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This is sweetly and humbly dedicated to my co-author, collaborator and partner in crime, the beautiful “funwithryleigh”, who was too shy to post this under her name, but can out-write me every day of the week. She is as smart as she is well-endowed, and I mean that in the “titular” way…
Waverly leaned back against the bar, looking at all of the people coming in. She wasn’t used to this. It made her uncomfortable. But, she had to try. She had to find a way back into society, back into dating.
She had broken up with her long-time boyfriend almost six months ago. Since then, she hadn’t even been curious to date again. At 21, she had been with a few guys, but still knew very little sexually. All she knew right now was that she wanted to be desired. She longed to learn from someone willing to teach her. She wanted to become a sexual goddess.
She sighed. That goal would take time, she decided.
Waverly looked around the room again. She felt her face flush as she considered approaching a group of men. One in the group was incredibly good looking.
Pushing her shoulder-length hair back behind one ear, she smiled as she watched. The men seemed to be having a great time and were already flirting with a few other women. She suddenly felt less than adequate.
Strawberry blonde hair, and dark brown eyes were ok. Attractive to some, she knew. Her large DD’s often caught men’s attention. But, she was also carrying a bit of extra weight on her tall frame. Some men liked a more womanly figure, but many liked the little sticks that seemed to be getting all the attention from those men.
She licked her full lips and turned back towards the bar. Maybe this was a bad idea.
Paul had noticed her from the moment she entered the bar. Paul never had any trouble attracting women, that was for sure, and he often had his pick of any one of a number of beautiful and willing women. He sometimes could not believe how brazen they were in their intentions. Tonight, for example, already one of the women that his friends and he had stated to flirt with had already less than subtly rubbed his crotch a few times, leering at him lustfully as she did so, licking her lips and tossing back her hair. That look alone was the universal sign a woman emits when she is non-verbally announcing “Fuck me!” But, Paul had to admit, the crotch rub made it the proverbial no-brainer.
Paul was one of the few fortunate men who was almost becoming bored at his conquests. At 37 now, he had been divorced for several years, and had since found the carnal environment out there virtually at his fingertips, like low-hanging fruit ready to be picked. He was dating one woman rather steadily right now, but she had intentions for something far more serious than Paul did, who was more interested in excitement than commitment. Marriage, oy! He nearly shuddered at the thought.
Paul had consciously tried to make an effort NOT to more blatantly ogle the extremely attractive young woman alone at the bar. What little he did know about the mysterious and fickle female mind he DID know that the less attraction you displayed to almost all women, the more intrigued they became. )(Why, the nerve, that handsome hunk is choosing HER over me..?) Paul chuckled in self-deprivation, one of his most endearing qualities. The less you chase, he was fond of saying, the wider they spread their legs. And, Paul now wanted a woman to tease, to control. He felt a stirring down below, but not from the occasional grope of his package from the now-intoxicated vixen who was using his cock as her personal squeeze toy, but from the voluptuous young woman alone at the bar, absent-mindedly twirling her hair as she continued to look his way.
Her tits were hard not to notice, he conceded. It was like that Seinfeld line when Jerry admonishes George, “You don’t stare at them. It’s like looking directly at the sun. You glance, then LOOK AWAY!”
No, it was more than that, much more cerebral, more than physical. If he had a type, you could probably look her picture up in the dictionary next to ‘Paul’s type’ and the composite picture was pretty close to what he was viewing. However, he prided himself on taking his cues from women much more than most men, and he reacted accordingly. His instincts about this one were right on. She was hot, she was lonely, she was horny, she wanted to be fucked. Hard. Long. Fast. Rough. She wanted, simply, to be a total and complete slut tonight for the right man. Bullseye, Paul thought, as he left his group and walked towards her, her face visibly flushing and her tush squirming on the stool as he approached.
Waverly had turned to watch the good looking guy across the way, and then was surprised to see him coming towards her. She quickly turned around, her back to him. He must have seen her staring at the group earlier. Her heart was beating a bit faster and she was trying to look calm, cool and collected as she tried to catch her breath.
When she turned pendik escort around again, he was almost standing next to her. She looked up at him, shyly, her eyes making contact, before a slow, uncertain smile settled onto her soft, painted lips.
“Caught ya staring,” he began, his eyes blazing into her own, taking emotional inventory. She looked vulnerable, he liked that. A lot. He liked young and big-titted and sexy and vulnerable. Also, better yet, she was even cuter up close. Freckles framed her nose and dotted her forehead, as well as her ample breasts, peeking from beneath her bra strap, straining from the pressure of her very sizable jugs.
“Wha..? I wasn’t…,” she stammered. “I was just…”
“No, it’s Ok, I liked it,” he grinned, his head nodding towards the Yankees game on the TV screen behind the bar, above where he had just been standing in the crowd. “I love a great looking woman who’s a baseball fan, too. You must be a huge fan.”
Waverly turned again and for the first time, noticed the TV. She hadn’t even realized it was there, much less turned to a baseball game. She smirked sheepishly, she had been had. Game on.
“You ARE a baseball fan, aren’t you?”, he questioned, his head tilting quizzically. “You must be, geez, I mean a hard piece of wood, trying to score, the hidden ball trick. How could anyone not love baseball? America’s pastime.”
Though Waverly was amused by his confidence and his banter, she was absolutely mesmerized by his sparkling green eyes. They bore into her sensually, piercing her eyes and searing deep into her mind. He had barely even said anything really provocative yet, and he didn’t have to. She wanted him to slide into home already, she was the third-base coach waving him in. Her eyes unconsciously lowered to his mouth, curling in a seductive grin. She didn’t even yet know his name, yet she sensed, hoped, that mouth was very soon going to end her 6-month self-imposed celibacy. She was right.
She snapped back into reality to hear him still talking. “‘Because, ya know, if you weren’t so into the game, I might’ve thought you were looking for another game. Me.”
Waverly still hadn’t said anything intelligible yet, so taken was she by his approach. She was still reeling and aroused and distracted. She focused a bit more on his mouth now as words continued to pour softly from his lips.
“See, if it WAS me that you had been staring at instead of Derek Jeter there,” he poked his head back at the TV, “You might have noticed that drunk blonde over there who couldn’t keep her hands off of the old lumber.”
Paul took Waverly’s hand and pulled it to his crotch. “Like this. Can you believe she would do that?”, he grimaced in mock disgust. “Doesn’t she know that I’m saving this for you to suck on tonight?”
Waverly looked up, surprised.
“I… uhhhh…she… well..”
She left her hand there for just a moment, then pulled it back, her face blushing a deep crimson.
“How do you know that is what I want to do?” she finally managed to say, looking up at him with obvious desire and completely flustered.
“What I want you to do…,” said Paul, mischievously, looking deep into Waverly’s eyes, dancing and twinkling with excitement, “..is whatever YOU want to do. Seduction is not making a person do what they do not want to. It is bringing that person to the places they truly desire to be.”
They gazed at each other for a few long moments, Paul’s words dangling in the air as if some cartoon bubble pop-up. Waverly realized the time had come, it was her move. If she was going to be that sexual goddess, she was never going to get an opportunity better than this in her young life. Paul stared at her, his lips slightly apart, waiting. Out of the corner of her eye, Waverly glanced down to see his cock twitching and straining beneath his zipper. “God it looks huge,” she thought.
She had always been a sub. Now, it was time to be a dom. This was Paul’s unspoken challenge to her, and she now understood. Perfectly.
Waverly bit her bottom lip for a moment as she thought about what to say or do next. She was so far out of her element. But, she didn’t want to miss this opportunity.
“I desire to be…” she started, and then took a breath. She felt like everything was hanging in the balance and she knew she had to get this right. Waverly cleared her throat and started again.
“I desire to be taught. Taught to be in control.” Her courage began to increase slightly. “To learn how to make you want to do my bidding. You are going to do as I ask, as I need, so that you can serve me. I will be your goddess.”
Paul took a discernible step backwards, both literally and figuratively. This wasn’t going exactly as he had planned. Well, he did have a plan, alright, to get in her thong, but it was the execution that was going awry. He stared blankly at the nubile nymph inches away, in front of him, and awkwardly stuck out his hand, mainly to buy time as he sorted out tuzla escort his thoughts. He couldn’t think with both the big head and the little head at the same time, and the little head always won these battles of the anatomy. “In males, they always do, they’re undefeated, those little heads of ours.” Paul thought. “Pricks.”
“Hi, I’m Paul.”
Waverly leaned back as well as Paul’s face softened into a little-boy-like grin. She felt her own face return to that crimson hue. “Waverly,” she purred demurely, extending her own neatly-manicured hand. “Nice to meet you, Paul.”
Paul grinned wider now and Waverly felt her heart race and her pussy moisten. “Waverly, darlin’, I have no interest in a battle of wits with you, you will crush me.” Waverly grinned at his candor and suddenly self-effacing manner. His arrogance was gone, and instead Waverly now found herself in the company of what seemed like a truly nice guy. Who was still smokin’ hot.
“Besides I’m much better when I’m not talking.” Paul hesitated for just a split second before continuing what would be the proverbial punch line of their conversation, taking one last emotional inventory of their banter thus far. It was crystal clear there were sexual sparks flying, that much was for certain. He was horny, and she was, too. “So, Waverly, what I mean is, well……..wanna fuck me? You can do whatever you want, use my cock for your pleasure.”
Waverly gasped at the forwardness, but she had to admit she liked it.
She shook her head yes and then realized that she hadn’t spoken yet. She tried to find her voice.
“Umm, yes, I would like that.” Her face was flushed as she thought about what she was saying. But, the images of all that they could do together gave her courage.
“Take me home, to yours. I’m ready to use you for my satisfaction.” She smiled up at him.
Waverly gathered her purse from the bar and as she did so, Paul could see the outlines of a pink thong peeking from out beneath her flowered sun dress. It was really the first time his eyes strayed from anywhere except her gorgeous face and captivating eyes, and let we forget, those ample tits. (Freckle tits.)
They walked arm and arm from the bar, and out of the corner of his eye, Paul noticed the blonde that had been so openly groping at his jewels for most of the night, who eyed them enviously they departed. Young and a willing sex goddess is a much better option than bleach-blonde and drunk, he decided.
When they reached their respective cars, Waverly turned to Paul and tossed him her car keys. “I won’t be needing these until sometime tomorrow, hopefully. Would you mind driving?”
Paul grinned as he nimbly caught her key ring. “Why?”‘ he asked. “Will you be staying the night?”
“Yes”, Waverly answered. “Now get in and shut up if you want that impressive cock of yours sucked right. Do you understand? Drive home and don’t talk. I like you better when you don’t. Just shut up.”
It was all she could do to not smile or look up at him, wide-eyed, waiting for his response. It wasn’t something that she was used to, but she had to admit she liked it. A lot.
Once she was in the car, she spoke very little herself. Instead, she began to give him a show. Sliding her dress up to her waist, she slipped her hand down the front of her panties. She was already very wet and ready for some satisfaction.
Allowing her fingers to roam over her clit and then down between her swelling lips, through the folds to her entrance, she moaned and rubbed. Once she knew that her fingers were coated with her own juices, she stopped and slipped her hand back out.
Moving so that she was very close to him, she looked up at Paul.
“Clean these for me as you drive,” she said, putting her glistening fingers to his mouth. With her other hand, she began playing with her nipples, making them pucker even more and push against the lightweight fabric.
At this point, Paul could have used the hands-free device to guide the steering wheel. His cock, that is, such was his arousal at this unexpected vixen now sitting next to him. It wasn’t at all what he had expected even ten minutes ago. He wasn’t used to a woman taking control like this, this young, innocent-looking, wide-eyed doe putting her juices into his mouth as she caressed her own body. But, goddamn, he was as turned on now as he had ever been. She tasted incredibly sweet and fresh, like nectars of fruit on a vine, combined with her intoxicating perfume. He sucked hungrily on her digits and leered at her exposed cunt and tits.
Her scent of sex now filled the car. He reached over to touch her thigh above the exposed hemline, but she reached his hand before he could do so.
Waverly pulled her dress down and her top up. “Don’t you fucking touch me unless you’re instructed!” she wailed. “What fucking part of this don’t you understand?” Paul’s hand retreated sheepishly, but his cock grew even harder, if possible. It almost burst at the seams of kartal escort his crotch.
She glanced over to his pants and smiled. He seemed to be liking it. Her heart was racing. She had never done anything like this before, but it was thrilling and excited her.
It seemed to take forever to get to his place, but once they arrived and pulled into the garage, she turned and looked at him.
“You have 20 minutes to make me cum, screaming your name and making me beg for more. At the end of that time, if you haven’t pleasured me, you will be punished. And, you will have to wait much longer for your own pleasure. If I even allow it.”
She looked at her watch and smiled.
“Time is slipping away. You better be good.”
Paul sat in the car for a moment, watching Waverly’s hips sashay beneath her dress as she walked towards his door. For perhaps the first time since he lost his virginity, maybe twenty-some years ago, Paul felt nervous, lacking control in a sexual situation. Usually his glib chatter and natural good looks could induce a woman to follow along with his every demand or request. But, this one, this Waverly, boyohboy, she was different. Who would have imagined that this shy, beautiful doe sitting demurely in the bar just a half-hour ago had already given him a blatantly sexual exhibition show while asserting her own demands.
Paul’s big head told him he wasn’t sure if he liked this. However, the little head, the deciding vote on all male tie-breakers, told him otherwise. The precocious fella was twitching and nodding in enthusiastic affirmation beneath Paul’s trousers.
“Geez,” Paul mused, almost panicked, “I like to take my time and tease, that’s part of my gig. Twenty minutes to get her off?” He was snapped back to reality by Waverly’s call.
“Hey, Casanova, what’s the matter? Are you coming? Because I need to. You have 19 minutes, Romeo.” She lifted the hem of her skirt above the belly button and pulled of her thong and tossed it into Paul’s garage wantonly, showing her beautiful prize.
Waverly was amazed by the power she felt. She kept waiting for him to say no or to do something that would indicate that he wouldn’t follow the fantasy.
She opened the door and walked in, looking around. Nice enough. She began exploring until she found the large leather couch. She sat down on it, panty-less, knowing she would be leaving a huge wet spot when she stood.
Finally, she heard him and looked up. She spread her legs and leaned back.
“Please me. You have 17 and a half minutes left. Don’t disappoint me. Please.”
The please was not a plead, but rather, a threat. It was an unsaid threat that he would not like it if she wasn’t screaming out in ecstasy soon.
Neither could ever have known what the other was experiencing, but the sight of this beautiful young woman exploring a blatant, wanton side of her sexuality amazed Paul as well. He was as turned on as he could ever remember, as he gazed at this gorgeous creature, transfixed on her glistening, exposed pussy now, and he acted without thinking, like a predator finding the teasing, quicker prey.
With one swift motion, so sudden it startled Waverly enough so that her hand drifted from her wet love nest, Paul ripped down his pants and exposed his throbbing manhood, and Waverly unconsciously gasped at the girth in the fleeting second she had time to view it before it entered her deeply.
Paul literally ran with his pants bundled around his knees and lifted Waverly’s legs over his broad shoulders, grabbing her ankles firmly and pulling her legs far apart, her dress hiking up over her belly button, exposing her completely, and thrust roughly into Waverly’s cunt, filling her to the hilt as she had never felt, and he pumped his large thick cock into the young vixen’s sopping snatch, repeatedly, in a primal lust that bordered on sexual rage. Paul’s cock snapped deep into Waverly’s hole, hitting her cervix, something Waverly cold not yet understand, but she knew it sent sensations erupting from deep within her. She screamed……
“Now…that….is….what….I’m……talking…..about….mmmm,” she said, each word accented with a deep thrust from Paul.
She felt him reaching something that had not been explored before and her breathing grew more labored as she tried to look nonchalant. As she bit her bottom lip, trying to contain another moan, she realized that he was going to make it within the time limit. Or, at least get pretty damn close.
Her hand snaked down between her legs and she began frigging her clit, eager to add to the sensations. Her other hand found a breast and squeezed the nipple. She tugged and twisted it, moaning again.
“You….are….hitting….something……wonder…..fullll….” she panted up to him, her eyes sometimes focused on him, and other times closed, just enjoying the moment.
Waverly didn’t realize it at the time, but the new, wonderful sensation that she was feeling from deep within her folds was Paul’s long cock pounding repeatedly on her cervix. No man before had ever explored Waverly’s tender young cunt in this way, and her body was having a VERY pleasurable reaction. That was an understatement.
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