This activity is the culmination of years of work-related stress, home-related stress, boredom, sexual frustration and a feeling of impending doom. The doors are closing and the light is fading. I don't know what I'm looking for but I'll know when I find it.
I find the men on the internet. The internet is crawling with horny men of all shapes and sizes. They frequent illicit dating sites, erotica sites, internet magazine ads and chat rooms. The abundance of horny men is mind-boggling. The women are somewhat rarer and more circumspect.
To find a prospect I simply have to put out a line with bait out. They come to me. The bait is very simple. A description. Maybe a photo of a torso. I insist on seeing pictures of them and make them talk about themselves. I don't use any real names or real email addresses. We meet in public places but I know I'm taking risks. The risks are part of the attraction of this activity.
I categorize the men into groups:
1. Unattractive and nothing like their photos (most of them)
2. Attractive but crazy
3. Attractive but boring
4. Alpha males who are attractive and not boring, but have no sense of humor
5. Prospects
There are very few prospects. Some of the prospects seem like really nice guys. Usually when I meet them they are no longer attractive. Sometimes I make out with them, have a little orgasm that they may or may not notice, and send them away frustrated. Some of the prospects seem a little bit scary. Those are the ones I am waiting for.
Most of the men tell me I am “cute” when they meet me. That is the word that has followed me my whole life. I hate that word. I've rarely been pretty, never beautiful. However, if they say “cute and sexy” they have a chance. I think I am “cute” because I am a little shorter than average. I have a nice smile and perky tits. Girls with long legs and big tits are rarely “cute” I think. Despite the height disadvantage, I have a graceful appearance now because I work out regularly. My arms are toned, my legs are shapely, and my stomach is pretty flat.
I'm worried that this latest prospect may be an Alpha male with no sense of humor. Well, maybe a little bit of a sense of humor. He told me not to worry- he was into midgets. There he is at the bar at the back of the restaurant.
The Alpha male looks better than his picture. He has blue eyes, long legs, big hands and an excess of confidence. I never approached guys like this in college. However, I look better now than I did in college, relative to the rest of the available population at least.
I sit next to him. I hate barstools because the foot props are always too low and they make me feel like a child. He seems amused by my discomfiture. He probably thinks I'm “cute”.
He asks me what I'd like to drink. I order a single malt whisky, neat. Cute girls rarely order whisky, I've discovered. He is wearing a very sharp suit and putting out a lot of heat. I can feel it sitting next to him. He's like a big radiator. I'm always cold. I visualize myself naked in a sleeping bag with him, outside at a campsite, putting my feet under his armpits. The image makes me smile and when I come back from it he's looking right into my eyes smiling back at me.
“What's so funny?” he says.
“Do you mind cold feet?” I reply.
“Yes,” he says. “You're not going anywhere yet. I won't let you.”
“No, that's not what I meant.” I have to smile again.
We end up at a booth in the corner. He is really giving me the seduction stare. I can tell when guys do this. They do it very consciously. Usually it doesn't work. It's working this time. I love his eyes. They are a deep color and have long dark lashes. He's also rubbing his fingers over the back of my hand as he talks. They are large, warm and a little rough. I know the backs of my hands feel like silk to him. I know he's thinking about the rest of my skin. I can tell his eyes are skimming across the skin on my neck, my shoulders, below my ear, over my breasts. He's rubbing his eyes where he really wants to rub his hands. It's turning me on.
We go for a walk on the crowded sidewalk. I let him put his arm around my waist. I'm still bathing in his body heat. The sun is still up as the early spring days are getting longer. I took the subway there, but he has offered to drive me part way back so I don't have to take it so far. I won't let him drive me home. None of these men will know where I live.
I know it's a risk, but I get into his car. It's large and comfortable with plush black leather seats. He tells me his company leases these for executives when they travel. He travels here frequently. We drive a few stops closer to home. He's still rubbing his fingers over the back of my hand, which is resting on my leg, as we drive. The parking lot seems isolated. I've taken this stop home before, so I'm not worried. This wasn't bad. Maybe we'll make another date and I can let him take me out to dinner. I wonder if he'll kiss me good night. He opens the front passenger door and gives me a hand out.
Whoosh, I'm pinned against the the side of the car. One of his hands is on my waist, the other is at the back of my head, holding me in place as he plants his lips on mine. Oh, that is nice. Big, soft, soft lips and so warm, so warm. I'm always cold, you know. He's bending down and his body is lending me more of his warmth. The lips are rubbing across mine now. He's running the tip of his tongue across the juncture of my lips, back and forth, back and forth until I sigh and let him in. His big warm tongue is exploring my mouth and chasing my tongue. I'm sliding, sliding mine against his. It feels so intimate. I start to suck on his tongue a bit. His hand that was on my waist has reached around to open his back door and I'm steered around and pushed down into the big leather seat in the back. It's just like a cop taking down a felon but he follows me in.
We're in the back seat making out like teenagers. The big, warm hands are all over me, working very quickly while my attention is occupied with those soft lips. Unbuttoning my blouse, over my bra, under my skirt, over my legs and finally dipping under over my ass making circles round and round then up under my shirt against the bare skin of my back. Slightly rough but very, very warm.
I fade out of the moment and time stands still, but I'm breathing harder and I think we've been doing this for quite a while.