I first saw her as she walked from her car towards the supermarket.
She was hard to miss, especially in broad daylight. I was parked two rows away and she walked into the Harris Teeter store about twenty steps ahead of me, her tight ass swaying back and forth in her tiny, designer-label jean miniskirt.
The skirt was very short, but the rest of her attire just added to her ultra-sexy look, especially at 2PM on a Tuesday, heading into a grocery store. The muscles in her legs had added definition from the cowgirl-style boots she wore.
The brown leather boots were fashion boots, not Freys. They were nearly knee-high and had 5″ tapered heels that ended in pencil-sized stiletto tips. The pointed toe of the boot, functionally used to spur a horse, was accented with stainless steel toe caps that matched the bottom two
inches of the heels. The boots were clearly worn with the purpose of roping in a man by showing off a great pair of slim, toned legs, not to ride western style and rope steers with. Her coltish, deeply tanned legs rose up out of the knee-high boot cuffs and disappeared much later at the hem of her frayed and weathered-look jean mini skirt.
Clearly, the skirt was purchased with the worn spots and simulated wrinkle-wash pattern manufactured into the color, making the skirt look both worn and new. The low-rise skirt skimmed her hips, sitting low on her body and combined with the tied top, it served to accent her long, slim waist and stomach. Sitting so low on her hips, her waist and hipbones were bare, the skirt also ended quickly once it was past her firm ass.
The hem was tight on her thighs, a good deal of stretch denim was designed into the garment, allowing the skirt to be stretched skin tight over her ass like a drumhead stretched over a frame. The skirt stopped just an inch or two below the gentle bottom curve of her little bum. She probably weighed ninety-five or a hundred pounds and I guessed that she stood 5′ 1″ after subtracting the shoes. Those boots added five inches, maybe a shade more, and from my vantage point behind her as she walked into the grocery store, she had the hip-swing strut, putting each heel in front of her toe and driving her hips back and forth as she walked into the refrigerated air of the market.
It was 98 degrees that day and her top was a little pink bikini top with a see-through white blouse over it, half sleeve and tied tightly just below her bikini in a knot. The shirt was made short and with two tails that were intended to be tied in a knot under the bust. Her bikini top was a bright pink color, smallish triangles, but not tiny little strips of cloth, and looked to be well fitted to her frame, hugging her A+ or B- cups.
To the casual observer, her outfit could have been seen as summer fun, maybe accidentally provocative. It had that “thrown-together” look to the untrained eye. But there was other information that pointed to a different conclusion. I recognized the outfit for what it really was, the carefully planned look of a girl who loved and sought male attention. The whole outfit screamed ‘sex-kitten’. For one thing, her make-up was perfect, freshly glossed, pink lips that shined in the bright lights of the supermarket, and her eye-makeup was heavy on the mascara with pink eyeshadow and a tasteful, but generous use of eye-liner.
Second, her western-style leather bag, her arm bangles and big hoop earrings suggested she was fully accessorized for her outing, not an unplanned run to the supermarket for chips and drinks. Rather than accidentally provocative, her outfit was carefully planned to achieve a certain look. Combined with the odd hour of 2PM on a Tuesday, I knew that the way this girl dressed suggested that this girl was a little out of the ordinary.
I went into the store a moment after her, I had planned on grabbing some beer for tonight but that could wait. As I walked in through the sliding glass doors, I created a plan of action on the spot. It was simple, but most good plans are. I wanted to take this girl out and I would use the direct approach and try to compliment her on an aspect of her outfit, and ask her out, ideally for dinner tonight. My guess was that she was dressed up because she was looking for a man rather than dressed up for her boyfriend.
I found her shopping in the refrigerated section with a plastic carry-basket on the floor and selecting yogurt flavors. As I approached, she picked up two from the chest-high shelf and bent over at the waist to place them into her almost empty crate. She practically bent in half, keeping her knees locked as she put the items into the basket on the floor. She definitely had heard me approach, my leather-soled, cap-toe shoes making lots of noise on the hard, polished cement floors covered with a thin film of linoleum.
Had I been directly behind her, rather than sideways to her, I know I would have seen the bare curve of the bottom of her ass and her panties as she bent over. The move was provocative and intentional, girls in tiny, stretch-denim miniskirts don’t bend over at the waist at the grocery store unless it is on purpose.
“Very Nice! What kind of yogurt is that?” I asked as I came up on
her halfway down the isle.
“Oh… Um Dannon.” she replied, a little surprised that I engaged her in conversation as she looked over at me approaching. She chose to ignore the ‘very nice’ comment.
“What flavor?” I asked, knowing from a glance at the label that she had two cherry and two peach.
“Cherry.” she said smiling.
“Mmmm, cherry is my favorite. I like the fruit at the bottom kind. I love dipping in and stirring it all up slowly to get the sweet cherry flavor mixed up. That’s half the fun.”
“Hmmmm. You make eating yogurt sound better than it really is.” she said.
“Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?” I asked, getting to the point and being direct.
She studied me for a moment. I could tell she was sizing me up. She saw a clean-shaven guy, short, gel-styled brown hair, green eyes, well-tailored business suit, good looking, athletic, slim build, tall, older than her, two decades older probably. “Maybe, but I don’t know you at all.”
“That is what my dinner invitation is for. To get acquainted. I’m Mike. I’ll pick you up at 6:30 if that’s ok. What is your address?”
“I have Bump.” she said, pointing to the iPhone on my hip.
“Cool, so that is a ‘yes’ I take it.”
“Um… Yes, I guess it is.” she said smiling and absentmindedly twisting a highlighted piece of her brown hair on her index finger.
“What kind of food do you like?” I asked.
We opened our iPhones and bumped, it took 20 seconds. The name Tamara King popped up. Her number, address and email were now in my contact list.
I Iooked up from my phone. “Tamara, So how do I get to…?”
She laughed quickly. “It’s Tammy, unless I was being grounded, then it was Tamara Leigh. I live a few blocks away, on Grand. The Grand Summit apartments. Know where it is? 2101 Grand, apartment 316.”
I nodded. I knew it well, mostly college students lived there.
“What kind of food is your favorite?” I asked.
“Surprise me. Really anywhere with a real table cloth and white napkins will be a treat. I’m a student and I don’t get many nice dinners out.”
She said it smiling and showing me her perfectly white teeth all lined up, probably with braces attached by some sadist/orthodontist. She had a very pretty face to go with her rockingly tight, slim ‘spinner’ body.
“Anything you don’t eat?” I probed, making sure she wasn’t a vegetarian or allergic to shellfish.
“I don’t want pizza, other than that, anything. I like meat. Sorry, meant to say steak.” she said laughing. “Really, I meant steak.” making her faux pas even more funny.
“Meat it is. See you at 6:30.” I turned to go, my goal complete.
“Wait, how nice of a place…?” she asked, suddenly looking a little unsure.
“Wondering what to wear? I asked.
“Yes, but how did you…” she started to ask
“It’s what girls always wonder.” I looked her up and down slowly, carefully, deliberately. “Dress to be noticed, let me see your best stuff.”
She smiled comfortably at what was clearly a mutually understood challenge. She knew I was referring to her current attire also.
“I think I can do that.”
“I’m sure you can pull it off again.”. I said, “You look delicious in that skirt.” I ventured, hoping she would appreciate the compliment.
“Thanks, I do try.” she said as she waved.
“See you at 6:30..”. I said pleasantly.
I walked away, hit the beer isle and paid for two six packs of Imperial Lager, then walked to the car. As I drove past the entrance of the market, Tammy strutted out with a reusable grocery bag on her arm, iPhone pressed to her ear, animatedly talking to someone. I took a guess and imagined she was telling someone about her sudden plans tonight.
It was 8:00 PM and we were comfortable. Tammy sat next to me in the large black leather-upholstered booth, sipping a glass of wine as we waited for our steaks to arrive. We were in one of the nicest steak restaurants in the city, the steaks were $40 each, add a few shared sides and the tuna tartare appetizer and the bill would top $120 before wine and the cocktail we started with at the bar. It was worth it so far. Tammy was delightful, fun, provocative and incessantly flirty, she was constantly touching my arm as she told me about school, her roommates, past boyfriends and her upbringing. A junior, she was just under 21, but before I ordered two cocktails at the bar before we were sat, she assured me with a soft whisper in my ear that she had a “bulletproof fake ID”. No one asked for it tonight, not in here.
I had expected her to dress sexy, I was pleased to see that she didn’t disappoint. When she stepped down the stairs of her little apartment, I smiled. Her satin bustier had a white and black snakeskin pattern and was front buckled, leaving tiny gaps of skin visible between each eyelet and hook. The bustier top was tied tightly in back, crisscross style and further accented her tiny waist and slim body.
A white pashmina shawl hung over her shoulders, but didn’t obscure the view of her perky, pushed-up tits. Paired with a black leather mini with a prominent chrome back zipper running the length of the back of the skirt, she was showing every possible inch of her slim legs. Her hold up stockings were black and sported a herringbone type pattern before disappearing into her white, patent leather 6″ heeled ankle-boots with 1″ platforms.
Her clutch purse was white satin and she had kept her hair down, but put some curl and bounce in it. Make-up similar to this afternoon was applied, but with a more “evening look” touch, heavier on the mascara, liner and darker shadow,
going quickly from pink to charcoal. She also had applied shimmer powder to her shoulders and cleavage. Shiny gloss over a deep pink lipstick colored her lips. She had lips that were neither thin nor fat DSLs, just enough substance to have good color on them, but not so large as to look out of proportion to her face. They looked quite inviting as she talked and the color and gloss caught the lights and shined on her face.
Now in the booth and drinking a very nice bottle of Stags Leap Cabernet, no one would ask for an ID. She squeezed my arm as the sides and entrees were brought. “I love a good steak.” she said
“I thought you loved meat.” I teased.
She looked at me. “That too.” and then that half smile followed by a pursed lips air kiss.
“Oh, look how thick they are! I love my steak thick.” she said as she looked at me and gave my arm a stroke with her French-tipped nails. I didn’t remember them from earlier.
“mmmm, I’ll bet!” I said, playing along.
“Did you have French tip nails this morning?” I asked as I felt her raking her long nails along my wrist.
“Yes, but they were shorter, I had them done this afternoon, for my big date.” she added with a quick laugh.
I cut into my steak, the prime beef was tender and very pink inside.
“Pink and juicy, just the way I like it.” I said softly into her ear.
“Mmmm, bad boy. Eating the pink.” she said and giggled.
“Ok, that’s enough, let me enjoy this.” she said and carved off a serious bite with her oversized wooden-handled steak knife.
I looked down, her white napkin and white tablecloth obscuring the view I had of her black patterned stockings as they disappeared into her tiny leather skirt. I sat and ate my steak, assuming that I would get a good feel of her stocking clad thighs after dinner was cleared
from the table.
I refilled her wine glass as we ate in near silence other than the discussion about the flavor of the New York steak I had ordered versus the Hanger steak she was enjoying. She definitely could eat and enjoyed her steak and the sauteed mushrooms and mashed potato sides as she marveled at the aged, prime beef cooked medium rare and bursting with tender, dry-aged flavor of prime steak. I fed her a few bites of my New York cut and she fed me a few bites of her Hanger steak, both of us agreeing that the steaks were outstanding.
As our steaks slowly disappeared, our conversation resumed a bit, and after she had finished nearly two thirds of the enormous steak, she put her knife and fork down and pushed her plate towards the side. She paused and moved her hand towards me and stroked the underside of my forearm with her long nails and said,
“Thanks for introducing yourself at the market and taking me out, I can’t remember when I had a better dinner. I want to take the last bit home, I don’t want to feel too full.” She placed her napkin on the table after dabbing the corners of her mouth.
“I’ll be back. I need to freshen up.” she said as she scooted left and rose from the booth to go to the ladies room.
I watched her walk away from the table and towards the back of the restaurant. I looked around and saw three other guys steal looks at Tammy’s ultra-tight leather skirt and her stocking-clad, slender legs perched on her Guess-label white booties. When dating, I usually moved rather slowly, not trying to bed a girl on the first few dates, but my plan tonight was different, I planned to see how far young Tammy would let me go. I already knew I would be asking her out again and so it didn’t matter to me if she tried to play hard to get tonight or behaved badly.
She returned a few minutes later and slid back into the booth, moving up right next to me and putting her hand on my arm. I turned to face her and told her that every man in the restaurant had watched her walk to and from the girls room.
“Mmmm, did you watch too?”. She purred
“Of course I did. When I wasn’t watching the guys checking you out.” I said smiling
“Good, cause I put a little extra bit of wiggle in it just or you.
How’d it look?”
“How’d what look?” I said teasingly.
“My ass. The little leather skirt clinging to my bum. The patterned stockings on my skinny legs. My little white booties. Remember, you said to dress to be noticed. How’d I look as I walked away?” she cooed.
“Hot, very hot.” I said, knowing what she wanted to hear.
“And when I walked back, what did you notice?”
“Your legs and this top.” I said as I slid my hand directly up the eye-hooks of the bustier “The pattern of your stockings and the way it all goes together. You look hawt.” I said, emphasizing the “w” in the slang word.
“Mmmm, that’s better. I thought I might have disappointed you since you didn’t say much about my outfit earlier.”
“I was saving my comments for after dinner.”.
She put her face closer and I turned and moved into kiss her lips, she opened her freshly glossed lips and leaned into kiss me as her hand found the inside of my bicep and caressed it as I slid my mouth tight to hers and slipped my tongue into her mouth, gently probing. She fought back with her tongue, playing a little game of tongue tag in the space of our mouths. After a minute or more of deep, wet, satisfying kissing, we paused and she snuggled her head up into my shoulder,
“mmmmm, a very good kisser. I thought you would be, but you never know till you kiss.” she murmured into my shoulder. I pulled my arm around her tiny frame and pulled her tight.
“Ready for dessert? Or should we go listen to a band?”
“I’ll bet desserts are yummy here. But I’m full.” she said. I ordered one ‘Death by Chocolate” to go and asked for our bill. We soon headed out, my hand around her waist as she carried her dessert and some of dinner in a bag filled with three ‘to-go’ containers.
The jazz group was tight as they played to a half-filled room of Tuesday night regulars at Jimmy’s and we had two drinks while the band played their first set. Tammy sat close and by the end of the set, she was practically in my lap. She had moved closer and closer to me during the set and had stretched a leg over my knee twenty minutes ago, creating a not-so-small gap between her thighs that I ran my hand along.
I wasn’t rubbing her kitty, but my hand had been there a few times since she shifted positions. Each time I touched her silky, moist thong and her slick lips lightly, she squeezed my arm and wiggled her hips slightly. I knew she wouldn’t protest in the slightest if my hand settled in between her thighs and fingered her wet sex, but I knew the teasing approach would work just as well and keep her more on edge.
When the band took their break, we paid up and headed out to the car. The car now smelled of steak and chocolate. After pushing her up against the car door, I told her just how hot and delicious she looked before I kissed her lips and pressed up against her small frame.
She could feel my pole tenting my pants as I pressed into her. We kissed, more like made out wildly and then I stopped and helped her into the passenger seat. Once I was in, I looked over and saw her slim thighs parted a few inches as she sat and I started the car, pulled out of the space and put my hand on her upper thigh, just a few inches from her now soaked panties. I slid it up to her creamed, wet thong and ran my finger along the silky material.
“Gonna take these off for me?”. I said.
“Noooo, god! Ummmm, maybe.” she said as my fingers found her swollen bud and I began to lightly circle her clit with my index. “Fuck! It feels good! Please don’t stop, I wanted you to touch me more in the club.”
“Gonna slip them off then?” I asked as she squirmed about on my fingers.
“UhhhHmmm.” she said, lifting her ass off the seat and pulling on her little white thong until it slid down her slim thighs. She left it around her ankles as she sat back down and spread her knees open, eager to feel my fingers as they began to finger her tight, young slit.
“You must think I’m a slut.” she panted as I slid my fingers deep into her hole.
“Are you?” I said, sliding my fingers out of her box and gave her slick lips a pat.
“No… I’m not easy.” she said right before I slipped my finger deep along her cleft and then slid it back inside her hot, tight slot.
“Not easy? You don’t always let guys play with your pussy on the first date?”
“No… Never. Just tonight. You don’t believe me.” she said panting.
“Not really.” I said, but actually hearing the truth in her voice.
“If you’re not easy, then why are my fingers in your sweet little cunt?” I slid my finger out and pushed two into her juicy slit, making her groan and hump down onto my hand.
“Your confidence, you wanted me the moment you walked up to me in the grocery store. And at dinner, you got me buzzed and so horny. I’m not a slut. Ohhhh, feels soo good!” she added.
“But you are naughty, aren’t you, bending over in the isle as I walked up. This outfit and your stilettos… You like being naughty, don’t you?” I said as I pulled her head to my shoulder.
“Uh huh… I like to tease. I like attention. Fuck, you make my pussy feel so good.”
“You mean your cunt?” I said sweetly
“Uh huh.” she said loudly, squirming against the two fingers deep inside her tight little box.
“Say it. Where does it feel good?”
“I don’t say that word.”. She panted. I pulled my fingers from her slit.
“Put em back in… In… In my cunt. Please?” she whined. She didn’t have to worry, my fingers slid right in the moment I heard “cunt” roll off her lips.
“Good girl. Say it again.” I said. Tell me where you like my fingers.”
“I like ’em in my wet little pus, ah cunt.” she said correcting herself as she felt my fingers start to slide out of her box. “My cunt feels sooo good. It sounds so naughty to call it ‘my cunt’.”. I slid my fingers in and out as she talked, legs spread as I drove down the streets from downtown towards both her house and mine.
“Where does your cunt want to go? Your apartment or my house?” I said.
“My roommates are home… Oh god!” she clenched down on my fingers and started to cum, her orgasm taking hold of her body and making it shake and convulse. She stopped talking, just panting and squeezing my fingers uncontrollably.
After it subsided, she said, “fuck, fuck, fuck!!! That was good. Soo good. My pussy… My cunt was on fire. I wanna go… to your place, but I have 8 o’clock class. I can’t miss. Fuck! I want your cock so bad now. I need it! But I can’t stay over and miss class, it’s Spanish.”
“I’ll take you home then.” I said, hiding my disappointment well.
“thanks… Can I kiss you?” she said, reaching for my lap. Can I kiss your big cock for you? I promise you can fuck my pussy, ahhh, my cunt next time. And you can fuck my mouth right now.” she said as she freed my raging erection from my pants and pushed her tightly pursed lips down over the tip, taking me tightly into her warm, wet mouth.
Of course I was disappointed to have to postpone ramming her wet little pussy with my now-aching cock-hammer, but i almost forgot about that as Tammy got into her self-appointed task of draining my balls with her pretty mouth.
Now I did the talking as Tammy’s young mouth got busy on the head of my 44 year old cock. Tammy might not be a slut, but she knew how to use her mouth on a guy’s meat-pop. Her head bobbed in my lap steadily as I drove back to the Grand Summit complex. I pulled up into a space near her apartment and she didn’t stop her assault on my cock.
In the streetlight illumination, I could see her big, dangling earrings reflect the yellow/orange light from the streetlamps as she gobbled on my aching cock. Once I parked and could watch her head bob in my lap, she started talking again between sucks and licks of my cunt-pounder.
“mmmmm, you’ve got a yummy cock, feels so good in my mouth, I can’t wait to feel you jet info my throat. I love to swallow! Promise to fill my mouth with sticky cream? Giving head like this feels so sexy. I’ve been sucking cocks in cars since I was 15. I love giving “road head”, my pussy tingles because we might get caught.”
She was talking in between twenty second stretches of pure, lustful cock-sucking and she could feel my balls tighten.
“Let Tammy have your cum, baby, coat my tonsils with cream, cum deep in Tammy’s hungry little mouth, and give me your sweet load. I’ll take you deep in my throat and you cum for Tammy.”.
She played with my balls and sucked the tip until I was ready, then she did what she promised and swallowed my cock to the root and I felt her tonsils on the tip of my cock. I was past the point of stopping and unloaded into her throat, coating the back of her throat and her tonsils with a few days worth of thick semen. She took it like a champ, keeping her mouth down deep on the base of my cock until the last shot was fired, then smiling as she swallowed the jism down into her belly.
“Yummy! And you now have one fuck-date with me.” she said smiling. “I had a great time! And thanks for my cream dessert.”
We consulted our iPhones and made plans for our “fuck-date” and buttoned and tucked in the clothes that were hanging out everywhere.
A few minutes later, I walked her to the door.