During dinner, a gorgeous acquaintance stopped by my table to say hello and ask about my evening plans. We'll call him SM, a tall, thin, lithe Russian with tousled blond hair and a perpetually mysterious air about him. He says that he's planning to have a small get together at his place and that I should call him later. I assumed this was a casual invitation, but I took it into consideration. I had already planned to attend a different friend's party.
I return home and take a nap, tired from the long work week. I am awakened by a phone call from SM. He wanted to see if I was "still interested" in coming by his place, and that he would call me back when he had more definite plans. Not really sure what was happening, I fell back asleep. 45 minutes later, he says that he plans on meeting a few of our mutual friends at a bar close to my place. I finally get up to shower and since it seems he's particularly interested in seeing me, I make myself up a little nicer than usual.
As I'm getting ready, he calls again. Persistence! I let the call go, finish getting ready and call him back just to make sure he's still at the bar. I show up and he's engrossed in a conversation with a gentleman that could be confused for being Amish. Since I'm starting the evening late, I order a strong drink and make small talk with some other friends at the bar, one of which being C, but he's with his girlfriend which is always interesting. C makes a point to tell me that I look awesome when his woman is inside the bar, which was nice. Eventually SM cuts off his conversation because he "feels rude" since he invited me to the bar but hadn't said much to me. I didn't feel slighted that he wasn't focused on me, but thought that comment was intriguing.
We're sitting on the porch, and he makes an offhanded comment about how he was finally smelling a cologne he enjoyed. It didn't occur to me that this was a compliment, so as I mumble something about having just taken a shower I notice that all the other people in the vicinity are men so he had to have been talking about me. I've had fantasies about this guy for months, but never dreamed that he viewed me as anything but a drinking buddy. As I finish my drink, I ask if he wants to do a shot, so we head to the bar.
After a shot of Jameson and another Long Island, he asks if I'm still wanting to hang out as his place. I'm wide awake after my nap and curious as to where this is going so I leave with him. He said that he hopes his neighbors are having a party so that we could crash it. Alas, they are not, so we make small talk with his roommates (one of which is also a friend of mine). I make a drink and he grabs a large bottle of wine, and the two of us head to the basement to listen to his stereo. This is his favorite pastime, being drunk and listening to music. I've been here a few times before, but this time seems different, electric. I don't expect anything, just lean back in his recliner and absorb the sounds surrounding us. He and I have similar tastes in music, but he always seems to dig up something I've never heard before. I take mental notes to download a few things he plays.
A handful of songs pass us by, and he heads to the side porch for a cigarette. I grab my one hitter and join him, hoping it would help me relax, and after a few hits, it does. I muse on how much my day has improved since it started. "Work was terrible, but after that I get laid, stoned, eat a fantastic meal, take a nap, and then spend the evening in good company." I regretted it as soon as I said it...what girl wants to sound slutty? But it think it may have been the key to what happened next.
I turned around, leaned on the railing and smiled. He takes a few more drags of his Parliament, and couple more sips of malbec. He sets down his glass, and I notice his face change. He is now intoxicated enough to take a chance, a look that says "Aw, fuck it" that I barely notice before his lips are smashed into mine. I take a second before I begin to return the kiss, as I'm a bit floored by the turn of events. This goes on for a few moments, and then he pulls back as if nothing happened, returning his focus to his cigarette that's almost finished. He flicks it into the yard, picks up his glass and puts his arm around me. It feels natural to put my arms around him, and I notice just how thin he truly is. I look up, our lips meet again, and next thing I know I'm pinned against the house, being devoured. I take it all in, the smoothness of his exposed shoulders, the forceful way his tongue entered my mouth, his hands in my hair. In between kisses, I manage to say, "Thank...you...I wasn't...going to...do this...first." He looks at me and smiles.
I go back down the stairs, mouthing a silent "Fuck yes!" and sit back on the recliner. He pulls the lever that releases the footrest and in one smooth motion is laying next to me on the recliner. Next thing I know his tongue is nearly down my throat and his hand is working it's way down my pants. Suddenly, we fall forward...the way were are positioned has tipped the chair. He pushes it back but it happens again.
"I feel we have outgrown this venue."
He motions toward his bedroom, so I start in that direction. I turn around to kiss him again and he pushes me, hard enough to let me know he means business but not hard enough to hurt. I fall to the mattress.
"Tell me how you really feel."
He's on top of me then, his hands everywhere, consuming my body, my mind, everything. My nails down his back, clawing at his olive green tank and throwing it across the room. He goes for my shirt and I help him, removing my bra in the same motion. He begins to undo my fly as I marvel at his smooth, tanned torso. I remove my pants and toss them at the foot of the bed. He flips me onto my back and buries his hand under my black boycut panties.
I have one rule in the bedroom, everyone must be wearing a similar amount of clothing. There is no way he's going to get away with stripping me to my underwear and still have his jeans on. I maneuver myself on top on him and kiss down his neck and chest.
"May I?" I joke as I go for his belt. I get the button undone find a lack of underwear and a tuft of curly blond hair. "Of course you don't wear underwear." I am treated to a gorgeous half-hard uncut cock. Without a thought I lean down and take him in my mouth immediately. I look up at him to find his eyes closed and a sly smile. This doesn't last long.
"Turn around so we can 69." Yes sir!
With one foot on his pillow and one in the air, he buries his face into me as I grabbed his gorgeous ass and all but swallowed his cock. My mind was reeling...I never thought I'd get more than a hug from this gentleman, let alone be in this particular position...upside down. After a bit it becomes apparent that he's too intoxicated to achieve a proper erection but it wasn't going to stop me from trying. He eventually tells me to give it a rest for a bit, and I turn back around on the bed. He's on top of me again in an instant, his mouth attached firmly to my left nipple, furiously rubbing my clit. I'm nearing the edge, fighting with the decision to scream like I want to and possibly alert his roommates to the passion playing out just below them, believing that the Andrew Bird playing would be loud enough to mask my intense pleasure, or to swallow my desires to show him just how much I am enjoying myself. I choose something in between...I grab a pillow and scream my heart out into it, my other hand in his hair.
As I catch my breath, I wrap my arms around him. I can't get enough of running my hands over his perfectly smooth skin, taking in his clean scent. He lays back on the bed, and I kiss him, eager to taste myself on his lips. It all just felt so unbelievably natural. He gets up and puts on a robe and is about to go out for another cigarette but wants me to come with him. I try to wrap myself in his comforter but it's too big to manage, so he removes his robe and puts it over my shoulders, and pulls a decorative apron off the wall (did I mention he's a chef?) and puts it one. It appears to be a painting that was made into a fabric, with flowers and a girl on the front. I giggle as he ties it around his waist, his perfect ass not covered one bit that I admire as I follow him up the stairs. He lights a cigarette and turns it in my direction to take in my mouth. I normally don't smoke but like everything else that evening, it seemed like a good idea. He then lights a second one for himself.
The porch light was off this time, so I was able to admire him under the distant glow of a streetlight and smile as I looked up at the stars. I take a drag from my cigarette, stifling a cough as I remember I should inhale this kind of smoke. This is why life is worth living.
We go back inside and he changes the music, and we end up on the recliner again. He insists on keeping my robe open. I tell him that he must like my tits, and I muse that they are my best feature. He says that my best feature is that I want sex and that I'm not afraid of it. Well, he's got that right. He pours more wine for himself, intent on finishing the bottle.
It's not long before we're back in bed and he's diving into my cunt. Over the years, I've known some guys that have an affinity for eating pussy, but this guy is insatiable. This time he adds his fingers, probing and massaging, licking and sucking, until I'm practically worn out. We turn to cuddling and small talk.
"I don't want a girlfriend...of any kind." He mumbled that the first time, and I made him repeat it to make sure we were on the same page.
I sat up and looked in his eyes. "As fabulous as you are, I don't want to date you either." More making out ensued.
He also made me promise about 7 times that no one could know about this, especially one of our mutual friends that happens to be one of his coworkers. I told him that I don't mind being his dirty little secret. I've kept my rendezvous with C hush-hush, so why should this be any different. I told him that I actually prefer it that way, because no one would believe me if I told them anyway. He laughed, shook his head, and attacked me yet again.
"You don't kiss me with your lips, you kiss me with your whole body. I love that." And he does. As great as sex has been with CW, it lacks a certain passion, an emotional element that I didn't realize I was missing until I found it again.
I think we finally passed out around 7am - he utterly wore me out.
I didn't want to overstay my welcome (that horrible oh-my-god-what-if-he-wakes-up-and-regrets-everything feeling came over me) so I got up and got dressed around noon. I made a point to wake him up to kiss him goodbye.
"It's noon, I'm gonna go. I'm going out the side door. If anyone asks, I passed out on your recliner. I hope to see you again."
"Me too." Simple words, followed by his disarming smile left me speechless.
That was not a walk of shame, that was a walk of glory.
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