I'll admit it: I'm not so good at playing the part of "wing man" to someone else, particularly when the "someone else" is my sad sack of a best friend, Wayne. He had just been dumped by his long time girlfriend Crystal, a cruel, unattractive thing who hated all of Wayne's friends (me included) and was borderline abusive to him.
Secretly we had all applauded the breakup which had been the result of her blatantly cheating on Wayne and refusing to work it out no matter how much he begged. Like I said, he's my best friend, but it wouldn't be stretching to suggest that Wayne had some serious self-esteem problems.
So right from the start, I didn't have much to work with when I offered to assist him in getting back on the horse. Any horse, so long the horse in question wasn't his ex. It was to this end that he and I had been going out on the town in hopes of finding someone to take his mind off of her.
I didn't bring my girlfriend, Michelle, with us on most of these evenings as I'm sure Wayne would have felt like a third wheel (actually, he said as much) and wasn't yet interested in being set up with any of her friends (yep, said that too). So as a result, I found myself back in the world of the single man, going out drinking and meeting young women with the goal of getting one of them back home in bed, or at least getting to a mutual exchange of phone numbers that might eventually lead to such a coupling. The problem, of course, was that I had to try and steer said women towards a man who clearly didn't seem ready to reciprocate, and this led to some awkward situations..
Most recently, this had been an evening where the two of us had actually managed to successfully infiltrate a girls night out where we were outnumbered five to two. The alpha-female of the group, a very pretty brunette named Marissa, had latched on to me early and didn't even bite at my attempts to steer her towards my single friend.
Of course, I claimed to be single too in the interest of keeping our foot in the door, but regardless I had to still keep up the flirting in order to give Wayne time to hopefully make a connection with one of the other four girls. To his credit, he did okay with one of them, but he soon fell prey to the shots that Marissa kept ordering for the entire group and as a result I caught him occasionally mentioning his ex in the conversation. This meant I had to tear myself away from Marissa (who was actually quite nice to talk to and even nicer to look at) and drag him off to the back deck of the bar for a cigarette and a pep talk.
"Dude, you can't go bringing Crystal up. It's gonna scare these chicks off," I explained, coughing after the first inhale. I had mostly given up cigarettes but found them to be a necessary accessory now that I was pretending to be a single man on the prowl again.
Wayne apologized and then proceeded to go on a tangent that told me two things: He had gotten way too drunk, and was only going to get worse the longer we stayed, and his mind was permanently dwelling on his ex, who had apparently been fucking with his head all night by sending him text messages.
Sigh. Oh well. I needed to stop things before they got out of hand anyway..
It was at that moment that Marissa walked out on the deck alone and came over to us. She asked for a cigarette and I complied. Wayne, apparently confused about just who was playing wing man tonight, immediately left me alone and went back into the bar with the others.
"Sounds like your friend just went through a pretty bad breakup, huh?" she asked.
Again, I was a little enamored with her. Long, straight, almost jet black hair. Tanned skin and dark eyes. She was the kind of girl I used to dream of meeting every night before I hooked up with Michelle. She was outgoing, seemed kind, and probably wasn't the jealous type.
Probably also not the type to just up and fuck her ex boyfriend in front of her current man, or to get involved in a bizarro swinger lifestyle like we had found ourselves in.
Don't get me wrong, I was having a great time with the way things had developed as of late, but I was starting to suspect in my gut that the potential for our situation to end badly was growing with each new development. That's why it was hard not to look at a chance meeting with a girl like this as something with great potential. At least if everything else went bad at home..
"Yeah. I offered to take him out and take care of him. She was a really awful girl and he's a great guy."
Marissa took another drag and looked up at me with big eager eyes. "How about you?"
"How about me what?"
"Are you a great guy?"
I smiled, trying not to think about my girlfriend who was nowhere in sight. "I like to think so."
With that, before I saw it coming, the raven-haired young beauty stepped in and kissed me. Her tongue danced eagerly over mine, almost a promise that something very passionate and very interesting lay beneath her demure exterior. I pulled her in, hands in the small of her back just above the curve of her ass and kissed her back.
As the kiss broke, Marissa gave me a look that I could have fallen in love with and I felt her hand moving towards my waistband. I was startled, unsure where this was going as her fingers moved into the front pocket of my shorts and... removed my cell phone.
In one quick motion she entered her name and number into the contacts list and then replaced it. Whatever happened to just writing your digits on a napkin? I wondered, suddenly aware of how dating had been changing around me while I had been in a relationship.
"Let's go back in and you take care of your friend. Maybe later you can give me a call and we'll see what a good guy you really are." She said it with a smile that suggested it wasn't just a dumb euphemism but a promise of something more, and then turned to walk back inside with the others.
I reminded myself that at the very least I'd need to transfer that number to my work phone so that Michelle didn't discover it, and then followed behind her. I didn't feel like too good of a guy just then..
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We didn't stay much longer. Wayne's behavior got borderline annoying as his intoxication grew and I knew that if I had any more drinks we weren't going to get home safely which would pretty much get me the award for Shittiest Wing Man Ever. Goodbyes were said and a long lingering look was given between me and Marissa as we left.
I managed to get Wayne home by taking back roads so as to avoid any potential license checks. I wasn't sloppy drunk, but I didn't want to risk getting arrested. Once we made it there, I decided to crash with him. I poured two glasses of his decent bourbon and we went to the living room. Wayne, to my lack of surprise, muttered some more about his ex and then passed out on the couch, his drink untouched on the coffee table before him. I was wide awake and not planning to go anywhere, so I retrieved his glass and decided to polish them both off.
As I did, I decided to send Michelle a text and let her know we had gotten home okay. The text went unanswered and I figured that she was probably asleep. She had planned to hang out with a new friend of hers named Becky that she had met at her community pool. I had actually met Becky which had been a relief as I had began to wonder if her new-found friend was a pseudonym for her ex, Eric, or maybe even Rick, the guy she had fucked the other week while I had a turn with his girlfriend, Allison in the other room.
But no, Becky was actually a smoking hot blonde mother of two who had fawned all over me when Michelle introduced us. I remembered thinking that Michelle might need to feel Becky out and see if she wanted to join us on one of our deviant trysts. Hell, the more the merrier at this point, right? The three of us had hung out together at the pool under the scornful eye of some punk kid lifeguard who had given me the stink eye the whole time, no doubt jealous that I was dating his eye candy. I had just grinned and enjoyed sitting and being seen with the two bikini clad 30-somethings at my side.
I didn't ask her to proposition Becky at the time though, as we already had a plan for another date in the near future with Rick and Allison. Michelle had been surprisingly easygoing about the wild developments in our lives, but remembering her past bouts of jealousy I was reluctant to push too much, especially when it came to a new friend that she seemed to enjoy hanging out with. And again, I was also worried about where we might be heading with all of this..
Setting my personal cell down and taking another drink of the bourbon, I went out to my car and grabbed the phone I used only for work calls. Bringing it back inside, I powered it on and started going through my personal phone to find the entry Marissa had made.
Once I'd located the number, I entered it into the work phone and then deleted the first entry. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty at the act: flirting in a bar was one thing, kissing her had been another, but this was a step towards actually having an affair behind my girlfriend's back. I had never been a cheater: my experiences with an untrue college girlfriend's multiple dalliances had shown me the hurt that such behavior could cause. And yet, here I was hiding a girls number for later use.
Was I falling out of love with Michelle? Or was I just still hurt that she had so willingly fucked two other men? (Albeit with my consent.) I loved her deeply, that I knew, and yet there were times when I began to wonder if my thoughts for her had gone from thinking of her as future wife and mother of my kids material to instead being a vehicle in which to act out my deepest sexual desires.. possibly before settling down with someone.. oh, I don't know.. like Marissa?
I started to cut the phone off but stopped. Instead, I scrolled through the names and came to one marked "Al." It was thinly disguised to look like a man's name, but actually was the phone number of Michelle's friend Allison. The four of us had a still as of yet unplanned orgy pending and yet Allie had given me her number and told me that it was "just between us." I had kept the number but never did anything with it.
Sitting there in the dark, glass of bourbon in hand, I contemplated the number. If I texted her this late, would she be up? I knew she worked in a bar, so she was probably a night owl, but what about her boyfriend? Would he see it and flip out? I went back and forth but ultimately decided that if she hadn't wanted me to contact her, she wouldn't have given me the number in the first place. I decided to play it safe though, and just sent a simple "Evening."
She probably wouldn't reply.
Except that she did. Almost immediately.
"Well hello stranger. Thought you forgot about me!"
And thus began a series of text messages, the content of which I won't bore you with. The gist of it is that I drunkenly made a lunch date with Allie for the next day. I remember thinking that I'd probably wake up and regret it, but I also knew that the courage of liquor was the only way I would go through with it. I eventually went to sleep, not burdened with guilt, but excited to see (and hopefully fuck) her again.
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The next day, I cautiously pulled my truck up outside the restaurant/bar where Allie was working an early shift. I had no intentions of coming inside and being seen, but she was okay with that. I started to send her a text letting her know I was there but she must have been watching for me because no sooner than I put the truck in park did the door open and out she came.
I grinned when I saw her. Allie was a real cutie, her bright, smiling face and big, brown eyes looking like she had not a care in the world. Watching her petite frame approach, I reflected that there was a devil-may-care positivity about her that was simply infectious. The tiny stud in her cute little nose glinted in the sunlight as she walked to my vehicle. I took a moment to admire the way her v-neck t-shirt strained against the swell of her huge breasts, the deep cleavage plainly visible in the cut. I imagined that Allie had no trouble whatsoever pulling in tips at her job.
The door opened and she jumped inside, face beaming at me.
"Hey you!" she said. I wasn't sure whether to hug her, kiss her, or what, but I didn't want to linger outside where someone might see us so instead I started to drive.
"Hey yourself," I replied "Where are we going?"
"Oooh, right to business I see?" she chided. "My apartment is down off of Cairo Street so we can head there."
My head was trying to process a few things just then. Apartment? I thought she lived with Rick? And was it really gonna be this easy to fuck this girl again? No awkward conversation? No bribery with lunch? No promise to leave my girlfriend for her? Just go to the apartment and-
..and before I could say anything more, Allie leaned over to my lap and began unfastening my pants. She giggled as she slid down the zipper and stuck her tiny hand inside of my fly. My cock, already half hard in anticipation uncoiled in her grasp. Allie looked up at me with an adorably devilish grin and then closed her lips around the head of my shaft. Not even two minutes together and she was sucking my cock.
This woman was amazing.
I hadn't gotten "road head," as they call it, since I was 17 and my first girlfriend (a girl who actually reminded me a lot of Allie now that I thought of it) had tried to suck me off on a road trip to the beach. I was as shocked then as I was now. Hell, more so. The thing about it is that you're trying to concentrate on not crashing your car while also enjoying the blowjob. What compounds the difficulty is worrying about who might pull up beside you and see what's going on.
That first girlfriend had nothing on Allie's skills. She sucked me with gusto, the stud in her tongue running up and down my shaft as she sloppily gobbled my pole. She had a look of absolute delight on her face as she worked my meat, completely unconcerned with who might see it. My truck sat up pretty high but I still got nervous every time we stopped at a light and traffic piled up around us. The second time we stopped, her head came off of my shaft and I thought she was stopping to keep from getting seen. Instead, she looked up at me with a repeat of that beautiful grin said: "Mmm, I missed this." She then pounced back on me and resumed her relentless sucking.
I was slow on the pedal as the light changed and a car horn startled me back to reality. I continued through the busy streets of our beautiful Southern city grinning at the unaware pedestrians and people in lower-sitting cars. They had no idea that this beauty was giving me the best blowjob of my life as we passed them. The cabin of my truck was filled up with the wet, churning sounds of Allie's mouth and throat on my cock. It felt like she was literally trying to suck the cum right out of my balls. I was in heaven.