Mickey quickly buttoned up his pants as I pulled down my short brown skirt. “My God, you felt so good,” he said quietly.
“I wish I won bets more often,” I said, straightening my clothes out with a huge smile on my face. I was on cloud nine, knowing I would remember that night for years to come.
And it was indeed years to come. Though we kept in touch and saw each other occasionally, it wasn’t until eight years later that Mickey and I got together again, when the two of us and some other old acquaintances spent the day with a mutual friend who was in town for a visit.
The day we spent together was really fun. We all joked and laughed about old times, and eventually the topic of our “boulevard bet” came up. We spoke of it casually at first, but then I looked over and noticed Mickey watching me intently. “You know, I really enjoyed that night,” he said finally, his gaze not quite meeting mine.
My heart raced. But that had happened such a long time ago, I figured, and I didn’t have any reason to think that it would ever happen again. But that night I just couldn’t think of anything else. I was so incredibly horny that I even got off on my pillow—twice. Even that didn’t help, though. I wanted him again, and I thought that he wanted me, too. The next day I finally gave in and called him. I knew he was out on a camping trip with some of his friends that day, but I eventually managed to reach him on his cell phone.
“I was hoping you would call me,” he told me quietly. “You’ll never believe it. The guys and I have a bet going.”
“Oh, no, not another bet,” I laughed. “What’s it about this time?”
“The guys said you’d call me and want to get together again. If we do, then I lose and I have to fetch beer for them for the next twenty-four hours.”
“Well, I guess we probably shouldn’t get together then,” I said, teasing him as well as myself.
“Oh, but that’s okay with me, because I win either way!” Mickey said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“If we don’t, they have to get me a beer any time I want one,” he explained. “But if we do, then I get to spend the night with you, and I really win!”
It was obvious to me that was what he genuinely wanted, and I had a really good feeling about it. He invited me to come out and meet him at the campsite.
When I got to the campground we took a walk around. It was dark and quiet, though there were still a few people around. We went down to the river hand in hand. The air was warm and the water was extremely cold. We waded in a little way, and then Mickey grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up onto a large rock. It was the perfect spot, and I suspected he had scoped it out well ahead of time.
He pulled my sweatpants off. As he set them down beside me, one of the legs fell into the water. He pulled it out and touched it to my left breast through my sweatshirt, which sent shivers down my spine and made my nipples stiffen and swell. We kissed, gently at first, and then gradually harder and more intensely. I was getting moister by the minute—and not from the water! My pussy actually felt hot, and the touch of his fingers on it intensified the sensation. I reached down to grab his bulging cock. I had forgotten how big and perfect it was. I had dreamed about this very moment so often and for so long—ever since that encounter years earlier—that I couldn’t wait to have him inside me again.
It was starting to rain slightly. I took off my sweatshirt and Mickey began sucking on my nipples. He kept teasing them with his tongue and with his cold, wet hands, then nibbled at them tenderly as I ran my fingers along the length of his hard penis. I noticed a small amount of pre-come on the tip and bent down to lick it off. His head went back in ecstasy. I can’t begin to describe how sweet-tasting he was!
My passion was intensifying until it became almost unbearable. I lay back down on the rock as Mickey stood in the river. He pulled my legs up to his shoulders and put his cock deep inside me, steadying himself with his hands on my ass. That triggered an instant orgasm, which had me moaning and gasping for air.
It began to rain harder by then, and lightning flashed and thunder clapped in the distance. The storm was moving closer, which only increased the intensity of our lovemaking. Mickey pumped his cock in and out of me, faster and faster, and the feeling of the hard rock against my back and the cold, fresh air hitting my face and breasts only added to my pleasure.
Mickey stood between my legs and continued pushing himself into my cunt. The droplets of rain mixed with the sweat he was working up as he fucked me, grabbing his cock and pulling out until only the thick, round head was still lodged inside me. The faster he fucked me the closer I got to having another orgasm, and the closer I got to coming again the more loudly I started to moan.
By that time Mickey was moaning, too, and his face showed his total satisfaction. I couldn’t hold back any longer and let go, coming again and again, until finally he pulled out, had his orgasm and squirted a huge load all over my heaving stomach.
The lightning was getting a little too close for comfort by then, so we ran up the riverbank and got into the tent for shelter. My hair was dripping wet and I knew I looked a mess, but it didn’t matter. We dried off and got together for at least three more hours of intense probing, licking and fucking. It was another memorable night. And for all I know, that memory might have to keep me entertained for another eight years—unless I can come up with another good bet. It’s a good thing I like to gamble!—
Name and address withheld
HE PICKED HER UP IN A BAR AND FOUND THAT SHE LIKED IT QUICK, NASTY AND PUBLIC
One Saturday night I was driving around aimlessly, and finally ended up at a club called Diamond Jim’s. I decided to check it out, thinking it was a titty bar which, the bartender later told me it had been a few years before.
I went in and sat at the bar. About three drinks later a woman walked in who immediately stoked my fire. She was a Latin-looking lady with long black hair, a short black skirt and matching high-heeled shoes. She sat at a table halfway across the room, her slender body turned a little bit toward the bar.
I got a feeling she wanted company, and following my instinct I got up and approached her. With her permission, I sat down at her table and we made small talk. She told me her name was Elena. I told her I was single, and she said she was legally separated. She told me she usually went to bed early, but had come to the bar that night because she couldn’t get to sleep. She was visiting a friend who, like me, lived on the other side of town.
When I asked her what she liked to do she gave me a sly grin and replied, “Do you mean what would I like to do right now?”
I didn’t take this bait, explaining that I was asking about her hobbies and so forth. I don’t remember what she said they were. A few minutes later she broke off the conversation by looking me in the eye and asking, “Can I be blunt with you for a second?”
I said she could, then braced myself. She paused and then said, “I want to know why you sat with me.”
“Because I find you attractive,” I replied.
“Do you think I’m attractive because I’m wearing a short skirt?” she inquired.
“No,” I said. “I just think you’re cute. You’re a very pretty woman.”
“Hmmm,” she responded with a gleam in her eyes. Then she said, “Would you like to go outside with me and fuck?”
Of course my instinct was to say yes immediately, but I hesitated. I couldn’t believe I was so lucky, but Elena assured me that there were no strings attached. We left the bar right then.
Outside, we walked to a dark corner behind the building, but we were still visible from the adjacent street and from any vehicles leaving the parking lot. I suggested we go somewhere more private, but Elena said, “No. Right here is fine,” adding that our visibility turned her on. “Let’s see what you have,” she murmured. “Do you think you can satisfy me?”
As I pulled out my dick she made a sound of approval. I lifted her skirt and was thrilled—but not too surprised—to see that she wasn’t wearing panties. I tried to enter her but wasn’t quite ready. I explained that I needed some foreplay to get things going.
I usually like a lot of foreplay, including sexual teasing. I also like a lot of sexy talk, hugging, kissing and stroking when I have sex. As I see it, a sexual encounter is to be savored, not rushed. But that wasn’t the time or place for a marathon fuck, and Elena seemed like she was only interested in the basics, anyway. She bent down and sucked my dick until it was up and ready. When I was more relaxed, I turned her around and nailed her from the rear.
While fucking her, I stroked her hair and every inch of her body. Her hot pussy engulfed my dick as her mouth had a few minutes before. I moved faster, squeezing her ass and watching her sweet pussy lips gripping my cock as it moved in and out of her.
I whispered in her ear, “You’re so damn sexy. Your pussy feels so good. So nice and tight.”
Aside from everything else she had going for her, Elena was very vocal. “Yes, fuck me,” she panted. “I’m so wet. I want to feel you come inside me. I love the way it feels. It’s all warm and sticky. Oooh, fuck me!”
That I did until I came. Her pussy full of come, she said, “Yes, now I can get to sleep.”
We walked back to the bar entrance. She asked whether I wanted to go back inside with her, but I declined. We’d both gotten what we came for, so we exchanged good-byes.
I stood alone in the parking lot for a minute, and then I reconsidered and went back inside and took a look for her. I was thinking with my dick, wondering if there might not be an opportunity for an intense sexual relationship there. But when I looked around the bar, she was nowhere in sight. I assumed she’d already gone home to sleep.
Since that encounter, I’ve imagined us meeting again by chance, but it hasn’t happened. I’ve imagined her fantasizing about our encounter, playing with her pussy while replaying the scene in her head. I’ve imagined her masturbating later that morning, and then licking our come from her fingertips.
I wonder if Elena had public sex before, or whether she’s had it since, or whether it’s something that she does all the time. I wonder if she’s told anybody about our encounter. And I wonder if she’ll ever read this letter.—
R.F., Chillicothe, Ohio
ONCE THEY DECIDED TO GO BEYOND FRIENDSHIP, THEY REALLY WENT ALL THE WAY
I’d been after Minnie for years—sort of. It had become something of a joke between us, and I think we lost track of whether or not we were serious about it a long time ago. We’re both happily married, and we have been for years. There’s never been any joking around about us running away together or anything. Everything basically started because we talked together a lot about this and that, and we finally came to the conclusion that we were probably the last two people in the world who would ever cheat on our spouses.
“We’re just too boring,” I remember saying to Minnie once. “But if you ever decide to do it, promise you’ll cheat with me.” She promised she would, and we both laughed. That’s how it all started. I guess we had to establish that we were safe from that kind of thing before we could really begin to discuss our deepest feelings together. Minnie always confided in me when she was getting fed up with her husband A1, and I would go to her if I was having trouble with my wife Anne. We’d blow off a little steam, complain about our spouses for a while and then we’d both go home and make up with them.
Before we parted, though, we always made our standard running joke about how we ought to go to bed with each other and just get it over with once and for all. “If I were as compatible with A1 as I am with you,” Minnie once told me, “we wouldn’t have these little discussions.”
I understood how she felt. I love my wife dearly, but once in a while I wondered how things might have been different if we had never gotten married. But then my boring side came back to the surface, and I realized that it was very important to me to be faithful to my wife, who I love very deeply.
Even so, my discussions with Minnie became more graphic as the years went on. We talked often about what we’d do together if we finally gave in to our wilder impulses and had that affair. Don’t be fooled by my saying we’ve been talking like this for years. We’re not a couple of elderly frumps. At thirty-eight, Minnie is sexier than most girls in their early twenties. Her tits are very full, and the fact that they’re not riding quite as high as they once did makes them that much more voluptuous. They’re like fruit that’s almost too juicy to eat, but you know you have to finish it once you’ve started.
That’s how Minnie finally turned out to be, just like wonderfully ripe fruit. The two of us had resisted the temptation to have sex with each other for a long time, but at last she was bursting with juice. And once I had that juice running down my chin, I had to keep swallowing until I’d had it all.
One day we were talking, as we had so many times before, about her problems with her husband. It sounded to me as if they had reached that point that all married couples seem to get to, where they were hardly having sex at all, and when they finally did have sex it was more out of obligation than because they wanted to. Millie looked me square in the eye and claimed that she hadn’t had an orgasm in six months she hadn’t given herself with her own fingers.
“Even so,” I told her, kidding around as usual (or so I thought) “I’d like to see that for myself. That may not be the way you like to get an orgasm, but it would sure do the trick for me. Actually,” I continued, not really thinking about what I was saying, “you should just let me do it. It wouldn’t be cheating if you just let me rub you a little. You don’t think you’re cheating when you rub yourself. What’s the difference? It’s only cheating if we fuck.”
Like I said, I was basically joking, but I could tell from the look on Minnie’s face that she was seriously weighing what I’d just said. “I don’t know if that would hold up in court,” she finally said with a bit of a laugh. “But I’ll tell you this: I’m so desperate to get off with someone else that I could almost think about it.”