A blind date? Was she serious? I hate that sort of thing, and I knew when my best friend arranged it, something wild was about to happen. I wanted to share what happened recently. Enjoy.
“He’s hot, and you’ll have fun. I promise. Plus, I know for certain that he hasn’t dated anyone in over a year. Does that make him a born-again virgin?”
Something inside of me churned at the thought of this man. He had to be a one-eyed monster or live in his mother’s basement eating tv dinners. No man in his right mind doesn’t date for a year. I will never forgive my best friend if that’s the case. She’s sent me on a few dates over the years that I wish never happened. More than a few actually. Would 5 be the magic number? The one who sweeps me off my feet? All I really wanted was a good fuck when I told her I would go, but she insisted in a real date first.
Would this be a blind date from hell?
Arranging to meet “William” at a local eatery, I thought meeting in public would be better. Plus, arranging my own transportation meant that if I needed to leave, I could. I dressed in a simple red dress, it’s before memorial, so the darker hues are acceptable. Short, tight, but classy, the silk fabric clung to my body like a second skin. That wasn’t the look I wanted, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the mirror. With the addiction of a pair of strappy red heels, I finished the look off with a smear of my favorite red lipstick. Yes, this is what they imagined when the song “Lady in red” was written.
All I knew about William was that he stood 6 ft 4 and had the body of an athlete. I guess that could mean anything, honestly. Anywhere from a track star to a wrestler, though the latter is preferred. I like my men a little on the larger side. No, not chubby, just built well. I was told he is a brunette. That’s a plus for me. I don’t like blonde men. All of them seem like an overrated Ken doll. Shallow and boring. I’ve never been one to play with dolls. Not even as a small child.
I took one last look at my reflection in the restaurant’s front bay window. My hands move slowly down the front of my dress to smooth out the small imperfections. Most of the time I wouldn’t worry, but first impressions are important. Leaning into the window, my finger moved across my lips slowly. I hope no one is paying attention on the other side. I hadn’t thought of that until I heard a slight tap on the pane. Smiling, I leaned back, shaking off the embarrassing moment. Clutching my purse tighter under my arm, I thanked the older couple who opened the door for me.
“How many?”
The server stood at a little podium, smack, popped, and flipped a huge wad of gum in her mouth. Bubblilicious brand. The familiar scent was overwhelming.
“I’m meeting someone. His name is William.’”
It was at that moment that I realized that the tap on the window was from my date. Looking up from a drink menu, the blue-eyed beast stood the minute he heard his name. To say I was mortified was an understatement.
“Never mind, I see him.”
The closer I came to the man, the more intimidated I was. I’m not an overly short woman, but even with the 4-inch heels I wore, I felt as though he towered over me. Oh, and his body had a few extra pounds on him. A little hint of warmth between my legs was a dead giveaway to my body’s approval. I had to dig my nails into the palm of my hand to remind me this was a first date.
“The lipstick looks perfect. I approve of that shade of red.”
His words came with laughter. Not a chuckle, but a deep barrel laugh. He stood at the edge of the table, waiting to be the second one seated. Only sitting when his guest was comfortable in her seat.
I was at a loss for words. It would take every bit of my control not to burp out a series of laughs. One major fault of mine is to laugh at all the wrong moments. Who knew that would be the cherry on the top of this night?
“Thank you. You must me William? I’m Gypsy, nice to meet you?”
He nodded, watching me like a lion ready to pounce a helpless lamb. Dinner went by with a few laughs over perfectly chilled wine, and a steak that melted in my mouth. I don’t remember a time when I had this much fun on a date. For the first time I didn’t regret coming out tonight.
I don’t know how I ended up in a hotel room with a stranger. Maybe it was the wine? Yes, it had to be the two bottles of wine that he insisted on us finishing. In the blink of an eye, I found myself laying back on the king-sized bed with my legs spread. This man had his tongue up my cunt so deep he was in the pit of my stomach. I’ve never been involved in a one-night stand, but this might be worth that walk of shame. Juices dripping down the crack of my ass.
“Oh, fuck, you dirty son of a bitch. Eat that pussy.”
My voice bounced from wall to wall, the echo of a dirty whore playing into my ears. At one point I thought I heard banging on the wall, but that could be the bed slamming against the wall. God knows I deserve an applause from that scene. Shoving 3 fingers deep into the honey pot, he pounded with a force that bruised my walls. The sheets ripping from the force of my fingers. I don’t even care that the cheap hotel mattress now has my nail marks forever forged into the fabric. The room is not in my name, so whatever damage done can rest on Williams shoulders. If he wasn’t so good at eating pussy, things like this wouldn’t happen.
“Cum for me, bitch. Squirt that shit all over my face.”
The moment that William asked, I delivered. Pulling his hand from my pussy, the volcano erupted. Fluids poured all over his face, his tongue lashing back and forth like a windshield wiper. I’ve never come with such an intense force that I blacked out, but this time, I lost all consciousness. In less than 10 seconds I received the shock of my life.
“Tell me you want this dick, slut!”
William leaned back on the bed, his hand jerking what had to be a 10-inch cock. The head swollen, the veins protruding, and he was jacking off instead of burying that dick inside my velvet walls.
“Stop jacking off and fuck me, please.”
Sadly, that was all it took. He came. Not the slow rise up the shaft of his cock. This was as though a shaken glass pop bottle suddenly uncapped. An eruption that shot 3 feet in the air and landed smack in the middle of his chest. Hot, white, and creamy, the spill dribbled down and collected in his belly button. A bubble of molten lava seeping from a geyser about to blow. Is it ever safe to laugh during sex? I couldn’t contain my humor and fell back in a heap of giggles. I guess that was a first date to remember.
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