shadysweet did a great job on a first pass edit, with a few sentences in the draft so far from coherent, all they could offer was, “Awkward. Rework.” Haha! Love it — thanks, ss! But my Kynhalis sees EVERYTHING — lots of obscure and difficult to find and fix stuff just falls before their mighty editing fu. Kiss kiss, K!
—–
For the last hour, I had been debating whether to text her. There were so many reasons not to, but only a handful of good ones. Okay, only one good one — that I was horny as fuck. I unlocked my phone, copied her number from my friend’s text, switched apps, and typed out a few texts to her:
ME: Hey, Sophie. Jesse gave me your number. He seemed to think we might be wired the same way and able to help each other out.
ME: You think you can help me out?
I locked my phone and tossed it on the desk. From what I had been told, I guessed that I wouldn’t hear back from her until late tonight, giving me at least six hours to second guess my thinking and reflect on how this situation came to present itself in the first place.
—–
THE PREVIOUS DAY…
My phone buzzed on the desk in front of me. My best friend’s name showed on the screen. I picked up and answered before the second ring.
“Calling me in the middle of the after-damned-noon? What’s the emergency?”
“Dude, whenever I need advice, I have to call the master.” He paused, and when I didn’t bite, he continued excitedly with, “So I’m calling the master!”
Having absolutely no idea what he was talking about, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “OK, man, the master is IN! Now, what the hell are you going on about?”
“Okay, so I went out running before lunch. I was just running along Midway, zoned out with my earbuds when this car passes by and screeches to a halt thirty feet in front of me. This masked chick sticks her head out of the window and starts trying to talk to me. So, I run over to the window and lean in and talk to her because I think she’s asking for directions or something.
“But she says, ‘I think you’re fine as hell, and I just want to suck you off right here and now!’ Then she grabs my dick and starts to rub it through my shorts!”
I rolled my eyes and tried my best to suppress the groan threatening to escape my throat. He has always been oblivious of the effect he has on women. He runs a lot and is in excellent shape, but there has just always been something about him I can’t explain that makes women do silly stuff like this for him. I suppressed these thoughts as I could tell he was having a crisis of some sort that we needed to work through. If nothing else, this promised to be entertaining.
Sensing it was my turn to speak, I teed him up for more with, “Yup, this feels like the part where I ask, ‘Then what happened?’ Did you let her suck you off?” I left off the “…like I would have.”
“Hell no, man, I was too surprised. I mean, I was tempted, but the backseat was full of boxes and who can get comfortable in the front seat with all those gear levers and shit in the way? She just kept telling me I was hot, that she was a dirty fucking slut, and that she just wanted to bring me off right there with her mouth.
“But I did get her number!”
Ahh, money!
Now, I guffawed into the phone. “That’s fucking awesome, dude. But I’m lost as to what ‘The Master’ can do for you here! I’ve never had a girl drive up and offer to blow me, so this isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse. Was she hot?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t really tell because she had a mask on. And it was so sudden that a lot of it is kind of a blur. She was probably mid-forties with a pretty nice-looking body. She grabbed my hands, put them right on her tits, and said, ‘Here, feel!’ and they were pretty damned nice, but I’m a tit guy — all tits feel nice to me. You’re supposed to tell me with to do with all this?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, I can’t tell you what you should do. I can only tell you what I would do and why. I would text her to pick me up tomorrow in the same spot…and I would fuck her face until I came right down her throat and filled up her stomach.” Saying it aloud made my pulse quicken. “If nothing else, this is one of those sexual experiences that never really happen to anyone, so when it happens to you, you look for reasons to say ‘Yes,’ not reasons to say ‘No.'”
“Fuck! I don’t know, man. I’m really not that into blowjobs. I mean, they’re a good warmup, but not as the main event.”
I interrupted, not wanting to give him an opportunity to get going, “Look, if I can suggest anything, it would be to play with her on text and phone and think about it.” And like an idiot, I couldn’t help but try to turn this to my advantage, so I added, “If nothing else, see if she has a friend who wants to play doubles.”
—–
About an hour later, he sent a screenshot of a text exchange with a woman he listed as “Sophie.” It had a picture of an incredibly built woman — one with a figure that would be described as both fit and voluptuous –on all fours taken from behind so her face wasn’t visible, obscured by a mane of curly red hair. The next text under the picture was from her, saying, “This is how us married women really get their needs met.”
HIM: SHIT!
ME: Worried? Or not attracted?
ME: Everything there looks pretty impressive to me.
ME: What’s wrong with an NSA or FWB situation? She seems to know what she’s doing. You’ll definitely learn something from it, no doubt in my mind.
HIM: Just concerned about yet another married woman.
HIM: We also talked on the phone a few minutes ago. She is a dirty talker. Definitely your type.
HIM: She made herself cum and then asked if we could meet up early tomorrow morning in the same place.
ME: Yeah, start that day out right!
HIM: Dude, you’re going to end up fucking this woman.
ME: Sure, I’ll fuck her. But I’ll fuck anything at this point. Lol.
ME: You’re going to make that woman weep. She’ll be hurting for more of that dick.
ME: So excited for you! What an awesome experience!
—–
He called early the next morning, opening with, “She’s picking me up me up at 8:45. She just told me that she’s already sucked a dick off for breakfast and needs more. Holy shit!”
My mind shifted to how to make sure this didn’t go bad. “Send me a pin where you’re going to be. If I haven’t heard from you by 9:30, I’m going to send the dogs looking for you.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” he replied. “She sent pics of her tits and pussy, and they look really nice, but she said she didn’t want me getting handsy this time. She just wants to drain me.”
—–
Soon after, though, his plans went to shit. At 8:30, he sent me texts saying that he just got an invite for a mandatory 9:00 am work meeting and that he just sent Sophie a note that he wouldn’t be able to make it. Right after 10:00, he called and told me that she was pissed at being stood up: “I told her that my boss called a meeting I couldn’t have gotten out of. She said, ‘Well, do I need to suck your boss off so you can get out of these things and let me blow you?’ I had to make her repeat that because I was sure I heard it wrong.”
He laughed, continuing, “Fuck, she’s nasty. I told her that I didn’t know if my boss would be into it, but I did have a friend that would be. She asked a few questions about you and got horny from the answers. She’s down to suck and fuck and is waiting for you to text her. She knows me as ‘Jesse,’ so be sure to use that name with her.”
After we hung up with each other, I got a single text with a single phone number in it. For the next six hours, I tried to stay focused on work but failed miserably. All I could think about was a dirty talking fuck slut with whom I could empty my balls using her whore throat. I kept my cool until 4:00 pm and then I sent her those two texts asking if she could “help me out.” It wasn’t until 11:00 that night that I got a reply from her:
HER: I can definitely help!
I responded immediately.
ME: Let me know if you’re up for a play date tomorrow morning.
My phone rang. As soon as I picked up, she said, “Tell me I’m a dirty whore.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, I growled out, “You’re a dirty whore.” Immediately, I could feel that this statement had the force leaving my mouth and hitting her ear like a throbbing hard cock pushed forcefully into a wet and willing mouth. She moaned loudly. This was me in my element, and if she wanted to play this game, she had found an expert partner.
“You’re a filthy bitch who is going to drain the cum out of my balls with your slutty little throat tomorrow, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she moaned softly. “Yes, I am. And yes, I will.” My balls tightened, and my cock swelled in my pants at the thought of her mouth and throat submitting to my engorged member and my most animalistic urges.
After a brief discussion of the details for an early morning rendezvous, she abruptly changed the subject back with, “Tell me I’m a slut again!”
I spit out each word with such force that the intent couldn’t be missed, “You’re a filthy disgusting slut, and I’m going to use you as my cum dumpster! You know you’re a nasty fucking whore, so why make me say it?”
She moaned. I could hear a vibrator. “God, I hope you’re real,” she whispered.
“I’m real,” I said firmly. “And you’re going to feel how real in a few hours. Get some sleep and be ready for my stiff dick getting forced down your whorish throat.”
She moaned again and this time, it was a long, drawn-out one that I assumed meant I was hearing her orgasm.
“Send me a picture,” she said softly and then hung up.
I managed the best selfie I could in my night clothes and shot it off to her.
—–
It was just after midnight by this time, so I climbed into bed and turned out the light, but I was too excited about thoughts of what was soon to happen. I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to get any sleep, and I went right on having that feeling for the next five hours, continuously tossing and turning and turning and tossing. By 5:00 am, I was done trying to sleep as it was time to get up and start the drive. My cock had stayed stiff the whole time.