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She wants his cock, would you?

We met by chance. He had been a friend of a friend. I sent him a completely innocent message and he responded. I don't even know how it happened, but I was soon writing back and forth with him, anxiously awaiting each new email's arrival, divulging intimate details about myself, revealing my innermost doubts and thoughts and feelings. Things were moving quickly, we talked on the phone and were soon making arrangements to meet for lunch, maybe more. I wanted to, but I was afraid, nervous, anxious. My shortcomings and low self-esteem were shining through. After all, I was single with a decent mind, but I was completely unhappy with my overweight and out-of-shape body. I knew no man would ever want me and was afraid to lose this new friend upon meeting face-to-face. He probably thought I was 10 pounds heavier than I wanted to be. He would surely never want a rotund dolt like me, especially knowing he had bedded beauties and I was merely a beast.

But, I mustered my courage and shot the devil on my shoulder that kept this negative dialogue going. I checked my make-up in the mirror one last time, fluffed my hair, turned out the light, and headed out the door. My hands were trembling and my knees were weak, so I had to take the elevator downstairs. I knew he would be on the other side of the glass doors, out in the lobby, so there was no escape.

As I reached the first floor and the doors opened, I peeked around the corner and spied him sitting in a chair not fifty feet away. He looked so calm and collected, I was a bundle of nerves. I ran my hand downward, smoothing my blouse, then clutched the strap to my purse until my knuckles turned white. It took pained effort to make my feet move; if I had been in heels, I surely would have fallen on my face. His head whipped as he did a double-take, then he was on his feet and closing the distance between us, smiling warmly. My little devil was back and had me scanning his face for even the smallest trace of disappointment behind those sparkling hazel eyes. God - he was a sight! My heart and my stomach were fluttering like an adolescent. I took in his attire, comparing his khakis and button-down to my cotton shirt and jeans. Not too bad, I told myself. He seemed nervous, stumbled over his greeting much as I did, which actually comforted me in a strange way. Then, we walked side-by-side out into the sunny September day.

The initial conversation was sparse - he led most of the discussion, I answered here and there when I could find my voice. We dined al fresco at one of the nearby spots, taking advantage of the warm day. I picked at my salad, he dove into his. My hand shook as I took a sip from my water glass, his did not. He seemed so confident, so self-assured, I was jealous. There was small talk - I eased into the conversation when we got to my work, as it is something I am proud of, so I can talk easily about it. Then he told me more about himself. When we got to some of his questions and some veiled innuendos, I was smiling and blushing and I felt a tingling warmth rising up through my chest. Perhaps he was interested after all?

Lunch ended, a bit too soon in my book. He asked me to walk him back to his car, offering me a ride back to the office in order to steal a few more minutes together. I gladly accepted, though my knees were once again growing weak. The stroll was leisurely. I don't know when it happened, but he took my hand in his and kissed the back of it. I thought I would melt into a puddle on the sidewalk. He just smiled his so-called "evil grin". A true gentleman, he opened my door and I climbed into the front seat. In a second, he was beside me and had the engine running. The car was warm from the sun, but the burning sensation I was feeling course through me was surely desire. I glanced nervously his direction. He hooked his thumb under my chin and brought his mouth down to mine in the softest, gentlest kiss of my life. I closed my eyes and I could see fireworks. My heart was pounding in my chest, yet time stood still, the moment was so intense. He started to withdraw, but I leaned in to him, keeping my lips firmly against his. This was all the encouragement he needed.

His lips danced over mine, caressing, massaging, urging them to part that his tongue might gain entrance. I felt the velvet wetness of his tongue as it entered and explored my mouth, gliding over my tongue, pulling me to him. He took my breath away - I was panting, a small bead of sweat formed on my brow, I felt as if my whole body was turning to gelatin. All at once, his hands were caressing my cheek, then cradling my neck, holding me with the grace of a lover. His breathing was growing ragged, the kiss was growing deeper, hungrier, hotter. As if reading my thoughts, his hand left my body instinctively and flicked the switch to the air conditioning to high. The icy blast was a welcome contrast to his heat searing through me with each touch. I thought I would spontaneously combust with each delicate stroke of his fingertips as they moved across my shoulder and then down the front of my blouse, his palms pressing lightly against the fullness of my breast, circling, drawing my nipples out. When he felt my rosy nubs pointing out against him, he groaned low in his throat, sucking in a warm breath between us.

We shifted so that he was leaning in front of me and his hand snaked beneath the hem of my top, skidded up my stomach and paused atop my satin clad breast. He moaned, I moaned as he gently squeezed, then I shuddered. I couldn't believe I was here, in this moment, making out with this man I barely knew, but it felt incredible, powerful, nearly overwhelming. His tongue made love to my mouth, stroking in and out, entwining with mine. His lips were soft and sweet but demanding and dangerous. My head was spinning, my body was on fire. His fingers pinched and plucked at my nipple through my bra, forcing it to a near painful peak. I arched to meet his hand, pressing into him, letting him know I was ready for more. He traced painfully slow along the crest of my cleavage, causing my breath to catch in my chest, as I awaited the feel of his flesh against mine. The slightest pressure was applied and a finger dipped inside and fluttered against my nipple. His unending kiss stifled the curse before it could escape my lips. Again, his finger sought out my rosy bud, before turning his hand and cupping my breast, pushing aside my armor, exposing my hot skin to the cold air of the car, sending chills through me. Then he broke the kiss and I felt this painful sense of loss, until his head dipped and caught my nipple between his teeth, gently biting down before suckling my breast.

I was losing all control, did not even know what my hands had been doing, as I was functioning solely on instinct. One glance down and I knew his tousled hair must be my doing. But why should he have all the fun [or was it me that was having all the fun?]? My fingers ran through his hair, down his shoulders, across his back, exploring him, learning the strength, the firmness, the contour of his muscles. My fingertips tingled, my nerve-endings were super-sensitive as they skidded along the fabric of his shirt. He was pressed so close, I could smell him, fresh, clean, intoxicating. I pried a hand between us and worked my way down his chest, feeling his hardened nipples against my palms, as he had done with mine only moments ago. He gasped, releasing my nipple from his sultry lips, pushing into my hand. I rubbed over him, teasng his nipples with only glancing touches. With that, he straightened in his seat, undid two buttons, and guided my hand inside his shirt. the feel of his hot, hard, masculine skin against my palm was titillating. I could feel the moisture escaping between my thighs, my clit throbbing and screaming for his attention. He groaned appreciatively, then cried out when I rolled his nipple between my fingers, forcing it to erection.

I straightened away from him, one hand firmly on his shoulder, pushing him back into his seat. Then I crawled up to lean over him as he had done me just moments before. I slithered my tongue between the buttons of his shirt, over the taut skin of his chest, my hands prying his shirt open to give me access to his nipples. Once they were exposed, I took turns licking and sucking and nibbling them. As I paid them homage, my free hand slid down to his lap and found his hardness straining against his fly. His body jerked as I increased the pressure, sliding along his length. As I caressed him through his khakis, as small wet spot formed where his head was struggling to escape.

As I reached for his zipper, he took hold of my hand and kept it still and called my name. I pulled back and looked at his face, a mask of lust and uncertainty, a mirror image of my own for certain. He went on to explain that he wanted me but not like this, not for the first time, not when we should savor the moments when we were to first explore and pleasure each other's bodies. We both muttered muffled curses, we were both panting, not ready to end this interlude.

I took his hand in mine, extended his index finger and brought it to my lips. My tongue reached out and encircled the digit, drawing it into my mouth and I began to suck it like a little penis, in and out, bobbing my head seductively. He threw back his head for a moment and called to the heavens. Then he put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb.

I curled into a kneeling position on the seat beside him, wanting to get close to him, to feel him, to further his torment. As he drove, his breathing was ragged but he remained unbelievably focused on the road ahead. I took his finger completely into my mouth and sucked, then traced a path up his palm with my tongue. Taking his hand in mine, I ran my fingertips over his skin, now focusing my oral ministrations on his cheek, moving slowly to then trace the shell of his ear with my tongue before taking the lobe between my lips and gently nibbling and sucking on it. My motions were deliberately slow, caressing, delicate. My lips trailed to the side of his neck where I kissed and sucked lightly. Meanwhile, he took back his hand to grip the steering wheel, making a vain attempt at maintaining control leaving my hands now free to roam. As I nuzzled his neck, I slipped a hand down to his lap and resumed stroking his cock through his slacks. He shifted his hips to force his erection into my hand. He felt hot and hard as steel. We both gasped as I applied a tighter grip, my fingers clenching around his shaft and stroking up and down his length. The wet spot was more obvious now, his cock leaking his precum. How I wanted to taste that sweetness, how I wanted to bring forth even more! I had been unaware of anything outside the car, was completely focused on him, barely noticed when he pulled the car to a stop and put it in park.

Against his better, more chivalrous judgment, he was giving in to temptation and allowing me to have my way with him right there in the car. One glance told me that he had pulled into my garage in hopes of finding a little privacy. He eased the seats back for comfort. Then his hand joined mine at his fly as I tried desperately to get at his raging erection. The sound of his zipper seemed to echo through the small space, forcing a smile to my lips as I continued my assault on his neck and ear. He took my hand and guided it inside, flattening my palm to his pulsing, turgid phallus. I felt my pussy contract in response to this sinful contact, and my whole body shuddered. His grip on my hand relaxed, leaving me free to explore. I traced the length of his shaft with my palm, then my fingertips, before sliding down to cup and massage his balls. He groaned and sighed, his grip on his self-control slipping just a notch as he forced his hips up to meet my caresses. He turned his head and we locked in a heated kiss, his mouth now hungrier, his need more urgent.

His mouth left a damp path as he moved from my lips to my neck to my shoulder then my cleavage. My chest was heaving, my breathing was labored, my whole body was tingling at his touch. My fingers slipped up and encircled his cock, taking in his girth and rigidity for the first time. As he nibbled and sucked the soft flesh atop my neckline, I extended my thumb to sample some of his precum, spreading it over and around his head, making him nice and slick in my grasp. Ever so slowly, I slid my hand from base to tip and back again. He felt so good in my hand, so good against my skin, but this teasing was growing torturous; I wanted more.

I pumped his shaft in my fist a few more times and barely noticed his fingers working the buttons at the front of my shirt, exposing the tops of my breasts above my bra. His mouth assaulted the newfound flesh, telegraphing his need. He leaned forward then turned over me, pressing me back into my seat, causing me to lose my grip on his cock. He took hold of my hand and placed it inside his shirt, rubbing my palm over his distended nipple. My hand, still damp with his nectar, slid easily over his chest and found the hard nub of flesh that sent chills through him. My fingers tensed and pulled on his nipple, rolling it between my finger and thumb, drawing it out to a peak. His body shook but his mouth never lost contact with my chest. His hands worked fervently over the fabric of my shirt, making their way inside to play over my satiny bra. The thin shield heightened the anticipation, the longing for skin-to-skin contact. He grazed back and forth with his palms, forcing my nipples to stiffen and poke at him lewdly. I threw back my head and bit my lip just when he bit down on my nipple through my bra. I squirmed in my seat, my hips undulating as my moisture escaped between my thighs. I clamped them shut, enjoying the friction and pressure on my throbbing clit.

I ran my thumb back and forth over his nipple but was finding it increasingly hard to focus, as he continued his assault on my nipple. His hand snaked down between my thighs, forcing me to relax and part them. I was sure he could feel my wetness through the denim as he pressed into the vee of my legs. His hand was firm, rubbing up and down the length of my slit, increasing my arousal even more. He squeezed rhythmically as I pumped my hips to meet his hand, desperate to feel the pressure on my aching clit. His mouth returned to mine, kissing me deeply, his tongue twirling with mine. My mind was foggy from the stimulation ? I couldn?t hold a thought, couldn?t decide if the kiss or the stroking was the more intense sensation ? I was losing complete control having been overcome with pure animal lust.

His hand left me for a moment, a feeling of loss or disappointment fleeting through me. Then he laid my seat back and arched over me, never breaking the kiss. In this new position beneath him, I felt small, felt all will-power, all self-control evaporate. Here I was, reclining beneath his solid frame, as his mouth and hands played my body like an instrument. I was on fire, every nerve tingling and screaming for his touch, my skin damp from the exertion. His hand slid beneath my top to squeeze my breast again, then rode down my stomach and eased inside the waistband of my jeans. His fingers toyed with the elastic of my panties, the thin lace the last barrier to our consummation. I held my breath, waiting for what seemed like hours, eager to feel his fingers on my most feminine flesh. His fingers snaked through the fine hair covering my mound and eased lower, pausing just above my clit. Chills ran through me as I tried to hold still, wanting him to go that one last inch and touch my throbbing pussy. In one deft movement, his fingers slid into my slit and found my aching center. He rubbed over it, then traced slow circles around it with just a slight amount of pressure. His mouth left mine agape as he turned to look down my body. I was panting and whimpering, so close to orgasm with just the slightest touch of his hand. He eased his hand in further, his fingers now slick with my juices were parting my womanly folds, opening me up to him before he slipped a finger inside me. I gasped at the intrusion and clenched my pussy around his digit, wishing it were his cock. He slowly withdrew, then drove back in, repeating the procedure several times before inserting yet another finger into my tight canal. In this position, his palm would bump against my clit with each thrust, taking me closer and closer to climax. I wanted to scream.

And then it hit me. I threw back my head, my eyes rolling back, my body shaking as my orgasm overtook me. My body convulsed, my pussy clamping down on his hand. I cried out then bit my lip to stop the flow. My whole body buzzed with the force of my climax, my head was reeling. He slowed his thrusts, easing me back down to Earth. But I was so hyper-sensitive that even his light touch made me jerk and twitch. I could not believe the power of his touch, how readily he had made me cum.

He withdrew his hand slowly and I could see it glistening with my juices. He kissed me affectionately, giving me a moment to recover, then rolled back into his seat, stretched back, and took his cock in his hand. I looked down to see him coating his shaft in my wetness, his cock still raging hard and purple from my earlier teasing. He watched my reaction as I watched him stroke his cock. The head was oozing precum, adding lube to his already wet cock. I licked my lips and, with no further encouragement, crawled up to lean over him, my lips just inches from his dick, which he held upright for me. I extended my tongue and sampled his nectar, sticky and salty yet sweet. He continued to pump up and down his length as I focused my attention on his shimmering crown, swirling my tongue around the bulbous knob, flicking the tiny slit at its crest. I closed my lips around him and sucked gently, my tongue massaging all over him. Then, as he released his grip on his cock, I relaxed and eased his full length down my throat. He shuddered and moaned as I worked his cock in and out of my mouth, pumping up and down, letting him slide between my lips with ease, all the way in, all the way out, painfully slow, my tongue twirling all around his shaft as I went. Then, I picked up the pace and began fucking him in earnest with my mouth, plunging him deep and hard into my throat and back out, over and over again, increasing the suction and speed with each motion. Then I slowed down, savoring all of him, feeling each bulging vein, each velvety, hard inch with my hot, wet mouth. In and out, artfully slow and deliberate. As his frustration level rose, I resumed my quickened pace and rode him with my lips, squeezing as if trying to milk his balls of his frothy cum. His breathing was growing ragged, I knew he was getting close. I slipped one hand down to cup his balls, feeling them tighten in my grasp. The other hand glided up to his chest to pluck at his nipple. He gasped and called my name, so I squeezed tighter around the dick in my mouth and pumped harder still. His balls drew tight in my palm and his body tensed, his cock pulsed against my tongue. Then spurts of hot cum splashed from his head and onto my tongue and down my throat. His body shook and he cried out as the last few drops of cum oozed from his cock. When I was satisfied his climax was complete, I turned and kissed him, forcing my tongue into his mouth, that he might taste his own release and mine.