Sam, At Last, pt 1

It finally happened. Sam and I fucked. For the longest time, I was unsure about him. He was always the perfect gentleman, buying me dinner, picking me up, taking me out to the opera and classic films. On the doorstep of my little cottage, he'd kiss my cheek goodnight and make sure that I got in safe. That was all. Eventually, I just assumed he was only interested in my friendship. Perhaps I was too young. On our second date he'd told me about his first wife, but they'd been divorced for years. Maybe he had something going on with Rainier, and wasn't excited by women.
Things started changing around the end of March. The weather grew warmer, and a Puccini opera came to town. Sam bought tickets at the concert hall for a Sunday afternoon showing, his preferred time, as we could go to a late dinner at the lovely little French place down the street. I wore a clingy black dress with my thigh highs and a lacy garter belt underneath, and high heels. Even if Sam wasn't interested, someone else might be.
"You look stunning," said Sam. He's in his early forties, with the craggy face of an old film star in a Western. He was wearing a suit, but no tie.
Our seats were up in the back, the quiet part of the theater. There weren't many people around at all. We each had a glass of wine, and sat just in time for the curtain to go up. The opera began, and it was marvelous. Intermission, and we were out in the lobby, getting another glass.
"Look at those two," Sam whispered to me. He was talking about a very old, fat man and his date, a very young woman with silky blonde hair. She kept shifting her weight from leg to leg, and looking at him, slyly. When we got back to our seats, we noticed they were sitting in the row on the edge of the balcony, apart from everyone else. We were the closest people to them. Again, the lights dimmed, the curtain went up, and we were absorbed in the music.
Only a few moments later, I noticed the old man begin to kiss the young woman. I nudged Sam, and we had a giggle. Now, half our attention was on the opera, and half was on the couple. She looked back and up at us once, but I saw it out of my peripherals, as my attention was on the stage. Lucky, because she must have been convinced we either couldn't see us or weren't paying attention.
He twined his fingers in her long hair, and began pushing her head towards his lap, while his left hand was unzipping the fly of his dress pants. A second later, his purple pecker was poking through his fly, and he tugged at it, getting it positioned as he wanted it.
"Are you watching this?" I asked, honestly shocked. And excited. The guy didn't have a huge cock, but it was still hot. The woman parted her lips and began working the head of his cock with her tongue, swirling it around, running it under the edge. He gently ran his fingers through her hair. Sam laughed softly, and squeezed my hand. His palm was sweaty. I couldn't help but glance over at the front of his pants, but the angle wasn't good and I couldn't tell if he was getting hard. I was soaked.
The old man tightened his grip in his date's hair and began moving her head to the rhythm he liked, pulling her up and down like she was a sex toy. Drool clung to the top of his cock in long strings. Occasionally, she looked up at him, wanting approval, but he just shoved her mouth back down on his straining member. Eventually, he moved her up and down faster and faster, and then shoved his hips up once, twice, and let out a long breath. They sat a moment, her face still glued to his crotch, and then she sat up, leaving his now limp cock clean and damp. She tucked her hair back behind her ears, and looked back up at us, but we were watching the opera.
We were the first out of the theater, giggling.
"Dinner?" said Sam, and I was a disappointed. I was tingling, but. I decided to just enjoy him, and accept that he wasn't interested in me, sexually. So we went and had a nice dinner, and conversation. He kept bringing it back to the couple, though.
"Can you believe people do that?" he said.
"A lot of people have exhibitionist fantasies," I said, sipping my wine. Rain was coming down outside, a typical March day.
"Do they?" Sam said, looking at me.
"I've heard rumor," I said. "As long as it's not hurting anyone, what's the harm?"
"I suppose," he said. He has the bluest eyes, and he directed them at me for a long moment.
The sun was set by the time he drove me home, and he parked on the street and walked me up to the cottage door, and said, "Bunny..."
I let him wrap his arm around me, and pull me in tight. For the first time, we kissed on the mouth, our hot lips parting, our tongues meeting. Maybe it was the wait, or the tenor of the night, but it was the most erotically charged kiss I've ever had. A minute later, or maybe it was an hour, we took a breath and looked at each other.
"Do you want to come in?" I said.
"Very badly," he said. "But I'm not going to. I want you to come over tomorrow night. Will you do that?"
"Of course," I said. "Of course."

Goodbye Cheri, part one

Cheri left town yesterday, and I'll get to that in a bit. I suppose it's a good thing, really. She can be such a distraction. When I was working on my novel and she'd call me up, or just stop by and the rest of the day would be shot. I don't mind slagging her because she knows I love it, and anyway, she's reading it (Hi Cheri!). This blog's partly for her, to keep her up on my adventures.
It was cold, but all the snow was gone, so it was no problem getting an Uber over to Cheri's place. It wasn't going to be a late night for her, since she had to hit the road so early the next day. She suggested we go for a drink, so we walked to her local bar, the one we'd been to a million times before, picking up men. Before I bought my house, I lived with her for a year or so, and it was our regular.
Don't get me wrong, I get plenty of guys looking at me, but not like Cheri. She's tall and willowy, with long blonde hair that she sometimes has dyed a very ethereal and natural shade of red, and has these big blue eyes and insanely long legs, an innocent face, a filthy mind.
Ryan was behind the bar. It was slow, for a Friday. The lights were low, rain was coming down on the windows and there was constant traffic on the street outside. It was cozy and soothing. Cheri and Bran dated for awhile. They broke up because he wanted to get serious and marry her, and she wasn't interested. They're friends now, though. According to Cheri, Bran had one of the biggest dicks she'd ever seen, and she's kind of the expert.
"Are you leaving Saturday?" Brian asked. He came from behind the bar and gave us each a big hug.
"I thought I'd get a head start, I'm leaving tomorrow," said Cheri. "Boxes are in the van."
Brian's not Cheri's usual flavor. He's Goth, and skinny, which is what makes his cock such a shock. I saw it once. One night I went to my bedroom to write, leaving the two of them in the living room.
I was distracted for a half an hour or so, working on a story. Without thinking, I opened my door to get a glass of water. They didn't hear me. Cheri was lying down on the couch, facing away from me, and Brian was standing over her, naked. His cock was only half hard, but it dangled down like a third, stunted leg. He rubbed the head against her tits, her rosy nipples sticking straight up from arousal.
As I took a quiet step back, he looked up and saw me, standing there, watching. There was a moment of intense eye contact, and his thing began to quickly inflate to its full size. The head was well bigger than the shaft, a total red plum that swelled to purple. I was so turned on, watching him stab my best friend's tits with his huge cock. Cheri caught it in her hand, and I saw her working the pre-cum over the head. They spoke for a moment, but I couldn't hear.
He slid that big cock into her mouth, working it all over her wet lips. Cheri still had her trademark white cotton panties on, and I watched her free hand digging around down there, masturbating as she tried to suck Brian's enormous cock. His eyes met mine for a second, and his motions increased. Then Cherie grabbed his cock from her mouth, and sat up. I could tell they were going to fuck. That was when we first lived together, before we knew each other all that well, and I retreated back into my room before she could see me.
When Brian hugged her in the bar last night, we looked at each other again, and I could see the outline of his cock grow. Cheri reached down and grabbed it, gave it a quick squeeze, and then he went back behind the bar. There was an old man playing video poker in the corner, and some young couple in the corner.
Brian made us the usual Manhattans dividing the shaker between two glasses. "I'll have to make 'em one at a time now for you, Bunny. You'll still come in, right?"
"Of course," I said, even though I live on the other side of town now. A group of people came in, so we moved to a booth. The old man playing video poker left, and so did the couple. Cheri and I talked about her plans. She's moving to San Francisco for a change of scene. She'd better come visit. A lot. She's a fantastic visual artist, making abstract figures out of clay.
By the time everyone left the bar, it was about eleven.
"Is Garrett coming?" I asked. Cheri wasn't sure. They had lunch earlier in the day, and that was probably their goodbye. Brian came up to the booth, polishing a pint glass. He had turned off the neon 'OPEN' sign. When the bar gets slow, they'll close early on weeknights.
"I can think of something else I'd like to see you polish," said Cheri, grabbing the front of his black pants again. Brian was almost instantly hard. "Take it out. You want to make me happy, don't you?"
Brian's eyes were glassy.
"Don't make me mad," said Cheri. "Take your cock out now, show Bunny your trick."
"Yes ma'am," said Brian. He glanced towards the door, and unzipped his fly. He had on cotton boxers underneath, and the front of his pants just sort of burst open. I squeezed my thighs together, as he laid his cock on the table. He glances towards the door again, but the situation was too tempting. His thing lay there, pale, covered with blue veins. It was thicker than his forearm. I'd never seen it close up. He lifted his balls from the front of his pants.
"That's a good boy," said Cheri, as he placed his cock on top of his balls, which he put on the table. His nuts were big and full looking, covered with wispy, light hairs. Cheri leaned forward, chin resting on her hand. I was working my pussy muscles, totally excited by the giant cock lying in front of me like Thanksgiving dinner.
Slowly at first, he began to rub against the table. It was just a slight motion, and the table was more in contact with his balls. His breathing was slow and even. He let out a slight moan. I contracted my pussy muscles every time he gave a thrust.
"Does that feel good, Brian?" said Cheri, looking up at his face. "Does it feel good to do a performance for me again? Do you like doing this in front of my friend?"
Brian moaned.
"I bet. Look at you, working that big cock. Is that how you do it, you pervert? I bet you do this alone all the time, when you're closing the bar. It's different when you have two hot chicks watching, though. Your cock is so hard right now while we watch you jerk off. No hands, even, just that thrusting against the edge of the table. I bet the cool surface feels so good on your hot, full balls. I can't wait until you unload on the table. Are you going to do that for us, Brian?"
"Oh yeah," he said, softly, thrusting a little harder. The edge of the table banged against the wall now. The enormous cockhead was rubbing on the laminate, the already sticky bar table. I could feel the gusset of my panties were soaking now. I could feel my pussy throbbing. I was so close to having an orgasm. 

"Well, I want to see him come," said Cheri. Brian's cock continued to move steadily, the thick blue veins swelling up, twisting around his shaft. "Do you want to see Brian come, Bunny?"
His cockhead was now purple, and was so swollen it looked painful. His breathing was rapid and shallow.
"Brian," I said. "You filthy masturbater. This is so gross. I bet you're going to come any second, aren't you? I bet you're going to spray your load all over this bar table, right between us. Your balls are just full of come, churning in your sac. I want you to blow it all over, right in-"   
I didn't finish. Brian stopped, suddenly.
"Ohhhhhhhh," he moaned. The first jet of come made it all the way across the table, a white streak of thick jism shooting out from his rock hard cock. The next went totally to the left, falling on the vinyl booth seat.
"Get that thing under control," Cheri said, and laughed. There were two more little spurts, and then it was over, his cock giving a few final throbs. Brian let out a big sigh. Cheri and I both applauded. He tried to look nonchalant, and then grinned. He tucked his cock back in his pants, and zipped up. My pussy ached, unfulfilled. Cheri looked feverish.
The bell on the bar door jingled.
"Don't let me ruin your good time," said Garrett. He pulled off his canvas jacket. Cheri got up. She suggested that we all go sit at the bar.
"This table's kind of sticky," she said. Garrett rolled his eyes.

I've got to go get some 'real' writing done, but that wasn't the end of the night. I'll finish that next week.