Blind Date

Fifteen minutes later, having tried to find Eric using Google, the Yellow Pages, and every other means she could think of, she stared at her computer screen, her motionless hand still on the mouse.

I have to find you. Annie rubbed her eyes again, toeing off her heels and putting her feet up on her desk. She smiled, remembering how she had bumped her head leaning back in the chair that night and how he had comforted and tended her. She remembered the heat between them, like a shock, the incredible passion of that night. She drifted, giving in to her exhaustion.

Eric’s hands slid slowly up her thighs. She loved his hands the most, so large and warm, the way he pulled and grabbed at her, like he wanted her. What was it about him, that she knew it, without even a trace of doubt? It was in his eyes, his hands. He wanted her.

The black velvet darkness enveloped her and she strained her eyes in the dimness. Where was she? She touched the hard, cold surface under her hands.

Her body was splayed for him, her arms and legs thrown wide, her hair fanning out over her shoulders. She knew she was beautiful, like a goddess. If only he could see her…

His hands spread her legs further apart and back, exposing her completely to him. His fingers probed, his tongue, too, the wet heat of his mouth so hungry! He made eager sucking and licking sounds between her legs, drinking her like she was the only nourishment he’d had in eons.

Annie moaned in her sleep, shifting in her chair, the aching heat between her legs growing intense. Her hand found its way up under her skirt, cupping the damp crotch of her panties.

Eric’s fingers became rougher, spreading her open, shoving into her and curling up again and again, like he could peel her from the inside. She writhed and moaned, bucking against him, not caring if someone heard. He wanted to hear her. Somehow, she knew he wanted her response, and she gave it to him.

Then he moved onto her. It was so fast, and yet it seemed to go on forever. He had a hundred hands, grabbing her breasts, pinching her nipples, cupping her ass, plunging into her pussy. She tried to keep up with him, but she couldn’t. She could only let him have her, take her. My pussy was yours the minute you touched it, Eric… She knew the whispered thought was true. Her pussy responded for him in ways she didn’t understand, as if it were weeping with joy at his touch.

His cock was hot steel, impaling her again and again. She couldn’t get enough of it, of him. What was it about this man that she wanted to worship every sweet, glorious inch of him? Never had someone filled her so completely, made her long for him so much. Her pussy spasmed as she felt herself being opened by him, bit by bit, the hard press of his flesh spreading hers. The way he stayed there and kissed her before he started pulling out, the throbbing feel of the tip buried deep inside of her making her close her eyes and clutch at him. He used that deliciously fat, bulbous head to collect all her juices, pulling it along her hot, tight passage toward the light-wetting the way.

He hesitated for a moment and then…oh, god, he started to fuck her so hard-so hard and fast and breathless and sweaty in the heat of the sun. The light? Where was the light coming from? She was aware of the ground beneath her now as they rocked. There was the sound of water coming from somewhere, but her eyes didn’t search it out. Instead, Annie opened her eyes and saw him-

the most beautiful man she had ever encountered. She gloried in the sight of him, and knew he was hers. She could feel it in the way his thighs pressed against her, see it in the way his dark hair curled behind his ear, and knew it in the outline of his mouth, drawn tight, as he drove even deeper inside of her.

“Eric, look at me!” Annie urged, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Please, look at me.”

She felt his smile against her cheek. “I don’t need to.” And she knew it was true. He knew her in ways she didn’t even know herself.

They sank into blackness again, floating on a mattress like a soft cloud in the darkness. He fucked her with all of his strength, his muscles straining, his breath hot on her face. She met him, crazy with her own lust, bucking under him until her body screamed for release. She moaned and gasped in his ear, calling his name, begging him for more. The words didn’t matter, she just had to release her breath, or die. And he gave her what she wanted, left and right and sideways and upside-fucking-down.