Tuesday, May 30, 2006

not letting go

I leaned against the club's wall, feeling smug.

It was one of those nights, out just relaxing with a mate as girl after girl checked me out. He had gone to the toilet or something, left me alone for a bit. I could feel the warm numbness of the third beer I had just finished, considered going for another one or just enjoying the scenery as I waited for him.

Then a girl caught my eye. Young, slender, with a slightly grown-up face and blond hair. Maybe 20, maybe 25, maybe older. Impossible to tell. She saw me looking and looked straight back. Walked slowly to me, our hands met. I held it until it was clear we weren't just shaking hands.

I asked, Shall I let you go?

No, she said.

So I didn't. She silently turned around and led me through the crowd towards the stairs at the back. Up, to an empty sofa. We were alone, but just as we sat down one of the bouncers came up and said they were closing the second floor, we'd have to go down. So we did.

Again, she led the way in silence, this time to one of the club's bathrooms. We stood outside, waiting for whoever was in there to finish. I reached up, grasped her jaw gently and pulled her face to me. Her soft lips met mine, shy, but eager. As our lips softly caressed each other, I realized for the first time that she was taller than me.

~~~

The bathroom door opened, she led me in. Shut the door, locked it, leaned in for another kiss. I slid my hands around her and she melted into my arms, her pelvis firmly against mine and her small breasts squashed between us. It felt good. I kissed her more firmly, slid my tongue a little further into her mouth. I started to get hard.

The music from the club could be clearly heard in the background, something with a heavy beat and muffled vocals. We knew we didn't have forever, locked in that bathroom. There would be a queue.

The kiss ended, she stepped back. Grinned coyly, knelt in front of me. I leaned back against the sink as she unzipped my fly and pulled everything down just enough to reveal my proud erection. The tip of my cock was already wet, glistening. She put her hand gently on my balls and tasted my pre-cum playfully with her tongue, so gently I could hardly feel it. Then she greedily took me into her mouth.

I shut my eyes and just enjoyed the warm sensations. I wasn't sure whether she just wanted to suck me off or what, but no way was I going to interrupt what she was doing to ask.

I found out soon enough. She knew exactly what she was doing and I reached the brink of orgasm far quicker than I usually do. I could feel I was about to come and so could she. And she stopped. Stood up, pulled up her skirt and turned around.

Bent over, looked back over her shoulder hungrily.

I always carry a condom or three in my pocket, I fished one out, rolled it over my sensitive cock with one hand and explored her pussy with the other. No surprises there, she was sopping wet, ready and waiting. I didn't waste any time. I entered her quickly, took a couple of short strokes and then plunged all the way into her.

Again. And again. And again.

By now people had started knocking on the door, but we didn't care.

I just pumped back and forth, riding her as hard as I could. She was still silent, but I could see by the tension in her hand against the wall and the way she bit her lip that this was exactly what she wanted. I fucked her even harder, pulled almost all the way out and then rammed as deep into her as I could, and again, pumping a load of cum into her on both strokes.

As I did I saw her shudder and her hand on the wall relaxed.

I pulled out, pulled up my pants, still wearing the condom. She turned around and smoothed her skirt back down, smiled. Gave me a kiss, took my hand again and together we left the room, ignoring the angry looks from the people in line.

She led me back to where we had met, smiled, touched a finger to my lips and walked away.

I never even got her name.

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Tuesday, May 30, 2006

experiment

I think I'll continue with this blog.

I've wanted a public, sex-themed blog for a long time now. I have quite a few stories to tell and I sincerely hope that there won't be any shortage of new adventures in the next few months.

I've been writing on a private, password protected site about these things for years, starting while I was in an open marriage and then continuing after that ended. But this sort of thing is inevitably all about the readers. Writing for friends and family limits what I can say and how I say it, especially in the small community I lived in at the time.

Writing anonymously for a wider public is a different beast entirely.

My last girlfriend kept telling me I should write porn (or erotica, take your pick). I think I'll give it a try.

If I don't get any readers I'll probably get frustrated and give up, but at worst it'll make an interesting experiment. If you like what I'm doing, please leave me a comment as encouragement.

Thanks, and welcome. Feel free to leave your knickers by the door.

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Tuesday, May 30, 2006

flashback

Jumping up and down on the dance floor, aware I was sweating profusely from the heat and exertion, I noticed her looking at me. She looked at me through her eyelashes, they way they do when they want to be taken home, fucked.

She'd told me no, last time I made a civilized move. Asked her out for a coffee. No. The time before, she had also told me no, so I asked her if I should bother trying again. No.

So I just kept on dancing and sweating, jumping and waving those stupid glow-sticks in the air. The crowd surged back and forth on the too-small dance floor, people smiled drunkenly, sang along, fought for balance, fought their way to the bar. A mob of almost-thirties in throbbing 90s rave nostalgia.

The time I wasn't that civilized and just took her home, that's when she'd said yes. Shouted it in fact, gasped it. But the sound I'll always remember is the cooing happy sound she made as I slipped my boxers off and she saw what I had in store for her. She liked that and I liked that sound.

I think of it when I see her, thought of it on that dance floor.

I think we went at it at least four times that night. I couldn't get enough of her, she liked everything I had to offer. We were both sore by the end, drenched in sweat, exhausted, but in that oh-so-nice way. We fell asleep in a tangle of limbs and sheets and pillows. I awoke before her and enjoyed the curve and feel of her breasts, one of the few times I've actually liked big ones like that. They were massive, real, perfect. They'd moved very nicely when I'd entered her. I quietly slipped out and bought breakfast. That's how to treat a lady the morning after a fuckathon, isn't it? Breakfast in bed?

I was probably trying too hard.

As I left the sweaty bar and the pumping music, I considered walking around the place a bit to see if she still had that look on her face. But I have my dignity. She told me no. If she wanted more she could come and get it, I know she has my number. There were other bars waiting, other girls. Besides, the spark was gone.

That third no killed it.

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