I tried once again to flirt a bit in some questions I asked, but now Mike did what I had done at the start, he avoided any double meanings and answered everything straight. By the time we left the restaurant I thought he would end the date. I was considering it myself.
But Mike flagged a cab for us to go to the movie theater. He held the door for me, and then as he slid inside his hand touched mine, and I got another one of those shivers. I put my briefcase and purse near the window, forcing me to sit more in the middle of the bench, and Mike’s leg was right up against mine, our hips touching, and now the tingle not only raised the hair on the back of my arm, but traveled up my leg, under my skirt, and right to my pussy. Involuntarily I squeezed my legs together, just as I would have if Mike had tried to feel me up.
What was this? Was this the animal magnetism everyone talked about? Whatever it was, it was real.
As soon as he was situated in the cab, Mike moved away from me, toward the door on his side, not like I was a leper, but just to give me more space. Or so I imagined. Once again, not even sure if I liked this guy, his pedigree notwithstanding, my body leaned toward him, following him. After a few blocks I had sidled back against him, using the crazy driving of the New York cabbie as an excuse to slip across the seat.
For his part Mike didn’t do anything untoward, and the trip was mostly in silence. But although I didn’t speak, my body was screaming, to me, to Mike. My leg that rubbed against his was hot, and yet the more I leaned into him the more Mike seemed to pull away. I should have felt cheap, just wanting this man to react to me, but I didn’t think about that, not really, I just couldn’t control myself.
When we got out, we could see the line for the movie snaking down the block. That wasn’t uncommon for the city; the theaters were so small they didn’t have much of a waiting area inside. But this one seemed abnormally long. We took our places at the back of the line. Once again I got the distinct feeling that Mike had written me off; his part of the conversation was reactive and short, just enough to be polite. I resigned myself to this being a one and only date, with the only consolation that I’d get to see the movie I wanted to see.
So I was completely surprised when, with no warning, and with strangers almost touching us, Mike put his arms around me, pulled me tight, and kissed me. I mean, really kissed me. Not a friendly, that was an okay first date, maybe I’ll call you kiss. Not a that was a good first date, expect me to call you kiss. Not even a I want to let you know how I feel kiss.
No, this was more of a You know we’re going to fuck, so let’s get started right now kiss. I was stunned, but not too stunned that I didn’t kiss him back. My mouth, following the urgent orders of my body, did its own thing, completely overwhelming my mind’s tentative protestations of being in public.
It was an incredible kiss. Mike was a great kisser. Or maybe it was the surprise of it all, not only his seeming sudden interest, or the mild exhibitionism. Or that I had wanted to get some real proof of his interest, the primal woman wanting to attract the virile cave man.
Whatever it was, my arms were around him, my tongue was in his mouth. I was so into it I dropped my briefcase, my laptop thudding to the street, but I didn’t care. The people around us may have been hooting or laughing or clapping, I wouldn’t have heard.
When we finally broke, Mike said, “Do you really want to wait in this line?”
I shook my head, and dazedly picked up my briefcase as Mike hailed another cab. In the backseat, our bodies very close now, Mike asked, “Where do you live?”
Without a second of hesitation, I told him.
“Your place is closer.” Mike repeated the address to the cabbie, and before the taxi had made its way into traffic Mike had his mouth on me again, pushing against me, my breasts squeezed under his muscular chest, my nipples hardening again. I didn’t care about anything, the honking horns of the busy traffic, the smelly cab, the wantonness of my twisted skirt, riding up my thighs.
I didn’t know what I would do if Mike had groped me right there. Part of me was afraid he would, and a part of me wanted him to do it.
When the cab stopped Mike threw some money in the front seat and got out. I took the time to straighten my skirt, knowing my makeup was a mess, and right now, not caring. I didn’t live in a doorman building, I couldn’t afford one just yet, and I fumbled for the key to the outer door. Inside the foyer an older woman who lived a floor below me was waiting for the elevator, and she gave me a look that told me right away she noticed my disheveled appearance.
In the elevator Mike stood against the back wall, his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. I stared at the back of the woman’s neck and tried not to gasp as I felt Mike’s erection pushing against the top of my ass. I could hear my breathing in the small space, so loud that I thought the woman must be thinking Mike and I were having sex.
The five floors seemed to take forever, and when the woman got off I said, “Good night,” but it came out like a squeak, and as soon as the doors closed Mike pushed me against the wall and kissed me. His hand came up, I thought he was going to grab my breasts, but instead he lay his palm on my belly, which for some reason turned me on even more, his fingers inches from my nipples, and also within striking distance of my pussy. He pinned me against the wall with his body, the hum of the elevator no match for my shaking, his hand squeezed between us, making me even more aware of his fingers.
The elevator stopped, the ding barely registering, and only when the door stayed open did Mike move, but he didn’t break the kiss, he pulled me out the door, our lips still locked. Now we were in the dim corridor, and again I was pinned against the wall with a thump, and I had a harrowing thought of my next door neighbor coming out to see what the commotion was about.
I pulled away from Mike, not really wanting to, and led the way to my apartment, thrusting the key in the lock, the door banging open. I had barely entered the narrow alcove when Mike grabbed me by the hips and spun me around. I dropped my briefcase again, and my purse, and my arms were around him, my mouth reaching up to his, my hand in his hair.
I don’t remember ever having been kissed like this, maybe once or twice in the throws of sex with Ward, after two years together. To be reacting like this on the first date was so unlike me, so terrible, so unfathomable.
Yet I couldn’t deny myself, or Mike, and when he slid his hand under my jacket to cup my breast I not only didn’t resist but thrust my chest forward at him. He found my nipple immediately, right through my blouse and bra, rubbing it between his fingers, harder than I was used to, but totally matching the intensity I was feeling.
“You turn me on so much,” he murmured, which was exactly what I was thinking, and maybe he said this to every woman he was with but right then I didn’t care, I was just so excited by his apparent change of heart and his desire.
“How much?” I managed to ask.
Mike grabbed my hand and guided it between us, placing it firmly on his very hard cock. “This much.”
I’d never touched a man on a first date, even through his pants, but it felt so natural, so right for the moment, and I kneaded him through his expensive, soft woolen suit, feeling his response via my mouth as he kissed me. Mike’s fingers continued to fondle my nipple, and I thought it would burst through the fabric. With his other hand he worked at my jacket, pulling it down behind me, not quite off, but enough to give him unfettered access to my breasts.
He kissed my neck, sending a new shiver through me, and then he started to work his way down, but he was so tall he couldn’t reach my breasts with his mouth. With a frustrated growl he grabbed me under the ass and effortlessly lifted me up, holding me against the wall until my chest was near his face. One of my heels dropped the floor, and I dangled there, looking down at him, cradling his head. Mike clamped his mouth onto my breast, mouthing me through the fabric, finding my nipple with his teeth, clenching it, pulling at it.
I threw back my head, the wall grabbing at my hair, it’s hardness making me
think of his cock, and I suddenly wanted it in my hands again. I reached down instinctively, but my hands were way too far away to reach his manhood, I could only clutch at his back.
Perhaps sensing my frustration Mike carried me into the living room, my legs wrapped around his back, his hands tightly squeezing my ass. He dropped me onto the sofa, my skirt askew, hiked up my thighs. Mike got on his knees in front of the sofa as he yanked my blouse out of my skirt. Before I could protest his mouth was on the bare skin of my belly, and I moaned, there was no tingle now, but a raging fire. He continued to free my blouse, giving him access to more of my belly, my chest, and now his lips were back on my breasts, with just the thin fabric of my bra between us.
I wanted him to stop, I wanted him to keep going, I wanted to touch him, I wanted everything and nothing, it was too fast, but I couldn’t stop myself, I couldn’t stop him.
Mike worked his chin up along the top of the cup, forcing my bra down, his late day beard scratching me, electric, and then magically my nipple was in his mouth, and I cried out, feeling it elongate as he sucked on it, gulping it into his mouth, a little rough, demanding. I pulled his head toward me, and he sucked harder, harder than I had ever been suckled, and just as I thought I would scream he stopped, dropping his head back to my belly, and I groaned, missing the attention, grabbing at his hair, trying to pull him back up.
But he was too strong, he had other intentions, his hands were under my skirt, pulling at my underwear. Mike’s powerful forearms held down my thighs as he worked my underwear down, one hand now lifting my skirt.
“No, no,” I whispered, but I don’t think he heard me, or I said it so softly because it’s only what I thought I needed to be saying, I didn’t want him to hear me. Mike pulled my panties down to my ankles, my legs, squeezed together in protection, actually making it easier for him undress me.
As he slid my underwear fully off me the cool wisp of the air conditioning blew across my now naked, hot pussy, the difference in temperature so acute it was as if an alarm had gone off. Suddenly alert I grabbed my skirt and pushed it down over myself. What was I doing? I never have sex on a first date! And I didn’t want this to be some one night stand, deep down I hoped this could be something serious, I didn’t want Mike to get the wrong idea, that I was some kind of slut.
Mike was on his knees in front of the couch, staring up at me, my chest heaving, my hands holding my skirt tight against my thighs. I could feel the flush in my cheeks.
“What’s the matter?” Mike asked. “Don’t you like being licked?”
“It’s not that,” I said, trying to gain some semblance of control. “We just met . . . I don’t want you to think . . .”
Mike laughed and started kissing my ankles, my calves, working his way slowly up my legs, past my knees. “I want to keep going,” he said, nibbling at the hem of my skirt.
And I wanted it too, so help me, whatever chemical thing that was flowing between us was overwhelming me. I hadn’t wanted sex this badly with any man I had ever been with.
But I had to draw the line somewhere, I had to set a boundary, otherwise I didn’t know what might happen. I gave orders all day at work, I needed that power now, that sense of control. “You can lick me, but that’s all.”
“That’s all?” I couldn’t see Mike’s face, he was busy lifting my skirt with his mouth, his tongue scraping against my sensitive inner thighs. “What about me? Don’t I get anything?”
“You’re getting me,” I said, but he had put thoughts into my head, of my hands on his cock, of my mouth on it, sucking it.
Of him fucking me.
No, no, I couldn’t do that, not tonight . . .
Mike forced my skirt up a little higher, past my half hearted attempts to hold it down, and now his face was hidden underneath. His hands were on my legs, slowly spreading them apart, and I knew I should be fighting him, stopping him, but my mouth was dry, my legs had gone weak. Little by little I let my legs be spread, and then I was taken by this urge to see his face. I grabbed my skirt and lifted it up, reaching for his head, lacing my fingers in his thick wavy hair.
“That’s better,” he said, and now, unhindered, his lips were inches from my pussy, and unconsciously I lifted my hips off the couch, my body reaching for him. “See?” he said. “You do want it.”
And without warning he shoved his face forward, his tongue arcing out, driving into my pussy, the force almost like a cock, and for the first time in my life I screamed during sex as Mike’s tongue slid across my clit as it entered me. I could tell I was soaking wet, and he would know it too, all my protestations now ridiculous in light of this proof of my arousal.
I grabbed at Mike’s hair, pulling him into me, my legs spreading wide. I was helpless, almost bound in my twisted clothing, as he fucked me with his tongue, then nibbled at my clit, hard. Back and forth he went, from my pussy to my clit, lashing into me, and then mouthing my clit, I could feel it swell in his mouth.
I felt ashamed, my legs spread like a whore, giving it up on a first date, and yet I didn’t stop him, I don’t know if I had the power, I’d never been so turned on in my life. I’d been licked many times before, but only after being in a relationship long enough to be comfortable. This man was a virtual stranger, we’d only known each other a few hours, I knew nothing about him, we hadn’t spent a night together, we hadn’t talked about anything real, we hadn’t even seen each other naked.
And here I was, letting him lick me, letting him have his way with me.
And Mike certainly knew what he was doing, I’d never been licked like this before, it made me wonder how many women he had licked, but right then I didn’t care, that was something to worry about later, I just closed my eyes, lost in the feeling. Normally I was a little self conscious about having a man go down on me, especially the first time, but I had none of that hesitation now, I spread my legs as wide as they could go. Mike slipped his arms under my legs and lifted them up higher, his tongue reaching down, down, almost to my ass, and I gasped, no one had ever licked me there, and I started to shake. He rode his tongue back up, grazing across my labia, and then down again, and I held my breath, wondering how far he would go. . .
He teased me, going lower and lower each time, tantalizing me with a wicked taboo. I was frozen, I wanted to stop him, but I was completely at his mercy, his tongue was getting closer. . .
The next time his mouth hit my clit I moaned, I don’t think it mattered, he would have known, and now he kept his tongue on my most sensitive spot, going in circles, the pressure building, and I could almost feel him smile as I reached my climax, my hips thrusting forward, exploding into his face. I thrashed on the couch, I couldn’t take it any more, my orgasm still shaking me but my clit now overly sensitive. Mike held me down, his tongue on my clit, as if to show me who was in charge, and then just as I thought I would faint he drove his tongue into the wetness of my pussy, holding it there long after the last of my spasms subsided.
I struggled to catch my breath as Mike rocked back on his knees. He made a show of draping my skirt back over my legs. “There you go,” he said, the cockiness oozing from his voice. “All covered up again. Prim and proper.”
I think I would have rolled my eyes at that comment at any other time, but I didn’t have the strength to do even that. Mike helped me to sit up as he dropped onto the couch, his arm around me. He bent over for a kiss, and I involuntarily turned my head, he had just licked me, I’d never kissed a man after doing that, but he used his chin to force my lips back toward him, his mouth finding mine, his tongue pushing into me. I tasted myself for the first time, never imagining that I’d want to do that, or like it, but the pure vulgarity of it aroused me, and I was sucking on his tongue, swallowing my own juices.
Mike took my hand and placed it on his crotch, his stiff erection pressuring his slacks, his fingers making me fondle him. With his other hand he undid his belt and freed himself, my hand finally on his naked flesh.
There’s something about the
first touch of a man’s erect cock, something primal, a woman knew a guy probably got an erection just thinking about sex, but for some reason touching it always felt so gratifying. I could convince myself that Mike was aroused because of me, that I was the one making him hard, I had done this, it was a power I had over him. I slowly stroked him, my fingers making a circle around his shaft, sliding up and down.
Mike broke from the kiss and sat back on the couch, watching me work him. He had a really nice cock, smooth, not as dark as his skin but with the same olive tone. I spun my fingers around the edge of the tip, and it jumped, I had hit a sensitive spot. Seeing it like this, in my hand, in my power, thrilled me. I had just come, I wasn’t a multiple orgasm type, and yet stroking Mike’s cock kept me connected to him, it kept whatever magic electricity we had flowing, and I felt myself start to get warm all over.
I fidgeted, and Mike reached over and grabbed me by the hips, lifting me up, he was going to sit me on him. I couldn’t do that, not now, not unprotected, I had to draw the line. Without trying to reject him I twisted my body away and stroked harder, hoping I could get him to come before I lost control and let him fuck me against what little judgment I had left.
“Handjobs are so impersonal,” he said, trying to pull me on him again.
I slipped out of his grasp, dropping to my knees on the floor, holding his cock with both my hands. “This isn’t,” I said, and I kissed his cock, my tongue darting along his opening.
“You can do better than that,” he said. “Suck it.”
Mike was goading me, and I knew it, and he was being lewd, and it should have turned my stomach but no one had ever spoken to me like that, and my already sopping pussy got even wetter, and for a brief instant I thought about straddling him, taking him inside me, restraint and prim and proper and protection be damned. But I got hold of myself, and took him in my mouth, another first, giving a blowjob on a first date.
Revenge In The Hamptons (Revenge Is Best Served Hot (Powerful Women Series)) Page 3