breasts – full, large, unbelievable breasts. There's so much
to see and not least of which is the dress she's wearing.
It's red. Low cut at the top. High cut at
the bottom. I'm drunk and there are strobe lights blinding me from
the dance floor nearby, but I would swear...
No , I would guarantee ...
… that is the same dress my ex-girlfriend
wore only 2 weeks ago on the day that she left me for Brad Harris,
popular football star and a massive trade up from a regular Joe
like myself.
I size her up. In the background there's my
friends howling at each other about something or another. Beer
glasses clonk on the table at times. Women laugh and cry out on the
dance floor in the heat of their gyrations and flirtations.
Yet...
Is it that time stopped or I stopped?
All I can see is her.
Red
dress , I wonder, who the heck are you because you look EXACTLY like her – just
more... I don't know... older?
I stand up. My friend Jock looks up from his
conversation, but doesn't say anything. He goes back to talking and
I start wobbling my way forward. Walking when as plastered as I am
is quite a feat.
I stop beside her.
She glances my way.
My eyes open wide.
Hers stay the same.
You see, it's not my ex-girlfriend – that is
certain – but she looks a lot like her. A LOT like her. I
stare.
The woman's lips move. It's too loud to hear
anything. I smile and make the gesture for a drink. She smiles and
my dick hardens. Those tits and those teeth and those fucking
gorgeous eyes make me hard. I've never been this hard in my life
off just looking at a woman, but here I am with my dick rock
solid.
Someone bumps me from behind. I collide with
her and apologize. She glances down.
Did she feel it?
I don't want her to run away thinking I'm
some freak who presses his cock to girls in bars. I grab her arm
and smile and point to the bartender to keep her here.
The woman points to her glass and then
me.
I shake my head. I'm buying.
Holding out some cash, I get what's on
special and hand her one.
She taps her finger against the side of the
glass and inspects the liquid inside. It's pink and stinks of cheap
liquor.
I grin and gesture for her to try it.
Her lips open and the faintest glimpse of a
wet pink tongue appears. It's oddly erotic watching her gulp down
the whole drink in one go, her throat working as she swallows it
all in one.
“Nice?” I yell.
She smiles and nods.
I drink down mine and decide that I have a
miracle here. A woman that can turn me on like this is a prize and
she looks crazily like my ex as well. If I can fuck her tonight,
it'll be like FINALLY fucking Wendy – my ex-girlfriend who held out
longer than anyone should.
My hand takes her and I surprise her by her
expression when I draw her to the dance floor. My boys fist pump
and cat call wildly when I go by. They are all for this.
I'm out there and it's crazy. Loud, a sea of
people, lights everywhere, people nearly fucking each other on the
dance floor. This place is filthy and hardcore and a total meat
market. Girls too young to be in here are all over the place. Guys
wasted to the point of stumbling in circles. A madhouse of a party,
but perfect. Just perfect for grinding on this hot older babe.
I grab her hips and find them fleshy but
firm. My cock presses straight up between the crease down the
middle and she makes no complaint about having it there.
“You are sexy,” I whisper in her ear.
My cock rolls of the soft fabric of her
dress as I bend my knees and work my hips side to side. Her butt is
in good shape and wide. My hands are all over it for a whole song
before I turn her and go straight into the make out.
Lights, sweat, sex.
I have her pinned against a speaker and I'm
finger fucking her wet pussy to the bass and I don't know how I got
here. She's moaning in my ear and calling me a filthy young man.
I'm so horny right now I could cum.
But I don't.
The song ends. People shift and we come out
of the crowd. I take her by the hand and
to see and not least of which is the dress she's wearing.
It's red. Low cut at the top. High cut at
the bottom. I'm drunk and there are strobe lights blinding me from
the dance floor nearby, but I would swear...
No , I would guarantee ...
… that is the same dress my ex-girlfriend
wore only 2 weeks ago on the day that she left me for Brad Harris,
popular football star and a massive trade up from a regular Joe
like myself.
I size her up. In the background there's my
friends howling at each other about something or another. Beer
glasses clonk on the table at times. Women laugh and cry out on the
dance floor in the heat of their gyrations and flirtations.
Yet...
Is it that time stopped or I stopped?
All I can see is her.
Red
dress , I wonder, who the heck are you because you look EXACTLY like her – just
more... I don't know... older?
I stand up. My friend Jock looks up from his
conversation, but doesn't say anything. He goes back to talking and
I start wobbling my way forward. Walking when as plastered as I am
is quite a feat.
I stop beside her.
She glances my way.
My eyes open wide.
Hers stay the same.
You see, it's not my ex-girlfriend – that is
certain – but she looks a lot like her. A LOT like her. I
stare.
The woman's lips move. It's too loud to hear
anything. I smile and make the gesture for a drink. She smiles and
my dick hardens. Those tits and those teeth and those fucking
gorgeous eyes make me hard. I've never been this hard in my life
off just looking at a woman, but here I am with my dick rock
solid.
Someone bumps me from behind. I collide with
her and apologize. She glances down.
Did she feel it?
I don't want her to run away thinking I'm
some freak who presses his cock to girls in bars. I grab her arm
and smile and point to the bartender to keep her here.
The woman points to her glass and then
me.
I shake my head. I'm buying.
Holding out some cash, I get what's on
special and hand her one.
She taps her finger against the side of the
glass and inspects the liquid inside. It's pink and stinks of cheap
liquor.
I grin and gesture for her to try it.
Her lips open and the faintest glimpse of a
wet pink tongue appears. It's oddly erotic watching her gulp down
the whole drink in one go, her throat working as she swallows it
all in one.
“Nice?” I yell.
She smiles and nods.
I drink down mine and decide that I have a
miracle here. A woman that can turn me on like this is a prize and
she looks crazily like my ex as well. If I can fuck her tonight,
it'll be like FINALLY fucking Wendy – my ex-girlfriend who held out
longer than anyone should.
My hand takes her and I surprise her by her
expression when I draw her to the dance floor. My boys fist pump
and cat call wildly when I go by. They are all for this.
I'm out there and it's crazy. Loud, a sea of
people, lights everywhere, people nearly fucking each other on the
dance floor. This place is filthy and hardcore and a total meat
market. Girls too young to be in here are all over the place. Guys
wasted to the point of stumbling in circles. A madhouse of a party,
but perfect. Just perfect for grinding on this hot older babe.
I grab her hips and find them fleshy but
firm. My cock presses straight up between the crease down the
middle and she makes no complaint about having it there.
“You are sexy,” I whisper in her ear.
My cock rolls of the soft fabric of her
dress as I bend my knees and work my hips side to side. Her butt is
in good shape and wide. My hands are all over it for a whole song
before I turn her and go straight into the make out.
Lights, sweat, sex.
I have her pinned against a speaker and I'm
finger fucking her wet pussy to the bass and I don't know how I got
here. She's moaning in my ear and calling me a filthy young man.
I'm so horny right now I could cum.
But I don't.
The song ends. People shift and we come out
of the crowd. I take her by the hand and
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