Topic Pity fuck, have you?
07 Jan 2015 06:04
I first saw Debra in a nightclub standing next to a striking amazon blonde. The two of them were quite the pair. One stood nearly six foot tall, was lean and willowy with a sexy growling voice and some sort of British accent...she was from the UK but I never found out exactly where. The brunette's eyes came to the collarbone level of her taller friend.
Both were, simply put - the two best looking late thirty something women in that nightclub most every evening when I'd notice them standing court next to the bar side closest to the dance floor.
A constant stream of confident men would approach either one of them asking for a swirl to this song or that one. They were running a 90% shoot down rate, by my calculations.
Genna, the blonde, once stopped by my perch on her way back from the ladies room and brazenly inquired. "How come you and your friend have never approached either of us and asked for a dance or attempted to make small talk?"
I grinned and noticed my friend Brett smiling just to the left of me as I replied, "It's more fun to watch you two work, than it is to be worked."
Over the course of the next few years, I'd go on to dance with Genna perhaps a hundred times. Being closer to the same altitude and attitude, I felt we made better dance and drink partners.
Brett and Debra had one dance and I think he propositioned her while feeling up her nice little round firm ass during a slow ballad, and Deb let him get a cheap feel - but that was it for her and him ever again. Probably just as well, he always had a thing for honey blondes and Deb, to this day still owns a thick gorgeous mane of loose, chocolate curls.
Eventually I became trusted enough of each of them to gain their phone numbers and Genna and I even started working for the same corporation and would often take a lunch or meet on the smoking pavilion. I became pretty decent yet casual friends with both Genna and Deb over the following few years.
One Saturday afternoon in September of 2001, Debra called me and asked me what I'd had planned for that evening.
"Nothing special, the gal I've been seeing lately has girl's night out in her hometown of Topeka. I thought I might call Brett and see what's kicking with him."
"Come meet me at Fox & Hound in Overland Park. Don't bring that asshat with you. I'll be there by 6:30, it would be nice if you didn't treat me like my last two boyfriends and showed up at seven, if you catch my drift."
I agreed that I'd meet her there by 6:30 and I figured that would make for a decent jumping off point for the rest of the evening's prowlings. I'd toss back a few cocktails with a friend, grab some light dinner and be ready to hit the nightclub circuit around 8:30-9:00 pm.
On the drive to the sports bar, I called Brett to inquire what he might be up to and he had other plans with his wife that night anyway. Probably just as well, I was feeling hornier than usual and always had better luck with the women when I was flying solo as opposed to buddying around with another dude. Around 10 pm I'd be hitting the proper stride, I felt.
Fox & Hound was as dead as a whorehouse on Christmas when I walked in, which sort of surprised me...but it had been a pretty day and it was Saturday.
I strolled up to the nicely polished bar as I noticed what appeared to be what I hoped was a rum & coke in a tall glass, sitting on a wet napkin, in front of an empty bar chair. I took up residence one chair over in case it wasn't Deb's drink and she wasn't in the ladies room.
"Corona ... with the lime, please."
"Coming right up."
As I was paying the man and gathering the cold brew I felt a hand in the small of my back and turned to my right... "Hey Deb."
"I'll be damned. How long have you been waiting for me, Jeff?"
"Just got here."
That was not her drink, on the bar behind me. I'd arrived before even she had.
She seemed somewhat impressed by that.
"Can you get the first round, I just have plastic."
I agreed to and said - "What's your flavor tonight?"
She looked at the man behind the bar and said..."Can I have one of your large strawberry daiquiri's, with extra strawberries?"
He smiled and went about his business.
She wanted to shoot some pool so she walked back to the billiards room and I paid the bartender whatever the rate was back then for an hour of table time, purchased her drink, gave him a tip - and ordered a plate of appetizers as well.
We'd shot three quick games of 8-ball. She was always a pretty fair stick herself and she said, "You're not throwing these games are you, I've seen you and Brett play you know."
She had me two games to one at that point as I was racking the balls at the end of the table.
"I wouldn't do that to you, Deb."
"Wrong answer! It's my birthday and you should give me anything I want tonight!"
"Well...Happy Birthday Gorgeous...You're 30 again?"
She was 42 and could've passed for 32, but she laughed and said... "Yeap...again, I'll drink to that!
"Hey, I'm tired of making you my whipping boy on the pool table, let's get out of here and head back over to my place and let me put some meat on your bones with some of my birthday lasagna I made last night. I have a shit pile of it left and I won't ever eat it all before I have to throw it out."
I agreed - as that sounded like a good deal to me. She only lived five miles from here and that was five miles closer to where I wanted to be in another few hours. I'd tank up on some good grub and help keep a friend who obviously was a little lonely - some company on the evening of her birthday.
The thought of putting a move on Deb had never seriously crossed my mind in the previous almost four years that I'd known her. She might have thought at one time that I was playing hard to get, but seriously... I often thought that the girl was out of my league and after a year or so, I just enjoyed her company and scoping out her nice ass in tight blue jeans - more than I relished the idea of over-stepping the friendship some night and getting shot right the fuck down in flames.
As we walked to our cars in the parking lot she did mention, "Since I'm feeding you tonight - can you stop and pick up a six pack of Heineken, not any of that weak Corona piss...it'd go good with dinner."
I nodded agreement and I peeled off to the liquor store as she slid out onto the boulevard and head off to the South.
I got to her place with a two six packs of beer and she was right, it did go down great with her lasagna.
Afterwards, we sat on her screened in back porch, she lit up a fat joint of some prime skunk and we both just enjoyed each other's company for the next three beers apiece. I hadn't even been looking at my watch, but when she excused herself to use the bathroom on her second trip I did notice that it was right at 10:15 pm and I'd need to be heading out soon if I didn't want to end up hitting on the sevens or eights because any of the nines or tens were already encumbered.
I carried my empty bottle into her house and headed towards the kitchen to dispose of it, couldn't find her refuse container and just sat the bottle on her kitchen counter top.
I turned around and in the dim light of the dining room I saw her leaning against the side of the arched passageway between her living room and dining room - less than twenty feet away.
She was wearing a 1990s vintage Kansas City Chiefs 'Joe Montana' football jersey, and from what I could tell - maybe nothing else.
Deb raised the joint to her lips and as she did so, said, "Hey can you flick me your bic?"
I was pretty high but I knew a come'on when I heard one and I was digging my lighter out of my shirt pocket as I walked towards her...I went to hand her the lighter but she handed me the roach instead and turned in a graceful pirouette and started sashaying - but not overtly, down her hard wood floored hallway towards her bedroom across the hall from the bathroom I'd used a few times already.
"Light that puppy up and bring it with you, Mister."
Did I pity Debra in that moment?
Not one fucking bit. My dick immediately became so hard I could probably have cut steel plate with it...but yet I held back. Flicked my bic and took a couple of short pulls and then with the flame extinguished I inhaled one slow, long drag.
"It's my birthday, Jeffie... Aren't you supposed to give the birthday girl anything she wants on her special night?" I heard her voice from 25-30 feet away as I also suddenly heard my heartbeat pulsing in my ears.
Exhaling I tried, as casually as I could, to meter my steps down her hallway so as not to sound like a breakneck gallop.
All the lights were off, a handful of candles lit on her mirrored dresser and some light from her neighbor's backyard lamp cast a faint glow through some southerly facing windows and blinds upon her bed. She always kept most of the lights in her home either off or at a low setting so I could quickly see pretty well in that darkened room.
I just walked to the bedside and asked if she wanted another hit, and she took the evil weed from my fingertips. I backed away a step and immediately started disrobing.
"I like it when a man knows how to buy a clue," she said, laughing.
I slid onto her queen sized mattress and watched as she placed the joint into an empty coffee cup then turned back to me and said..."Give me your best shot Jeff, show me what I've been missing."
There was the usual clumsiness involved as with any new lover as the timings and position play was being established...the kisses learned, the moans heard and noted.
I began to slide my torso down the length of her petite frame as she laid on her back, and I shifted to where I was between those succulent legs...it was apparent to her where my tongue was heading and she exclaimed, "Wait...I don't do that. At least not on the first date, come back up here...
"Do you have any condoms?"
"Yeah, yeah I have one in my..."
"That's alright, I got one right here - we don't need you to go digging through your wallet for three month old rubbers!"
She'd pulled a packet out of her nightstand drawer and then laid back again atop three plush pillows, had her legs spread invitingly and I think she was rubbing her clit. In the dark it was a bit hard to discern.
I ripped open the packet and pulled out a condom that felt to my touch like it was made from balloon latex. It felt rigid and thick..and as I rolled it down my shaft, it was also somewhat constricting - and not in a pleasant, barely noticeable way.
By the time I managed to get myself sheathed, Debra had removed the football jersey and...damn, she had a marvelous set of real, firm, tig ole bitties! I could almost not wait to mount her, yet I tried to regain my composure and we kissed a bit again to establish the mood once more...
When I sunk myself into her - missionary style, I couldn't feel her warmth, I could not feel her wetness. It felt like I was wearing industrial grade pvc pool liner material wrapped tightly around my throbbing cock. She was moving her hips perfectly and her pussy felt like it was alternately trying to milk me and also grab and wrench my skinny ass around between her legs.
It felt GREAT! If only I could have really felt more. After what seemed like ten minutes of mutual thrusting where we'd established a nice rhythm but was probably only four or five, I slowly pulled out and attempted to maneuver her atop me, so she could ride cowgirl style and take some control. I could tell that a few of my thrusts had gone perhaps too deeply as her body seemed to tense up a bit too much.
"What are you doing, Jeff? You're ruining a perfectly good orgasm here."
"Just trying to add a little spice to the night, babe."
"I'm sorry I can't do that position, I've got weak knees and it aches after just a few moments...just climb back in and keep doing what you've been doing."
I dutifully obeyed - even though I seriously couldn't feel a damned thing myself.
Another ten or twenty or hell maybe thirty minutes passed. My thighs and hips and stomach were beyond aching...she finally came and I thrusted a few more times myself and gave out a low moaning, groaning grunt. I'd never faked an orgasm before, but by that time I really was more worn out and had very little adrenalin or testosterone to fuel my body as in similar other circumstances.
I was just fucking glad that she had climaxed and given me an excuse to roll over and off of her. I lay there panting along with my friend who lit up the roach and we both laid there recuperating and passing it back and forth for the next ten minutes before she took it one last time and got up and disappeared into her bathroom across the hallway.
I took that as my cue to get up, get dressed and attempt to gracefully get the fuck out of there.I was standing in the hallway by her living room, not fifteen feet from her front door when she came out of the bathroom wearing a plush, pink velour robe...She'd turned to come towards her kitchen when she noticed me in the dim light...and she smiled.
"So you're one of those guys who comes over and knocks off a piece and then leaves, are ya?"
Before I could say jackshit, she cracked her infectious belly laugh, gave me a hug and a kiss to my chest and dreamily said... "Thank you for my birthday present."
"The pleasure was almost all mine," I chuckled.
"Now you get out of here and be careful driving around tonight."
Awkward? No, not particularly. We had been friends, we'd only just had sex - couldn't we still be friends? She seemed comfortable and that chilled me out too.
Pity fuck? That much, I still don't know. But I have sometimes thought that was as close to one as I'd ever come before or since.
All I knew then as I was backing out of her driveway was that it was already nearly fucking midnight and I was already pitying the last-call-for-alcohol bar skanks at whichever nightclub I was going to hit first about twenty minutes from then. I had a backed up load and I meant to unfuck myself for the night.
(damn, is this long enough for a submittable story)