By Don Winslow
It's late August. Endless summer nights. Hot, sweltering nights. And only one thing's on my mind: Men! Men, men, men. It's driving me crazy! Men watching me: thick bulges pressing urgently against the front of their pants, their eyes following me with that haunted look of rutting lust; raw, animal lust. Men wanting me; wanting to get into my pants, wanting to fuck me!
It's the heat; the simmering restlessness that makes me so fluttery, keeps me always on edge. The apartment's closing in on me. I need to get out. A powerful surge of randiness ripples through me, forcing me to touch myself, to hold and squeeze my desperately aching pussy. The creamy rise of pleasure leaves me shaken.
I snatch up the light-weight cotton print, wiggle into it, let it slither down my sweating nakedness, struggle with the zipper in back. Then tug the dress into place, and quickly slip bare feet into a pair of waiting sandals. In the mirror, I pause to study my reflection, smoothening the body-hugging dress, cupping my plump little breasts, giving them an extra boost, before running my hands down my body to even the dress over the flare of my hips. Narrow straps loop my shoulders leaving arms, chest, and the tops of my naked tits, all deliciously bare. My nipples are already semi-erect; you can just make them out, twin peaks poking back against the press of thin fabric -- peeking out, expectant. Frisky nipples, coming out to play. I turn to look over my shoulder at my ass. 'Nice ass, baby' I compliment myself, give a pert wiggle, tug down on the back of the dress.
I'm feeling randy; wildly wicked, and so excited that I have to work to control my shaking hands when I go for my lipstick -- bright, glossy red. Curling my painted lips, I press them together, and give the mirror the briefest of smiles. I study my hair. Needs some repair work. Capturing a few loose strands between my fingers, I reach up with the other hand to find the plastic clip. Then decide: the hell with the clip! I tear it free. A quick toss of my head shakes loose my long blond hair, sending it tumbling down past my shoulders. I fluff up my bangs with my fingers, then run them through my hair, imagining a guy doing it: knowing how he'd like the feel of my heavy, silky hair slipping through his fingers. Then I give myself a final, big smile, and turn to go out into the heat of the night.
It's an incredible turn on for me...to stroll along crowded Cataluna Avenue in my high heeled sandals, tall "fuck me" shoes, always aware that I'm totally naked under the thin dress; all the while pretending not to notice the stares of guys who watch me with sexual hunger in their eyes. A bitch in heat. Do they know it? Do they know I'm not wearing underwear? I smile to myself. Men! They can't help themselves.
I know their cocks are swelling up as their longing eyes caress my long blond hair; my perky breasts; and my cute little butt in that tight dress. They'd just love to know what I look like under my dress, the short, sexy dress that barely covers my bottom, exposes my bare legs from my toes almost to the top of my thighs.
They stare at my tits and wonder what they look like; strain to see my excited nipples, my tingling, rock hard nipples. Their cocks stiffen, as their longing eyes follow me. They would love to see me naked; imagine what I'd look like, imagine doing things to me, all kinds of things. Like fucking my tits, or forcing me to my knees to make me suck them off, sucking on their big, stiff cocks. I service them all, lots of men. Throbbing pricks fire off, all at once, shooting gobs of cum all over my lips and chin, splattering my face and even my hair with thick ropy strands of their cream, while I wallow at their feet. Sex, sex, sex; down and dirty sex. My womb jumps; quivers at the delicious thought. A shudder of lust surges through me.
I need a man! A big strong man, fucking me...hard while I lay on my back, legs waving in the air. He clamps my ankles, opens me up, holds my legs splayed wide apart, while he pounds into me with teeth jarring fury, his cock driving into my cunt like a well oiled piston, hard, deep, relentless, in and out. It just goes on and on. Or taking me from behind, on my hands and knees, a bitch in heat, grabbing my ass and holding on while he slips his cock into me, and rams it deep into my dripping cunt, pounding his hips against my jutting ass, and all the while I'm moaning and squirming and tossing my head, wildly flinging my long hair around while he fucks me from behind, fucks me, fucks meee.
His name was Nick. She decided she liked that name. He looked like a Nick. At first he held her loosely, his arms half bent as if uncertain just what to do with the slim blonde in the tight dress who came on so strong, walking right up to where he sat alone, nursing his drink at the corner table, smiling at him; saying one word: "Dance?". Cara sensed the tentativeness in the way he held her; couldn't help smiling as, when he held her away from him, his gaze inevitably fell down her chest, obviously drawn by her unrestrained breasts, frisky, cuddly tits that threatened to spill over her low-cut dress whenever she bent forward. She felt a ripple of pleasure, wiggled, smiling her approval to let him know it was okay; only too pleased to give him an eyeful. He smiled back, immensely grateful. Linking her hands behind his neck, she edged closer bringing their swaying bodies into that first exciting contact.
Inmediately, he surged forward, gathering her in; she responded, tightening her own arms around him, hungry for the solid feel of his lean, tall, masculine body. Cara, relishing the full-body contact, now could feel the unmistakable hardness pressing into her -- his erection, his manhood, his cock, his prick, stiff with arousal, and digging into her belly with sudden urgency. He's hard! The thought thrilled her to the core; left a tingling in her groin! With eyes closed in dreamy reverie, cheek resting comfortably on his shoulder, the girl let her lips curl in a knowing grin.
To Nick it was all so unbelievable! He pulled his hips back, as if having been burned; the girl instantly followed his half-hearted retreat, moving in, in no uncertain terms. Then she was on him again, even more forcefully now, squirming her hips, rubbing against the tented front of his jeans, getting the full feel of that raging hard-on. Drunk with passion, the couple swayed back and forth in time to the music.
While she snuggled into the crook of his neck, and pressed her hips to him, Nick's eyes widened. The realization struck him like a bolt of electricity -- he had a tiger on his hands! He could feel the woman's lusty body, her sensual need; her burning breasts drilling into his chest through their clothes -- soft and warm and excruciatingly lovely. He also was sure he could feel her nipples: semi-erect and stiffening with desire and poking into his chest like small, hard berries.
One hand came up to her neck and he buried his clawed fingers in her soft blond hair, while the other hand pressed her lower back to him, till they fitted together, melded in full-body contact. He buried his nose in her silken hair, drinking in the intoxicating smell of her perfume. He kissed her hair. Now his hands were surer, moving with greater confidence, caressing her, massaging the small of her back and higher up, eagerly exploring, feeling her hot body through the thin dress she wore. His touch told him what he suspected -- the girl was bra-less; no elastic strap broke the smooth, sleek taper.
Cara felt his hands following the lines of her back, dipping down, lower, till he held her by the hips she squirmed provocatively against him, relishing the feel of his hardened penis grinding into her.
"Mmmm" she hummed contentedly, purring with pleasure, like a big cat. "You feel soooo good," she murmured in his ear, giving him a big joyful squeeze.
The sexy words brought a searing jolt of lust powering through the boy, energizing his already painfully stiff hardon into an intolerable throbbing aching thing.
His roaming hands had now slid down her lower back; as if to urge him further on, she dropped her own hands down to boldly grab his blue-jeaned butt. The gesture was not lost on Nick who immediately responded, opening his fingers to fill his hands with two greedy handfuls of Cara's soft malleable bottom kneading those fleshy mounds through the slippery dress she wore. For a moment they stood there swaying, oblivious to everything else, bodies pressed close together,
It was Cara who moved first, pulling back to lift her face to his, opening her mouth, offering her lips. The kiss was long and soulful, as she sucked his bottom lip between hers, and sent her tongue squirming into his opened mouth.
He kissed her again, more firmly now, while his left hand cradled the back of her head, his fingers clutching her hair as he drew her in more forcefully. Her tongue once again slipped into his mouth, and this time he reciprocated, thrusting his tongue in to meet hers in a lively dance. Both his hands were on the sides of her head holding her steady for his deepening kisses.
The lovers broke apart, panting heavily, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
"You know Nicky, I have a confession to make," she began, her lips just inches from his ear. Nick stiffened at her words, suddenly suspicious, he knew this was too good to be true! He waited, scarcely daring to breathe.
He felt her hot breath on his ear as her hoarse whisper turned low and sultry, sending a shiver through him.
"When I got dressed tonight,... I was in such a hurry, I forgot my bra." She let that sink in as they swayed to and fro. "And you know what else I forgot?' She abruptly pushed back, smiling up at him, while she sent one of her hands slithering down between their tightly-pressed bodies. The delving hand closed on his rock-hard prick, and she gave him a meaningful squeeze through his jeans.
"I forgot my panties."