He put his hands on my shoulders, keeping me in place while he moved behind me. He kissed my neck, rather aggressively, moving my hair to one side. He slid his hands underneath the lace cups of the bra and played with my nipples and awoke so many different senses inside me that I didn’t know my nipples were connected to. How did I manage to feel that in my toes? In my fingers? And everywhere else? He continued to kiss my neck, he put a few of his fingers in my mouth, and then he went back to my breasts, but now with moistened fingers, and my nipples grew incredibly more sensitive. They were warm and cold from the saliva and the severe drop in temperature in the store. I’m not sure why he didn’t want to kiss my lips but he wanted to caress my body and kiss my neck. Is this what real men did? I wasn’t so sure, but I liked it.
I could feel myself getting wet and I found myself wondering whether my panties could hold the moisture. He continued to touch my breasts and I started to squirm. I found my pelvis dry humping the air, like it was just trying to grab onto something. It was bizarre—my body wasn’t sure what to do—it had never been touched like this before.
His fingers went over the garter and underneath my panties. I could feel a hard cock pressing through his matching lace panties behind me against my right butt cheek. I was soaking wet; his fingers were strong and thick, and they circled around the area between my legs with ease. I was beginning to shake. He kissed my neck harder and his fingers began going faster. The panties were getting looser on my body. He found my clit, and I started to breathe heavily as he moved his finger up and down and up and down on it. We had several hundred vibrators and dildos at our disposal but I wanted nothing but his fingers. His large bodily mass enveloped me, his beard scratched against my ear, and his stockings and cock were pressed up against my ass while he catered to my clit so powerfully. He then took his other hand, reached down my ass, went underneath me, and stuck a finger inside my vagina. There was so much wetness he quickly stuck in two, and I slid myself up and down on his fingers while he continued to put pressure on my clit. “More,” I yelled. I wanted more. I wanted more fingers, toes, arms, whatever—I wanted more of him inside me. He put another finger inside me and I loved the way my vagina felt challenged. His four fingers were thicker than an average cock, and they moved inside of me further and further. I moaned and moaned; he held onto my neck and lightly choked me.
He turned me around and pushed me down into the folding chair. I’m not sure how I landed so gracefully on there in the dark, but I did. He got down on his knees and spread my legs far apart, he pushed my lace panties to the side. I wasn’t sure what his plan was, but I quickly felt a jolt of steam hit my labia; his hot breath. He licked his tongue up and down my vagina, teasing me, showing off all he could do with his mouth. I could feel so many foreign juices of mine seep into his mouth. I wanted him to taste every bit of me. His tongue was just as powerful as his fingers, but he spoiled me by stabbing his four fingers back inside me, going deeper and deeper while keeping his mouth on my clit. He curled his fingers inside me. He went really hard while licking and licking furiously. I felt out of control. I was shaking vigorously and uncontrollably. It was dark in here—did he swipe a dildo off the shelf that I couldn’t see that he was sticking inside me? He was hitting a new spot somewhere inside me with his powerful fingers. I felt myself open up, my legs were spreading further and further open. They felt like Jell-O, and I thought they might just detach from my body and walk away.
He sucked and licked, with my pubic hairs in his mouth and his fingers jackhammering my pussy. I didn’t feel like I had a vagina anymore—it was now officially a pussy. This body part feeling this sensation right now didn’t warrant a biological/anatomical name that would be used in a science class. It deserved a slutty name that could be found in the urban dictionary. It was now a coochie or a cunt. Something you would never say around your parents. He must have paved his own secret passageway inside my body, because nothing and no one who had ever been inside me had made me feel this way. I lost control and liquid gushed out of me everywhere. I screamed. He kept going with his fingers, and he opened his mouth and drank all the juices coming out of me. He stuck his thumb inside me, my hole was so open for him; I was panting and begging him for more as liquid streamed out of me like a garden hose watering his beard.
His whole hand was in me and he made a fist, inside of me. Holy shit. Was there really a fist inside me? I believe there was. I could see a hint of a glow from the roman numerals on his watch resting against the opening of my vagina.
He rubbed and rubbed my clit, I felt stuffed and tight and loose at the same time. I was screaming and practically crying. I couldn’t stop cumming. I hadn’t had an orgasm in so long and this one made up for lost time. This had to be like ten orgasms in one. My legs were up in the air. I clenched up and reached some kind of climax of a climax, which pushed his hand out of me. He stuck his hand in my face, and I licked my own juices off of him. As I sucked off my own body from his fingers, he began moaning louder. I saw his other hand moving up and down. He was jerking off, and I wanted to help. What should I do? He was clearly more experienced than I was. The fabric from the panties was still on his cock, and he moved his hand swiftly up and down. I wasn’t sure what I should do, I felt drunk from my multiple orgasms.
He let out a big loud grunt. He had such a sexy deep voice that just got deeper as he was climaxing. It was hard to tell what was going on in the dark. He put his thigh up to my mouth, I could feel warm stickiness on top of his nylon. I licked it off, I licked everywhere in the entire surface area of his large thigh to make sure to get every last drop of cum that might be there. There was a cocktail of bodily fluids in my mouth and I didn’t want the taste to ever wash away. It was like I bit into an apple full of sex.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
He threw his T-shirt on me, grabbed his jeans and his jacket, and I locked up the store. Outside in what I was sure was becoming a hurricane, while we were drenched in orgasms and hard rain, he finally gave me a kiss. I had felt his tongue on my pussy and neck but not on the lips on my face until now. Perhaps we could continue this defiance of the order of typical dating operations and next we will get dinner, and then, maybe after, learn each other’s last names.
We headed toward his eighteen-wheeler semi truck. It looked so sexy and powerful next to my puny Honda Civic. Where we were headed, I wasn’t so sure, but I was excited to see what would happen next.
28
I had a beautiful night’s sleep in the back of Billy’s truck, in a tiny loft space he built on top of the seats. It was called a “sleeper,” rather appropriately, with a small mattress that we fit on together snugly. His sheets were red and silky, his pillows were black and fluffy, and there were multiple bumpy foam egg crates between the sheet and the mattress, which gave it that extra oomph of comfort.
We slept parked underneath an overpass so the rain wouldn’t hit the windows quite as hard. We woke up sometime in the afternoon, and watched downloaded episodes of Twin Peaks on his laptop. We heated up organic microwave burritos (I had no idea organic ones existed—microwave meals have come a long way) and Billy tried on different pieces of lingerie that he recently purchased from Walmart. The items weren’t nearly as flattering as the ones from Dreamz. They looked cheap, and the lace didn’t have quite the same feel, and the stockings ripped as soon as they came out of the package.