Airplane Pickups And Almost Getting Killed

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Airplane Pickups And Almost Getting KilledAirplane Pickups, and almost getting KilledIn the first few years after I started my business, I had to do some traveling around the country, and the only practical way was to fly. To entertain myself, I came up with a little game I played on almost every flight. Or at least I attempted to play the game on virtually every flight. As soon as I boarded a flight, I quickly scanned the plane to see if there were any attractive women who were sitting in a row by themselves, or at least with an open seat next to them. If I spotted that situation, I would immediately go sit down beside her and be as friendly as I felt I could be based on her initial response. If things seemed to be going okay, I could usually get away with the next part of the game, which happened when the person who was actually assigned the seat I was sitting in showed up. I would tell them the airline screwed up, and didn’t seat my wife and I next to each other. I would hold up my boarding pass and ask if they would mind terribly taking my seat so she and I could remain next next to each other. More often than not, they would agree to trade seats and be walking away before the girl I was sitting next to even realized what had just taken place. I never had one single woman be offended by my little trick, and I usually turned to them and said something about how lucky I was to end up seated beside the prettiest woman on the flight. That was the whole game, and if I got that far, I considered myself successful. Now that I was seated buy an attractive woman, I was presented with a brand-new challenge. How far can I take this opportunity, now that I’m sitting by a hot babe? Getting some sort of action from her was the home run I was looking for.If You recall I said I attempted to have this happen. I say that because in order for this scenario to work, several things were required to fall into place. There has to be a woman who is flying alone, who is attractive enough to warrant the effort from me, and she has to sit down in a row that hasn’t already been filled by the other passengers. The lack of that combination developing probably happened on 75 percent of the flights I was on. In a few cases, the passenger I tried to switch seats with didn’t buy my story about the wife, and I was in no position to push the issue. A few times, the girl I was intending to hit on, had absolutely no interest in me. All total, I had the thing come together only four times which were significant. To be considered significant, meant that I had to meet them on the plane as I described, then do something with them, either on the plane, or after the flight, that had a memorable sexual component to it. The following four short stories describe those encounters.Number 1 Getting A Handy at 30,000 feetWhen I walked into the cabin of the plane, I thought the hot 22-year-old was alone. When I sat down next to her, I was really hoping this one would work out, because she was smokin hot, and just looked a little nasty. She immediately thought I was funny as hell, and went along with the wife gag with no problem. The man who was assigned that seat, graciously traded with me so everything was looking great. About then, her mother, a MILF who was easily hotter than she was, asked if she could scoot by us to get to the window seat. She had apparently stopped at the bathroom as they were boarding. She pushed her shapely ass into my face as she squeezed past. I was initially discouraged, but before long, they both gave me reason to keep the scenario going. Everything they said or did, was flirtatious, and gave me a pretty good indication that this one might possibly be my second mother / daughter experience. Boy that was a weird one, but that’s another story. Anyway, back on the airplane, they shocked me a little by quickly becoming the aggressors. They even asked me to get in the middle seat so they could both talk to me. This was a cross country, east bound flight from Los Angeles to Boston, so flying 4 1/2 hours against the sun, heading east, meant that most of this flight was going to be in the dark. I totally don’t understand these mother-daughter deals, but apparently there are many more of them than most people would think. It seems to be common for them to team up to fuck one guy. I can’t even imagine a mother doing that with her daughter, but you can find them in videos right on the site. The most outrageous fantasies of how I would fuck these two wild women began playing in my brain. Unfortunately, that’s not how things turned out, but what did happen, was still damned entertaining! After the flight attendants served dinner, and then got everything picked up, the cabin lights were turned off. The sun was down by then so the cabin was quite dark. The sexy mom said she was cold, and it was in fact very chilly in the cabin. She pointed out her erect nipples to me as they pushed up against the thin material of her blouse. She called them her built-in thermometers, and said they never lie. Mom reached up and pushed her call button to summon a flight attendant. When the flight attendant arrived, mom and her hard nipples spoke for all three of us, saying we were cold, and requesting three blankets. Shortly, the flight attendant returned, and passed out the blankets to each of us. All three of us reclined our seats as far as they go, and covered up with our blankets. Not even five minutes had passed when I felt mom’s hand slip under my blanket, and make its way directly to my crotch where she began feeling me up. Of course my cock was rock hard in seconds. About one minute later, the hot daughters hand slid under my blanket from the other side, and joined mom in the under blanket fun. I could tell their hands touched as they were groping me and still neither one of them stopped. In fact, after a little more groping, they worked together to unzip my pants and pull my rigid cock out through the fly. They were almost fighting each other for the opportunity to stroke my shaft. It apparently wasn’t long enough to satisfy both their hands fully, so they once again worked together to undo my belt, and the button of my pants so they could push my pants down enough to access my balls. After that, they played nicely together, and finally settled in with the young lady stroking my cock while her sexy mother attended to my balls. They gave me a nice work out for several minutes, and then mom leaned close to me and whispered in my ear. She said, “I hope this is only the first time you cum for us tonight.” I was sort of thinking the same thing when mom moved her hand underneath my balls, and slipped one nicely manicured fingertip about an inch up my asshole. That did it for me, and the next second I was blasting a load that filled the daughters hand. She quickly shared it with her mother, and they went crazy with the natural lube, stroking my sensitive cock feverishly, and panting in both ears how much they each wanted me to fuck them, and fill their pussies with more of the same hot cum. I had to make them stop because my dick was far too sensitive after blasting that huge load, but my fantasies were going full speed again, as I closed my eyes and told them I was going to get a few minutes sleep after that awesome orgasm. My fantasies were not to be realized however. Cutting to the chase, before we landed, they started working me for hotel accommodations that we could all share. They got nasty as they talked about how much fun we could have together for the right price. I don’t know if they were really even mother and daughter, but they were definitely pros, and I think instead of me picking up on the girl, I was the one being set up by them. The hand job was fantastic fun, but I passed on the pricing night that mom was proposing. It was definitely a case of the tables being turned on me.Number 2 Ann, The First TimeIf you’ve read earlier stories of mine, then you may remember my third wife Ann, and the multiple times I shared her with my best friend Bob. After Bob, there were others to share her with, but those are other stories. This one begins at the very beginning. One fine morning in San Diego, I was waiting to board my American Airlines flight to Chicago, and as usual, I was people watching as the other passengers continued to arrive, and check in for the flight. I was heading to Chicago to see customers there. As I sat in the waiting area a very pretty blonde girl walked up to the check-in line. She had a great face, beautiful hair and even though she had worn comfortable clothing for the long flight, I still sensed there was a smoking hot little body under those loose clothes. After a few minutes, one of the flight attendants called everyone to attention, then announced that this plane had a mechanical problem, and the flight would be delayed. Many people were understandably upset. It didn’t have much effect on me because all my work would begin tomorrow morning. All I had to do today was make it to Chicago. We ended up being stuck for an hour and a half waiting until they could get another airplane. When everyone began to board that one, I did something that I’ve pulled many many, times on flights. I let a little less than half of the other passengers board ahead of me, then from the front of the plane I quickly scanned the seated passengers looking for attractive women seated by themselves. Bingo, that cute girl was seated by herself, so I proceeded directly down the center aisle, and sat down beside her. It’s important to be charming immediately without being scary, because you want them to think you’re funny, and like you just a tiny bit in that first 30 seconds. That’s because the person who’s actually assigned to that seat is going to walk up any second. When he, or she does show up, you put on your biggest apologetic smile, hold out your boarding pass, and say, “Here’s my assigned seat. The airline accidentally separated my wife and I. (Motion tenderly to the pretty woman you’ve sat down beside) Would you mind terribly trading seats with me, so I can sit with her?” If you were charming enough, she’s going along with the plan just because she thinks you’re funny. Nine out of 10 times, the person you asked, will be happy to trade seats with you. That’s what happened and why I was sitting next to Ann. Like I said, I was going to Chicago, but unfortunately for Ann, her final destination was Boston. Her brother was graduating with a Masters in engineering from MIT. Ann could cook up some pretty mean Mexican food for white girl, and for a graduation present, her brother along with a few random roommates, requested a Mexican feast cooked by Ann, so that’s where she was going. Talking with her was easy, and the way I sat down by her had been a great icebreaker. We were both very flirtatious by nature and before long some of the joking around became a little sexual in nature. About an hour outside of Chicago, the captain came on the intercom to apologize for the late start and started listing which connections could still be made, and which ones we were too late to catch. It turned out Ann’s flight to Boston would be leaving Chicago about the same time we were arriving. The rough thing was, there were no more flights to Boston until morning. People in that situation were asked to hold illegal bahis up their hand. A flight attendant went around to all those people with a Hotel voucher for a free night at the Sheridan Hotel right on the airport property in Chicago. They would have to claim their luggage however, and then bring it back in the morning. When that was announced, is when I learned some important details about this sexy blonde’s trip. That’s when she told me about her brother, and about how she was coming out here for not only his graduation, but also to put on this feast for them. I told her that was really nice of her and she explained to me that it was more than nice, it was heroic. When I ask why, she explained that there is no such thing as a Mexican market in Boston, so she had brought one suitcase with clothes and two huge suitcases with nothing but cans of refried beans, Ortega chiles, tortillas, fresh avocados, huge jars of salsa, and the list went on. She said that she didn’t have any idea how she would move that luggage from baggage claim to wherever this hotel was, and as a student herself, she said that her funds wouldn’t permit sky caps or taxis. I told her I don’t have any place to go when we get into Chicago, so I’ll help you, and we’ll figure out a way to get all of your stuff to the hotel. Then whatever we do, you try to do the opposite in the morning. She was very grateful for my offer. A few minutes later and we landed in Chicago without incident. As we waited in line at baggage claim, I asked Ann how she got the heavy bags to the airport in San Diego. She told me she had been scrambling in the last two days to get all the supplies she needed, and her ex-boyfriend was the one who owned the, I almost said suitcases, but they were more like trunks. She had been buying the stuff and dropping it off for him to pack. He had loaded them into his pickup truck. She said she parked her car at his house so she wouldn’t have to pay for a weeks parking at the airport, then he drove her to the airport where he dropped her off, and unloaded the trunks for the curbside baggage guys. I said, “So you don’t know how heavy they are?” Ann told me she had never touched them, but with all they contained she figured they were pretty darn heavy. I had committed to helping her with them, so I was going to see it through. The bag with her clothes showed up first, and then my bag but no trunks. She was starting to stress out, but then saw them coming on another conveyor with large items like golf clubs and other big items. I went over to get them off the conveyor, and I was shocked by the fact they had allowed her to put them on, and even more shocked that they hadn’t charged her for excess baggage weight. They were heavy as hell, but as I put the first one on the floor it moved. I grabbed the second one he used, and heaved it up and over the edge of the conveyor. When it touched the floor, it moved as well. Hallelujah, they were equipped with casters that she didn’t know about. She still couldn’t have done it easily by herself, but this was going to work out fine. She took both the clothing bags which had rollers, and I took charge of both trucks. Once we were organized, our little freight train started rolling along on our way to the Sheridan, about two blocks away. As she was checking in with her voucher, she was asked if she needed a bellman. I sensed that Ann had never stayed in a hotel like this before. Not surprising because she was barely 21 years old. I was 31, and years of business travel already under my belt made me feel right at home. I know her money was really tight, and even something as small as tipping a bellman had an impact. I told the clerk a bellman wouldn’t be necessary. We got the room key and started up the elevator. When Ann first opened the door I thought there was a mistake. The room was shaped like a triangle and tiny. The bed must have been a custom job, because it was larger then a twin bed, but smaller than a double bed. There was barely enough room for the trunks to fit inside. I learned later that in the construction of many hotels they end up with oddball spaces such as this, and and if the hotel is very near an airport, they go ahead and finish the spaces out as guest rooms. Then they give the airlines super special rates, for pilots, or flight attendants to use while getting there mandatory sleep. Of course the airline could also issue vouchers to passengers in need of a room until their next flight. Once I had Ann, and all of her luggage situated in her room, there was really no more reason for me to stick around, except for the fact I wanted to. I said, “You know, neither of us have any plans for this evening. Why don’t you let me take you to dinner tonight?” I don’t know if it was her considering how expensive any food would be on the airport grounds if she had to buy it herself, or whether she wanted to go to dinner with me, but whichever it was, Ann accepted my invitation. There was a television in the room, so she turned it on for me while she did all her girl things in the bathroom until she came out smelling nice, and looking good in a sexy black dress she pulled out of her suitcase. I left my bag in her room when we left to go downstairs. This was a nice hotel, and we checked out the several restaurants offered, finally settling on a dimly lit but very romantic steakhouse. Ann had become more, and more flirty as her stress level diminished, and I already knew she was a very touchy type from the flight. As soon as the plane took off we were talking, and laughing about the way I sat beside her and within one conversation her hand would be on my knee for a second, and then she would have both hands grabbing my arm, then waving in the air, and then back on my knee. It’s the way Ann communicated. Soon after sliding into the big red leather booth she took my hand, and sandwiched it between both of hers. Squeezing my hand gently, she laid her head against my shoulder and said, “Thank you so much for coming to my rescue today. I would have never made it without you.” I replied, “Sure you would. Any woman as gorgeous, and sexy as you are, could sell tickets to the men lining up to help you with your bags.” She said, “Do you really think I’m sexy?” When I told her that I’d been looking all around since we got to Chicago, and I hadn’t seen any woman who came even close to her sexiness, Ann said, “I think you should find out if you’re right about that.” Her tone of voice was sultry and suggestive, and as she was speaking those words she lifted her head from my shoulder and then looked up at me in a very submissive posture. Somehow, Ann was screaming at me to kiss her, without ever making a sound. The kiss wasn’t the kind of passion that is wild and frantic exploration while you’re fucking. This was the kind of passion that is soft, with lips pressed gently together, while tongues slow danced together. The kiss continued long enough for my cock to become fully erect, and then some. I finally broke away. Ann opened her eyes and looked hurt at first. She said, “You didn’t like my kiss?” I was dead serious when I said, “Quite the opposite. I loved your kiss. I stopped to keep the booth from catching on fire!” The hurt face was replaced with a smile, and she said, “I have all of those you want when we get back upstairs, and I hope the room does catch on fire!” We enjoyed dinner, but we definitely didn’t waste anytime finishing it. After that first kiss it’s like we were both saving everything until we got through that Hotel room door. The sound of it closing and then the click of the lock, served as the starting gun for the sexual Olympics. Let the games begin. Ann was it something special. Most chicks seemed to instinctively know why I was in a room with them, getting ready to fuck, just hours, or minutes after they met me. They knew it was a one night stand and no matter how intense the kissing or fucking became, there was probably never a moment when both of us didn’t understand that this is where it stopped, and you could feel that in the entire interaction. The sex during those times, is probably more accurately described as intense, rather than passionate. Ann was a completely different ballgame. This woman was fucking passionate in every kiss, every caress, and every movement of her sexy body while we fucked. Her sexual skills were as good as anyone I had been with, and she certainly wasn’t among the group who had never experienced an orgasm. I suspect she had enjoyed plenty of orgasms, and hers was spectacular. It wasn’t at all what she did, it was the way she did it. Once it was over, it felt like you just finished making love, instead of fucking. It was weird for me, and almost felt too good. I left the room later that night to pick up my rental car, then made my way to my own hotel to get some sleep. I had a tough time with that, because I couldn’t get Ann out of my mind. Years later after we were married, I reminded her of that night, and how easy she had been. She laughed a little, and said I guess you never new about the $100 bet I had with a girlfriend. She said she had never had a one night stand in her life, and her girlfriend was giving her shit about it. She bet her friend Tiesa100 bucks that before she came back from Boston, she would have her first one night stand. She said, “You worked right into my plan, and helped me get it out of the way the first night. But don’t even think about asking me to split the money with you.” We both got a good laugh out of that.After the night in Chicago,Ann and I didn’t see, or speak to each other for more than 18 months, but during that entire time I thought of her often. She was the type that just wouldn’t get out of my mind. Finally it was bothering me enough that I had to find her some way. Grinding the gears in my head as hard as I could, I remembered her writing her phone number on her boarding pass in her hotel room. She carried it with her from the plane, and after fucking that night, I remembered her offering to give me her phone number, and then seeing her pick up the boarding pass and write on it. It’s unbelievable that I found it, but it was in a file with my expense report from that trip. Apparently without studying items carefully I had put all the airline related ticket stubs and such in one envelope that was part of the expense report. My boarding pass, and hers we’re in there together. Scribbled across the bottom was “Ann in Chicago” and her phone number. I tried calling her two or three times a day for two weeks, and always got her answering machine. I left messages but she never called back. I remained persistent into the third week, and one afternoon she answered. I was joking when I asked her if she had been out of town, or was avoiding me. The tone in her voice, told me she wasn’t joking when she said, “I know you’ve been calling and I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.” I asked her why, and was shocked when she told me, “Because you make me scare myself. I liked that way too much!”Number 3 The Mile high clubI talked earlier about how I approached Airline flights, and how I had four successes out of all my attempts. The big one of course was Ann, and there was certainly nothing wrong with the mother and daughter hand job under the blankets. The third successful illegal bahis siteleri pickup was so simple, and so dumb that it hardly bares talking about, except to say welcome to the mile high club!My biggest customer at the time was in Baltimore, and they represented far too much of my sales, for me to not cater to their every whim.They called saying they had a problem that needed my attention, otherwise I wouldn’t be boarding a redeye to Baltimore. The plane wasn’t even one third filled with passengers, so flight attendants weren’t even looking to see what seat you were assigned. A quick scan spotted only one possibility sitting near the back of the plane. From where I was standing, all I could make out was that her face seemed to be reasonably attractive, and she had very nice blonde hair. No trickery was needed, so I just walked back and sat down beside her. Her face was a little prettier than what I first thought, but everything else about her appearance was pretty average. She was average height with an average body. Her tits weren’t big, but they weren’t tiny either. Everything was average. She was wearing a light blue dress that went about to her knees, and some tan colored, strappy sandals. If somebody had asked me to profile her at that moment, my assessment would have been way off target. She looked pretty straight laced, and conservative to me. She expressed her delight, that someone to talk to, would be sitting next to her during this long, night time flight. Since I was expected to start helping out when they opened the doors tomorrow morning in Baltimore, I thought I would be wise to catch a little sleep. They opened up at 8 AM Baltimore time, but my body was still going to be aware that it was 5 AM where I come from. There were fresh blankets, still in their bags laying in the empty seats to her left. I told her I needed a nap, and asked her to hand me a couple of blankets. She said that sounded good to her as well, so when she got my blankets, she picked up one for herself. I left one in its bag to use as a pillow, and spread the other one over my body. To my surprise, I fell asleep pretty quickly and had a great, energizing power nap. When I woke up, Blondie was sleeping with her head tilted over on my shoulder. I left her there because it wasn’t uncomfortable, and after another 15 or so minutes, she began to stir. When she managed to open her eyes, I asked, “Did I make a good pillow?” She sat up quickly and said, “I’m so sorry. I must have slumped over after I fell asleep.” I was k**ding around with her when I said, “That’s okay, It’s my turn to use you as a pillow now.” And I put my head on her shoulder for a second, then raised it back up. She offered her shoulder and said, “Go ahead, use me any way you want to.” The way she said that to me could be interpreted several ways, and with my new energy, I thought I would find out. I started with a question that might give me a clue. The key to my question was the voice inflection that I asked it with, much more than the words I said. I turned to look at her and inquired, “Use you ANY way I want to?” Stone faced, and without breaking eye contact, she said, “Are you on any sex offender list?”I broke out laughing. She was very different than I had assumed she would be. She had a sarcastic quick wit, and loved to k** around. Before my chuckling from her first zinger had settled, she followed up with, “The reason I’m asking that, is because I’ve been looking for a good pervert, but I insist they have credentials!” We were both talking silly gibberish now, but having fun. I said, “I’ve heard of that problem. Unscrupulous men who claim to be perverts, but when carefully checked out, they’ve never m*****ed a single soul. Shameful isn’t it?” That was the tone of the conversation now. She picked up where I left off and said “Yes, it is shameful. What’s this world coming to If you can’t trust someone to be the pervert they claim?”I said, “Well rest assured you can count on me to be the certified real deal. You can’t live within 500 feet of me, but you can count on me, I’m also a member in good standing, of the mile high club!” I could see how that comment grabbed her attention, and she stopped joking for a minute, then said, “No shit! Are you really?” Seeing how excited she was, I hated having to tell her the truth, but I did. I hung my head and said, “No, I’m not really a member of the mile high club. I’m just a wanna be.” She became excited again, and said, “Me too! What was I hearing? I said, “You want to what?” She was bouncing in her seat when she said, “We should sOOOO do it!” “Do what?” I asked. “The mile high thing, You know, become members of the mile high club.” I couldn’t believe my ears. This wasn’t about physical attraction, spiritual compatibility, sexual attraction, love, lust, being horny, or doing it for money, which covers pretty much every motivation I can think of for fucking. This was purely opportunity. She said, “I’ve got girlfriends that I can rub this in the faces of for years. They never think I do anything risky, or daring, and this will show their sorry asses.” I was still trying to let the shock ware off, and make sure I understood what I was hearing. I said,“So you want us to go back to the bathroom there and fuck?” She said,“We can totally play that by ear. If you just stick it in, it counts.” I was shaking my head in disbelief at this conservative looking woman’s mental picture of this. What she was proposing couldn’t possibly be less sexual. The way she was visualizing it was no different than brushing your teeth, or combing your hair. You brush your teeth to have clean teeth. You comb your hair to have neat hair. You fuck in the airplane bathroom to join a club. Not because fucking feels good, or you’re horny, but to join a club. She was a complete nerd in so many ways, in her head this made perfect scence.I said, “Why not!” She was really excited now. She told me to stay put and she was going to walk toward the front to see what the flight attendants were doing. She went partway up the aisle, then turned around to come back. She didn’t even sit down, but leaned toward me and whispered, “There all sleeping except for one lookout. Come on let’s go now!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me all the way to the bathroom. This was weird. I haven’t had one single thought about how her pussy will taste, or what her ass is going to look like. None of the things that usually filled my mind in the moments before fucking someone new. Instead, I was thinking how glad I was that she led me to the inside bathroom, because it was a little more roomy than the one on the outside that curved with the contour of the fuselage. Having never had a sexual experience like this before, I found myself not knowing what to do. She told me to lock the door. Okay I did. She told me to pull down my pants. Okay I did. She dropped her panties to her ankles, and pulled her skirt up, exposing a pretty cute ass. Then she bent over the closed toilet and grabbed the wall saying to me, “Put it in now.” I put my hand against her pussy and then said, “We have two problems, You’re not at all turned on, so your pussy is as dry as a bone. And my dicks not hard.” She blew a big wad of spit into her hand, then smeared it between her pussy lips. Then reaching back, she started jerking my cock until I was like half, to three quarters hard, and started saying, “Put it in now, and tried to guide me in with her hand. It was beyond obvious that we had to completely separate interests. Finally I accepted the fact that this was never going to turn out like a hoped it would, I decided to stick my cock inside her before I went completely limp again. I rubbed the head up-and-down her slit a couple of times, and then using my hand like a cast to make it stiffer, I pushed my cock inside her. I could almost see the wheels in her head analyzing the situation. Impatiently she said, “Do it.” So I moved out a little, and pushed back in a little, maybe twice, and then she pulled off of my cock, then spun around with the biggest grin on her face and said, “We did it! High five!”Wow, was this chick weird! So did I fuck her? In her mind I did, and at least we were both now official members, of the mile high club.Number 4 No fusion this timeMy fourth and final success on airplanes, was the one I mentioned being a pick up success, but that’s as far as it went. It’s memorable for a reason I’ll talk about near the end. This was a very short flight from Los Angeles, to San Francisco. I boarded the flight and picked out my target quickly. She was a blonde again with a very cute face. I say cute because she carried a little too much weight in her face and everywhere else to be called Beautiful. She had a Marilyn Monroe type body if you plumped Marilyn up just a little. She was dressed casually in a summer dress and some sandals. I sat down and we greeted each other. After that we really didn’t talk until the plane pushed back, then did all of its taxi stuff, and finally took off. Once the plane was off the ground and leveled out, I thought I would make some conversation. As brilliant as I am, that always comes easy. Not this time. You know how you can tell when somebody’s trying to act Smart, or how they talk to you with larger words that might not be in your vocabulary, sort of trying to establish themselves as more intelligent than you are. This girl was the complete opposite. I could tell she was trying so hard, to dial it back a little, struggling to have a conversation with this moron who sat down beside her. She was friendly, and smiling, and doing her best. In no time she was telling me that she never has a date, and how lonely and boring, being a student can be. She asked me if I’d ever seen any of Ingmar Bergman’s films. I had to admit I had not at that time. I don’t know if it was Sadie Hawkins day or what, but she invited me to the movies that night. I should back up for one second. We had already established that she was a student at Berkeley, and I was seeing a customer near Pinole, which is a small town north of Berkeley. I already had hotel reservations at a Marriott that I believe was on University Drive just across the freeway from UC Berkeley. So we both knew we were in close proximity to each other, and that I would be there for three days. So she had invited me to this small art theater showing Bergman’s old film called the Seventh Seal. She told me a little about it. Of how everything was symbolism, and she coached me on a few things I should watch out for that this director was prone to do. The whole movie thing sounded interesting, and I wouldn’t have to talk to her. I agreed to go on the date with her, and when I found out her tiny off campus apartment was less than a mile from my hotel, I offered to drive her home from the airport. We had already established that she did not own car, and I was renting one at the airport. She thought that was perfect because there was an early show. That way if I wanted I can hang at her place where she would make a small dinner, then we could go around the corner to see the movie, and be out of there by 8:30 PM. She said it would give us some time to talk. I helped her with her bags, up to her small apartment, and because of the schedule she wanted to keep, canlı bahis siteleri she went into the small kitchen a few feet away to start whipping up some food. I was a few years older than her, and a lot taller. At least I had that going for me. I was trying to find something to feel superior about, but I wasn’t sure why. Looking around her apartment I saw virtually nothing but books. Stacks of books. Stacks of thick books, with things on the covers that I couldn’t understand. I picked one up and opened it. After scanning roughly 7 pages, I had hardly found a word I could pronounce. I asked her, “So what are you studying, and how far along are you in college?” Her answer sort of pulled everything together for me. She told me she was studying physics, and some other stuff as she put it. As for how far along she was, she was just finishing up her PhD, and would in a matter of months, be a nuclear physicist. I was probably the dumbest person she had come in contact with in a year. We went to the movies, and afterward back at her apartment, she tried to explain to me what I had watched. She made a simple black-and-white movie into the most complex study of human emotion one could ever witness. It was all too much for me, so I thanked her for dinner and a movie and headed for my hotel.The aftermath of Number 4 The bartenderIt still wasn’t 9 PM yet, when I put my bag down in my room at the Berkeley Marriott. The night was still young and trying to hold my own with the nuclear physicist had stressed me the fuck out. A cocktail seemed in order so I made my way down to the bar. There was hardly anyone in there as I pulled up a barstool and ordered my vodka. The highlight was the very sexy bartender named Jennifer. She was about 30 like me. Had the signs of having been around the block a couple times, but the dark curly hair falling on her flannel shirt, then the jeans and the leggings over them made her look fucking hot. Then it hit me. I think she was going for this look, and she nailed it. The girl from Flashdance! She was that kind of cute. I couldn’t help myself and I started working her as hard as I could. In a virtually empty bar I got a lot of face time with her, and by midnight I was confident that I had made some solid progress. I needed to get some sleep then, and I had already found out that she was working the next two nights as well. I just happened to be staying in the hotel both of those nights. Things went well with the customer the next day and I was back at the hotel by late afternoon. Before going up my room I made a cruise through the bar to see if Jennifer was there. She was nowhere in sight so I asked the dude tending bar what time she started. He told me she worked 7 PM till closing. I asked, “What time do you close?” He told me that was at the bartenders discretion. He said never before 11:30 PM and not later then 1 AM. He said it was totally dependent on business. I thanked him and went up to my room. I didn’t come back down until a little after 9 PM, and as I recall, it was a Wednesday night. The place was dead, so getting Jenifers full attention wasn’t a problem at all. She leaned on her elbows and talked with me for hours. I’m pretty sure she knew what her tits were doing inside her slightly unbuttoned blouse when she leaned forward that way. Going braless was the thing to do in those days, and the white silky blouse she wore highlighted her nipples in an awesome way when something caused them to stiffen. Before long I figured out what was making her nipples get hard. It wasn’t the chilled bottles of liquor, or the ice buckets around. When they really stiffened up, was each time she caught me staring at them. The flirting was reaching the point that I knew I was in. We just had to figure out the logistics. Knowing when to be bold is always a judgment call but I was certain from the way she was flirting, and downright inviting me to stare at her gorgeous nipples, that this was the time to close the deal. I asked, “How long do you have to stay around here when it’s dead like this?” It was after 11 PM already, and myself plus one other guy who was falling asleep at the far end the bar, were the only patrons. She said she could have the place closed down in 15 or 20 minutes. She said there’s not much to clean up, or put away when you didn’t get anything out. She had the greatest smile and I wasn’t going to let her get away. I said, “I haven’t spent enough time with you tonight. After you close up, why don’t you come up to my room for a while?” Jennifers smile grew even wider at my invitation. She said, “Why do you want to spend more time with me?” If there was ever a time to be bold. This was it! I kept it simple, looking straight into her eyes and said, “I want to taste you.” Both nipples shot forward like someone had thumped them hard in a freezing cold room. They strained against the thin white material as Jennifer said, “I want to spend more time with you too, but going up to your room is a surefire way to get fired around here. My house isn’t far, why don’t you follow me home?” Cha Chang! 30 minutes later she pulled into the driveway of her corner lot. I want on around the corner and parked at the curb on the side of her house. The heat had been building for two nights so there was none of, “Can I get you something to drink?” or smalltalk. Three steps in the door, she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bedroom. Instantly we were tearing at each others clothes. Franticly kissing, and groping each other until our clothes were at our feet. We were locked in a naked embrace with Jennifer’s hot nipples pressed against my chest, while my hard cock bobbed between her thighs. Breaking the kiss, I said, “Do you remember why I wanted to spend more time with you?” I’ve never heard a sexier voice then when she said, “You want to taste me?” I didn’t answer Jennifer with words. I tossed her onto the bed. I would have lifted her knees, then pushed them back and wide apart, but she beat me to it. I dove right in with my tongue, licking, probing, thrusting, totally exploring her delicious holes. It makes any guy feel like a king when you can cause a woman to be as aroused as Jennifer was exhibiting. She started begging me to fuck her. Pleading with me to give her my cock. I would do that soon, but I had this hot sexy thing too close to an orgasm to stop now. I had only focused on her clitoris for a few seconds when Jennifer grabbed my head and pulled me into her pussy hard. One small gasp before the low pitched moans and groans that seem to come from a woman’s soul started, and then she was fucking my face with her hips bucking, and grinding her engorged clit against my tongue. It was a fabulous orgasm for her to have, and for me to experience. Seconds later, Jennifer released my head, and begged me again to fuck her. I crawled onto the bed, kneeling between her legs that were still pulled up with her knees as high as her tits. Sometimes nothing is better then missionary position, and right now was one of those times. With her spread wide excepting everything I could give her I entered her pussy, and pushed balls deep. I put my body down against hers, to feel those nipples rubbing my chest. I kissed her neck as I fucked her hard. Knowing I was getting so close, I offered her one courtesy when I said, “Baby I’m gonnaa cum so hard. What do you want me to do?” For the first time since I started fucking her she moved her legs. The way she moved them answered my question, even before she spoke. Her silky legs moved to wrap around my back and then she locked her ankles. Jennifer pulled me even deeper inside and said, “What I want you to do, is cum inside me.” Hearing that was more than I could handle, and my moaning, groaning orgasm started. I filled her hot pussy with a load that kept gushing from my cock for what seemed like forever. The room wasn’t even hot, but we were both soaked with sweat. She tried to leverage me onto my back with her weight, so I assisted her and we rolled over with her on top without losing our cum filled connection. She playfully rode my cock a little while kissing me, and then she lifted up to let my cock fall from her pussy. When the swollen head popped out of her tight cunt, it was immediately followed by the expected gush of cum. Jennifer quickly sat down on the large pool of cum on my stomach, making a seal between her open pussy lips and my skin. Then she did something that I thought was so cute, I’ve never forgotten it. Maintaining that pussy to skin seal, wiggling slowly right to left and gradually forward, almost making little circles as her pussy came higher and higher. Everywhere her pussy had been, she left behind a trail of slick, shiny cum. Watching it was hotter than fuck! When her slow-moving pussy stopped just a few inches under my chin, Jennifer asked, “Do you know what just happened to you? You have just been attacked buy a giant snail, and now it’s going to suffocate you!” One smooth forward motion, and her slippery pussy wrapped around my mouth. So she was one of those girls. The ones who get off having their pussy eaten after they got filled up with a big load. Works for me, and I started tongue fucking her hot pussy like it was the last one on earth. Suddenly Jennifer froze. She hadn’t said anything yet, but I could tell something was wrong. I struggled to slip my face sideways to escape the batwing embrace of Jennifer’s pussy lips, and when my mouth was free enough, I asked, “What’s wrong?” That was met instantaneously with, “Shhhhh!” Listen!” At first I couldn’t hear anything but then I began to pick up the faint sound of a distant Motor approaching. It’s a distinct sound that any lover of motorcycles recognizes. Jennifer was still frozen with her listening ears hyper focused, when I said, “All I can hear is a Harley in the distance.” An F-18 Hornet can’t eject a pilot as fast as Jennifer flew off the bed. She said, “Fuck! What’s he doing home a day early?” All I could manage was, “What?” She said, “That’s my old man! He’s home a day early.” Being a little square I said, “Your father?” A very flustered Jennifer said, “No dip shit, It’s my husband, and he will kill us both if he finds you here!” That made a believer out of me, so I grabbed my clothes off the floor and started to step in my pants when she said, “There’s not time to get dressed. Grab your clothes and go out this window.” I knew she was right. The sound of that big Harley was almost on top of us. Thank God the window opened easily, and there was no screen. It crossed my mind, that this could’ve happened before I was about to throw my first leg out, when Jennifer grabbed me by the arm and said, “Wait.” That didn’t sound like a good plan to me, but she continued, “Wait until we hear him turn into the driveway, he can’t see this side of the house from there.” Seconds later, we heard him make that turn Into the driveway, and the big motor dropped to an idol. She gave me a shove out the window, and closed the d****s right behind me. I ran like a frightened rabbit, all 40 feet to my rented Ford Pinto. Don’t ask me why I rented a Pinto. I’m just telling you, that’s what was parked at the curb. I got my naked ass in there as fast as I could, and quietly hauled ass. She was one of the hottest fucks I’ve ever experienced, but not worth getting killed over! That was the closest call I have ever had in my lifetime. Within six months, I would come far closer to a repeat performance than I wanted to, but that’s another story.I hope you will comment. It’s why I tell my stories.

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