“You mean me?”
I look around the girls with me at the bar but he is looking straight at me; he nods his head and beckons me over. Walking ahead of me he reaches behind him, so I take his hand; he grips my hand tight. What is going on?
Outside in the pub’s summer garden he chooses a table for two people and holds a chair for me. When I sit he then sits too but not quite opposite me; more obliquely to sit closer. Once again he takes my hand and looks me straight in the eyes; it is most disconcerting and although I want to drop me eyes in embarrassment, I hold his gaze.
“What?” I giggle, “what’s going on, what do you want?”
The guy starts to look embarrassed now. “I, er… I mean… Oh I don’t think you would…”
I raise an eyebrow, I am feeling more in control now, “Yes?”
His fingers close more tightly around my hand, his face is now crimson red but his eyes never leave mine. With a deep intake of breath he struggles to say the words that he has obviously prepared before hand.
“Jilly, will you come on a date with me”. The words are blurted out in one short breath.
OK, this is a set-up, my girlfriends have told this guy to tease me to see my reactions.
Let me tell you a little about me. I am aged 25 and single not through choice, just haven’t found a guy that likes me enough to ask me out. You see I am what kind people call a big girl and those with no feelings call fat. Not just a big girl but at five feet two inches, not that tall. People, the kind ones, say I have a pretty face and a bubbly personality. I try sometimes to convince myself that I am big-boned or that I my size is due to some quirk of nature… my glands. But the simple truth is that as a teen I lacked self confidence and I took solace in food and sweeties. Even my parents tried to convince me that it was just “puppy fat” and would soon “grow out of it”.
So you see when a hot young guy comes and asks me, by name, for a date its only normal for me to be suspicious. OK, its not the first time one or other of my friends have played a joke on me, so I will play along with the joke and maybe make life uncomfortable for him too. I look over to where my friends are peering out of the pub door; they are trying to indicate that they wonder what’s going on.
“OK, you know my name, though I don’t know which of my friends told you it. Do you have a name or at least one you’ve made up for this?” I ask.
A hurt and a somewhat confused look clouds his handsome face. He stutters out, “J… J… erm… Jon…athon… Jon”.
Oh well, I think to myself, I know this is a set up but Jon is acting his part well so I will play along, maybe I get to have some fun too. I agree to meet him for a date, we have a drink and arrange a date and I return to my friends who all talk at once pretending to be surprised and wanting to know who he is.
Of course I played dumb, saying that he was asking about a lady that my mum once knew; I studied each face to find if it revealed something that would confirm my suspicions that my scheming girlfriends knew that I was not telling the truth. To my consternation the little witches gave nothing away and seemed to lose interest as it became vital now to discover who was to pay for the next round of drinks.
If it wasn’t for Sammi asking how my date went with the hunky young guy, I would not have gone, I had completely forgotten about it. “OK, OK” I thought, I am intrigued as where this will all end. So I waved her question aside and checked my phone for the details of my date.
As a girl who is sadly without a male partner or even a male that just wants me for sex, I am not without the need for some sexual gratification and it is not unknown for me to pleasure myself from time to time; actually, quite often. My friends aren’t a help, relating stories, true or untrue, about their escapades.
For example; Sammi, one of my closest friends told how on a date, the guy did all the right things and got her so horny that she was prepared to let him fuck her in the car. She said that they sat in the car and for the first half an hour they talked and kissed, then his hands started to roam and in a vain attempt to show she was a decent girl she half-heartedly allowed him the odd squeeze of her boobs. As he kisses became hotter and his tongue tasted sweeter, Sammi admitted that she wasn’t going to be able to control her desires for too long.
Soon the guy had her top up around her neck, her bra pushed up and was sucking at her nipples like he would suck them clean off. And as soon as his hand squeezed between Sammi’s thighs and made a beeline for her coochie she knew that she had to have him.
OK, his cock didn’t appear to be the big one that she was going to need but what the heck. Unzipping his jeans she tried to release his dick but the guy made no attempt to help her. Instead his insistent fingers were almost tearing at her panties. To save the panties, and her pussy from injury Sammi pulled the undies off and tossed them aside. To her horror the guy insisted that she handed them over then buried his face in them, taking deep breaths of air through the crotch of the fabric. This was too much for Sammi and she booted him out of the car, sacrificing her underwear to him and drove home to satisfy her aching pussy with her fingers and a vibrator. My friend insists in going into lurid details of how she masturbates then giggles at my red cheeks and my hand at my crotch.
The night that my friend told me of this episode we had been drinking at my apartment and it was clear that she would have to sleep over as she was not fit to drive. I made up the spare bed and we both went to bed, tired and inebriated.
Not only did I discover that I was I not tired but the pictures of Sammi and a guy, horny and panting in her car persuaded me to get out my dildo. None of the girls have seen it! I summoned up all my courage to buy it when on a training course in a large town far from home. It was a spur-of-the-moment purchase as I was so embarrassed to be in the shop that I grabbed a box that looked as if it contained a vibrator that I could use that night after spending the day with so many hunky guys. I paid by card and left, clutching my purchase wrapped in a plain brown wrapper.
So, in bed, woozy with drink, I dressed in clothes similar to those worn by Sammi on her date and did all I was able to replicate what had happened in her car. I tore off my panties at the appropriate moment, and in my mind drove home, where, in my sweaty hand was gripped the dildo. I have become very adept at using this purple phallus; it pleasures me so much as I first of all rub it firmly over my clitoris, allowing it to only tease my lips. So many times I have brought myself to a wonderful orgasm by clitoral stimulation only, never needing to penetrate my soaking tunnel with the broad tip of the dildo.
As my internal heat builds I feel the first trickle of vaginal juice trickle between my buttocks where it tickles as it cools. It is not long before the familiar sensations begin to radiate from my clitoris and tonight I need what the guys deprived Sammi of; deep penetration.
After bringing myself to the brink of a climax a couple of times I firmly push the dildo between the inner lips of my hole. The low moan I hear, I know is mine; such an animal sound, so guttural. After three or four slow strokes that penetrate to my depths I withdraw the dark phallus, and as if it were a genuine male cock I take it in my mouth and suck it, tasting the fluids from deep inside me, sucking it until the bulbous tip depresses my tongue and I fight the gag reflex to swallow what ought to be a human penis as far as I can, even shutting off all airways until with a load gasp I have to remove the blockage in order to once again breathe.
I am hooked on the taste of my own body fluids and the hardness of the substitute cock and it’s tip pressing in the depths of my throat. I continue BJ-ing the dildo. As I do fingers now deft at pleasuring my pussy almost automatically play out the scenario of rubbing, pinching, nipping and plunging deep and wide into my pussy that now accommodates almost my entire hand.
Now I am unable to wait any longer for my ultimate pleasure; a sensation that is all encompassing; reaching every part of my body in almost excruciating pleasure/pain. Pummelling the dildo into me, rubbing and squeezing my tits then my clit, finally, with my hips thrust high, it is on me and is so debilitating that I flop to the bed unable to move for at least a minute.
As she left next morning Sammi had a word or two of advice for me that had be blushing deep red to my roots; “Hun? I know I was tired last night but nothing could sleep through your moans and screams, try a gag before the neighbours call the police to report a murder?”
So tomorrow, I shall dress in nothing special as I am sure that “Jon” will not turn up and I will look foolish waiting in vain in a public place
Next: Becky warns me to be careful, it could be a set-up…