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Only A Memory (2/3)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
*2: Him*
Okay. You asked. So here's how I remember it.
I'm not going to divulge how long ago this was, but I had only recently
become ashamed of the big gold chain I wore for years. I mean, I never
looked like John Travolta with his big pants, big collar and big nose or
anything, but I guess it would be fair to say that I hung out at my
share of discos.
I was still at Tech at the time, but I hadn't moved into the dorm yet.
I was still living with my Uncle Roy in his nineteen-fifties crackerbox
house with all of the motorcycle parts in the basement. That was Roy's
hobby in those days: collecting motorcycle parts and pretending he was
going to custom build a bike one day. He'd been buying bushel baskets
of assorted useless junk since about 1962 and hadn't mated one part to
another in all that time, and I doubt if he has yet.
Anyway, living in the spare room in my Uncle Roy's house was not, as you
can imagine, the greatest thing in the world for my social life. Roy was
an insomniac, among other irritating things, so he was awake when I went
to school and was awake when I got back and was awake pretty much all of
the time. There is no way I would have even invited a girl to the
house, anyway, as when Roy wasn't watching t.v. wrestling he was
listening to these records which would make Roger Miller puke. I think
the last time he had bought stereo equipment was when Pet Clark was big,
and he still thought of the Beatles as snotty foreigners. I should
write a book about Uncle Roy. Oy.
So what does a guy do when he's young, relatively good looking,
relatively well dressed and incredibly horny? Check out the girls
wiggling their butts in dance bars, of course, and hope that someone
will finally notice that he is just irresistible. Hope being the
operative word there.
I had a lot of what I used to call 'bar friends'. These were guys which
I saw at the same bars weekend after weekend. After a while if you keep
going to the same place you get to know a lot of the other regulars, and
that was okay because then you'd have someone to sit with and not look
quite so out on the prowl. I know it's sort of hard to imagine a guy in
a thin leather tie and topsiders to be on the prowl, but that's the way
it felt.
Friday night was good, but Saturday night was better. Maybe it's
because everybody got up late that day and they could party all night
and know that they could sleep late tomorrow too, but Friday was date
night and Saturday was no-date night at the bars where I hung out. I
had a regular little round going, first this place and then that one and
then the next, pretty much in the same order. Habit, I guess.
So this one night, right after I got my Subaru, I was making my regular
Saturday night rounds. Okay, so it wasn't a Corvette, but the Subaru
was the first car I ever had with a real stereo in it, and that wasn't
missing any hubcaps or anything. Funny how it increased my self-esteem
to be in a car that had all of its original quarter panels.
Back then these bars I went to charged admission because there was
dancing and pool tables and that sort of stuff. Each one had a little
stamp they used to put on your arm, with some stupid saying or a happy
face or like that. Sometimes I'd wake up on Sunday morning with these
dumb stamps up to my elbow. This Saturday night was like that, and I
figured I would wake up with them up to my elbow again the next morning
- alone, per usual.
A buddy had told me when I was in Harrison's or Houston's or Howie's or
whatever the name of the place was, that there was a new place in town
where the really wild girls went to pick up guys. I sort of doubted
that, as I found the concept of girls actually *looking* to get laid
improbable, but it was 2 a.m. and I didn't even have a phone number to
show for my evening's efforts, so I said what the hey, let's ride over
there and take a look. I had had a couple and he was just starting out
(who starts out an evening at 2 a.m.? I used to wonder) so he said he'd
drive. Sounded good to me, so off we went.
This place was called Sensations, or some other trendy name like that, I
really don't remember. It was in a shopping center, though, and I
thought that was pretty tacky. But, like I said, what the hey.
Man, this place was LOUD. There were a zillion people in there and I
started to sweat the minute I walked in the door. But, since I had paid
six bucks for the privilege of walking in that door in the first place,
I was determined to look around. I got a gin and tonic from the bar and
plowed into the crowd.
This bar was one of the more mixed sorts, I guess, because there were
the secretaries with the big hair I was used to, but there were also
women who looked suspiciously like they had five o'clock shadow, if you
know what I mean. There were the arty types too, they all had on stuff
that looked like rejects from a Bauhaus fashion show in 1931, coupled
with, of course, motorcycle boots. That was the girls. The guys were
all thin and pale and looked like when they ordered a drink they just
asked for O positive. I was about to tell my buddy that I was not
exactly impressed with the opportunities which this place presented,
when I happened to look a little to his left.
There was a girl there, standing with another woman and a guy. She was
sort of wincing every once in a while when a particularly loud boom
would come over the sound system, and while she held a drink in her hand
it was almost full. The two she was with were having a sort of
conversation, or as close to it as they could come over the music and
the noise, and this girl was sort of looking around, a kind of bored
smile on her face.
She had on some *very* nice tight blue jeans and a Hawaiian shirt -
women seemed to go for the John Nathan-Turner look that summer - and
these red snakeskin high heels. Even in those heels she was a little on
the short side, but that was okay. She had one of those slicked back
hair-do's that always make me think of Liza Minelli, but on her it was
cute. Sort of punkish. I've always been a sucker for a pretty face,
too, and hers was: sort of round, big brown eyes, a little nose - I
seem to always run to type, you know? Big tits. It was impossible not
to notice, because her shirt was open pretty far down. I guess she was
proud of them. Hell, I would have been, if she were my girlfriend.
There was a rail around the dance floor, to give people somewhere to
stand, I guess, and not look too out of it. I saw the girl and her two
companions move toward the dance floor and she slid into a space at the
rail while the others went onto the floor. Why not give it a whirl, I
thought, so I walked up to her and said hey.
She looked at me a little suspiciously for a moment, but at least she
said "hi" back. I had no idea what kind of voice she had, it was
impossible to hear anything so near to the speakers which were making my
internal organs do an involuntary polka. When you go to a lot of dance
bars you learn how to lip read pretty well.
I stood next to her for a moment and watched her drink her drink. It
was even hotter near the dance floor, I guess because of the lights; a
thin line of perspiration was on her upper lip, and the nape of her neck
was damp. Her shirt, which was just thin cotton, was beginning to mold
to her body in a really interesting way. Every once in a while she
would fan her face with her hand. She had pretty hands, sort of petite,
with short fingernails and rings on every finger.
"Would you like to dance?" I roared at her when a song started which I
liked. She looked at me with upraised eyebrows and I repeated the
question, but she smiled and shook her head, showing me her drink. I
smiled back and nodded, but tried once again.
"How about another drink and some talk?" I shrieked. She must have
been paying more attention to me this time, because she looked at me for
a moment and then nodded, gesturing for me to lead the way.
I took her free hand and squeezed it lightly, and led her away from the
rail and back to the bar by the door. She tugged at my hand then, and
led me down a short corridor into another part of the club, which seemed
to be filled with thousands of church bells ringing all at once.
Actually, it was relatively quiet in there; it was my ears that were
still thumping and bumping along.
"Wow." I said, rubbing the side of my head. "It seems so quiet in here
after being out there." I have never been the king of opening lines,
but at least this one had a little truth in it.
She gave a short laugh. "I like to dance to it, but sometimes it is a
bit much." She sat down on a bar stool and patted the one next to her.
"My name is Maggie."
I hoisted up onto the stool and held out my hand. "I'm Ben." I said.
She held out her ringed fingers and I folded them in my hand for a
moment. It was kind of awkward somehow, shaking hands with a girl at
two in the morning. It's hard to explain.
She ordered another drink - a Tom Collins or one of those kinds, which
is sort of like grown-up lemonade - and I had another gin and tonic. I
figured if my breath was going to reek, it could at least reek of pine
needles, which is what gin always smells like to me.
I paid for our drinks, not tipping the bartender too much because he was
looking like he was starving and Maggie was a chicken sandwich. I've
always mistrusted bartenders. I mean, they're already at a bar at work,
so when they get off they're right there. Bet they never sleep alone.
"Wanna go outside? It's kind of stuffy in here." Maggie said suddenly,
surprising me. I felt a little guilty, like she had read my unkind
thoughts about the bartender.
"Good idea." I slid from my stool. "You lead the way. I'm lost."
She smiled at me and walked toward a different door than we had entered.
In my best Sherlock Holmes style, I surmised she had been here before.
Every once in a while she would look back and smile at me, making sure I
wasn't getting lost in the crush of bodies, and every time she did I got
this feeling. I know this sounds egotistical and all, but I just got
the feeling that this was a girl who knew what she wanted, and right now
what she wanted was me.
The air outside was surprisingly fresh and cool after the smoke and
sweat of the bar. There were a lot of people milling about, some
looking for other people, some looking to make purchases of various
chemical or fleshly kinds. Maggie caught my hand and led me out into
the parking lot.
"Here's my car." She said, sitting on the hood of a dark brown Dodge
Daytona. She put those red snakeskin high heels on the front bumper,
her knees high and slightly parted, one palm flat for balance on the
curved metal beside her. What a show. I was impressed.
"Nice car." I leaned against the hood, very close to her, my side
touching her bent leg. She didn't move away.
"Thanks. I like to drive really fast sometimes." She shrugged. "I
guess I get sort of impulsive every once in a while. Do you?" She
looked at me with those big brown eyes for a moment and then took a sip
of her drink.
"I think I'm getting more impulsive all the time." I took a big gulp of
gin and almost choked on a stray ice cube. "You, um, live around here?"
"No, not really." She laughed and pointed at the tag on the front of
her car. The state we were in sure wasn't the Land of Lincoln.
"Oh. Heh."
"You know those two I was with in there? That's my sister and her
husband. I'm visiting." She shifted slightly and leaned back on her
elbows so that the opening in her shirt gaped wide. She was wearing a
black lace bra, and it made her tits look really white under the glaring
lamps of the parking lot. They looked round, like they would be just a
little soft to the touch. There was a lot of cleft there, and as I
stood there thinking about some interesting uses for it, I realized that
the old gallant reflex was starting to poke its head up, so to speak.
"I live with my uncle." I said after a moment, remembering that it was
my turn to say something. She seemed to look annoyed for just a moment,
and then sat up.
"Wanna go for a drive? Cool off a little bit?" She tugged at the
lapels of her shirt like she was trying to get some air down it. I
watched, fascinated. You gotta remember, this was a long time ago and I
was very young.
"That sounds great." She slid off the car hood and turned to walk to
the driver's door of the car. "Hey Maggie?" I called after her.
"Yeah?" She turned around and looked at me questioningly.
I put my drink on the hood, walked over to her and put my arms around
her. "You know, you have the most amazing face." I leaned forward and
gave her a slight peck on the lips.
That 'slight peck' didn't stay that way for very long, and I sure didn't
have to push either. Her mouth opened up and moved over mine, her
tongue between my lips before I had even registered that it was
happening. The feel of her cool lips against mine, and her hot tongue
in my mouth sent a sort of shock through my body, right down to my dick
which felt like it got hard instantly. I had never had a girl make the
first real move, you might say, and this time it was totally unexpected.
I had had my feelings, like I mentioned before, but this was not just a
feeling, it was a complete promise, all wrapped up in shiny paper and a
big ribbon. Happy birthday to me.
"Come on. Let's drive." She said, pulling away from me. She was
smiling.
I didn't know about her, but that was exactly what was on *my* mind,
only I didn't need a car for the kind that I was thinking about.
I slipped into the shotgun seat and looked at Maggie as she fiddled with
the stereo. I had never been in the situation before where I was with a
girl I knew wanted to have sex with me but we didn't do something about
it right away. This was weird, knowing that this girl was sitting
there, knowing I had a hard-on and wanting to get her to do something
about it, knowing that she would be showing me that black lace bra and
all it contained, and meanwhile she sat there and fiddled with the knobs
on her stereo. I hadn't had sex that much before, but a few times; it
had always been a sort of seamless episode from start to finish, from
the final "yes" to getting undressed and then actually getting down to
the dirty deed. I wasn't really sure how to react in this sort of
situation.
She was right when she said that she liked to drive really fast
sometimes, and this time seemed to be of them. She had the sunroof open
and all the windows down, and the air rushed into the car, whipping her
hair around. A strand curved across her face and lay ensnared between
her lips, which were slightly parted. The radio was up pretty loud and
I kept time to the music with the heel of my palm against the dash as I
watched the little turbo light pop on over and over as she really booked
it down the street away from the club. It was unbelievable, I thought,
to be riding in a car with a sexy girl at eighty miles an hour with a
drink in my hand and a hard-on in my pants. It just wasn't something I
had ever done before. I was pretty sure I could get used to it real
fast.
I must admit I was a little puzzled when she slowed and put on her
blinker. We were still in a wholly commercial part of town. She turned
the car into a restaurant parking lot and pulled into a garage,
completely dark except from the light which came from a streetlight on
the corner. She squealed into a spot and stopped, turning the key in
the ignition and letting the car die.
"Would you mind very much if I got naked?" She asked, the weirdest look
on her face. My eyes must have gotten really wide, because they sort of
felt like they had popped out part way.
"Here?"
"Yep. Here." And she meant it. She proved she meant it. Right there.
She sort of scooted up on one knee and faced sideways in her seat,
resting one arm on the steering wheel. She leaned over and kissed me,
another one of those really hot kisses. She took my tongue in her mouth
and sucked on it, which was totally new to me; it was like she wanted
me to fuck her mouth with it. She really got into kissing, and she was
good at it.
She sought out my hands, which were sort of lying in my lap, sort of
trying to hide the bulge which was all too obvious in my pants, sort of
trying to knead said bulge a little to keep my cock from exploding. Her
fingers traced the outline of my cock under my pants, and just the touch
of her hands left little burning trails behind. She pressed my hands to
her breasts through her shirt, and waited a moment before helping me
with the first button her blouse.
With her blouse open, she leaned back away from me. She held her chest
out proudly, nice creamy tits in that black push-up bra looking like the
tastiest thing in the world. "It opens in the front." She said. That
drove me wild, you know? I had never thought of a bra which might open
in the front. I bet a man designed that.
I reached forward, leaning over the stick shift. I was a little worried
about that sticking up between us, but when I sneaked a glance at the
backseat it didn't look much better back there. A Daytona may be
advertised as seating four adults, but two of those adults had better be
midgets.
The little clasp between the cups of her brassiere had a little golden
bumble bee on it. She had shrugged the shirt from her shoulders, it was
down around her elbows, making her seem uncovered as if by accident or
force. Her shoulders were back, as if presenting that little bumble bee
for me to catch. I did so. Her brassiere opened with a slight pop and
the cups moved apart, her breasts holding it in place. Her cleavage,
which had gone halfway up to her neck, shortened a little as her breasts
moved apart slightly, revealing the silky skin sprinkled with the
softest down in the world. I ran the side of my hand between her
breasts along the bone there, just feeling it. She seemed to like that.
I could see her nipples harden under the thin black lace still covering
them.
I took both of the cups of her bra and pulled them away from her
breasts, then slid the straps down from her shoulders. It fell down her
smooth arms to her elbows, joining her shirt; she straightened out her
arm and gave a kind of a little shake, and both fell down onto the seat
behind her. When she shook her tits quivered just a little. They were
not as big as I had thought, the bra had pushed them up and together,
but hanging free on her chest they were beautiful, full u-shaped ones,
showing white triangles of creamy white where her bikini had covered up
her large nipples, which were a pinkish tan.
She ran her hands under her breasts, lifting them up, almost pointing
them at me. The pounding in my pants was incredible. I shifted
uncomfortably.
"You like?" She whispered, still holding her tits for my inspection. I
didn't say anything, but leaned forward and planted a kiss on her right
nipple, taking it briefly in my mouth, sucking it between my teeth. I
heard her rings click together as she ran her hands through my hair.
"Let's get in the back." Her voice was already getting a little deeper,
a nice rasp coming into it.
I looked around, not sure just how we were supposed to get back there,
but I saw her open her door and leap out, push forward her seat and hop
back in, pulling the door closed behind her. I did the same.
I pulled her toward me and bit her neck lightly, tasting the slightly
salty skin. Her hands were tugging at my belt and her breathing in my
ear was sending a shiver down my spine. I helped her open the button on
my fly and she unfastened the zipper quickly, tugging at my pants. I
leaned back a bit and pulled both them and my underwear down to my
knees, but before I could go any further her head was in my lap and I
felt her lips slide over my cock. I think I must have gasped pretty
loud, because I heard her sort of giggle. I think she was pleased at my
reaction.
Her lips were tight around the shaft of my cock and her mouth was
incredibly hot and soft. Her tongue was squirming around the head, the
intensity of the feeling was almost unbearable. She had a hand around
the base, holding it tight like a sort of cockring, and it felt like my
dick was bigger than it had ever been. The combination of a woman
giving me head without being asked, and the tight grip on my shaft made
me rock hard.
I slipped my hand over the soft skin of her back, feeling the little
ridges where her brassiere had cut into her flesh a little. I had my
head thrown back, my eyes tightly closed, when I had first felt the head
of my cock slip between her lips, but now I forced myself to look at
her, the smooth expanse of her back, her slowly bobbing head, her ass
which was switching back and forth in time to her strokes. I quickly
closed my eyes again, afraid that I would go too far and come in her
mouth instantly. I figured she didn't want that, and I knew I didn't.
This was just too good. It had to last as long as I could stand it.
I've never been good at thinking about baseball or icebergs, especially
when I am having my cock devoured by an incredibly wanton female. Just
one of those things, I guess. God, it felt good. It wasn't my first
blow job or anything, but the first one where the girl had showed any
enthusiasm. She sucked my cock like she really wanted to make me come.
I was getting a little too close to actually doing that, so I put my
hands to her head and tugged gently upward.
She looked up and me and smiled, her lips glittering in the darkness. I
pulled her face to mine and kissed her. She broke away from me after a
moment and slipped her zipper down, and then her jeans. She was wearing
tiny black panties and those came off too.
I made a movement to pull myself over her, but she stopped me without a
word. She moved over me, a knee on each side of my legs, leaning over
so that her tits pressed against my chest, her head bent down to my
shoulder to avoid bumping into the roof of her sports car. I felt her
hand grip my cock and then the hot moistness of her cunt as it settled
down over me, all the way to the bottom of the shaft.
She was so hot, so smooth and soft; her muscles gripped my cock as she
lifted up slightly, pulling on it, and was then deliciously relaxed as
she settled back over it. Her back was arched and her tits were in
perfect reach for me to suck as she stroked up and down over my cock. I
had never done it this way before, me slumped in the seat just enjoying
the feeling of the lips of her pussy slide up and down, her nipples
erect in my mouth, her breathing getting heavier as her cunt got tighter
around me. I put my hand between her legs and looked down to see her
pretty pinkness flow over my hard cock. I pressed upward right inside
the opening of her outer lips, feeling for her clit with my finger. I
heard her moan and cut off a gasp, and I massaged the little fold I felt
there. Her cunt got tighter in waves and her thrusting was more
insistent, my hand following her as she rode on my cock. The inside of
her pussy was slick with her juices, and they flowed out around my cock
and onto my hand, making my finger slip easily over her clit. She held
her breath suddenly, my cock buried deep inside of her, and for a few
seconds she quivered, like she was concentrating. I flicked my finger
over her clit light and fast, and sucked hard on her nipple. Her cunt
was pulsing tighter and tighter. She drew in just a tiny sip of air
with a kind of groan and then I felt her contractions ripple along the
length of my cock as she came, the force so strong it pulled her clit
back and forth across my still hand.
She put her hands to my shoulders and started thrusting as hard as she
could. Sweat was standing out on her forehead; the muscles in her
thighs were hard as polished wood. I raised my hips on each stroke to
meet hers, my cock felt like it was twice as thick as her wet, tight
pussy grabbed on to it.
"Oh god, I'm gonna come." I growled out between breaths. I couldn't
take it any longer, my balls felt heavy, like they were steel. I
crushed her body to me and grabbed the cheeks of her ass as I felt it
start, rushing through me, my entire body aching for it. This seemed to
enflame her, she ground her hips down on me as hard as she could, and my
body jerked as my come flooded up into her. I came in spurts, her
movements drawing every drop out of me. I gritted my teeth with its
intensity, making that face that is impossible to mistake.
My feet felt cramped inside of my shoes, my entire body felt like it was
tied in knots. I relaxed slowly, shifting under her weight which had
felt so slight just a moment before.
"Hey, wow." Maggie pushed her short hair back behind her ears with both
hands. "Not bad." She laughed, a little breathy.
"Yeah." I grinned up at her, and she pulled upward, letting my cock
fall from her confines. "Not bad at all."
Maggie seemed completely unself-conscious, and I watched her with
interest as she wiped between her legs with her panties and then stuffed
them under the driver's seat. She twisted around and sat down beside of
me, reaching for her bra and shirt. She seemed to consider the bra for
a moment, and then shoved it into the shadows with her foot.
"I gotta get out to pull on my jeans." She said, and reached for the
door handle, giving me a great view of her ass. It had matching tan
lines to those on her breasts.
I took her hint and pulled up my pants, my knees digging into the back
of the seat in front of me as I tried to stretch out to zip them up. I
felt sort of sticky, but that was okay. It had been worth it. More
than worth it. Incredibly worth it.
She fired up the engine again after she was situated, the radio blasting
on when she turned the key. She sang along for a moment, turning once
or twice to smile at me as she pulled out of the parking lot.
She drove me back to where my car was. I pointed it out to her in the
deserted bar's parking lot; Harrison's or Houston's or Howie's had
closed long ago. She pulled up beside my little blue Subaru and put her
car in neutral.
"I, um, had a nice time." I said, wondering just how you go about
initiating a friendship after you've had sex.
"Great! Me too." She smiled another one of those smiles, very pretty
but not meaning much.
"Yeah, well. Maybe we can get together again?" I sort of doubted it,
but I figured it would be rude not to ask.
"I'm going back to Chicago next week..." She shrugged. "Maybe next
time I come for a visit, okay?"
"Sounds good." I reached over and pecked her lightly on the lips, but
unlike last time it remained just that. "See you later."
I got out of the car and walked over to my Subaru, putting the key in
the lock and watching her squeal tires out of the parking lot.
I sat behind the wheel of my car and tuned into the radio station she
had been listening to. For some reason I just wanted to hear it a
little bit longer, even if it wasn't what I usually listened to.
****
continued in part three
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