The Demise of the Pesky Hangup

You probably won’t believe this, but I never intended to vaporize the pesky hangup. Sure, I wanted to, especially with you. But I was resigned to it being part of my life. As you said, it would be questionable if I was “out there getting your groove on with just anyone.”

Then I got that email with those nine magic words: “I play my softball games in Lincoln – at Central.” Um, excuse me? You are less than two miles from my house on a regular basis? The mind boggled.

I decided to make it my mission to hook up with you after a game. It took weeks of lobbying, planning, etc., but somehow, the planets all aligned one night. And the fun, she was about to begin. But I still had no intention of fucking you.

You called to tell me the game was over, and when I arrived I parked in a corner of the lot. I backed in to get a good view of the fields, and watched everyone else leave. You spotted me and pulled your car into the adjacent spot, put the window down and invited me inside.

I liked using your car as our “base of operations”, since my research found it has a cargo capacity of 85.8 cubic feet, compared to mine at 72.9.

I wore a pair of short, olive green shorts, a pink tank top and black flip flops. As I got in the car and sat next to you, you seemed to like the outfit, but I was pretty sure you’d have a more definitive opinion of what was underneath.

There was a pause during which we just looked at each other. I could ponder how we were actually there together, or seize the moment before someone chickened out…but then your hand slid up my shorts as your lips met mine. [God bless the bench seat]. I opened my legs to allow better access, and you inserted a finger into my snatch. “You’re soaking wet. Fuckin’ turn on,” you exclaimed. [Couldn’t possibly understand how you’d find this surprising, but you have mentioned you’re dense.] As we continued kissing, I kept getting wetter. Truth be told, I’ve been wet almost constantly since I started thinking about getting naked with you.

Before addressing that wetness, you had things to do above the waist, and removed my top to reveal a white lace bra. You pushed the cup aside to lick my nipple, then ditched the bra completely for full access to my tits. You stroked each of them with your tongue, causing my eyes to close, my nipples to harden and a low moan to break the silence. Next your hands gave an excellent and decidedly non-medical breast exam, continuing past them to caress the soft skin below.

Just as the confines of the front seat became problematic, you grabbed a blanket and invited me outside. [I hesitated, but had to admit the car wasn’t particularly conducive to naughty behavior.] You spread the blanket on the grass between the trees and cars to shield us from view.

The insanely bright lights illuminating the field were a bit worrisome, but the risk factor increased the excitement.

Once we assumed our positions on the blanket, I removed your jersey. I wasn’t surprised to find the source of those awesome hugs to be a set of broad, muscular shoulders. And your tattoos, which I was certain would be gross, turned out to be incredibly sexy.

We kissed again while getting horizontal. I became aware of a poking against my thigh and decided to direct my attention there. I dispensed with your softball pants and compression shorts with some difficulty, and was very pleased with what I found. I was not disappointed to discover that you’re shaved (methinks you are a metrosexual). I kissed you again and cupped your balls with my left hand, using a finger to tickle them. You moaned and thrust closer to me, but I wasn’t inclined to rush what could be my only chance.

Of course, my pussy had other ideas. As a result of all this activity, and the months of anticipation leading up to it, it was radiating heat. I kept imagining sitting on your steely cock, swallowing it inside me, your hands on my hips as I moved up and down. When I used the headboard to steady myself, my tits brushed your face, and you took the opportunity to lick them. It was difficult to think about anything else, even though I had no intention of going there.

Before things really got started, I looked straight into your sexy green eyes and said, “Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.” [I have this obsessive need to make you feel good, and I had to do it just right.]

Your reply, “Surprise me,” was completely unhelpful, but I was confident I could figure it out.

I removed my shorts, and when you saw my lacy thong, there was a sharp intake of breath. You reached down to caress my ass, then my entire body. Your hands felt so good all over me. I can’t remember the last time someone touched me like that.

We kissed again, and as we did you rubbed your cock against me. “This is the effect you have on me,” you said, referring to your increasing hardness. I smiled at the rush of those words, and decided it was time to make love to you with my mouth. I traveled slowly southward, leaving a trail of licks and kisses in my wake. The salty taste of your sweat was such a turn on. When I reached my goal I started slow, but not as slow as I’d planned. [Torturing someone becomes way less fun if I torture myself in the process.] I began bathing your balls with my tongue, causing your eyes to close. “Oh yeah, baby – that’s so good,” you said. Encouraged, I continued licking, simultaneously squeezing very gently with my left hand to intensify the effect. Meanwhile, I held your growing cock in my right hand, but fought the urge to pay it much attention. All in due time.

When the subject of my cocksucking skills came up, I suspect you weren’t sure I could really deliver. I usually don’t mention my talent, because I prefer that the guy find out for himself. However, in this case it seemed appropriate, maybe because I had to work so hard to get you where I wanted you (a girl in marketing mode has to use whatever she’s got). Anyway, when it was time to prove myself, I was ready. I grasped your steely shaft more firmly and began to lick up and down, with my tongue made pointy, with it flat, flicking sideways along the underside (you seemed to enjoy this the most) and any other way I could think of. If not for the few sips of Johnnie Walker Black I slipped you now and then, hidden in a Starbucks cup, I don’t think you would have lasted as long. Fortunately for me, this also served to lower your resistance, which would come in handy shortly.

As I continued licking you, occasionally circling the head, I used my left hand to squeeze your balls. You said nothing, but your face told me I was on the right track. I immediately decided I needed you in my mouth. I couldn’t wait one more second to show you what I can do. I sucked you in very slowly, and you moaned your approval. I made my mouth tight like a little pussy, and simultaneously applied my tongue all over your length. Happily, this stiffened you beyond reason. As you know, there is nothing more important than rock-hard when it comes to cocks (at least in my opinion).

I was surprised when you gently pulled away and announced it was my turn. I laid down and you removed my thong, pausing to inhale my scent before commencing the “mean pussy licking” I’d heard so much about. At last, I was about to find out if you lived up to your own hype. “Mmm – you taste good,” you said, and set about the business of driving me crazy. [This would not be difficult.]

Your tongue started its journey around my opening slowly, at a rather torturous pace, and continued that way for what seemed like a very long time. You purposefully avoided my clit, tracing the outlines of my inner and outer pussy lips, and inserting your nimble tongue inside me. Obviously you’d done this before.

Once you decided I was about at my limit, you finally allowed your tongue to play with my clit. You flicked it back and forth, pausing now and then to enter my snatch, all of which sent me into orbit. “You make me so fucking hot,” I said. “I want you so bad.”

I had been debating whether or not to fuck you. It was much easier in the heat of the moment to consider surrender, but I still had that nagging morality clause in my head. Then you said those five words that would push me over the edge: “Baby, you are so beautiful”. And just like that, the pesky hang-up was no more.

I gently moved away, retrieved my emergency condom, opened the package, and whispered, “I need to feel you inside me.”

I figured this would cause some confusion, but somehow you sensed I was serious. “Are you sure? Really?”

“Shut up and fuck me,” I replied, then smiled sheepishly, realizing how crazy that sounded. But I had to get my point across before either of us had time to think about it. There was an emptiness in me that only you could fill.

There was an internal dilemma on your part, and I held my breath as you thought it through, but I needn’t have worried. Thanks to the alcohol, and the vulnerability that comes with full balls and a raging hard-on, it only lasted a few seconds.

I watched you roll the condom on, my eyes wide with desire and anticipation. “I can’t wait to fuck you,” you whispered. “I have to know what it feels like inside that hot little pussy.” Just the sound of your voice at that moment, talking dirty to me, felt as if it could put me over the edge. You seemed to move in slow motion, either due to my extreme impatience, or because you were messin’ with me.

Finally it was time for you to penetrate. I was anxious to see how you would choose to position me, and was not surprised when you gently guided me to my elbows, leaving my rear in the air. You seemed to appreciate my ass as you entered me from behind, very slowly, eventually filling me completely at last. “God you’re tight.” [Seemed like a perfect fit to me.] Your steely dick stroking in and out of me felt so slick, and so hot. If only I could see your face.

Evidently you’re psychic, because you pulled out, allowing me to turn over and spread my legs wide for you. [As if on cue, the bright lights went out, and I could see you only by moonlight.] You smiled a mischievous smile and began rubbing your cock against my clit. While I needed you back inside me, I couldn’t deny the appeal of what you were doing. “Oh fuck – that feels incredible,” I said, remembering your need for feedback about what feels good. As you pushed me closer and closer to climax, my left hand found your balls and began to knead them gently. You abruptly stopped what you were doing, closed your eyes and just experienced what I was doing to you. This lasted, I assumed, until you needed to be back inside me. I gasped as you slid in again, all at once. “That’s it, baby. Fill me all the way up with that big hard cock.” My legs found their way to your shoulders, and I was reminded how much I’d missed the feel of full penetration. You know, where he’s in so deep you’re afraid he might actually break through. Oh my God, yes.

When you pulled out to rub your dick against my clit again, I focused on the amazing feeling so I could recall this night long after we were done. I looked at you and our eyes locked, my clit tingled and I struggled to maintain control. Something told me the longer I held off, the better it would be. You slid your cock back deep inside my pussy, stroked me a few more times, pulled out again and resumed massaging my clit. It was difficult to imagine it getting any better, but with you, I’d learned to expect the unexpected. “Don’t you wanna come for me, baby?” you asked as you entered me again, for what would be the last time that night.

“Oh, yeah” I replied. “You make me so hot.”

By this time, our bodies were moving in an incendiary harmony. As you fucked me faster and faster, I delighted in the feel of your balls slapping against my ass, and the sound of your dick sliding in and out of my wetness.

Meanwhile, I could feel you getting still harder and bigger inside me. I loved how you stretched me to my limits. I responded by squeezing my pussy walls around you. “Oh Jesus – you are incredible,” you said. It was clear no matter how much we both wanted to prolong this, it was physically impossible. I briefly considered plying you with more alcohol, but I really needed to make you blow. Besides, I couldn’t wait to see if we could come together, which would be a first for me.

After a few more strokes, I was getting close, and you told me you were about to come. I reached down to feel your balls contract as you shot your hot load. And before you were done, I had the best orgasm of my life, moaning loudly until I was spent.

“What do you have to say now?” you asked.

“What pesky hangup?” I replied.