Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Mustard on His Tie

He was going to wear the purple tie with his lavender shirt.  The one with the tiny stars on it.  He had the whole ensemble planned in his mind.  Grey suit, lavender shirt, purple tie.  The color beneath adding interest to the chalk-striped charcoal suit.  Showing confidence and perhaps a bit of surprise. 

As he reached for the tie, he saw it.  A line of drip marks running down the bottom half of the tie.  And he recalled the reason.  Mustard.  He'd ordered two junior cheeseburgers at Wendy's one night a couple weeks ago and mustard had dripped on his tie.  Luckily, not on his shirt.  He'd used water and a napkin to alleviate the stain.  He'd hung the tie on the rack and forgot about the incident. 

Until now.  The stained tie messed up his morning.  He had to reconfigure his clothes on short notice.  Simple white shirt, blue tie with the grey suit now. 

And the stains had also reminded him of that evening.  One he took turns remembering well and trying desperately to forget.

Her posting told him she was at a local college.  Suggested she was interested in a "mutually beneficial" arrangement.  Mentioned she preferred older men.

His response suggested he'd never done this before (which he hadn't) and that he was nervous, but interested in learning more.

Her reply was encouraging, short, and asked him for a photo.  He obliged and in her response, she noted her appreciation for his dark eyes and her admiration of his lovely eyelashes.  He smiled inside, possibly his lips moved as well.  He could see from the photo on the site that she was cute and young, but wanted to see more of her, get a clearer image.

He requested that she send more photos.  She replied by asking what kind he'd like.  And in another moment, sent him five pictures.  One of her face, quite lovely and round-ish, hazel eyes and reddish hair.  One of her in bra and panties, shot so that it accentuated her healthy breasts.  A photo of her and half of another girl at what must have been Senior Prom.  And a full-length pose of her in a mirror -- completely nude, body smooth and in rather nice shape. 

This was her second semester in college and she really needed some help and also thought it'd be nice to spend some time with a man who would make her feel good. 

The next morning, he emailed her and asked about her evening.  He had a good reason to be home late and had found a reasonably priced hotel near her campus.  She was available, she said.  He told her the time and the place and gave her his phone number so she could text him if there was a problem.

He felt a sense of excitement and arousal.  As he went about his day, he referenced their email exchange.  Admired her pictures. 

He left work exactly on time and drove straight to the hotel near the interstate.  He had cash ready and asked for the room.  He paid and walked out into the dreary, gray evening.  Her aging green car pulled into the lot just as he hit the sidewalk.  She looked at him and he at her and they knew.  She got out of the car and he met her on the sidewalk.  They exchanged names to be sure. 

He wore a grey suit and purple tie.  Dark rimmed glasses framed the dark eyes she had admired.  Her hair was a deep red and hit just below her shoulders.  Her smile was cautious and she seemed shy, but certain.  She followed him up the stairs and they took a left.  The view from the room was of a busy interstate and it was rush hour.  She noted that this would be a horrible place to be if someone was actually planning to sleep. 

They talked for a moment. Just the basics.  How was school? How was work? He removed his dress shoes and coat, took off his tie.  She wore a dark sweater over jeans.  Her body was not too thin and her curves were evident and appreciated.  He placed his watch on the nightstand.  Unbuttoned his shirt.  As he removed his suit pants and placed them with his coat, she lifted the sweater over her head, placing it on a table... He admired her there -- dark bra, jeans, soft skin.  And begin to relax a bit, to feel aroused. 

She stepped out of simple black flats and took off her jeans. 

They met on the King bed.  He in boxer briefs and white t-shirt, she in bra and panties.  She leaned in and he met her, their kiss tentative. Then a second one.  And another.  And her desire, her hunger to be kissed was clear.  Almost desperate.  It was as if she needed his touch, his lips, his mouth more than she needed anything else.  He hadn't been kissed with such passion in a long, long time.  It felt amazing to be wanted, needed, hungered for. 

His hands found her flesh...her legs, her nicely curved ass, moving up to her breasts.  Her hands simply held onto his face, relished his kiss, his caress.  She celebrated every single touch from him.

He leaned back against the headboard, legs out and she straddled him, taking off her bra in the process.  His lips tasted the warm, dark pink skin of her nipples and her moan of satisfaction told him to keep on.  He caressed her breasts with lips and tongue, his mouth dancing on her skin.  Tongue between her breasts...up to her shoulder, her collarbone, devouring the sweet, soft taste of her.  Their lips met again, this time on fire.  He pulled her body to him, let her feel the heat and hardness of his desire.  Cotton and lace kept them apart, but their bodies craved connection.  He reached under her panties and felt warmth and moisture and wonder.  A finger against her clit, then easing inside her warm folds. 

She knew she wanted him.  Wanted to feel the pressure and heat of a man inside her.  And this man -- with his enchanting eyes and passionate kisses -- this man would please her like she hadn't been pleased in some time.

Her hand rubbed plunged beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and fingers deftly found their way around a throbbing cock.  Stroking him, she urged him out of the top... and her entrance where his finger was playing touched his hardness.  She pushed him against her clit, her wetness. 

She kept stroking him with one hand as she eased back, used the other hand to remove her panties.

Her eyes looked up at him as her lips found the head of his member.  She tasted the salty flesh, licked and teased. 

He moved toward her center and let soft kisses land on her breasts, her stomach, and found her smooth, beautiful mound.  Tasted her pink folds, tongue touching the fiery clit as she moaned, her mouth still on him.  He was between her legs completely now, all on her.  Licking, tasting, relishing the taste and sweetness. 

Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. She begged.  I want you to fuck me. 

And he pulled his boxer briefs off and tossed them in the direction of his suit.  His body positioned against hers, they kissed again as his hand guided his cock inside.  He felt her pull him in further.  She lay back on the bed and he thrust inside.  He could not remember the last time he'd been inside a woman.  And certainly even then, there wasn't this much desire. 

He was fully inside her now, his hand on her breast, his lips on her body, her lips, her shoulder.  Her arms around his waist, pulling him inside.  He looked at her and asked if he could cum inside her.  She smiled and said yes.  He kept thrusting, not wanting to stop.  He knew she hadn't cum and wanted her too.  Getting her off was what got him off.  He was too close now and began fucking her faster, harder. Watching her eyes as he did what he needed, craved, wanted.  With a deep thrust, their bodies were as close as possible... He felt a surge of pleasure from the base of his dick to the tip.  Felt a thrust, an explosion.  She could feel it, too.  His head grew larger, harder and he pushed inside even further, grinding against her.  One, two, three more thrusts.  Then a release.  And he held himself there, kissed her lips.  Smiled and admired her smile. 

He let himself fall out of her and they basked for a moment in the heat and pleasure.  His lips found hers again, and her passion was hotter than ever.  With a finger, he pushed his semen deeper within her heavenly folds.  Pulled the finger out and tasted their juices mixed -- let her have a taste.  Then his head was between her legs again and he was feverishly licking, sucking, tasting all of her.  His tongue pressed inside her as much as it could, then along her folds, licking her sweetness and the tartness of his own semen.  Relishing the salty, wonderful flavor of their encounter.  One finger inside.  Two fingers, up and against the wall of her vagina.  Tongue working quick circles on her clit as her moans grew louder and her body tensed up.  Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck she kept saying.  And he felt himself slightly aroused again in spite of having just released the best orgasm he'd had in the past year. 

He didn't stop, and her hands were in his hair, pulling it tight, urging him into her as if his entire head would fit inside her.  He licked more urgently as he detected her getting close.  Licked and pushed and fingered and rubbed all in rhythm with her breathing.  She came and came hard.  He kept licking to taste her and licked around the edge of her entry.  Withdrawing his finger, he placed a hand against her cheek. 

Face to face, they met.  Smiled.  Just smiled for a bit. She told him that no one had ever done that to her.  She'd never had an orgasm with a guy.  She loved sex, but she'd always cum on her own.  He smiled and assured her he'd love to do it again sometime. 

They talked and he asked her how she felt.  She was fine, she assured him.  He realized he needed to leave and he went to the bathroom to pee.  He wiped himself with a towel and walked out, t-shirt, socks, and flaccid penis available for this woman he'd met just 90 minutes before to see.  She used a towel to clean up, put her clothes on as he put his on.  All except for the tie. 

He handed her an envelope and walked her downstairs to her car.  They hugged and kissed and hugged again.  And he walked back up the stairs, watching her car leave the parking lot. 

He opened the door, walked to the bathroom.  Wiped his face with soap and a rag.  And did it again.  And one more time.  Washed his hands three times.  Fixed his tie back in place and looked around. 

As he left, he knelt on the floor next to the bed and a tear came to his eye.  She had needed what they had done.  Had needed the touch possibly more than the money.  And he need it, too.  But he'd never imagined it would come to this for him. 

He thought a cheeseburger (or two) with onions would further hide the smell and he could go straight to the shower after a long day.  He walked into Wendy's and ordered two junior cheeseburgers with no pickle.  As he was eating the second one, mustard dripped onto his favorite purple tie. 

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