Well after waking
up refreshed from an early evening in and a great night’s sleep, I hit it hard
at the conference. Made some great connections and got a lot of work knocked
out…hit the gym nice and hard (resulting in a shoulder pull. Ouch)
We headed out to an
event at the Boise State field house. I have to say, I was pretty damned
impressed. Of course, the sponsored bar helped a lot. Free, all you can drink
liquor is the surest way to my heart. The place was really nice though, and the
food was great. There was a game going on down on that crazy, royal blue
Astroturf field.
A scenario was
setting itself up for the night. Throughout the day, a REALLY spicy little
gorgeous Mexican girl from the Texas border and I had been talking and
flirting. She was petite, beautiful, spunky, and confident…just the way I love
them.
The problem was
that she was by far the most attractive woman in a group of about 200, mostly
men. That made her prime target. At one
point, I looked up and there was literally a full table of guys sitting there
and her, the only woman, as they all tried to impress her or win her attention.
Morons.
Game theory,
idiots…haven’t you ever heard of game theory? Watch “A Beautiful Mind” and take
notes. While they were all pursuing the woman I really would have loved to take
back to the hotel and make scream out filthy words in perfect Spanish, they
were leaving the rest of the room full of women to smarter rogues like me.
It was pretty funny
too. You could quickly figure out that there were about four guys who were A)
single and B) smart enough to let the other idiots fawn over the sexy Mexican.
We were cleaning
house. Where the table in the corner had
8 guys and one girl, the smart ones of us in the group were taking turns
standing at the tables with 3 or 4 women each trying to get OUR attention. One
other particularly handsome guy and I were shooting each other sly, knowing
glances with sideways smiles as we each thought about how enjoyable the evening
was turning out to be.
So I wrote off my “Plan A” from earlier in the day, and let a “Plan B”
emerge. We’ll call her Carrie..a reference to her wild curly hair and her
intense affinity for amazing footwear, reminiscent of Carrie from Sex and the
City. Her shoe choice at each event had been fierce and impeccable. It's what drew me to her originally. (Also, she was 44 and still single, again like Carrie)
The thing about 44 year old business women is they know exactly what
they want, and they aren’t shy about telling you. She was following me around
with a VERY hungry look in her eye, and even (bless her heart) took the
opportunity to show me how flexible she was, as an avid yoga practitioner. She
did love attention. As a matter of fact, she came off as a little bit of a
loose cannon. Probably a great lover.
She wasn’t great looking…not terrible either, I suppose. She had a pretty
fit body. I’d go on to find a favorite part later. I let her cool off between
bouts of getting her all worked up and excited. I’d go find someone else to
talk to, and leave her stuck with someone boring for a while so she’d
appreciate me even more when I came back.
It was working handsomely when we all loaded up and headed back to the
hotel for the evening. The group hung out in the hotel bar for a while,
debating about whether we were going to go out or stay there and terrorize the
poor hotel staff. It ended up about half and half.
Just as Carrie and I were about to leave, a very pretty blonde woman,
just a little older than me walked up behind me. I had seen her earlier in the
day and again that evening, but hadn’t really paid much attention. I couldn’t
really say why. Maybe I had set my sites so firmly on plans A and B that I didn’t
even leave room for a plan C.
She smiled coyly and said, my friends and I think you’re Super
Preferred. That’s a best of the best health rating in insurance. It was a
reference to her having been a life insurance salesperson and was absolutely
the funniest and most unique pickup I’d ever heard in my life. It caught me so
wonderfully off guard that I laughed almost uncontrollably. She knew she had my
attention. I joked with her and her friends for a bit before Carrie came and grabbed
my arm to make sure I left with her. We stood at the bar for a few minutes, and
the blonde slipped up behind me and said, “So are we gonna go get in the hot
tub tonight or what?”
Here stands the Wayward Rogue, caught between a rock and a hard place,
and we all know where my hard place was. Now I would have imagined that an
offer like that would have dragged me instantly over to the blonde and an
assured night of vibrant excitement and pleasure.
Interestingly, I didn’t go. I left with Carrie. Now I’ve thought many times
about why that was. Was I put off by her directness? Perhaps. Was I more
interested in the challenge of a not-so-sure-thing over a guaranteed option?
Could be. Did I already feel some sense of commitment to following through with
Carrie, since we had spent the evening together and were planning to go out
dancing together? Also likely. Maybe it was just a combination of all the
above. I don’t regret my choice. But it has given me a lot to think about. I’m
going to guess that the hot tub with the blonde would have turned out to be a
more pleasurable experience. Still, I can’t complain…
Carrie and I danced, shot pool, drank and laughed together. Everyone
else stayed out a bit later, but I had other plans. I asked if she’d mind
leaving the group behind and heading back. “It had been a long day.” We both knew where we wanted to go.
In the elevator on the way up, I stepped in behind her and wrapped my
arms around her waist, pulling her in tightly against me. She felt my manhood
as is swelled against her beautifully round ass, black yoga pants pulled taught
across it. She turned around and we kissed passionately, partly hoping the door
would open and someone would be standing there.
We went to her room, and I teased her that my room was a lot larger and
nicer. She remarked that maybe we should be up there. Not going to happen.
I began kissing her and touching each part of her body. I slid her
blouse up over her head and found the roundness of her breasts to be more than
usually appealing. I believe it was because there was no padding in her bra. I’ve
grown tired of girls wearing Victoria’s Secret bras with a full cup size of
padding making them look better endowed than they are. In truth, I actually
really like small breasts. And, I’d much rather see the trueness of a woman under
her clothes, than to imagine one thing and later find quite another.
As I took that bra off, I realized that Carrie had the most perfectly
shaped, natural breasts I’d ever seen. What a delightful surprise! I spent
quite a bit of time there holding them, caressing them, softly running my
fingers one at a time over her perfectly pink, small and hardened nipples. She
seemed to appreciate my appreciation. I could smell the sex in her.
As I began to take down her yoga pants, she became very uncomfortable
and tensed up. She said, “No I haven’t waxed!” I leaned over and turned off the
light to make her more comfortable. This seemed to assuage her concerns.
She was justified in her concern. She had not waxed…possibly ever from
the fell of things. I didn’t quite know how to react to that wildly untamed
fur. I decided that I should simply appreciate the variety of having something I’d
never had before, and give her the pleasure she desired so achingly.
I entered her. It was smooth and easy. She had grown so wet that I was
sure it was dripping down toward the bed.
As I slowly slid into her, she held her breath in silence. She focused
on the sensation as I pressed all the way into her. When I reached the depths
of her, she finally gasped and groaned with pleasure. I sensed it had been a
long time since she had felt the sensation of a man deep inside her. I’m
growing hard again now as I remember the experience.
It took her only a few seconds to orgasm. It came from deep inside her
and entirely soaked the bed as she let loose all her sexual ferocity in those
moments of climax.
I gave her a bit of a break, laying there, holding her as she rested.
And then I began again.
We didn’t need to have acrobatics or changed positions. This was the
beauty of simple lovemaking. Myself on top, muscles squeezed strongly over her,
looking down at her, feeling her softness pressed underneath me, watching those
gorgeous natural breasts heave and rock back and forth as I pushed into her
again and again.
I drew down close to her and let my firmness press deep inside again. I
felt her tension increase. She wanted to cum again. I slowly moved my penis
back and forth across only a couple of inches of her most tender parts, staying
deep inside her the whole time. Again she rose to a climax, breathing hard,
nearly gasping. These are my favorite moments. I so adore giving a good woman
that pleasure. Again, I felt the wetness of her orgasm. She was one of the
wettest lovers I’ve ever had.
As she finished, I realized how close I was to orgasm myself. Raising up
a bit from her, a few long strokes and I was ready to release. I closed my
eyes, slowed my breath, and let the pleasure build to a max. I released it
inside her as she moaned, my abs flexing hard with the contraction that only
comes from a great orgasm in the midst of great sex.
We collapsed. Both
still tipsy from the drinks, both drained from the exchange of energy, both
satisfied with our choice to share ourselves for the night.
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