Living Single

I picked up my phone and sat on the edge of my bed as I opened the text. It was from "J.T.", short for Jill T. Jill was another of the women I'd heard from after my Craigslist posting. She'd said she'd had it in her draft mailbox for a while before finally sending it - and asked if I was still looking. Of course I'd said yes, and we'd connected shortly thereafter.

We were sensational - she was married with three kids, and was looking for some excitement that she wasn't finding at home. We found it - she's a marathon runner, and has the body you'd expect - lean, fit, and very energetic. She's a pixie at 5'4" with blonde hair and a sexy figure that you might not associate with a runner.

Because she worked, had three kids, and was married, finding the time to get together was tough, and we'd only been able to get together a few times, and usually not for as long as I think either of us would have liked. But when we were, it was spectacular - as you might expect, being very energetic was a big positive during sex.

"Open later?" was all the text said. It was also her way of asking if I'd like to get together.

My fingers danced over the screen. "Yes! When?"

"3?"

"C U then!" Wow - that was like an hour and a half away. Apparently I wasn't going to go on the bike ride I'd planned, and would be getting my aerobic exercise another way. I pulled on some shorts and a t-shirt, and, after finishing cleaning, downed a quart of gatorade and then some water, accompanied by lunch. I'd need my energy!

Right at 3, I heard her car pull up and a knock on the door. She was smiling broadly, and was wearing a pair of running shorts and a workout top - and looked amazing. I smiled back at her, and started to ask how she was, but she just dropped to her knees, pulled my shorts down, and started sucking on my cock, which took about two seconds to come fully erect. OK, so it was more than two seconds - but probably not by much! Jill was terrific at oral, and she dove in with a vengeance, making my knees buckle just a little bit. As she worked her magic mouth around on me, she worked my shorts the rest of the way off, leaving me naked from the waist down.

After luxuriating in the sensations of her sucking me for a few minutes, I took a fistful of golden blonde hair and pulled her off of my cock. As she stood, my other hand reached for her shorts and pushed them down, down, down off of her, seeing her step out of them and flick them to one side with her foot. I let my hand move under her sports top and lifted it off her at the same time she lifted my shirt off, leaving both of us naked, my cock glistening from her saliva.

I turned her around and bent her over, putting my cock between her legs and sliding back and forth, feeling her heat and my cock brushing her clit. I tweaked my position behind her and then just rammed my cock deep into her, making her grunt as my cock invaded her tight little pussy. She couldn't quite take all of me inside her at first, but that never stopped her from trying. I felt her push her ass back towards me as I slammed back in to her, with her arms on the wall by the door.

After a few more thrusts into that beautiful, lean body, we moved to the couch, where I kept her bent over and rammed my cock into her again and again, drawing a sexy moan from her each time I bottomed out. We got into a nice rhythm, and then she started leading us to the bedroom - difficult when you're still coupled. We made it, though we had to uncouple to go up the stairs, and we made it to my room.

Once we were there, I pulled out of her and turned her around to face me, leaning down and kissing her hard as I pushed her down onto the bed, feeling her legs open, that beautiful taut body underneath me. I didn't wait, plunging my cock back into her, drawing a little shriek as my cock pounded into her amazingly tight little cunt. Our eyes locked as I stayed buried inside her, and kept them locked as we fucked hard. You'd expect a runner to have strong core muscles, and Jill did - which meant she could do incredible things to my cock when it was inside her. Her hands reached my ass and grabbed; I could feel her fingernails scratching me as she tried to pull me in deeper and deeper.

We broke eye contact, and I took the chance to savor her tits in my mouth. She wasn't big - that runner thing - but they were perfectly shaped and very firm - and super sensitive. I loved chomping down on them, lashing them with my tongue, seeing and feeling her nipples pop painfully erect, and feeling her reaction as I sucked on them.

Another thought came to me, and I reached back and took one of her hands and put it up on the headboard, then reaching back for the other. I held her hands there with one hand, and reached for a drawer in my nightstand with the other. Almost - I couldn't quite make it, and had to shuffle us over a little bit before being able to reach in to the drawer and root around, finally finding what I wanted - a pair of fur lined wrist shackles.

As she heard them jingle, she turned and caught a glimpse of them as I moved them over her head and put one of her wrists through the slats of the headboard and then into the manacle, followed by her other wrist, which went in the other manacle. She was now effectively tied to the bed, and I went back to the drawer and found the other piece - a blindfold. As I put it on her, she involuntarily tried to resist, but couldn't with her hands shackled. I looked down at her and smiled to myself - she was a beautiful sight, this gorgeous nude blonde runner shackled to my bed, my cock still impaling her.

While I was putting her wrists in the manacles, I flashed back to a beautiful woman I'd actually gone out for a while. We'd been fucking, and I reached for handcuffs and had asked her as I putting them on if it was OK. I'll never forget what she said: "Don't ask. Just do."

Every time after that, with every woman I'd done that with, I'd followed her advice - and it worked. Every single time the woman would say something like she had always wanted to try it, but was afraid to ask.

I teased her with my tongue, lips, and hands, all while still keeping up a steady pounding of her with my cock. After a few minutes, she started to tip over the edge, and as her orgasm claimed her so did mine, and I erupted deep inside her, pumping her tiny tight cunt full of my seed. After what seemed like a long time, I stopped painting the inside of her womb with my white cum and rather collapsed on her, both of us shaking from the intensity. I managed to free her wrists, and she let her arms just flop above her head, seemingly too spent to move - just as I was.

Eventually, I slid off of her to and on to my side, my cock sliding out of her with an audible pop, both of us still breathing heavily. I reached with one arm and pulled her to me, spooning as our breathing returned to normal. It was easy to tell when she started to recover - I felt her pushing her ass back on my deflated cock, and to my surprise I felt myself recovering. I moved one of my hands to cup her breast, and started to play with her nipple, making her push back harder, which in turn got me harder. She moved slightly and lifted her leg just enough to let my hardening cock flop between her legs, and I could feel her scrunch her way down to put my shaft on her slit. It was amazing - I could feel the heat radiating from her pussy, and as she moved her slit was coating my cock with our combined juices.

Jill then lifted her leg and used it to push me on to my back as her slit continued to tease my cock. As we moved, I felt her adjust her position and then plunge my cock into her drenched pussy, drawing a loud moan from her as she bottomed herself out on my cock. She started to slowly piston herself up and down, moaning each time she bottomed herself out on me. She moved slowly at first, but picked up speed so that in short order she was riding my cock up and down like a jackhammer. She didn't last long, as a huge orgasm hit her and she screamed out as her entire body shook.

Her orgasm sustained itself for a surprisingly long time, her pussy convulsing on my cock, her moaning loudly the whole time. Eventually, her body returned to her, and she held herself upright, my cock still buried inside her, relishing every little twitch. Jill finally slid off my cock and laid herself down next to me.

"Omigod . . . " She was almost panting, but was recovering quickly. "That was amazing." Her eyes snapped back to focus. "What time is it?"

I glanced at the clock. "5:15." Wow - it felt like it had been 20 minutes, not over two hours.

"Damn. I have to go." She made no move to actually get up, but one of the nice things about her was that if she said something, she meant it. Just as I was about to say something, she stirred herself and sat up on the bed, which had a big and obvious wet spot on it. She saw it and laughed.

"Did we do that?" she asked, somewhat coyly.

"Yep! Strong work, that," I replied. "Good thing I have another set of sheets."

Jill snickered a little. "Yeah, and a washing machine helps too. Whoa!" That last as she stood up and realized she was still a little shaky.

I swung my legs off the bed and sat next to her. "How soon do you have to be home?" Somewhat surprisingly, I hadn't cum when she orgasmed, so I was still ready to go. Seeing her nude next to me, hair matted, with drops of white cum leaking out of her pussy didn't help to calm me down, either.

"5:30. Not gonna make that, but should head out." And this time, she stood without wobbling and we made our way back downstairs, picking up our clothes and reluctantly getting dressed.

"Damn. I want you again!" It was true - I wanted to fuck her again. And again.

She flashed a megawatt smile. "Me too. Are you up for getting together more than we have?"

That required no thought whatsoever. "Yes. Any chance we get, let's take." That was exactly how I felt - and the memory of Angie and Tracie flashing through my head didn't change it.

"Good. Every couple of weeks? My schedule should open up a little bit now." Was there a note of hope in her voice? Maybe . . .

"You bet. Text me anytime."

"OK." She kissed me hard on the mouth and was out the door like the blonde pixie she was.

I waved at her car, and then turned back to the house. I was parched - that might have been why I didn't cum in her the second time. I drank another quart of gatorade - the blue kind this time - and followed it with water. As I did, I realized I was hungry. And not just hungry - but famished. I poked around the house and ate a protein bar, but I didn't have anything that appealed for dinner. What did appeal was beef. I thought for a moment, and the answer came to me. Of course. Sunday night was prime rib night at my favorite steak place downtown - Sullivan's.

As much fun as it would be to go without showering, letting people pick up the scent of sex on me, discretion won out. The shower, again, felt great - the hot water helped loosen my muscles, and was wonderfully relaxing, which wasn't a bad thing considering how hyped up I'd been for most of the last 24 hours. I ordered an Uber driver, and then faced my closet, deciding what to wear. Sullivan's wasn't a jacket and tie required place, but it was one of the more upscale restaurants in town. I settled on a pair of gray slacks, my newish black sport jacket, and a multi-color checked shirt that a former girlfriend - a real fashionista - had picked for me. I'd looked at her a bit askance when she picked it, but I had to admit she was exactly correct - the stuff she helped me pick out invariably drew favorable comments from people.

My Uber driver arrived, and he got me there pretty quickly - very little traffic on a Sunday night. On the way, I replied to a couple of texts from Angie, Tracie, Jill, and a couple of other women I got together with. As I did, I realized that every woman I'd been with over the last few weeks was married. My brain went farther and farther back in time, to when I placed my Craigslist ad, and then started counting.

I couldn't remember exactly how many replies to the ad I'd gotten, but it was a lot - proper spelling and grammar evidently went a long way. Many of the women who replied had also said that including a picture helped them feel a lot more secure about emailing someone from the web. I'd kept a running tally of how many women I'd met off that ad, and if my memory was working I'd met 17 different women over the course of about a month and a half. Most were the classic "meet for a drink," while a couple had been over lunch or coffee.

Out of that 17, I'd had sex with 14 - a remarkable success rate. Many of them had been the same day or night we'd met - your classic hookup. A couple had been the second time we'd met - probably just to see if I was a complete nutjob or not. Jill was in that category - we'd met for a drink and then had waited a week before getting together for another drink and a day of incendiary sex. Finally, there were a couple of women where we'd gotten together the third time we'd met; Angie was one of them.

Out of the 14, I was more than a bit surprised when I counted and realized that 11 of them were married. Wow and interesting at the same time - if there's a hell, that might just get me there. My listing had been pretty neutral when it came to who I was looking for - mainly, someone attractive who was also looking for some adult fun. So it was fascinating that so many - most - of the women who responded were married. That had to mean something, but right about then the driver pulled up to Sullivan's. I tipped him generously - he'd been smart enough to see I wasn't really in the mood to talk - and walked in.

It was a madhouse. Sunday nights were usually pretty low-key, and I'd go every once in a while to take advantage of their prime rib Sunday night special. I'd never seen it so crowded, and the maître d' said it was going to be a while before I'd get a table. I asked if she had any idea why it was so busy and got a polite smile and shrug - she knew she had seen me before, but I was not a regular.

Sullivan's is your classic upper-end steak restaurant. I liked the vibe and feel - there was a bar area where you could eat, and they often had live jazz bands playing, though not tonight. The bar looked like a good option, and I was able to get a spot without too much effort. The bartender also gave me the look that she knew she had seen me before, but not enough to remember what I drank. I ordered, looked at the food menu and ordered dinner, and then turned to watch people.

It was a fun place, and popular with the downtown business and legal crowd - there were a number of successful boutique law firms nearby, and the big national firms had their offices nearby as well. It was also very close to the light rail lines that served downtown, and that also meant it was close to the baseball stadium - thankfully, the Rockies were away this weekend. The crowd was usually very good looking, and if it wasn't known as a pickup place, well, that was fine with me.

My salad arrived, and as I plowed through it I realized how hungry I was. The bartender offered another round, which sounded good. Shortly thereafter my dinner arrived, and I forgot the crowd as I attacked my plate. About three-quarters of the way through it, I felt someone claim the bar stool to my right and drop a purse and some sort of wrap on the stool next to hers. I just caught a glimpse of beautiful shiny black hair and what looked like a classic 'little black dress' before I turned back to dinner, glancing up at the TV above me and to the left that was showing a baseball game, with the crawler along the bottom reporting scores and sports news from earlier in the day.

Another motion next to me caught my attention; it was simply the woman sitting next to me looking at her watch. I finished eating and pushed the plate away, feeling sated. It had been a spectacular 24 hours - first, Angie and Tracie, followed by a couple of hours and rounds with Jill. One more drink and I'd order up another Uber driver to get me home. Well, that was the plan.

A glint of gold and more motion next to me drew my attention again - the woman was looking at her watch again, and she was getting visibly annoyed. Not overly so, but enough that you'd notice if you were paying attention. She looked extremely attractive - her face looked a bit thin, but her hair was glorious and her figure, at first blush, looked quite promising. Ah! Of course. She was meeting someone and they were running behind. Another look at her watch, which was gold and very expensive looking, but also tasteful and restrained. She sighed and then dug into her clutch purse and extracted her phone, unlocking it with a passcode and not a fingerprint. Interesting.

There were a number of messages on it, and her fingers danced around to let her read them. "Dammit," I heard her say, under her breath, not meaning for anyone to overhear.

"Not coming?" I asked.

She glanced at me, seeming to notice me for the first time. "What?"

"He's not coming?"

"Who's not coming?" She was either confused or stringing me along - and the latter seemed more likely. She had a definite presence to her, a commanding aura - and confusion did not seem likely.

"Whoever you were to meet."

"No." She looked like she was going to get up and head out, but paused. "What made you think I was meeting someone?"

I couldn't help it - I laughed just a little bit. "Do you want a list?"

Rather than laugh back, she looked faintly annoyed. "Sure," she said, in a very clipped voice - the kind of voice someone uses when they're about to chop you off.

"One, you're dressed to the nines on a Sunday night at the bar at Sullivan's. Two, you've been looking at your watch with a frequency that borders on the manic. Three, you found the one pair of open bar stools and claimed both. Four,"

She cut me off. "What are you, a lawyer?" Her tone made me think of the East Coast - a hint of challenge in it, but a note of curiosity also.

"Are you? I confess to having gone to law school," I said, which was entirely true. And I still worked on some appellate cases. "But those three facts together make the most likely explanation that you were here to meet someone who is not coming."

For an instant it looked like I'd pushed a hot button and she was thinking about throwing my water at me, but only an instant, replaced by a slight smile that had a hint of haughty in it. "No, but I've been to law school as well. Yes, I was supposed to meet someone, but he texted last minute to say he couldn't make it."

"Had you been out with him before?"

"We met for lunch and thought we'd do drinks next. Why am I telling you this?" She seemed almost annoyed with herself for having talked to me at all.

"Because I asked, and you're too polite or too ruthless to not answer."

"Where did ruthless come from?" Her eyes had narrowed.

"The first question you asked me was why I thought you were meeting someone, and the second was if I was a lawyer. Those are the questions of someone who can be ruthless."

She gave me a once-over that was supposed to be obvious. "Pity you haven't made more of yourself." The words might have been nasty, but she was now just playing.

"Yep, you might be right." Sometimes the best answer is to agree. "Rather an interesting conclusion for someone you know nothing about," I replied, trolling her just a little bit.

She took the bait. "Easy. Junior partner in law firm, late 30s or early 40s, probably divorced, thinks he's in shape because he 'works out' on weekends, thinks he's smart because he reads the NY Times and the Atlantic, and finds himself alone on a Sunday night wearing clothes that give off that 'I don't give a fuck vibe but I really do care what people think." She gave a thin smile.