ERIK.
It was cool for the middle of the month. Typically, in July, the weather would
be in excess of 100 degrees. It was 80 degrees and 10:30 a.m., but the forecast
called for a high of 85. It had been a fabulous summer for riding motorcycles.
We had received more rain than normal, and the lakes and rivers were full of
water for once, after about ten consecutive years of some form of a drought.
The rain that we had received was mostly at night, and had not hindered riding,
as most days had been sunny after the previous night’s rain.
She
smiled as she stepped over the small stone wall into the patio area. As soon as
I saw her approach, I stood. Walking her direction, I opened my arms to welcome
her. Greetings and departures for me had always included a hug. Male or female
companions received the same thing from me. If someone wouldn’t hug me, I was
never comfortable that they were genuine.
“How’s
my baby girl?” I asked as we embraced.
“I
love it when you call me that,” she responded.
“I
know you do, Kelli. I know you do.”
“I’m
great, now,” she said, stepping back and scrutinizing my attire.
“You
dress so simple, but you always look so good,” she said, chuckling as she said
the word ‘good’.
“Thank
you, Kelli. I appreciate the compliments.”
As
always, I had worn a dark tee shirt and dark jeans. The tee shirt fit tight to
my body, but was not a tight tee shirt. One of my pet peeves was to see a guy
that wore what we always had jokingly called a shmedium shirt, a cross between
a small and a medium. Clearly, most who wore a shmedium shirt needed a large.
My shirts fit tight because of my body structure, and not because I bought them
smaller than they should be.
“I
love the way you smell. You always smell the same. The other day at work, a guy
walked past me, and he was wearing that cologne, Yves Saint Laurent. The
L’Homme. I actually got mad, because he smelled like you. I didn’t change how I
felt when I smelled it.”
“How
was that, Kelli?”
“You
know,” she responded.
“No,
I want you to tell me. Tell me, Kelli.”
“Oh,
God. Well, I…I started thinking of you. Just, I suppose, in general. But my
thoughts about you are always thoughts that end up in the gutter,” she said,
smiling.
She
was wearing shorts, a tee shirt, and Chucks. Girls in canvas sneakers,
especially Converse Chucks made me weak. I always found the canvas sneakers to
be a tremendous turn-on; probably to the same degree that most men perceived
girls in high heels. Chucks, to me, were an 8” come fuck me pump. As I admired
her outfit, I realized we were still standing by the wall.
“Let’s
sit, Kelli. I have already ordered for us both,” I said as I took a step in the
direction of the table.
I
walked toward the table to sit down, and pulled out a chair for her. I walked
to the other side of the table and sat, crossing my legs. As we began to talk,
I watched her mouth move, her lips form words, and her hands move as she spoke
- making gestures to compliment the verbal communication she offered.
“I
love listening to you speak, Kelli. The silence between your words annoys me. I
prefer that you speak constantly, and never stop. Something about hearing you
talk comforts me or turns me on. Or both.”
“I’m
glad you like to hear me talk. It makes me feel good that you say that, whether
or not you mean it,” she responded.
“Kelli,
let me tell you something. If I say something to you, I mean it. Always. I have
no reason to tell you something that isn’t true. Do you understand me?” I
asked.
“Yes,”
she said, looking down at her feet as she responded.
“Come
here, Kelli,” I said in a sharp tone, pointing to the area beside my chair.
She
promptly stood from the chair, and walked to where I had pointed. Standing on my right side, and looking at me
with disappointment, she tried to speak. When she opened her mouth, words
didn’t immediately form. She coughed and began to try to speak again.
“I’m
sorry,” she offered, looking down at me as I sat in my chair.
“Bend
down here, Kelli,” I said in a soft yet demanding tone.
As
she bent at the waist, lowering her head to my level, I turned toward her. I
reached up, placing my right hand on the back of her neck, and slid it to her
hair line. Grasping her neck slightly, I pulled her head close to my mouth and
turned it to my left, exposing her left side to my face. With my left hand, I
reached across her face and moved her hair over the top of her ear. I began to
speak into her ear, breathing in an exaggerated form, forcing my breath into
her ear as I spoke.
“Kelli,
who owns you?” I asked.
“You
do, Erik. You do, sir,” she responded, exhausting herself of breath as she
spoke.
“That’s
right, I do. Now, Kelli, what are you going to do when I ask you to do
something?” I asked, my lips lightly touching her ear as I spoke. I reached
around her with my left hand, and placed my hand on her upper thigh, directly
under her shorts. I cupped her thigh with my left hand, squeezing lightly.
“Do
it,” she said as her knees bent.
“You
certainly will, Kelli. You certainly will,” I whispered into her ear.
She
straightened her legs, locking her knees, but remained bent over. I slid my
left hand under her shorts, and between her legs. She was well beyond wet. With
my index finger, I began to slide up and down the length of her wetness. She
began to moan lightly as my finger slid up and down, lightly touching her wet
lips.
“Kelli,”
I whispered into her ear as she moaned, “slowly rotate to your left, and place
your hands on the table. Both palms, flat on the table, and do not move. Do you
understand?”
“Uh
huh,” she nodded her head as she spoke.
I
removed my right hand from her neck, and kept my left hand in her shorts. She
began to rotate to the right, and quickly realized - as my hand slid away -
that she was going the wrong direction.
“The
other left, Kelli,” I said quietly.
She
nodded, as if in a trance, and turned the other direction. As she rotated, I
pressed a little more with the palm of my hand against the gap between her
thighs. As she began to place her hands on the table, I pressed my palm hard
against her, keeping my index finger on the outside of her wet lips.
“Bend,
Kelli, bend the fuck over. Put your fucking hands down on the table, and bend
over. Do not move, just bend over,” I directed.
As
her body bent at the waist, her knees went from bent to locked, and back to
bent; over and over. Like a child in a rocking chair, she continued to bend her
knees, rocking her muscular butt up and down. I shoved my index finger inside
of her up to the web of the finger. As if I were pointing my finger, I slid in and
out of her wet pussy, purposely causing my lower knuckles to bump against her
clit as I slid into her deeply. In a barely audible voice, I counted out loud,
as I slid my finger in and out.
Reaching
to the middle of her back, I collected her hair in my hand. I grasped it
firmly, and slowly pulled it tight. Gradually applying additional pressure, I
stopped as her back began to arch. She had a faultless body. In this position,
she defined perfection. Her perfectly rounded ass was pointing upward, as her
knees were bent significantly. Her lower back was arched, and her upper back
was raised, her palms flat on the table, her arms locked at the elbows. With my
right elbow in the center of her lower back, and her hair in my hand, I pressed
with my elbow against her lower back and pulled her hair to the left. As her
head turned slightly to the left, I straightened my posture to speak into her
ear.
“Kelli,
I am going to count to twelve. Each time I count, I am going to slide my finger
deep inside of you, and then pull it out. And when I slide it in, I am going to
bang my knuckles against your little swollen clit. Do you hear me?” I asked,
scanning the patio to confirm that we were still alone.
“Uh,”
she squeaked in an almost inaudible tone.
“I
will take that as a yes. You will, Kelli, cum on the twelfth stroke, do you
understand me?” I asked in a low demanding tone.
“I,
uh, I…don’t know if I…ok. Ok, Twelve. Oh God. Ok,” she said in short quick
breaths.
Immediately,
I slid my finger inside of her as deeply as I could, making certain that my
lower knuckles bumped against her clit. As soon as my knuckle touched her clit,
I pulled her hair taught. I slowly slid
it out completely, clearing her lips with the tip of my finger.
“One,”
I whispered sharply into her ear.
Repeating
the process, I began to tease her.
“All
the way in…all the way out. Two.”
“All
the way in, oh my God, Kelli, you’re so wet. You feel that?”
“Yes.
Yes…,” she pressed her ass toward me, pushing her clit harder against my
knuckles.
“All
the way out. Three,” I said as the tip of my finger cleared her wet lips.
“In.
Out. Four. In, and out. Five. In, and out. Six. Half way there, baby girl.
We’re half way there,” I said, pressing my elbow against her back, pulling her
hair slightly tighter.
“In…who
owns you, baby girl?” I asked, pressing my finger inside of her, and holding it
there.
“Who?
Who owns you?” I repeated, whispering in her ear.
“You,
sir. Oh God, you do,” she answered, getting louder as she answered.
“That’s
right, you…are…mine. Seven,” I said as I slid my finger out.
As
I pressed my finger inside of her again, I released her hair, and slid my hand
to her neck, cupping my palm around her clavicles, and began squeezing her
lower neck with my thumb and fingers. As I slid my finger out, I squeezed her
neck a little more.
“Eight,
Kelli. I want you to cum. Cum now.”
“Oh
God. Oh God, Erik. Ok,” she said in short choppy breaths.
As
I squeezed her neck steadily, I began to quickly slide my finger in and out, as
fast as I could. She was wet enough that her inner thighs were covered in her
wetness. My finger slid in and out with ease.
“Nine.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Cum, Kelli, cum for me. Fourteen. Cum. Fifteen.
Cum, you sexy little bitch, cum. Sixteen. Cum. For. Me,”
She
began to contract and her knees locked. As they did, I began to slide my finger
in and out as quickly as I could, being careful not to allow it to slide all
the way out. As she began to moan, I buried my finger deeply into her, and
pressed my knuckles into her clit. Rotating my hand back and forth, massaging
her clit, her body shuddered.
“Oh
fuck, Erik. Oh. My. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck,” she said loudly as pulled herself away
from my hand.
“What
the fuck are you doing to me?” she asked, turning to face me.
Grasping
the inner portion of her shorts, she tried to reposition them, as if she felt
exposed. Her entire body shook in an exaggerated fashion, and she bent her
knees.
“What
the fuck?” she said again, still standing directly in front of me, looking down
at me admiringly. She smiled lightly, her lips pursed.
“Is
there a problem, Kelli?” I asked.
“I’m
weak for you.” she answered, and then continued, “You make me cum so hard, so
easily. It’s like you have some way to crawl into my mind. I both love you and
hate you for it.”
“Oh
really,” I responded.
“Oh,
God. I didn’t mean that. The love part. You know what I meant,” she apologized.
“You’re
fine, Kelli. I know what you mean,” I responded, nodding my head.
She
went back to her seat and sat down. As she reached for her purse, her hands
were clearly shaking. I debated whether or not to mention it. I decided there
was nothing to lose in doing so, and I brought it up.
“Your
hands, they’re shaking,” I stated, pointing to her outstretched arm.
“Yours
would be shaking, too. If I were you, and you were me, you’d shake. I guarantee
it. You do something to me, Erik. Something no one else has ever done, and
probably never will do. You told me you were going to ruin me. Well,
congratulations, I am officially ruined. Smelling you makes me wet. Seeing you
makes my heart race. Having you touch me, touch me anywhere…makes me shiver.
Having you bring me to orgasm makes me shake. The aftermath of an orgasm with
you, the post-coital state…is beyond any other orgasm I have ever had. Ever.
Just the aftershock,” she tossed her purse in the center of the table and held
her hand out, palm down, arm outstretched.
Her
hand was clearly shaking. She attempted for a few seconds to hold it still as
it continued to shake. Laughing, she pulled her hand back and placed in in her
lap. I admired the color of her hair, almost blue-black. The color of her hair
suited her so well. Straight and black, very healthy looking. The color
complimented her skin tone, and her skin complimented her hair; a perfect
match. Lost in admiration of her gorgeous natural features, I realized she was
speaking.
“…and
then I want you to pull it out and bend me over. So, what do you think?” she
said
“Excuse
me?” I asked, only hearing a portion of what she had said.
“You
want me to repeat it?” she asked, looking puzzled.
“I’m
sorry, baby girl, I didn’t hear you,” I offered as I crossed my legs, and
leaned forward.
Smiling,
she began to speak again. “I love it when you call me that. How could anyone
ever get sick of you? Ok. What I said was this. I want to suck your cock. I
want you to put your hands on my throat, and squeeze it. I want you to fuck my
mouth until my eyes water. And then I want you to pull your cock out of my
mouth, and bend me over and fuck me. Ragged. Fuck me ragged Erik,” she said,
leaning closer to me as she spoke.
“You
said all of that?”
“No,
I added to it. I want you to let me suck your cock. We’ll start there. That’s a
good beginning. I want your big cock in my mouth, Erik; let me suck it.”
“Damn,
Kelli. You’re wound up, aren’t you?”
“Are
you fucking kidding me? You just finger fucked me into a coma while I was bent
over a table in a public outdoor restaurant -- while people walked by on the
sidewalk. I felt like that orgasm was extracted from my chest, went through my
soul, and exited out of my pussy, Erik. Have you ever had an orgasm like that?
I fucking doubt it. I like fucking you, and I fucking like you. Make note of
that. Put it in your Outlook in that outdated Blackberry you carry. Make a
permanent note of it, Kelli likes fucking me.”
“You’re
a mouthy little fucker, aren’t you?”
“I’m
sorry, I was just kidding, don’t get mad at me,” she said apologetically.
“Not
at all, actually, I like it. That’s different, and a turn-on, Kelli. Good
work,” I said, waving my hand toward her, palm up.
As
she started to speak, the waiter approached with our food.
“Two
Cobb salads?” he asked, holding a salad in each hand.
“Yes,
can we get those boxed to go, please? We have had an emergency come up,” I
said, as I winked at Kelli.
“I’m
sorry for the delay, sir. Normally we’re quicker. It’s just, well…we just
opened, it’s early,” the waiter apologized.
“No
concerns, just box them to go, and bring the check please. We have just had an
emergency,” I said in a friendly tone.
As
the waiter walked away, Kelli looked at me, smiling. There were so many things
about her that separated her from the other women that I had ever exposed
myself to - her naturally gorgeous looks, for one. She was stunningly beautiful
just being herself. No make-up, no special presentation. Just being her natural
self, she was breathtaking. Her naturally submissive attitude, personality, and
demeanor certainly were a breath of fresh air to me. Not having to train
someone to be or act as I preferred them was quite a comfort. There was no worry
about her reverting back to who she was by nature. Naturally, this was Kelli.
Take her or leave her.
“Where
are we going?” Kelli asked as the waiter walked away.
“To
the mall, Kelli, we’re going to the mall,” I responded, smiling.
