In February 2010, I had recently moved from my college town back to my hometown. I still drove out fairly often to see friends and to hang out at my usual bar. So one weekend I drove out and was hanging with a friend who said didn’t really like “my” bar, but eventually, she relented and we went. The second I walk in the door everyone at the bar yells my name and starts applauding. My friend was not amused. We hung out for a while and then she said she was tired and wanted to go home. She drove us back to her place and I hopped in my car and drove straight back to the bar. I’m not playing games here. Every time I drove out to visit, my goal was to get fucked. She was dragging me down anyway and I could have better luck without her.
I was working the guys at the bar. I knew everyone there, so I just got to joke and flirt and have a great time. While I definitely missed hanging out at the bar all the time, being in town for a weekend, or even just one night in some cases was the perfect excuse to force the guys to make a move. Because it was Valentine’s weekend, I was wearing a low-cut red t-shirt with a sweetheart neckline that perfectly accented my tits, and a short, short black skirt. I was looking good. They knew I looked good, too. I was flirting with this guy Chad who previously worked at the bar. Chad and I had flirted before, I guess in a super obvious way because everyone thought that we had hooked up already. We shared some of the same interests so we chatted about that, and he would tell me how fucking amazing I looked.
After a while, we all walked across the street to the dance club and hung out at the bar there. I kept flirting with Chad. The night went on and around 6 or 7 am, Chad asked me if I wanted to go have pancakes. We ate pancakes at a local restaurant downtown on a Sunday morning with all the good Southern church-going members of the city, me being still drunk (we had only stopped drinking maybe half an hour before) and still dressed with my tits proudly on display.
After pancakes, he took me back to his place to sober up. Ever the polite lady, I never assume anyone’s intentions. The guys at the bar are all really sweet and there have been times when I’ve gotten drunk and they’ve let me crash on their couch so I wouldn’t drive. We get to Chad’s place and I ask him where he wants me. As in, I’m totally fine just crashing where would you like me to be? He says, “right here will do just fine” and he grabbed me and kissed me. No one’s intentions were in doubt anymore. He started undressing me very slowly, one article of clothing at the time. It was absolute torture. I loved it. I loved being teased. By the time he finally slid my thong down my legs while keeping one hand teasing my nipples, my pussy was aching for his cock. Very slowly, he kissed me all down my body until he got in position to eat me out. Before he did, he prefaced it by saying how he was incredibly skilled and *when* he made me cum the first time, I would beg him to stop, but he said he was not going to stop. That sort of confidence is super sexy. I do not remember how many times he made me cum. I lost count. When he was satisfied with the number of orgasms he had given me, he came back up and slid his cock into me. I was crazy wet, and even though I had cum already his cock immediately felt amazing and made me want to cum again. I wrapped my legs around him and squeezed tightly. I came one last time. He pulled out and came on my tits. After that, we both passed out. Later that afternoon when we woke up, he drove me back to the car that I left at the bar. He wished me a happy Valentine’s Day, I gave him a kiss, and I started the long drive back home.
We had sex again a few years later.
That’s a story for another day.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8v2a5r/pancakes_and_pussyeating_fm