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My heart was thumping as I felt his hands gently and tentatively squeeze my bottom as if he was testing me, unable to believe my lack of response, wondering what to do next.My mind told me that it wasn’t too late to stop; even then I could have released his neck and moved his hand away with only a little embarrassment, but I didn’t. Nervously, almost unable to believe what I’d started, I nuzzled his neck with my nose and after a moment of sheer terror, felt his right hand join his left on my bottom, cupping both my buttocks and squeezing me tightly against his tall, muscular frame.Nervously, not quite understanding what I had started, I pressed myself against him and rubbed his slightly whiskery neck with my cheek. He squeezed me tightly, his rough chin against my smooth cheek.Like awkward teenagers at a school party, our faces clumsily manoeuvred until finally our lips touched.Oh God! What was I doing?Our closed mouths pressed tentatively together; I felt his hot lips on mine and his. He kissed my cloth-covered mound, before easing the tiny scrap of fabric down my legs, dropping it on the floor. Sliding his hands under my butt, he raised my body to his mouth and began to feast, delving into my wet folds with an agile tongue. I bucked against his mouth, crying out as an orgasm hit hard and fast. One finger eased inside, and he continued until I had orgasmed again, convulsing under him. He looked up at me, mouth slick with my wetness. ‘Are you warm enough or do I need to continue?’ ‘I’m warm now, but please, don’t stop.’ I whimpered. He suckled my stiff clit before making his way back up my body. His boxers joined my underwear on the floor, and he lay on top me once more. I could feel the warm weight of him on my thigh. Easing himself between my spread legs, he entered me smoothly and fully, impaling me completely on his hard length. I moaned as I felt him begin to thrust, fucking me gently. Kissing him, I could taste myself on his lips. He continued to fuck me,.
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The bar was crowded, mostly twenty something's, we took over a couple tables in the back. I saw that the guys had already accosted a waitress and had drinks. Always looking for a reason to talk to Joan, I approached the bar. She looked great, tall, muscular, her brown hair held up by pins. She wore a black t-shirt, torn in the front to allow her cleavage to spill out. She had on short shorts, also black, with just a hint of her ass peeking out and her long, long legs ending in black high-tops and white socks. At twenty-eight, she was probably the oldest woman there, but she out classed all of the other women, staff or patrons. When she caught me approaching, she popped the top on a Summer Shandy and slid the bottle my way. I tipped the neck toward her and drained it in a swallow. She laughed and produced another. I said thank you and told her I'd rode and didn't want anything else but water. She nodded and looked back at the table of guys. "Hey," she said. "I get off in fifteen.

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