Loudest Girl...

When I met her, she worked in a sports bar and she was considered the "Loudest Girl in Mission Beach". I had a contract working for the state that required me to spend each week in town, but, owing to limits on the per-diem, I would drive home on the weekends. After a few weeks, this gets old, both the driving and the tedium of staying in a motel.

It was tedious until I met her, but she relieved it.

She was of average height, maybe 5'4", with long auburn hair and I'd be lying if I said she had a killer body. On the other hand, while she had to work out to keep the weight off, she had plenty of curves and quite a chest, which she exaggerated with tight t-shirts. These, er, "attributes" attracted a fair amount of male attention.

The "loudest girl" sobriquet came from her tart-if-not-downright-acid responses. She worked cocktails in this sports bar right near my motel lodgings and I became a regular, sitting at the bar. Being a bit older and not being a horndog on the prowl, we quickly got into trading barbed bits of wisdom that was buoyed by my refusal to flirt with her. This was new and different to her. I think it fascinated her that someone could keep their eyes off the merchandise and was willing to say things that might not be interpreted as "fawning for her affections".

She began to flirt with me, but I played it cool. Always friendly but never taking her seriously. Her approaches grew stronger, more deliberate. Finally, one night, after I "closed the place down" (10 pm, go figure), we were walking out--me headed for my motel and she for her car. She bantered about how "it was too bad I was going back to that cold bed by myself".

"As if you'd like to warm it up?" I replied, smirking.

"Don't dare me, sailor boy."

"Why not? You're not game anyway."

"I'll show you!" she said, smugly, and taking my hand, she led me across the boulevard to my motel. I opened the door, looked down into her eyes, and asked if she were done playing now.

"Not by a long shot," she said. "I'm getting mine tonight!"

She brushed by me into the room, kicked off her shoes, and sat on the bed. Patting the space next to her, she invited me over. So I saw next to her and put my arm around her. Our kiss was like our conversations before had been: strong, testing, teasing. Her lips were strong and her tongue darting. Our hands were roaming and it was mere moments before her breasts, big and gloriously round, were free between us as she stroked my hardness.

I tried, valiantly, to do right by her. I wanted to lick and tease her nipples, taste her glorious sex. But she was having none of it. She shifted and shimmied and twisted us until I was mounted above her, her heels back in the air, her fingers guiding me to her ripe wet opening.

"Do it, big boy. Do me good." she demanded. Her face was coated in sweat, her body shivering with arousal as we urgently ******. Quickly I grew near my ******, so I panted out "I'm close..."

"You know what you want. Fill it. Do it now," she demanded. Stars and lights and a serious fever swept over me and I did as she asked, my bare naked **** pumping and pumping into her depths. It turns out, she was the loudest girl in bed too: she groaned her approval, bucking her hips in time to my movements.

We made love several times that night. And then, around 4 am, she arose and tiptoed out.

I worried what might come after, what fallout, what her reaction would be. And indeed, something had changed in her when I saw her that next night. She had a delicious secret smile for me.

"You know you were a naughty boy. Doing me all unprotected like that. But I love it. I could feel your seed in me all day. You're the first man to do that, you know?"

In public we bantered, but it was clear: we were hooked. And every night ended the same, waking the poor fellow residents of my motel.

Pretty soon my contract ended and, it seems, she was moving away as well, headed back to her family home in Michigan. I still think of her, from time-to-time, and wonder what became of the Loudest Girl in Mission Beach.
deleted deleted
26-30
1 Response May 7, 2012

Perhaps all you have to do is listen!!! ;-)