June 22, 2007 // Posted by: la coquette // Category:
life,
men
It was the waning week between Christmas Day and New Years. The week in which the lucky are on vacation; the unlucky must work. I was somewhere in the middle. I made my own schedule, picking and choosing the hours I wished to work. He was not so fortunate, on a weekly schedule. Nevertheless, we made time for each other.
We had met once before; we had drinks in a public bar in the middle between our two homes. He drank bud lights whilst I swilled strawberry margaritas. We flirted; we laughed. I spent a lot of time imagining his gorgeous lips, full and sexy on mine. He spent his time, he told me later, staring at my tits, thinking on their awesomeness. We had a little fun that afternoon, our inhibitions removed by the alcohol. Although, that’s a story for another day.
Back to the waning week, now. It was night. We agreed to meet at 9:30 at the fairgrounds, again half-way between our homes. The night was dark, damp and cool. I arrived slightly early. As I waited, I rummaged through my purse only to realize that my cell phone sat at home, on my bed. I grew worried as time passed as he had not yet arrived.
I fretted until he arrived. Tall, dark-haired, handsome and tattooed, I enjoyed our previous adventure. He stepped out into the cool night air. He helped me from my car, pulled me into his arms and kissed me. Hot, deep and hard, this kiss exuded need. His tongue dove into my mouth and I tasted him, the faint taste of the marlboros he smokes.
His hands roamed over the zip-up fleece that I wore. Beneath it, the only thing that stood between us was the delicate lace of my lingerie. His hands large on my breasts kneeded them as we continued to kiss, hard and deep. My fingers moved over his chest and then curled around his broad shoulders. The damp night turned wet, a cold drizzle started to fall. We gasped; he pulled my arms from around his necked and spun me around.
My bottom rested against his groin, his hands around me, gripping, massaging and stroking my breasts. His mouth made a meal of my neck. Teeth nibble and chewed at the tender skin. The only sounds echoing around us, our moans. I ground back against him and he rewarded me with a tighter grip and strangled sound of pleasure. We moved together two parts making a whole, synchronous machine.
His hand slipped upwards, between my breasts until I felt it on my neck. His touch, light yet strong as his fingers strummed over the sensitive skin of my neck, his mouth still tasting my neck. My hands reached behind me, grasping to feel him, to feel his cock. He sensed my eagerness to touch and tease him. I felt him pulsing beneath the denim. He bent slightly forward, whispered into my ear, “Get in the Jeep.”
We clambored into Jeep and fell over each other. Hands roamed, tongues fought, sounds ricocheted. Cramped and close described our quarters. My legs rested over his thigh. His hands snuck under the back of my top, cool against my bare skin. We played, teased and made-out like teenagers until we both gasped for more…
Technorati Tags: summer, jeep, lips, rain, cold, the holidays
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