confirm and sent him my number, telling him to text me the name of the place and that I would meet him there around 7:30 PM. Soon enough, my phone buzzed again and it was a text message from a new number with the name of the pizza shop.
It looked like things were actually in motion. Too bad I still had several hours of work to kill. Ugh, please let me make it out alive!
Chapter Five
By the time five o’clock finally rolled around I was quick to make my way out of the office before my boss could ask me to stay late again. Sure, I had plenty of time until 7:30 PM, but I needed to shower and change clothes.
Deciding what to wear was going to take a long time in and of itself. I figured I could always ask my roommate her opinion; I knew she’d steer me in the right direction.
Unfortunately, my roommate wasn’t home when I arrived back at the apartment, so I decided to call Becky and ask her to come over.
“Becks, I am in serious crisis mode. I need help deciding what to wear tonight. I think this is the first date I’ve actually been excited about.”
“What time do you have to meet him?” asked Becky.
“7:30,” I said, my voice impatient and a bit stressed.
“That’s plenty of time. I’m getting in my car now. I’ll be over in about twenty minutes.”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”
I hung up and hopped in the shower. By the time I got out, Becky would be arriving. When I heard the knock at the door, I let her in and explained all the details.
“So, we’re going more casual, but I still want to look pretty, you know?”
“Of course. Where are you going?”
“Some pizza place. My suggestion. I didn’t want there to be any pressure.”
“That’s good. I think that was a smart idea. OK, so dresses are out of the question?”
“I think? I don’t know. You tell me.”
“Do you have a favorite pair of jeans? Something that makes your butt look good?”
“Umm, yes. Yeah, I do.”
“Are they nice jeans, or kind of old and worn in?”
“They’re pretty nice. They were expensive, anyway.”
“Ok, go get them. I want to see you try them on.”
I went to my bedroom, still in my towel, and got my jeans out of the closet, slipping them on and pulling them up to my waist. The fit was tight, but good. I knew they did a lot of justice to my curves.
“Let me see here,” said Becky. She gave my butt a little pinch. “These are good. They really show off your assets.”
“Ha, thanks.”
“Now what about a blouse. Do you have something maybe a bit sexier, lowcut?”
“Becky, it’s March. It’s still freezing outside.”
“I know, but you can layer on a nice little cardigan. And you’ll be wearing a jacket when you’re outside, of course. Trust me here, Angie, I know what I’m doing.”
Becky went into my closet and grabbed a top she liked and tossed it to me. I put it on and modeled it for her.
“Perfection. Just the right amount of cleavage, not slutty, but not too innocent either. Now, what are we doing for makeup?”
Chapter Six
When it was time to head out, Becky had me looking absolutely gorgeous. I was certainly putting my best foot forward. As we headed out the door, she stopped me, putting her hands on my shoulders and looking me in the eyes.
“Angie, I want you to know that you look beautiful right now. Any guy would be lucky to have you. Be confident, OK?”
“Thanks, Becks. You’ve been so helpful tonight.”
“And what are you doing right after the date ends?” she asked, giving me a mischievous look.
“Calling you to give you the details?” I guessed.
“Good girl,” she said as she gave me a big hug. “Good luck and have fun.”
As I walked to my car, my heels clicked on the cold pavement of the parking lot. The heels were Becky’s idea, of course, but I had to admit they added a bit of sophistication to the look. I felt good after all of Becky’s help and encouraging words. I would do my best to remember them when I finally got to the restaurant.
Unfortunately, I was a bit behind schedule. I hoped that my lateness wouldn’t send a bad impression. I texted Bronson to give him a heads up so that he would know I wasn’t standing him up or anything.
When I got to the restaurant, I parked and headed inside. It was surprisingly crowded for a weeknight. Then I remembered, it was March Madness, so a ton of college basketball games were on and everyone was sitting around drinking beer and munching on pizza.
I looked through the tables of people to find Bronson. It took me awhile, but towards the back of the restaurant I found him sitting alone in a booth. It was unmistakably him, a Budweiser bottle in hand, eyes trained up at one of the games on a large flat screen that hung off the ceiling about fifteen feet away.
I put on a big smile and walked over. When he saw me coming, he got up to say hello. A small, but charming gesture which I appreciated.
At first we made the typical small talk. You know, how are you?, how was work?, the weather outside, things like that. Bronson waived over a waiter so that I could order a drink. Then we decided on what type of pizza to get.
Truthfully, I wasn’t that hungry. I hadn’t eaten in a while, but I was still very nervous and my stomach was tied up in knots, at least for those first few minutes. So I decided to let Bronson pick whatever he wanted.
But after a few sips of my beer, I started to loosen up. I didn’t know much about college basketball, so I asked Bronson a few questions and had him explain things to me.
“Who’s your favorite team?”
“Kentucky,” he said. “My family is from that area. My younger brother goes there. And I graduated about six years ago.”
“So it’s a family tradition.”
He laughed.
“Yeah, something like that. Don’t worry,” he added with a wink, “they’re not on TV tonight, so I won’t be too distracted.”
He asked me some questions about my job and I answered them. I hated talking about my job, it was always so boring, but he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know about me, so I gave him the best answers I could. But eventually I blurted out the truth.
“Actually, I really don’t like my job,” I said. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Of course,” said Bronson, taking a sip of his beer.
“Can I tell you something?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this. I haven’t told anyone this, but for some reason I feel like telling you. For the longest time I’ve wanted to be an author.”
“Yeah?”
That seemed to pique his interest, he leaned across the table, his eyes and face more attentive than before.
“Yes. And I’ve written a few short stories, but I don’t know what the next step is. It’s hard to be a successful author. I certainly couldn’t make enough money to quit my job.”
“But you write on the side?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, I think that’s great. I think the best thing to do is just keep up with it and see what happens. You never know what will happen until you really give it a shot. Now, I’m not saying quit your job by any means, but keep working at it. You might be surprised.”
Telling someone abou
t my dreams, about my true passion felt great. Finally, I’d gotten it off my chest, and Bronson’s response let me know the kind of person he was. I know a lot of people would have just laughed, or smirked, or told me it was too late or too difficult. They would have told me to be realistic. To give up.
Our pizza came out soon. Bronson ordered us a few more beers and we laughed and chatted for the better part of two hours. Long after the food was gone, we were still talking. He was easy to talk to. But soon enough the place was closing and we had to head out into the cold night air of mid March.
“Angie, this was really fun. We need to do this again – soon.”
“Definitely,” I said.
Then I took a risk. I leaned in and pouted my lips. Bronson knew what to do; he leaned in too and gave me a kiss, wet and flawless.
“Goodnight, Angie. I’ll call you.”
“Goodnight.”
I walked out to my car, silent, but ecstatic, cheering inside. YES, YES, YES. He was great. I couldn’t believe I’d actually met someone like this. I didn’t wait to get home before calling Becky. I needed to spill this news to someone. I felt so good, so over the top excited. It would be very hard getting to sleep tonight, I knew that much.
Chapter Seven
Over the next few weeks, the connection between Bronson and I grew stronger. He was the consummate gentleman – kind, but strong. He treated me right. He treated me like a lady. He wasn’t in it for the short term, or for casual sex or a one night stand.
At the end of our fifth date, I decided I was trying to go home with him. I wanted some action, and Bronson had proved to me that he was worth it. So, I started making subtle hints in that direction.
“Hey, I just realized. I still haven’t met Duke. When are you going to let me play with him?”
He laughed.
“Ahh, so I see. You’re just dating me to get to me dog,” he said with a wink.
“You caught me. That’s it. I’m just in it for the dog.”
“I have to admit, I kind expected that to be the case,” he said with another friendly laugh. “What would you say to coming back to my place and meeting him tonight?”
“I think that’s a great plan.”
“Alright, let me get the check and we’ll go.”
After Bronson had paid up, we walked out to the parking lot. He opened the passenger door of the big red F-150 for me and helped me in. We headed back to his apartment. Outside his front door we stopped.
“Now, I have to warn you. He’s still very much a pup. He’s a big ball of energy.”
“It’s OK, I like that,” I said.
“Alright, I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
As soon as Bronson opened the door I could hear Duke barking inside. He raced through the living room around the couch to the door and planted himself at my feet, looking up at me with big brown eyes and panting, his tail wagging furiously. I kneeled down to grab him by the ears and pet him vigorously on the neck.
“Well, it looks like you two like each other,” said Bronson, reaching down to give Duke a gentle pat on the side. “You like her, boy? Me too.”
Bronson pulled me up and into his big arms, giving me a deep kiss. We walked over to the couch and popped on some Netflix. Duke bounded over and stole the spot on the couch next to me.
“Oh, boy, you’re really gonna play me like that?” said Bronson, patting him on the head. “My own dog stealing my girlfriend.”
The last word made me do something like a double take. It was the first time he’d called me that. I had to admit, I rather liked it.
We watched a movie together, and it was perfect. Bronson got out a bottle of wine (which I realized he must have bought for me, he certainly didn’t drink it) and poured himself a glass of bourbon. It was relaxing and pleasant. At the end of the movie, he turned to me.
“Angie, I was wondering… would you want to stay over tonight?”
YES, YES, YES, YES! I thought to myself. But I couldn’t exactly say it like that.
“Yeah,” I said. “Probably for the best. I think we’ve had too much to drive, plus I’m kind of tired.”
“Good, I’m glad,” he said, reaching over to squeeze my hand.
I don’t think I even need to say that I was glad, too.
Chapter Eight
Before I knew it we were in the bedroom, our hands roaming over each other’s bodies. We’d both waited so long for this and now we had a ton of pent up lust that needed to be released.
My heart was racing, everything happening so quickly. Our wet lips pressed together, bodies touching. Going in for a hot, long kiss, he held me there, our tongues swirling and intertwining, wet mouths parting for the hot, wet suck of a passionate kiss. Finally, I was getting what I wanted.
But suddenly, I pulled my head away from him, pushing myself back so I could get a good look at him in the dim light of his bedroom. The blinds were open, so moonlight streamed through the window, adding definition and shadow to his broad chest and big arms.
I ran my hands across his abs and up his chest, over his shoulders and down his arms. He was built for battle, a solider with a body trained for combat, trained for surviving in the harshest circumstances. But tonight, he’d be getting my sweetness, my passion. I hoped he could handle that, too.
His body was pure perfection, muscular yet sleek, the physical embodiment of power and braveness. I squeezed his bicep and he tensed, showing me the raw force that was contained within his big body. I felt myself getting wet, my desire rising within me, like the heat of the Middle Eastern sun.
I was hot, almost feverish with lust, waiting for him to take me, for that one touch that would melt me with all its intrinsic pleasure. As I worked my hands across his body, taking in every contour and intricacy of his built frame, he began to gently pull off my blouse, lifting it up over my head to expose my chest.
He reached back with confidence and unhooked my bra, pushing the straps of my bra off of my shoulders, revealing my full, supple breasts. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and I liked that, I liked the way be just did what he wanted with me. He was gentleman, to be sure. But I also knew he was ready to give me the good hard fuck that I craved from his powerful body.
For a moment, I was slightly self-conscious, sitting there with my chest exposed. He cupped one breast in each hand and brought his face down towards them, his scruff brushing against my nipples, sending a brief wave of pleasure through me with the sensation.
He lapped at them with his tongue, licking expertly and intricately. I could feel my nipples hardening with the stimulation, his swirling motion making my body want him so much more, far wetter now that before, wanting him inside me at any cost. I clutched his head, pulling him into me, maneuvering him upwards for a kiss.
I kissed him deeply, knowing he wanted me as we exchanged wetness between us. I’d never had anyone quite like this before. More turned on than I could ever have imagined, I knew that if he held out for too much longer I would be begging for his cock. He was driving me insane right now. I wanted him to give it to me hard, to have his way with me. I was here for the taking and I would do anything his heart desired.
I fell back on the bed and he hovered over me, his large body, pressed to mine, his hands working this way across my breasts, then down my sides and over my ass. He gave a passionate squeeze as he pulled me into him. I could feel a hard bulge in his pants, pressed into my leg as we kissed furiously on the bed.
He gave me one last deep kiss before making his way down my neck and over my breasts, stopping to gently lick each one once more. Then he kissed down my stomach and towards my crotch. He started to undo my jeans, unzipping them and sliding them off of me.
I did my best to help, excited as I was with anticipation of what was bound to happen next. Then he deftly pulled off my panties. Suddenly I found myself completely naked before him, waiting for him to take me at his will.
He grabbed my legs, pushing his face down towards my soaking wet slit. My
thighs pressed against his head as he held me, kissing down towards my clit. Then I felt the flash of his tongue dancing its pleasure on me. He lapped at my pussy, making circular motions with his tongue as I writhed beneath him in pleasure. He held my legs, steadying me as I succumbed to his advances.
He ran hit tongue along my lips, penetrating me slightly before moving back up to my clit. He sucked gently on me. Then I gasped, as two large fingers pushed their way inside me.
I flung my arms back over my head, my eyes rolling backwards as I arched my back. His touch only made me more insatiable. Whatever satisfaction it provided was cancelled out by the yearning it caused deep within me to have his cock inside me, stretching my folds with his thrusts.
I wouldn’t have to wait long. I heard his pants drop and his belt clattering to the floor. Bronson stood before me in the dim light, I could hardly see him in the darkness and my sex-crazed delirium. I felt his tip rubbing up against my lips, teasing me in those final moments before consummation. Then he pushed himself inside me, his first thrust deep and smooth. I gasped, unprepared for the size of his massive cock, touching me at the very depths of my core.
As he stroked powerfully inside me, the slight tinge of pain I’d felt upon penetration began to subside. I worked in concert with him, playing to his rhythm, moving my hips to meet his thrusts in shared ecstasy. I hadn’t felt anything like this in a long time, maybe ever. This was what it felt like to be alive, completely submersed in the moment, unconscious of anything besides the waves of bliss that rolled through me, shaking me and seizing every inch of my body in cathartic rapture.
His thrusts grew faster and more forceful as he plunged deeper and deeper inside me, pressing his pelvis into mine, as I bounced on the bed, clenching my pussy to increase the pleasure of his every thrust. He leaned in to kiss me, long and wet and almost violent in its passion.
