Chapter 20

I Love to Dance Almost as Much as I Love to...

Dear Diary:

Ummmm, just had to put a towel under me 'cause I'm getting so wet thinking about Bob while doing my toenails. Thinkin' Bob Metcalf, 'cause he's my No. 1 loverman, my stud muffin, my...

Shit! Knocked over the nail polish. What a mess!

Hmmm, the good feelings are still there after all that time cleaning up the polish. Now that's interesting! Bob, Bob, Bob, my heart is pounding just thinking about him. Thinking about his cock...

Let me count the ways I love his cock.

I love it in my hand; against my skin; on the edge of my tongue; its slickness between my tits; reaming into my gaping wet pussy; deep in my throat; slapping against my lips or nipples; covered with his cum; and up my ass. Did I forget anything?

Yes! I love having sex with him. He seems to come up with new ways to make me fuck crazy. To make me cum; and cum; and cum so many times it seems like forever.

Julie doesn't believe half the things I tell her about him. I mean, she has a zillion boyfriends. She fucks most of them too, but I don't recall her ever saying that one was considerate of her; talked earnestly with her; or listened, I mean, really listened to what she had to say and respected her thoughts and feelings like he does with me.

Well, he does all that and more. (Long sighs... while I diddle a little.)

I love the taste of his skin. I mean, a couple of other guys I've been with, well, I liked them too, don't get me wrong, but jeeze, his cum seems to have the sweetest taste while the others were kinda brackish, ya know? And we're both horny all the time. We've spent entire days doing each other, sometimes really kinky stuff too. Any day now I expect him to make me pick up some strange guy and fuck him while he watches. (A favorite fantasy.) Or, maybe he'll make me watch while he fucks some girl. MAYBE he'll make me find the girl for him or us! Wouldn't THAT be great?

Later...

The other night after screwing every which way for hours, he had me get on the Internet and talk with guys who are even hornier than I am. Didn't that turn me on! There I was, typing with one hand and fingering myself with the other while Bob slowly pulled on my nipples and stroked himself back into major league form. Afterward, I blew him!

Or like that one time he fucked me doggy-style while I typed out what we were doing to an audience of God knows how many at Bianca's Slut Shack. I got so hot I thought my aorta would burst.

"Sheeeeeittttt! Here I cum!"

"Nauuughh! Nauuughh!"

Can't writ no mor...

Dear Diary:

Bob called me last night (Friday) and told me to get ready in thirty minutes to "Go out and fuck the town." Whewie! Short notice, but in ten minutes I was horny enough to jump on the gearshift of his Beetle. I threw on a micro-mini and a Grateful Dead T-shirt, no bra, no panties, and a new pair of tennis shoes. Oh, yeah, perfume... love that stuff, and light makeup. No zits today, thank God.

Bob was on time (for a change) and slipped his hand up my skirt and sank a finger into my soppin' wet puss by way of greeting me. I clamped my thighs together and held him tight. He leaned towards me with a great big smile and struck his tongue out about four inches from my mouth. My tongue reached out to meet him and we dueled playfully for a moment before I drew him in to me.

Ummmmmm, he had this cinnamon taste on his tongue. Loved it! We took turns sucking tongue while his finger searched and found (Oh, he KNOWS where IT is!) my Gee, Gee, Geezusfuckin' Christ!

I scraped my knee by banging it hard against the dash as I bucked and twisted to an orgasm.

After Bob rubbed the hurt away, I reached over and unzipped his fly. His buoyant 8 incher sprang out and into my hand. I loved this part of our foreplay.

"Oh look at your tip, it's almost purple from being cramped up all day," I said, playfully using baby talk.

"Nah," said Bob, "I've aired him out a couple times today. There was this nanny pushing a baby carriage down 110th Street, and..."

"Never mind that now, give me a taste," I bent my neck and found him. "Ah, there, ummmmmmm." Serious slurping sounds. <Grin>

"I'll break your fuckin' neck, be careful with those teeth goddamn it!"

"I sorry, honey."

"That's all right baby. Oooooh, that feels good, Rachel. You're the best cocksucker I've ever known, ya know?"

"Ummmmmmm," (plop) "thanks."

Still holding his blood engorged head firmly in my mouth and sucking for all I was worth, I reached into my purse and located my hand lotion, opened it and managed to smear it the length of his precious cock.

Gripping him tightly, I ran my hand up and down his pride and my joy, squeezing and slowly stroking, still managing to lick and suck the tip.

Bob began to thrust his hips with that all too familiar urgency. He spun the car over to the side of the rode and let me finish him off. Although I swallowed most of his load, I managed to save some and rubbed it around my lips as if it were lipstick.

"You crazy cunt," he said, laughing at my antics. "I'm gonna fix your ass tonight."

My fingers were busy under my skirt already as I replied, "I can handle anything you dish out to me honey."

"We'll see," he said, his eyes were smiling lewdly at me.

"Uh, uh, uh, oooooh! Help me Bobby..." My fingers were flying.

"Comin' Bobby... I'm coming!"

"Go for it baby!" He shouted encouragingly, kneading and squeezing my tits through the T-shirt.

"Ahhhhhhhh! Oooh, jeeze!"

I was finding it hard to breathe.

"Oh! Oh! YES!" I came hard and slumped back into the seat satiated for the moment, mouth open, gasping for air.

One last kiss, then Bob got the Bug back on the highway and we continued on to the club.

We arrived at "The Panting Duchess" and were only in line for ten minutes before getting inside. To pass the time, Bob dry humped me from behind as we listened to the torrid beat of Latin music pouring out through the "Duchess's" doors.

Feeling hot, sexy, and ready for adventure, I walked passed the doorman wiggling my ass, and feigned surprise when he patted me on the ass as I passed by. Turning the wiggle up a notch, I sauntered into the club. It was new, and had attracted a young crowd. I doubted if most of them were old enough to drink. Hell, I wasn't yet. (Three weeks to go!)

The Panting Duchess" had a fabulous sound system, with a low, grumbling bass that made my clit throb. The lighting on the floor with the dancers was sensational while in the seating area it was gratifyingly low.

We moved to an opening at the bar and ordered vodka martinis from a fabulous looking bartender. I wondered why the hell these god-like Adonis' are always behind a bar? While I was pondering this, two stools opened up just as Adonis finished making our drinks. Bob sipped his and placed it on the bar. I tried mine and almost died. I guess I should stick to beer and wine. Bob told Adonis he made a great martini and in return he gave us a broad smile and left to serve another customer.

I turned away from Bob to take in the action on the dance floor.

I love to dance. I love dancing... almost as much as fucking. I look upon dancing as a prelude to lovemaking, a kind of foreplay. Bob will only do the slow dance, which is fine with me, but every once in a while I want to move, ya know?

Evidently my position on the barstool was revealing a little leg. Several guys close by were getting a good look up my skirt. Feeling sluttish, I spread my thighs wider and was rewarded with a couple wolf-whistles from a nearby booth with two couples sitting in it. They were all laughing and having a good time. The other guys kept staring, but said nothing. Typical male reaction.

After a couple numbers passed without Bob dancing with me, one of the whistlers asked Bob if I might dance with him. Bob nodded his assent and off we went. The guy was lean, with dark hair. He told me his name was Ernie. About 5' 10", wearing a dark red unbuttoned shirt and black leather pants--skin tight leather pants. He was dressed to dance, and he quickly proved he could.

The floor was crowded before the Mambo ended and I used the opportunity to grind my lower body against him. Ernie responded by poking me with his hardon. I loved it!

I whispered in his ear that I'd love to dance a slow number with him and he promised he'd be by for the next one. I danced with several other guys and was on my second martini before a slow dance came up. I found myself seemingly floating high and giddy in no time at all. Bob just sat and grinned at me. Oh, he was enjoying himself too, don't get me wrong. While I was dancing he renewed acquaintance with one of the waitresses. I noted his hand all over her ass while I was dancing a cha-cha. Her eyes were on me waiting for my reaction. I smiled at her to let her know I didn't mind and she seemed to relax. Then the cha-cha ended and a slow dance began. Almost as if in a dream Ernie was standing next to me, his hand extended to take mine.

He pressed in against me; we stood still, sealed against each other, not dancing at all. His leg deftly moved between mine in rhythm with the music. I was close to coming as I felt his heart and hardon throbbing in tandem against me. He dropped my hand and moved to my breast, which he cupped, then kneaded while his thumb searched for my nipple. His other hand clenched the cheek of my ass at first, then finding the cleft between them, pushed a finger into my ass. I gasped in shock.

"What the fuck?"

"Stop it. You love it," he whispered and emphasized the statement by grinding his hardon into my groin. I was silent and accepted this treatment, hoping Bob would not be provoked into a fight. Gradually, Ernie steered us into a darkened corner.

"Take it out, why don't you," he said through clenched lips.

"Take what out?" I asked, my flirting eyes smiling at him.

"My prick. Don't you want to have it inside you?"

"Here," I asked incredulously, "on the fuckin' dance floor?"

"Done it before." He smiled at me. "No one's the wiser. Even if someone catches on, they don't give a shit. They'll watch and enjoy it, maybe tip their girl off so's they both watch us."

"I dunno about that, my boyfriend might get pissed."

"Not from where I'm standing baby," he said squeezing my nipple between his fingers.

I shivered. Jeeze it felt good. I looked over at Bob, he'd moved away from the bar with the waitress to a vacant booth. She was jerking him off and he was sucking on her tit.

Emotions raged within me. Was I jealous? No. What then?

I realized I was hot and horny. I didn't care if Bob was fucking her under floodlights with the crowd cheering. I wanted a cock in me too.

Turning to face Ernie, I said, "How do you want to do this?"

"I'll sit down on that chair there. You sit on my lap after I've got my size ten whopper out. All you gotta do is to sit on it."