This contains sexual words, actions, and themes.
If you are under 21, this is not for you... go away.
If this is not normal where you come from, go away.
If you don't like this sort of stuff, go away.
If, on the other hand, you are legal, and this type of
story is 'normal' for you, and you LIKE it... keep on
reading.
This is my first new in a LONG time. It isn't
my best, and the title sucks, but I am trying to jump
back on the bandwagon, so please be gentle. And if
you even have a smidgen of liking for it, I could use
some ego-stroking...errr... umm.... I mean, praise.
The Gamble by Pami (pami1968@aol.com) (M/F, mdom?)
It was a short flight home - under an hour. It was
around midnight when they boarded, and the plane was
about half empty. Or half full, depending on your
level of optimism or pessimism, she thought to
herself. No one flies at midnight on a Saturday
night. Her seat assignment was about three rows from
the back of the 737, which was supposed to be one of
the safest places to be. At least according to the
FAA. In reality, if anything went wrong with the
plane, she reflected that those seat cushions that
could be used as flotation devices would really be no
use at all. In fact, did they EVER get used as
flotation devices?
One of the travel group was a seat away. She had the
window, and he had the aisle. They had a mutual
friend but that was it. In all, they had exchanged
maybe 50 words, ever. And her friend didn't even like
him, which colored her thinking just a bit. But as he
sat down and asked her how her trip had gone, she
thought that he WAS maybe just a little bit sexy.
Takeoff was delayed, and he offered her one of his
magazines. Newsweek or Time. She declined,
preferring to look at the window at the airport
lights. She sighed heavily, and he looked up at her.
"Rough day at the tables?" he asked her with a slight
smile on his face.
She grinned back. "Lost a couple of hundred. I guess
that isn't bad. I didn't have to resort to the credit
cards for money, so I suppose I'm ok. You?"
"Well, I did just fine until right before we left. I
thought I'd give roulette one more whirl. I guess 16
really ISN'T my lucky number," he told her.
"Never take more than you can afford to lose. I think
that's what my used to tell me," she replied.
"Ahhh... so you come here a lot?" he asked.
"Oh no!" she said with a little giggle. "THAT would
be a very, very 'bad' thing. I used to come here more
frequently when I lived about an hour away, but now
that it involves planning and a plane flight, I pretty
much stopped. There's something about actually
PLANNING to go somewhere and lose my money that tends
to stop me."
They laughed together and then she sat back in her
seat, shooting what she thought was a subtle glance
out of the corner of her eye at him. He stood about 6
feet tall, and she had no idea what he weighed, but he
wasn't overweight or particularly skinny either.
Solid was a good term for him, she thought to herself
as she checked him out. He was reading Time magazine
and was apparently engrossed in some article about
some legal battle being waged at the Supreme Court.
He looked up at her, catching her staring at him, and
smiled at her. "I can't get away from it," he told
her with a note of humor in his voice.
She was confused by this apparent non sequiteur.
"Huh?" she asked with all of the aplomb of a 12 year
old.
"The law. You DID know I am an attorney, right?" he
asked her.
"Uh. Oh. Yeah. Of course I did," she recovered.
"After all, we ARE on a trip with the law FIRM,
right?" she replied with an attempt to regain some
composure.
"Sheesh," she thought, "I sound like the village idiot
instead of a 30 year professional woman."
He shook his head and went back to his magazine.
She looked out the window at the lights below and
tried not to think about how far up in the air they
were. She wasn't a poor flyer, she just didn't like
to dwell on the possibility of crashing. Landing and
taking off were the tough parts. The actual 'cruising
altitude' stuff was ok.
She must've dozed off, because all of a sudden he was
gently shaking her arm. "Buckle up, its landing
time," he smiled at her. She sat up, blinked her
eyes, smiled back at him, and hoped that she hadn't
been snoring or drooling in her sleep. Now THAT would
be embarrassing.
As the plane descended, she could see the tops of the
trees as they reached them, and then, with a gentle
bump, the pilot braked to a relatively smooth stop.
They looked at each other, and he said, "I guess you
can breathe now, eh?" with a wry grin.
She giggled and took a deep breath of the stale cabin
air and promptly started coughing.
They both laughed at that, and she said, "I guess I
should wait to be outside in the nice fresh city air
before I do that again." They laughed some more as
they patiently waited to deplane.
As they companionably walked up the ramp, he smiled
and extended his hand, "Well, it was nice meeting you.
Maybe we'll bump into each other again, ok?"
She shook his hand and murmured the expected
pleasantries. He walked away, and she turned to wait
for her friend.
"Damn, damn, damn...." She muttered as she popped the
hood on her car. "What a crappy trip. I lose money,
I act like an idiot on the plane, and now THIS!"
She and her friend had parted company on the moving
walkway of the airport, and she went to start her car
for the long drive home, only to find that the car
wouldn't start.
She propped the hood up and looked inside. "First of
all," she reasoned, "what the hell am I doing looking
at an engine in the dark." The parking lot lights
weren't THAT bright. "Secondly", she thought, "I
don't even know what I am looking FOR. What I know
about cars would fit in a thimble. That's what AAA is
for."
A car honked behind her and she jumped, whirling
around to face a dark green Volvo. The driver's side
window rolled down, and she saw it was the guy from
the plane.
"Anything wrong? " he called.
"Nothing that a new car wouldn't fix," she told him
with a scowl on her face.
He parked right in front of her vehicle and got out.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Oh, the damn thing won't start."
"Any idea what's wrong?" he asked.
She snorted. "Do I LOOK like a mechanic?" she asked
sarcastically.
He cast her a look of distaste and replied, "Hey, I'm
just trying to help here. If you would prefer, I
could just go on my way. It IS kind of late, and I
would like to get home before the sun comes up."
She sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm just tired and want to go
home. And now I have to call AAA and then wait for
them, and see if they can start my car, or if they
have to tow it, and where would I have them tow it to
anyway, since I don't have a mechanic in this town."
She started off by apologizing to him but ended up
talking to herself.
Flashing lights came up the row of parked cars as they
stood there, and it was the airport rescue squad.
They took a look at her car, and offered the expert
opinion that it wasn't the battery or anything they
could easily fix. "Look like you're gonna need a tow,
lady, and we don't do that," was the judgment.
She leaned against her car, and he spoke. "How about
I give you a ride home, and then tomorrow you can come
back out and take care of it during the day? You look
whipped."
"You wouldn't mind, really?" she asked with a hopeful
tone.
He smiled and gestured to the passenger side. "Hop on
in, and let's go."
She smiled back, and wearily walked over and climbed
in. She inhaled deeply once she was in the car.
"No cough?" he asked with a note of humor.
"Nope... fresh air, and the smell of leather.
Ahhhhh...does wonders for me," she grinned at him.
She quickly gave him directions to her apartment, and
off they went. The 25-minute drive was uneventful and
neither spoke. She couldn't help but notice his hands
on the steering wheel, and how strong they appeared.
She smiled to herself, thinking how ridiculous that
would sound to anyone else, but she liked hands. She
liked fantasizing about they would feel touching her.
He pulled up in front of her apartment, and without
thinking, she reached out and touched his right hand.
Briefly caressing it, running her fingertips from the
wrist over the back of the hand, and tracing his
fingers. His hand turned over and grasped hers, and
she was shaken into reality, and she looked at him.
He leaned towards her, and she knew what he wanted.
The kiss was electrifying, and suddenly she wasn't
tired anymore. He tasted faintly like liquor, and she
knew that he had a drink or two in the airport before
they had left Atlantic City. His tongue was rough
against hers, and when he suddenly rubbed it over the
roof of her mouth, she felt chills run up her spine.
He drew back from her and turned the car off. He took
his keys out of the ignition and smiled at her. "I
think I should tuck you into bed, little girl."
She just looked at him dazedly and said "Okay," in a
small voice.
They both got out of the car and he followed her up
the stairs to her front door. Her door was entirely
glass, and as she put her key in the lock she looked
through and right into the mirror that faced the door.
She could see her reflection, and his, directly behind
her. She opened the door and stepped through. He
followed and shut the door, locking it. He then
turned around and as she went to go up the stairs to
the second floor apartment he commanded,
"No. Wait. Look at something here."
She stopped and took the three steps back to where he
was, and he turned her around to face the mirror
again. They were all of 12 inches from the large
mirror that clearly reflected the both of them from
the waist up. He wrapped his hand around her long
hair and immobilized her head as he swooped in on her
neck, licking and gently biting it.
Her pulse raced as she wondered how on earth he could
have any idea of how to excite her so easily. His
tongue slid over her pulse in her neck, and she
shivered with joy. In the next moment, his teeth slid
shut and he bit her. More than a nibble, and hard
enough make her feel a moment of pain before he
softened it into a kiss. Her hands reached up and
slid through his hair, holding him to her. Every one
of his touches sent a twinge to her pussy, and she
knew she was getting damp.
He finally stopped ravaging her neck and looked at her
in the mirror. Her neck was and splotchy and she
knew she would have a couple of marks come tomorrow
morning. He didn't care, and neither did she.
"I've been wanting to do this since the moment I saw
you on the flight out," he told her, his stare never
once leaving her eyes.
She blushed. She felt it start at her cheeks, and as
he stared at her in the mirror, they both watch it
spread down the unmarked parts of her neck and
disappear beneath her blouse.
"I want to see how far down you blush," he whispered
as he stood up straight behind her. "Let's go
upstairs."
She started up the steps, very conscious of the fact
that he was directly behind her and was probably
watching her ass as she climbed the stairs.
They walked through the kitchen and into the living
room. He sat down on the plush sofa and uttered one
word. "Strip."
She did. She pulled her over her head, and in
one motion pulled her pants and socks off together,
leaving her standing before him in her and
bra.
"Wait," he said, as she reached for the clasp of the
bra. "Turn," he told her, and she did.
She slowly turned before him, and as she turned back
to face him, he smiled. "Did you know this would
happen?" he questioned her.
"What?" she asked, confused by the question. How on
earth would she have known this would happen? The
turn of events was a little too unlikely. Surely he
didn't think she engineered the entire car breakdown
just to get him into bed.
"Well, purple IS my favorite color," he smiled again
and gestured at her lacy bra and panties.
She blushed again and smiled. "What a coincidence.
It is mine too," she told him.
"And now, my dear.... I want to see just how much of
you is blushing. Continue," he commanded with a wave
of his hand.
She knew most women would be thoroughly offended by
his manner by now, but she also knew that somehow he
was playing to her mostly submissive side, and
it was turning her on even more. How did he know that
she was tired of who always asked how to please
her? How she was weary of having to say, "No, kiss me
here. No, lower. Oh harder, please." She wanted a
man who would just KNOW how to please her. And how to
get her to please him.
She reached around and undid the clasp of her bra, and
her bountiful sprang forward, released from
their harness. She reached down and pulled her
panties down to her ankles and then kicked them off,
standing completely naked before his eyes. He did
nothing for what seemed like a long time to her and
then he spoke.
"Come over here. Now," he said, pointing to a spot
directly in front of him.
She did, and she stood with her even with his
line of sight. He looked at them. Reached up and
took them in his hands, massaging and pulling on them.
Taking the rosy and nipples between his thumbs
and forefingers and pulling them towards him so that
her were distended. Leaning forward and
taking one of her teats between his lips and
on it suddenly. Then turning to the other one and
latching onto it with his teeth, flicking his tongue
back and forth quickly over the sensitive end. She
moaned, unable to help herself, as the sensation
resonated throughout her body, from her to
her brain and then down to her pussy.
At her sound, he let go and leaned back, looking up at
her flushed face. "So you like that, eh?" he asked
with a smile on his face.
She nodded, not sure whether to speak or not. Not
sure whether she COULD speak. It had been an awful
long time since someone had touched her in such a way,
and she was overwhelmed.
He tapped the sofa next to his left leg. "Foot. Here.
Now, please," he told her, tapping her right knee so
that she wouldn't misunderstand him.
She placed her right foot outside his knee and he
placed his hand over it, gently rubbing it and smiling
up at her. They both inhaled deeply, and she was
slightly mortified that she could smell her arousal.
His smiled widened as hers disappeared and she jumped.
He had taken his free hand and suddenly thrust it
between her legs, cupping her vulva and feeling her
wetness.
"Oh!" she gasped as one of his fingers found its way
inside her tunnel. Another finger gently and
persistently rubbed her clit, and she felt like she
was going to melt on the spot. Her eyes closed, and
her head fell back on her shoulders as she surrendered
completely to the sensation.
Abruptly his hand left her pussy, and she straightened
up and looked back down into his suddenly unsmiling
visage. "Look at me, sweet. Don't stop.
Understand?" he told her, leaving her no real option
but to nod her head in agreement. No option, that is,
if she wanted the touching to continue.
He smiled again, and the magical fingers were upon her
wetness once more. This time he thrust two fingers
inside her tightness, and used his thumb to circle
around and around her clit. She whimpered with
pleasure, but didn't dare to remove her eyes from his.
The effort was exhausting, when every instinct was
telling her to look away.
His smile widened as her hips began uncontrollably
thrusting at him, fucking his fingers deeper and
trying to get the necessary friction against her
little nub to allow her the orgasm that she wanted so
much. He kept pulling back more and more so that she
would move more wildly to get what she needed. Her
eyes were completely dilated now with the black pupils
almost covering the colored irises beneath them. He
could see that her entire body was flushed with
arousal now, and the room was heavy with her scent.
She looked into his eyes with purpose now, and knew
that her orgasm was just seconds away. She couldn't
control herself anymore, and she heard the panting and
moaning noises coming out of her mouth like an
in heat. And she was just as desperate as one.
Just as she was about to crest the mountain, he pulled
his fingers out of her. She moaned with
disappointment and anger, only to scream with passion
as he suddenly fucked three of his magical fingers
into her slit, turning them rapidly and rubbing
relentlessly against that little spot inside that so
few knew about.
She burst into climax, feeling all control slip from
her as she looked into his eyes. She felt the sudden
pressure explode as she experienced one of the
squirting orgasms that signified that she was aroused
beyond all normal boundaries. And still her eyes
clung to his, hoping that he would help her cling to
reality as her body shattered into a thousand flaming
pieces.
His thumb gently slid over her clit to maintain her
orgasm for as long as possible, and she continued to
thrust her hips uncontrollably towards him as waves
and waves of pleasure continued to cascade over her
for what seemed like long minutes.
Finally, she calmed down, and he withdrew his hand
from her drenched pussy. He reached up to his mouth
and took a long lick of her juices. "Delicious," he
pronounced. "I hope there is more where that came
from."
She still gazed into his eyes, and he snapped his
fingers. She blinked, coming back to reality, and
blushed.
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