It Was A Blind Date

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It was a blind date, a type of date he’d sworn he would never go on. In Tom’s tough guy days, when he was in college and was dating classmates, his attitude to this would have been, “I’ll never be that desperate.” His inexperience with life never taught him that existence isn’t set by any means, not by a long shot. And what you think will be is often taxed with a heavy dose of irony, commonly referred to as reality. Here he sat now, distant from his fighting weight and drinking to occupy his time for what was sure to be a depressing showdown, set up by one of his married friends. Looking at the menu then glancing back at his watch he became annoyed that this mystery girl was now running late; how pathetic had life become? His biological pessimism struck when he told himself, I was stood the fuck up! As he rubbed his forehead with the back of his thumb, the knuckle digging deep, he got up. He was about to leave when he heard a sultry voice from behind him say, “Excuse me.” Turning around and seeing that the sexy voice matched the face he almost forgot to nod. “Um, yeah, hello. You must be Celeste?” He rose to meet this attractive, petite woman and shook her slender hand as she observed him, somewhat amused. Her face was heart shaped with features sharp and dark from tanning. Her nose small, and turned up a little, gave her a young appearance. She reminded him of a sexy girl next door type, but it was her eyes that pulled people in: Dark blue, piercing and almond shaped, that lock of straight black hair falling over her left eye, just barely hiding it, gave off a very sensual look that Tom desired. “Well, good to meet you, Tom. You’ve been waiting long?” She pointed to the three empty whisky glasses on his table. Tom laughed a little too hard at that and, embarrassed, pulled out her seat while she sat, crossing her toned legs. Her dress was carmine red almanbahis and tight, crossing itself at the center of her chest while showing off her great cleavage; in fact Tom had a hard time not staring at the way the light in the dim restaurant glowed over the valley of her dark breasts. “Can we order quickly?” she asked, staring down at the Leather clad menu. “I’m starving and I just need something in me.” Tom took a gulp of his whiskey – served neat – while almost laughing like a stupid kid at Celeste’s comment. When the waitress arrived he ordered his drink, then pointing to Celeste the waitress took her order. He’d learned something in college; never order a woman’s drink unless she lets you. The waitress took their menu orders and told them it would be about fifteen minutes. “Sounds good; this will also be on one bill.” The waitress nodded, leaving the two alone. “Do you like French food, Celeste? I haven’t been here for a while, but I remember it being great and it still looks kinda the same.” He clenched his teeth as soon as the words left him, annoyed at his tedious rambling. She just shrugged her slender shoulders, “I guess, but Tom, a better question would be are they real?” She grinned, revealing some very nice, white teeth behind mischievous lips, and then, looking away from his blank face she took a sip of the gin and tonic she’d ordered, pressing her dark lips against the straw. Tom thought he might have misheard her, and then, clearing his voice, asked what she meant exactly. “So, this is the angle you’re going for?” She took another sip, her profound blue eyes meeting his. “Order me another, and I’ll fill you in.” When they got their drinks he watched Celeste smile innocently at the waitress, while tucking a piece of raven black hair behind her ear. Sitting there he wondered whether to proceed with his question, which now seemed too interesting almanbahis yeni giriş not to. He crossed his fingers in front of him, “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong or…” before being able to finish he felt her toes curled around and searching for his cock, which quickly grew into a solid mass. She finished her drink, chewing on some of the ice left in the glass, while stretching out with her toes and then using them to clutch at his erection and balls. Everything went silent for Tom as she twirled her big toe just under his sack, and all he could hear was his own excited breathing. Searching over her shoulder, a smirk cut across her sun kissed face. She opened her mouth, pressing her lips and watched his eyes and face as they grew heavy with his arousal, and then it hit him. She spit in his face, reaching all the way across the table. He felt her saliva, warm and dense, connect just under his eye. He perked up and looked around the restaurant in shock. “What the fuck,” he said in a hushed voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you–” “Cunt?” She queried, finishing his sentence. She stopped playing with his cock, and slipped on her black and silver heel. Tom wiped away the spit with his hand, but before smearing it on a napkin she told him in a calm tone, “Put that in your mouth. I want you to taste me, asshole.” She watched him like an eagle from its perch, reading him to see what his reaction would be. Tom’s breathing went from heavy and confused to heavy and intrigued as he took in her saliva. She tasted amazing. He had her smell, and liked it. She retrieved a steak knife to the right of her and tapped her teeth gently with it while leaning back in her chair. “You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” Tom pushed his hair back and finished his drink, letting the ice cool his lips. Putting the sweaty tumbler glass down, he saw that almanbahis giriş she was up, walking away. He watched her leave, licking the corners of his mouth, before she looked back at him. Her middle finger went up, meant for him, and she placed it in the center of her fucking, tight little ass. He could see her ass muscles ripple under that dress of hers, and each time a cheek went up and down it was calling to him. He stood up and followed her to wherever she was hopefully leading him as she sauntered down some stairs, turning the corner and cutting left. He could smell her sweet, thick scent on his finger as he rolled around the same corner just in time to see the women’s washroom door swing closed. He paused a moment, casting a look over his shoulder then pushed the door open again. She was pressed against the black and white tile of the room, her dress pulled up to her waist exposing muscled thighs and a thin, black lace thong. She held the dress with her right hand while two fingers were pushed deep inside her. He could hear the sploshing of her wet pussy with every thrust. He locked the door and approached, kissing her exposed neck, a slight vein pulsating just beside her throat. Her dark eyelids closed tight before fluttering open, “Fuck” she groaned biting the top of his ear. He reached through the opening of her dress and squeezed her right breast, fondling her hot skin while her nipples tensed between his rough fingers. He took off her dress with a few clumsy yanks, her straight hair a sexy tangle as she looked at him while biting her lower lip, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders. He stepped back to admire this woman in only her high heels, and loved those tits, round and firm, and the way her nipples were pointed and willing as they searched the air. Leaning into her, he put his mouth around those nipples, nibbling slightly. “Harder,” she demanded, slapping him firmly across the face. “And use the tip of your tongue, you prick. Have you never done this shit before?” He probed her nipples with his tongue and his front teeth, tasting and pinching her hard.

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