I was thirty-one, single, and running an upscale shopping center in Washington, D.C. I was also in a long-distance relationship with my French-Polish girlfriend, Yvonne, who was almost a decade younger than me, finishing up her undergraduate studies at Princeton in Central Jersey.
Yvonne and I were able to get together, on the average, about every other weekend. When we did, our fucking sessions made bunnies envious. We never visited the site of the nation's capital, nor toured the stately Ivy League campus.
We just fucked and sucked. And I couldn't help but notice that with each passing weekend, Yvonne's oral skills were becoming more and more talented. Not that I minded, after all, I was the recipient. But I couldn't help but wonder where, and on whom, she was practicing her new-found oral skills.
For those of you who don't pay attention to such matters, the District of Columbia, by any measure, is a great place for a young, single guy to reside. The area has a greater ratio of single women to single men than any other metropolitan market in the country. I have my own theory on why, and granted, it's a bit simplistic, and it's not just the transient nature of the government-based job market.
So many of these women are career-oriented first and foremost. They are upwardly mobile to the point of being one-dimensional. Sex, in many cases, is an afterthought to them. They are busy honing networking and honing their crafts and worrying about getting on the next A-list party invitations.
Then there was Annie O' Donnell. Annie was pretty much singularly interested in furthering her craft as an accomplished cock sucker. She was savvy enough to realize that in a city of Magna Cum Laudas and prima donnas, men ultimately didn't care about a woman's political ladder-climbing. No matter how rich or powerful they may be, men only really want a woman who would suck the phallic symbol that is the Washington Monument.
So that brings me to how Annie and I, um, met.
My marketing director in the Mall had recently hired a third-party concierge vendor to run our customer service office, which was placed in a vacant shop in the common area. I let the marketing people attend to all the details, and it wasn't until the second week of the concierge's operation that I even noticed Annie.
I was down the hall in the conference room of our office on the lower level when I saw the mini-skirted redhead with the great gams walk into the copy room. I only saw her from behind at first, but that was a good enough view to make me muse, "Well, what have we here? Where the fuck did THIS come from?"
I could have easily gone and introduced myself, but instead, I went down the hall and whispered to our office manager, Carolyn, an older black woman with a matronly manner, "Um, who is that in the copy room?"
She smiled at me in that knowing way that older women have when they know that a man is interested in another woman. "I was wondering when you were going to get around to asking." Carolyn called down the hall, "Oh, Annie, could you come here a moment, please? I'd like you to meet our Mall Manager."
Giving Carolyn a dirty look, I turned and saw the front view. It was even better this way. Annie's bountiful tits were bouncing happily through a cranberry blouse, which attractively augmented her short, strawberry locks and crystal blue eyes. Oh, and freckles. Annie had freckles that made her look like a porn-style version of Little Orphan Annie. I couldn't help but notice that those freckles continued down her neck and onto her chest, which was framed by a push-up bra and three open buttons on the blouse.
She smiled at me in a very confident way. "Hello, Mr. Grabowski, I've been looking forward to meeting you. I understand you're originally from Philadelphia. So am I. Go Eagles!" She waved her arms like a cheerleader holding imaginary pom-poms while her real titty pom-poms jiggled up and down.
I wasn't much of an Eagles fan, but in that moment, I became a bigger one.
Carolyn saw my reaction and the look in my eye and quickly made sure that no one was going to do anything stupid here. Carolyn held out Annie's left hand and displayed the tiny diamond engagement ring on her finger. "Annie just got engaged, just last week, isn't that right, Annie?"
Annie smiled the smile of a newly-engaged woman who liked being the center of conversation. "Yep, but we haven't set a date yet." Annie looked at me with those birds-egg-blue eyes. "See, my Bradley lives in Raleigh and I don't get to see him that much. He's in law school. So we only see each other maybe once a month, twice at most."
She then surprised me by knowing my personal romantic situation. "I understand you're in a long-distance relationship, too, Mr. Grabowski. Any wedding plans in the future?"
Carolyn looked at me with a raised eyebrow. She was curious to hear my answer, too. "No, I, uh, I don't think so, Annie. We'll see how that goes. Annie, please, call me John. You're making me feel old."
I went back to my office, aware that I was half-hard. I loved redheads with big tits and nice legs. I'm sure that doesn't exactly put me in a minority, but if I had a type, well, Annie was the poster girl. I was pondering this when she stuck her head into my office.
"I'm going down to the Washington Harbor after work today for a drink. It's such a lovely day, and I won't be seeing Bradley this weekend." Was that a hint?
She looked at me intently, almost hungrily, her sunny demeanor turning sultry. Or was it my imagination?
Her voice was hushed now as she peeked back over her shoulder to make sure no one could overhear. "Come with me. I want you to come."
I smiled at her, my curiosity not being the only thing that was rising. "You'd like me to come, eh? Why is that?"
She almost whispered her response, pushing a strawberry lock off of her forehead, her eyes blazing into mine.
"Don't worry. I can be very discreet. And I really want you to.....come."
She emphasized that last verb, letting it linger in the air. It lingered in my mind for the rest of the day.
I was more than intrigued as to what she pledged she could be discreet about, so, by six-thirty on a gorgeous September evening, I was searching the crowd at the outdoor bar of Tony and Joe's when I saw her in a corner, surrounded by two young lobbyist-looking types.
Annie had one knee raised and bent backwards, bracing herself against the outdoor wall of the restaurant which had a large roped-in bar area that sat along the banks of the Potomac River. The young hawks swooped in like they had found their meal for the evening, and Annie's large eyes lit up in a mixture of relief and surprise when she spotted me.
"Mister Gra.....I mean, John!" She squealed and burst through the yuppies and rushed towards me, gripping me in a tight bear hug. Before I knew it, Annie's hot and long tongue was snaking down my throat. After my initial shock, I realized she was letting go any time soon and I started kissing back. Hard. Annie could kiss, she had a great mouth.
