Chick Lit

Vivian grasped the ball harder, though her legs were beginning to tire. “It makes you nice and tight to work those muscles,” Dom said. His voice was getting husky. He moved closer. “Now you’re going to learn what a woman means when she says, ‘Yes, Coach’ to me.” He pushed his fingers in and out of her a few times, then rubbed the flowing juices up between her butt cheeks. He fingered her rear opening, then pushed his finger in a bit. She moved away. He pushed in hard.

“No!’ Vivian exclaimed, and pulled away. The ball dropped to the ground.

“No?” Dom thundered. He pulled his hand away, and turned her around to face him. Very quietly, he said, looking right into her astonished eyes, “Don’t say no to me. Pick up the ball.”

Vivian picked it up. She was trembling.

“Put it back where I want it.” She did so. “Turn around again, the way you were, and this time, answer me properly.”

“Yes, Coach,” she said, almost inaudibly. She bent over, closing her eyes tight. He put two fingers into her pussy, then pulled them out again. Grabbing her butt cheeks, he spread them wide apart. She felt as if her flesh would tear. Then he drove his two fingers, hard, into her back door.

She gasped from the pain and shock.

“No?” he said softly.

“No?” He moved his fingers in and out, hard, with each word. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. Then he raised his hand up, changing the angle, and drove again. She couldn’t help but mewl a bit.

“No?” he said again.

“Yes, Coach,” she moaned.

Dom moved his hand again, lifting her buttocks high. “Ready?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yes, Coach.”

Without any kindness or care, he drove his cock into her pussy, all the while keeping his two fingers deeply embedded in her bottom.

Her cries escaped her, despite her efforts, and tears ran down her face. She gripped the windowsill to keep from collapsing. Dom drove harder, delighting in every thrust, every shudder, every moan. He reached around with his free hand and grabbed her clit as Vivian sobbed helplessly.

Trying to close him out, she hugged the soccer ball tighter with her thighs, thrusting her buttocks toward him against her will. “Oh yeah, baby. You love this!” he said hoarsely. His fingers twisted her clitoris, and to her horror she felt the surges of an orgasm begin, deeper inside of her than she had ever felt. She tried to stop from coming, but he was everywhere, in front, behind, inside.

Her efforts made every aspect of the torture worse, as she moved away from one, it intensified the other. Her body, unable to escape its tormentor, heaved and wrenched, as the crashing orgasm enveloped her, pulsating, throbbing and squeezing Dom’s fingers and cock harder and harder within her.

“Oh yeah! Oh, baby!” Dom cried, and with Vivian’s total loss of control, Dom, for the first time, came right with her, shouting out his passion with hers.

Somewhere nearby, a car door slammed, and an engine started.

I told myself that all I wanted to do was flirt a bit and feel good about myself. Men continued to parade past me, mostly older guys who I think were intimidated by me--not one of them even attempted to talk to me. It was only about eight in the evening, and the younger crowd probably hadn't arrived, but I was tired from the tennis and the alcohol, and I was about to give up and leave. I reached for my glass when a pair of sunglasses slid onto the bar in front of me, and a guy slid onto the stool next to me.

He was young--probably as old as my son Chucky. His long dark hair hung to his shoulders, he had a deep tan, blue eyes, a wonderful smile, and lots of muscles. He wore cutoff jeans and flip-flops, and his black sleeveless tee shirt accentuated his biceps. His smirk showed that he was very sure of himself.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Rick, and you're incredibly sexy."

Hmmmm. I could have said the same to him I guess, but I couldn't seem to find the right words. I only know what I felt--a throbbing between my legs.

"You're taking a lot for granted," I murmured.

"What?" he said. "That I'm Rick, or that you're sexy?"

"That I'm interested."

"I'm not assuming that you're interested," he said. "But, yes, I am taking it for granted that you're sexy."

I laughed--I tittered like I was a little girl. Then I uncrossed and crossed my legs as slowly as I possibly could, making sure that Rick got a perfect view of my undies.

"Well," I said, batting my eyelids, "thank you. I'm CJ."

"CJ?"

"Christine," I said. "CJ to my friends."

"CJ it is."

"How old are you?" I asked.

"I'm twenty six," he said. "How old are you?"

"How old do you think?"

"Thirty?"

"Good guess," I said. If he only knew the truth!

"Do you always hit on older women?" I asked, uncrossing my legs and letting my ankle rest on top of my knee. By now my tennis skirt was covering only a few inches of my thighs and my undies were on permanent display. They were so wet that they might have been transparent, and I was so fucking horny.

Rick couldn't have been more obvious as he stared at my crotch. His cockiness disappeared and was replaced by palpable nervousness, and I could actually see a vein pulsing in his neck. His voice seemed to tremble as he mumbled, "I'll answer that after I get us another drink. What do you want?"

My mind raced--I wanted something with a cherry because a cherry is much sexier than an olive, and I needed a prop, a sexy prop. I had no idea what a Manhattan was made out of, but I was pretty sure it had a cherry.

"I'll have a Manhattan, thanks," I said.

Rick frantically tried to wave down the bartender. "Two Manhattans," he shouted.

"Do you like Manhattans?" I asked.

"Hell if I know," he said. "If you're having one, then I'm having one."

Oh, yeah. I was in control of this situation.

I glanced down at Rick's shorts. The poor guy's cock was already hard and was growing down one of his pants legs. I closed my eyes and tried not to stare, but at the same time I tried to imagine what it would look like if I unzipped his shorts and took it out.

Rick waited until our drinks showed up before he tried to say another word. He took a big gulp from his glass, cleared his throat, and started to utter something. As soon as he did, I turned to the bar to pick up my glass, knowing that he would be able to get a perfect view of my boobs through the side of my tee shirt.

And my nipples, if it was possible, got harder.

I lifted the cherry out of my drink and closed my teeth around the stem. Then I closed my lips and sucked the cherry into my mouth. "Mmmm. I liked that."

A bead of sweat ran down Rick's cheek.

I laid my hand on his leg and asked, "You want yours?"

"My...what?"

"Your cherry," I said. "Do you want your cherry?"

God, I was having fun with this. I was also beginning to feel the bar spinning around my head.

Rick's leg started to jiggle and he started to stammer. "I, uh..."

I squeezed his knee and smiled.

"Listen--thank you for the drink, but I have to go now," I said. I reached over and took the cherry out of Rick's drink and snapped it off the stem.

Then I downed my Manhattan in one gulp and tried to stand up. It was then that I knew my legs weren't going to carry me.

"Whoa," I said. "I'm a little shaky." I fell slightly forward with my legs spread and, as luck would have it, my crotch straddled his left knee.

"Come on," Rick said, "I'll walk you to your car." He threw a twenty-dollar bill on the bar, held me under my arms, lifted me up, and I just started giggling. After he made sure I was steady, he started walking. I grabbed his arm, pressed my boobs into it and followed, not knowing and not caring where we were going.

We got about two rows into the parking lot when he pushed me up against the side of a van. He pulled my tee shirt out of my skirt, shoved his hands under it, and started squeezing my tits. His hands were calloused and rough, and when he pinched my nipples, the pleasure was incredibly intense. He bent down and took one entire breast into his mouth, ran his tongue around my nipple, and then slithered to the other breast. My mind screamed "no" but my body screamed "yes." I lowered my hand to his crotch and tried to squeeze his hard-on, but I was weaker than a baby.

He pulled back a little, fondled me with one of his hands, and stared into my eyes like he was daring me to stop him. When I stared back and licked my lips, he slid his other hand down my over my stomach into my skirt, over my pubic area, and between my legs.

"Rick..." I whispered. I guess the fact that I pulled him to me and drove my tongue as far into his mouth as I could gave him the idea that I wasn't going to stop him.

I shifted my weight, separated my legs, and hooked one behind his knee. I pressed my ass against the van, pushed against his hand, and felt his fingers making circles on my clit until he shoved two or three fingers inside of me. I pushed against him and he pushed harder and I pushed harder and then he said, "Let's get out of here."

"NO!" I gasped. "Just keep doing what you're doing!"

Rick moved his fingers faster and I moved my hips to match him. Then, in less than a minute, I felt myself coming.

I clenched my teeth and moaned, "Oh, God, Oh God, Oh God."

I put the side of my face on his chest and pushed down on his hand just to feel his fingers some more. His heart was pounding against his chest and I swear that I could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat from the fingers inside me. It was my first orgasm in two years and it happened because some guy finger-fucked me, and it felt fantastic.

Rick held me until my orgasm passed, and then he let me slowly slide down him until I could stand up by myself.

"Christ, your snatch was the wettest I've ever felt," he groaned.

I laced my arms around his neck and waited until I could catch my breath, and then I pressed up against him and kissed him on the neck and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For coming so soon," I said. "Let me make it up to you."

I slid down to my knees and unzipped his pants. I was shaking--violently shaking--as I took out his shaft and examined it. It was thick, almost as thick as Charlie's, and in the dim light it looked beautiful. I licked the underside of it, tasted the salt from his sweat, and felt him shudder. I ran my hands up his ass cheeks, pulled him toward me, opened my mouth, and I didn't care if anyone saw me or not--I was going to take my time and enjoy sucking him off. I slid his cock into my mouth and took it in as far as I could, squeezing his ass and moving up and down, slowly at first and then faster and faster.

I was hoping that Rick could hold off, but I guess he was so excited that I only sucked him for about twenty seconds before he came. When he did, I almost choked. You see, I haven't let Charlie come in my mouth for years and I forgot what it was like and besides, when Charlie came, it wasn't like Rick. Rick exploded in my mouth, so much so that I almost had to stop and pull away. But I wasn't about to let some guy's jism fall on my tennis skirt, not a skirt that cost forty-nine dollars, so I winced and swallowed every drop he gave me.

I kept moving my mouth up and down on him until he started to get softer, and then I was sure he was done. I put my hands on his hips, pulled myself up and tried to stand on legs that felt like wet noodles.

"Wow," I gasped.

"Yeah," Rick said. "Wow." His eyes were heavy lidded and sated, but his smile was feral and rapacious.

"Well, now what?" I mumbled.

That was supposed to be a question meant only for me. I was thinking, okay you just sat in a bar, let guys stare at your tits and your pussy, and and sucked someone off. How do you top that?

But I said it out loud and Rick provided the answer.

"Now we go fuck," he said with a sexy smirk.

Okay, that was a bit rough, but what did I expect him to say?