Monday, September 21, 2009

Thanksgiving Dance

The fall continued with Sharon and me getting together about every other weekend. When we were at my place we had great fun. When I went to her school I felt like the proverbial brown shoes in a room full of tuxedos. Unfortunately she didn’t have a car and coming to see me meant a long bus ride so just to see each other I would usually drive to her place. Once I even drove to her school after class on a Friday, drove all the way back to my place—a round trip of about seven hours—so we could fuck freely all day Saturday before driving back to her school Sunday afternoon.

Perhaps the worst weekend at her campus was homecoming when her parents visited as well. Sleeping in the sorority house with Sharon was out of the question so I drove over really early Saturday morning, went to the football game with her and her folks, and then out to eat afterwards. Her mother didn’t like anything about me. Her father was nice enough but obviously lived in total fear of his wife. Mona had told me that their country club lifestyle was paid for by Sharon’s mother’s family wealth and that her dad was totally pussy whipped. I had doubted some of that thinking Mona was indulging in hyperbole. But watching the dynamics on homecoming weekend was educational and I was sure Mona was on to something with her theory. In any event, Wil was persona non grata around Sharon’s mother. I didn’t like her much either, but I was very polite to her. I made sure to leave before they did on homecoming Saturday lest they think I was going to deflower their daughter as soon as they left town. Didn’t bother me much. I would’ve liked to hang out Saturday night with Sharon as I’m quite sure her flowers would’ve been available for picking, but I went to another big campus in the state where I had a few friends and went out drinking with them all night before weaving my way back to my apartment Sunday afternoon.

Finally Thanksgiving weekend arrived. Both of us were tied up with family on Thursday but we got together Friday morning—Sharon driving over to my parent’s house. My mom and dad liked her and were happy to have her in our little house. We actually studied together that afternoon at the local library as both of us had papers due the following week, ate dinner at my parent’s house, and just watched TV that evening. Sharon wanted us to go out with some of her old high school friends Saturday night. I would have much rather just taken her to Mona’s house and fucked but she really wanted to go out to this hot new dance club with her pals. I wasn’t much for dancing but I didn’t want to be a total pain in the ass. When Sharon told me that I couldn’t wear jeans to this place I was certain I didn’t want to go, but I dug up a pair of black dress pants, a decent shirt, and borrowed a pair of black dress shoes from my father. I actually went out on a hot date to a dance club wearing shoes I borrowed from my dad. The lengths I went to trying to please this girl.


We got to the club around 9PM Saturday and her friends were all there already: three girlfriends and their dates. It was loud in there which was probably a blessing but it meant I was the guy nobody (except Sharon) knew. I felt a bit under the microscope by her girlfriends and their dates seemed a little too comfortable in the disco for my tastes. After a drink or two our group got out on the floor dancing including Sharon and me. After an hour of dancing and more drinks I was pretty much done with the dancing part and wanted to concentrate on the drinking part. Sharon was just getting warmed up with the dancing part, however, and from that difference some unfortunate conflict grew. It took the form of me sitting and drinking while she sat and fumed. Then some guy came over to ask her to dance—our body language wasn’t exactly screaming out THESE TWO ARE A COUPLE. She looked at me. I shrugged. She got up and danced with the slug. And, for the next half hour or so she danced away. I enjoyed watching her move on the dance floor but I didn’t enjoy watching her new dance partner move in on her. I even got the impression that she wasn’t being aggressive enough at defending herself from his untoward advances. Her girlfriends saw her laughing too and would glance at me from time to time.


As Sharon and Sluggo danced on I gathered up my coat and told the girl that was her “best friend” that I was heading out as long as she promised me that Sharon would get home safely. She said she would. I walked out to my car. It was cold as a well digger’s ass outside. I put on my gloves and hoped that the door locks on my little two-seater hadn’t frozen up. No problem. I fired up the engine and turned the defroster on since the windshield was completely frozen. It was a ragtop and leaked air around the windows so even the side glass was frosted up. I sat there waiting for the defroster to take hold rather than get out and scrape—I wasn’t in a big hurry-- hell, I didn’t even know where I was going to go.

There was a tapping at the passenger door glass. I could tell through the frosted glass that it was Sharon and I leaned over and popped the lock. She threw open the door and jumped in.

“Baby! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you wanted to go. I didn’t mean to make you mad!” she said in a rush.

She turned on the seat to face me, slid her knees to the floor in front of her seat, and went straight for the zipper on my black dress pants, pulled it down, got my hardening cock out in the frigid air and wrapped her lips around it, all within about ten seconds of me unlocking the door.

She went at my dick like never before. Stroking it hard, licking the head, getting about half of me down her throat before choking slightly, then licking the shaft and sucking like a demon. I pulled her wool hat off her head to get hold of the mass of hair beween me and the steering wheel as she went at it. A group of guys passed by the car on the way to their car and pounded on the trunk lid yelling and whooping since it was pretty obvious what was up—her butt--- and what was down—her blond head bobbing in my lap.

Sometime that night, after she drained my balls down her throat and licked up every drop she could find and before we drove off into the night, it began to dawn on me that being overly nice to Sharon was not exactly the best policy. She seemed to respond to something else a bit better.

I also remembered my mother and sister telling me when I was in eighth grade that it was a good idea to learn how to dance. They both told me that girls liked guys who would dance with them at high school dances and the like. I had to admit they were right on this point. I had only danced (clumsily I’m sure) for about an hour with Sharon and for that was rewarded with the best blowjob she’d ever performed for me.