Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Just A Date

I knew the way to Denise’s parents’ house well from high school days. Now, four and a half years later, I was driving back over to see her. I arrived at 5:30 just as I said I would and rang the bell. I felt weird waiting for the door to open. The last time I saw her she was in her wedding dress. I remembered how good she looked that day. In high school she carried a bit of baby fat which was nonexistent as she stood there in that white dress in the church. I wondered if she still had that slender look. I wondered if she was divorced. I wondered if this date was a very good idea.

The door opened and Denise had a huge smile for me. Her warm hug might have lingered a split second too long. She had on flared-leg jeans, a pale yellow clingy top, and a dark tweedy looking jacket. As she turned to lead me into the little ranch house I noticed she walked like she was in high heels—but I couldn’t tell for sure as the pants were so long and wide at the bottom. She definitely had the look of the woman I saw at the wedding two and a half years earlier more than the girl I dated in high school.

The living room wasn’t much different than the last time I was there making out with her on the couch while Marcus Welby M.D. or Mannix blared away on the same Zenith color TV. Back then we would kiss for hours, and I’d feel her up through her shirt while she put her hand on my hard-on through my pants all the while listening for her mom and dad or bother and sister coming into the living room. Of course out in the car somewhere we’d go farther and finally, one night at the river, we fucked for the first time.

I avoided sitting on the couch and dropped down in her dad’s wide recliner and she sat in her mom’s usual chair with a floor lamp between us. Time flew as we caught up. I noticed a few things. She was wearing black leather boots with very high heels under those flare-bottom jeans. Her hair was cut a little bit longer than the last time I saw her but was still a short style and the dirty blond color was full of lighter streaks. I think it was called “frosted” back then—maybe it still is, but it wasn’t much different than what’s called "highlights" now. But, I've never been a hairdresser so what do I know. It looked good. Very little make-up other than light lipstick but lots of rings, bracelets, and dangling earrings. Among those rings were a matching pair of hand-crafted bands on the ring finger of her left hand, one of which looked to have a small diamond.

We talked about everybody we both knew and what they were doing. We talked about the job I was moving to next week and how cold it would be out there in the "Wild, Wild, West." We talked about my family. We talked about her family and I learned that her parents were in Florida—they left the day after Christmas and would be gone for ten days. She filled me in on her sister’s new baby and her juvenile delinquent brother who had grown up to become a non-juvenile delinquent. It was after 6 when I finally asked her about her marriage. They were not divorced but they were getting a divorce. He had never worked a day since their marriage, she did everything, it was a terrible mistake, and on and on. I didn’t want to dwell on any of that but I did ask about her still wearing the rings.
“I had them made by an artist I know. I paid for them,” she said, “And I like them so I've just kept wearing them.”
Then she added, “I thought about taking them off before you came over but figured you wouldn’t care. It doesn’t bother you does it?”
“No,” I said.
We sat there looking at each other. It was quiet. I realized we were alone and nobody was coming in that door or out of a bedroom to bother us. I thought about taking her to the couch or to her old bedroom but before I moved she got up and walked over to the big recliner.
“Scooch over,” she said.
I moved to the right and she sat down—partly next to me and partly on me, her legs thrown over mine and her ass on the seat. She was turned towards me and I turned towards her, put my left arm around her shoulders and we kissed. After a long, soft, gentle kiss I pulled back to look at her. We just stared at each other for a while before coming together for a far more hungry, and longer kiss. During that kiss my right hand figured out that she wasn’t wearing a bra under that clingy yellow top and that her nipples still got as hard as bullets when we touched each other. Some good things never change.

It wasn’t terribly comfortable jammed in the chair and after a few minutes Denise had me help her to her feet. Standing, she turned, put her hands out for mine, and said, “C’mon, I got you a going away present. Something you can take with you out there to stay warm.”
I followed her to her room. It was the same tiny room I remembered but now it had suitcases and boxes, and bags, jammed in it—the stuff she’d brought when she moved in from her recently busted marriage.

“OK. Stand right there,” she said as she positioned me, standing with my back to her little twin bed. “Now close your eyes while I get your gift. Don’t you dare open them until I say you can.”
I closed my eyes and heard her rattling some shopping bags. What the hell would she buy for me? This went on for a minute or so. Then it was very quiet in the room.
“You can open them now,” she said. And as I did she was right in front of me. As soon as my eyes opened she started to unzip my pants and she went to her knees in front of me.
I looked down at her. She had taken her jacket off but other than that she was completely dressed. I heard the jangle of her bracelets as she undid my belt, unbuttoned my pants, and pulled them part way down. By the time she got my cock out of my shorts it was hard. She wrapped her left hand around the root and began working the tip with her tongue and lips. I was watching all of this without uttering a sound but the pounding in my ears was as loud as a freight train.
She went right to it. Stroking and licking. She looked up at me and said, “I’ve been thinking of nothing but this all day.”
I was speechless. She was way ahead of me. While I was still thinking about whether she was married or divorced that afternoon she was thinking about sucking my cock.
All I could do is moan and put my fingers in her hair while she worked my cock like there was no tomorrow. It didn’t take long before I didn’t care if there was a tomorrow.
She swallowed almost all of it—she only lost a little on her clingy top and some stayed on her chin.
Then she looked up and said, “You are much bigger than I remember, Wil. I’ve never swallowed so much cum in my life. I didn’t think you'd ever stop.”

I fell back on the bed. “It couldn’t be helped, 'Nise. Somewhere deep in the brain of any male mammal is the notion that when in competition for a highly desirable female an overproduction of semen gives your sperm a better chance of winning the race to the egg.”
“Did they teach you that at college?”
“Self-educated on some things,” I said as she slid next to me across her bed.
“Well, tell your brain or your balls that your sperm can’t get to my eggs through my mouth.”
We both laughed. Then she rolled on top of me and we kissed deeply. I slid her top up over her tits and held them, pinched them, rubbed them, sucked them and tugged on her nipples. I started to unbuckle the belt on her bell bottoms.

“Don’t Wil, we don’t have time now. Seriously. C’mon, we have to get to the restaurant,” Denise said.
“Fine with me. I’m hungry and I just got a great blow job. All I need now is a beer,” I said.
“Oh, I’m not done with you tonight, Mister. Just make sure you remember where you were.”

We got to the restaurant just a few minutes late. We would have been on time but Denise wanted to change out of her cum-stained top. On the way over I thought about how she had taken me by surprise with my "present." I should have seen that coming, I suppose.
But, the night was still very young. Walking into the restaurant to meet Andi and Jim I noticed how long-legged Denise looked. I remembered how great her firm tits felt and her nipples standing up and hard enough to cut glass. Her skin as white as porcelain... This was shaping up to be the longest dinner in history. I could not wait to fuck Denise.


7 comments:

Ms. Inconspicuous said...

What do you *do* to women, Wil? What, indeed?

Distracted said...

"Come here, I've got a present." Love that one. I've even used it myself.

Anonymous said...

Wil,

Long time lurker, first time commentator.

Just wanted to let you know that of all the blogs I regularly read, yours is my favorite. Your stories are fun, the writing is crisp and the characters have terrific depth.

Keep up the good work!

-Joe

Wil said...

Ms I- Oh, I dunno.

Distracted- I really should have seen it coming.

Joe- Thanks you very much. I need all the positive comments I can get. Glad you like my stuff.

Kyra said...

I have a feeling I could learn a few things from Denise :)

Eva said...

"you are much bigger than I remember"... I can only wish I get to say that someday, and mean it!.

Mr. Dart said...
This comment has been removed by the author.