Fuck me, I’ve hit the jackpot.
She stood at the open door in the gentle light. I took her in as the call guiding me there ended. A jolt of electricity surged through my whole body. She was slim, with gentle curves and a small waist. High heels gave her the appearance of being even taller than my estimated five eight or so. Long, dark and very straight hair complemented her figure. A red figure hugging body tube with black stockings completed the outfit. She looked just like a girl working the streets. As we chatted online just before I left my new bachelor-pad, I had described that look as a personal favourite. She had dressed up just for me. Stepping from the car into the still night I noticed that the long row of terraced houses was in darkness.
She was smoking. As I crossed the uneven paving slabs passing for a garden she took a long drag, looked me directly in the eyes, smiled, threw the butt to my side and turned into the hallway. I closed the door gently behind us. In the dim light my peripheral vision noticed the contrast between the dark hair half way down her back and the pillar box red body tube. But my eyes were fixed on her butt. Yes – I had hit the jackpot. As she strutted to the living room her body tube emphasised the curve of her hips and the beautifully padded cheeks underneath. My cock stirred immediately.
With the living room door closed behind us she turned the TV volume down. For the first time I saw her front on. Just as her butt had dominated the rear view, her perky tits dominated that one. They were perfectly in proportion with her slim figure. Prominent nipples confirmed there was no bra to get in the way. Noticing the Vodka in my hand, she suggested I pop into the adjoining kitchen and pour a couple of strong ones. Becoming increasingly exhilarated as I realised I was on for screwing such a stunner, two strong Vodka Cokes were mixed. Her heavily made-up dark eyes searched deep inside me as she gulped half the glass. Mine was discarded on the coffee table en-route to paying a quick visit. I caught sight of my grinning face in the washroom mirror. The image screamed you lucky bastard.
Just how lucky was confirmed as I closed the living room door behind me. Directly in front of me, she was draped over the arm of a well-worn, large, comfy chair. The red fabric had been pulled up around her waist and downwards to set her tits free. With one hand she drained the Vodka Coke and held it out for a refill. Her cheeky suggestion to put some Vodka in that one suggested she was a girl on a mission. Both her hands went to work. One gently squeezed her fantastic tits – small, perky, with firm nipples pointing upwards as if begging to be licked and sucked and kissed. Their darkness contrasted with the surrounding milky white skin. The other was slipped inside her black G-string, rubbing long strokes up and down just-hidden lips. Her head was lowered, partially closed eyes stared up directly into mine as her tongue traced over heavily rouged lips. The bulge in my jeans had already answered her question. Fuck yes – I more than liked what I saw. She was just as slutty as we had chatted about; even hotter than I had fantasised about for the hours’ drive speeding through sleeping villages and countryside to be her friend for the night.
We hooked up on the site around midnight. I had learned not to drink as occasionally women wanted a cock right away. Normally they were a bit tipsy and just wanted a cock – any cock – to serve their needs. So it was with Jan. After our brief chat online I grabbed the Vodka and sped off into the night.
A hand pulled away from her tits to take the re-filled glass. As I handed it over, our fingers brushed against each other and another jolt rushed through my whole body. I took a quick slug of my own drink, returned it to the table, and leaned in to kiss her. She readily returned the kiss, our tongues entwined. The Vodka mixed with her smoky breath. Normally that put me right off, but then, it added to the scene. Reaching for one of my hands she guided it to her tits. Not hesitating, I slid my fingertips gently over each nipple. They were firm and demanding more attention. I cupped both tits in my hands; two warm and firm, perky handfuls as I caught sight of a hand working inside her black G-string. The harsh breathing through our kisses told me she was as excited as I was.
Pulling away, she fixed a gaze on the bulge in my jeans, discarding her glass to feel its hardness. A finger slipped through the brass fly buttons to find my shaft. Its firmness raised another smile as she confirmed a preference for guys with cocks ready for action. I let her fumble with my belt for a brief moment then undid it along with my top fly button. She managed the rest without missing a beat in her own G-string. Each button gave her a little more access to the shaft straining against the tight denim. One final pull had them out the way.
My cock was finally free to stand upright. Its tip was already swollen and engorged. The drop of clear pre-cum gave testament to how ready it was for her. It had been ready from the instant I clocked her butt stretching the red fabric in the hallway. She wrapped a hand round the shaft to send yet another jolt through me. Each time the adrenaline surged from my core to ripple through me. Each surge took my excitement to a new level. She pulled my willing cock forward, opening her mouth as I shuffled to her. Looking me directly in the eye, her tongue started at the base of my shaft and traced its way to the very tip then slowly round my end. She knew that was teasing me; that I wanted its full length enveloped between those inviting lips. Still staring into her dark eyes she smiled each time it twitched as a nail scratched my delicate sack. She was definitely enjoying my torment; perhaps also having such power over me.
Casually she looked away to her glass, took a quick mouthful and leaned forward once more. Taking half its length, I Immediately felt the cold of an ice cube being rolled around my tip. What a contrast to how hot it was. The ice cube melted away giving rise to the Vodka causing a burning sensation. I had never experienced that before. The slight pain added to my excitement. She knew exactly what she was doing. I closed my eyes and let my head roll forward as her tongue worked round and round my swollen tip, thumb and index finger stroking the length of my shaft. Still she was stroking her pussy inside her G-string.
With a series of quick, hard strokes she pulled away from my cock, stood up and we kissed another smoky kiss. In heels we were the same height. I pulled her in close and slipped a hand down to her G-string. Gently rubbing through the tiny patch of cotton I could feel her dampness. Unable to resist, I raised my damp fingers and slid one into my mouth. I could only just taste her through the strong Vodka Coke. The second damp finger slipped easily into her willing mouth as my free hand pulled our hips together. My cock twitched again as it pressed against the damp G-String cotton. I paused for a moment to enjoy her perky bosom pressing against my chest; her warmth; her aroma; her excitement as intoxicating as the Vodka surging through my veins.
Unable to resist any longer, I knelt and eased the G-string down her slim thighs, pausing to take the evenings’ first glimpse of pussy. It was already wet with small lips engorged and welcoming below a neatly clipped black landing strip. Leaning in close to kiss those secret lips I could smell her sweet musk. Guiding her to turn around gave me a close up view of her butt. It was perfect; her skin perfectly smooth and tight; her cheeks curved to join her thighs in a definite crease. After several kisses on each cheek, she pulled away to recline on the sofa. Still kneeling, I shuffled over to continue enjoying her engorged pussy. Her clit – as swollen as her lips – was easy to find. Tracing the tip of my tongue around her button I breathed her musk deep inside me. In that moment nothing else mattered. Massaging my head she guided me gently to place my tongue was just where she wanted it.
I didn’t hesitate once she suggested wanting my cock again. Standing up, I discarded my jeans and top and swung a knee over her on to the sofa, lowering my cock to her willing mouth while returning mine to her pussy. Quickly, her hips gyrated to grind herself against my face. The harder sucking on my cock revealed she was as close as I was. Her hands pressed my head to her – not that I needed any encouragement. The pressure on my cock released completely as she panted and let out a low soft moan as her orgasm took over. I kept still to breath in her orgasmic musk as the waves washed over her. The thrill of her spasming below me pushed my cock to just short of cumming. It was going to go just as soon as it got any more attention.
Making eye contact, I stood up, my cock soaked with pre-cum, and took a condom from my jeans. As I slipped it on, her legs opened for me; time to take what I was there for. I kneeled on the sofa between her legs and leaned forward to slide it inside. Willing hands guided it home easily in one push for it to grip me tightly. I could hold back for only a few moments before it hit me. My hips bucked hard against her to drive my cock deeper and deeper. We weren’t making love; we were satisfying our urges. I felt my load jettison into her, feeling each spurt shooting through me to force an involuntary groan. The urgency of it happening so quickly had an animalistic, primal air. I lay on her as I got my breath back. My heart pounded against her warm, firm body. Taking my weight on one arm I leaned down and kissed her through my contented smile. I pulled out just as it started to go limp. Her insistence that I made sure the condom flushed away properly carried an unmistakable tone of fear.
After a quick clean up, I refreshed the Vodka Cokes and we sat in each other’s arms on the sofa. As my hands explored her body we chatted about our lives. I felt myself becoming very sympathetic towards her. She had lived a hard life with only the prospect of more of the same. She realised I was well educated and spoke of her regrets about not making more of an effort at school. She was trying to get in to the local college as an education was the one thing she wanted for herself more than anything else. My encouragement was little more than lip service as my hands wandered over her firm body. Pursuing that line of conversation could easily have revealed details of my real life identity. A little voice in my head warned me not to disclose anything about myself unless I had to. There was nothing obvious but my instinct told me to be wary.
I guessed she was in her very early thirties, as per the profile I had pinged only two hours previously. She spoke about having had tough times and made a reference to being on the streets; leaving it vague if that meant she had been homeless or involved with prostitution. I didn’t pick up on that or pry for details. Her history was not important to me; if it was bad news I would rather have not known. I was only interested in the present and what I wanted there and then. I had already guessed she was a full time mother from the pile of toys behind the sofa. As we chatted – I let her do most of the talking and listened sympathetically – she came over as being a mixture of hard as nails and vulnerable.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/lf82v4/mf_jackpot