The Game

In my convertible, I drive down the boulevard, on a Tuesday afternoon, enjoying the warm and sunny weather. A man catches my attention. He is tall and handsome. And he is wearing a pair of white sneakers, denim shorts and a white sleeveless shirt that hugs his muscular physique. I am interested in him. So I pull up to the bus stop.

"Hello, my name is Nina," I say. "Is there some place I can take you?"

"Do you always pick up men who you don't know?" the man asks.

"I only pick up men who I find to be irresistible," I reply.

His smile reveals a perfect set of white teeth.

"You haven't answered my question. Is there some place I can take you?"

"I need to go to Danny's Auto Body Shop on 69th street to pick up my car."

"I know where that is. It's not too far from here. Hop in. I'll take you."

After he settles into the passenger's side, he says, "Thanks. By the way, my name is Patrick."

As I drive him to where he needs to go, I can feel his eyes on me. So I glance at Patrick, and notice him staring at my legs. He licks his lips.

My legs are long and shapely. And they look pretty good in a pair of spandex shorts which I'm wearing at the moment.

"So Nina, tell me a little bit about yourself."

Pressing the brake for a red light, I ask, "What is it that you would like to know?"

"Whatever, you think I should know."

I formulate my thoughts before giving an answer, and then I say, "Well, I enjoy riding stick, deep penetration, rough sex, watching porn, and masturbating while being watched by my lover."

His mouth falls open.

Giggling, I hit the gas pedal. The light has changed to green.

Once I'm done laughing, I tell Patrick to tell me a little bit about himself.

Within a few seconds, he says, "I like to stamp packages, and leave my signature behind. So the proof of my delivery can always be confirmed."

"That's cute." I say, sounding unimpressed. But little does he know how much his words have just aroused the hell out of me.

A few minutes later, I am parked in front of the auto body shop.

"Thanks again," Patrick says. Then he opens the door, and begins to step out of my car. I tell him to wait a minute. He pauses. Reaching over, and opening the glove compartment, I retrieve a pen and a piece of paper. Then I write down my number.

"Give me a call, later" I say, as I offer the paper to him.

"Now, why would I want to do that?"

"It will benefit us both."

With a big smile on his face, he takes the paper from me, and gets out of my car. Closing the door, he walks away.

Patrick has left my hormones to rage, and I know when I get home I will have to change my panties. I have made a mess. ***** It is 8:45pm on a Friday night.

I'm lying in my bed while reading a book.

I am bored out my mind.

My phone rings and when I say, "hello" it is Patrick. This is the first time I have heard from him in three days. I am pissed.

"What did you say your name is? I ask, pretending not to know who he is. "How did we meet again?"

"That's very funny," he says, not believing that I don't remember him. "I apologize for not contacting you sooner. I have been very busy. Please let me make it up to you by taking you out this evening. I'll pick you up at ten o'clock. What's your address?"

"Excuse me," I say. "Don't you think you are getting ahead of yourself? I didn't agree on going out with you."

"But I know you want to."

I am quiet for a moment.

"I was very busy before you called," I finally say, lying. "But I guess I can rearrange my plans." ***** One hour later, I am checking myself out in my full length mirror. I have on a short, red and backless halter dress, with red stilettos. My hair is free flowing, and my makeup is lightly done for a natural look.

In the distance, I hear my door bell chime.

So I leave my bedroom, and head to the front door.

When I open it, Patrick takes my breath away. He looks very different from the man I had picked up at the bus stop. The casual look he wore at that time is replaced with a more refined one. He is wearing black dress pants, a short sleeve muscle shirt that is blue and slightly sheer, and a black pair of designer shoes.

With a dirty mind, I stare at his muscular chest and arms.

"Please come in," I say, closing the door behind him. "I just have to get my purse."

I begin to walk away.

Taking me by the arm, he pulls me toward him. While facing Patrick, he says, "not so quickly." Then he kisses me on the lips, followed by a hug. He presses his body, so closely, against mine that I can feel his excitement. But he is not the only one who is aroused. My body resembles the fourth of July. There are sparks everywhere. ***** We manage to make it out my house. We head to a lounge that is not too far from where I live. Once we arrive there, we head for the bar. I order an Orgasm. He orders a Screwdriver. Next, we take our drinks to a table that is in a secluded area of the lounge. The lights are very dim, and soft music plays in the background.

"How deep does your river run?" Patrick inquires, as he samples his drink.

"Very deep," I say. "And if you're not careful, you will drown."

"I'm a great swimmer," he replies. "Let me show you my tongue stroke."

Patrick goes underneath the tablecloth.

"What are you doing? There are people around."

"Well, I guess you're going to have to find some way not to draw attention to us."

With that said, he puts his head underneath my dress. Discovering that I'm not wearing any panties, he says, "how convenient!"

I smirk. Then I look around and notice that the few people who are scattered about are busy doing their own thing, not paying us any attention.

Patrick begins to write the letters of the alphabet with his tongue against my clit. I hold on to the edge of the table for dear life while I swallow my moans, and fight my emotions in an effort to control myself.

But by the time he makes it to the last letter, my body convulses, and I release my sweet love overflowing with affection for his tongue. ***** Within minutes, we arrive at my house. And as soon as I close the front door, Patrick grabs my hair from behind. Then he pushes me up against the closed door.

In my ear, he says, "What happened at the lounge was only an appetizer. "My dick is a chef. So it can't wait to serve you its main course."

After that, Patrick turns me to face him. He kisses my lips hard and with urgency. Ripping my dress from my body, using just one of his hands, he starts caressing, sucking, and licking my welcoming breasts.

We end up in the bedroom where I take off his clothes. After the last article of clothing is removed, he pulls me down to the floor. His missile is ready for take off. It enters my wet pussy from the back. He works me in the doggie style position skillfully. His thrusts are long...slow... deep...fast...hard.

I moan, repeatedly, and I am in sweet agony. After many strokes delivered with precision, he pulls himself out of me. With my back, facing him, I get up from the floor, and begin to walk away. But I can barely walk straight. Patrick chuckles at this sight. "Do you need some help?" he asks, teasingly, as he stands to his feet.

Not wanting to give Patrick the satisfaction of thinking, just because he has banged the hell out of me (which I loved every minute) and my knees are weak, as a result, doesn't mean I can't make his knees weak as well, and do so much more. So I walk back to Patrick with pep in my step. He is thrown off by the sudden change in my movement. Then I drop to my knees. Before he can utter a single word, I begin to blow his instrument. My mouth plays it fast and slow and slow and fast while I enclose one of my hands around his masculine power, sliding up and down. His erection is nice and hard.

After a few minutes go by, I stop giving Patrick head service. I am not ready for him to come yet.

Noticing how he is having trouble keeping his balance, I smirk.

"Do you need some help?" I ask, teasingly.

"I see you got jokes," he says.

Making it to my feet, I push Patrick into the bed where he lands on his back. I jump on top of him, and smother his lips with a deep and passionate kiss. Then I bite, lick and dig my nails into his chest. A deep sigh escapes his lips.

Thereafter, I sit on top of his happiness to see me. In the reverse cowgirl position, I move my waist round and round, back and forth. I do this repeatedly. Meanwhile, I look over my shoulder to get a glimpse at his face. His eyes are rolling back inside of his head, and his breathing is heavy. He is on the brick of busting a nut, and not much longer, he releases his excitement inside the walls of my flesh.

Within seconds, Patrick falls asleep. And as I look at him, I know that our roles are over, and the script is finished.

Then I glance at a picture sitting on the nightstand of the two of us, dressed in all white, on our special day. I smile before turning out the light