For our second date, I dressed a little classier. I wore a dark blue knee-length pencil skirt and sheer pantyhose that I saved for days when I had a presentation to do for the board of directors. I ditched the matching blazer and settled for a light blue collared blouse. I wore my hair in a low ponytail and wore a small amount of makeup. I slipped into my signature black heels when I heard him knock at the door.

He laughed really hard at me when he saw my outfit. My face turned red as I grabbed my purse. He stood there in a loose pair of jeans with a white baseball jersey and black cap on his head. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to change?”

I held my head high and pushed past him out the door. I pulled it firmly shut behind me.

“No, I’m comfortable,” I huffed. 

He hung back a little. I knew he was checking out my ass in the skirt and heels. I swayed my hips a little extra as I walked away from him. When I got to the elevator I turned around with one hand on my hip and my weight resting on my back leg while I tapped the toe of my shoe impatiently. He had both hands in his pockets and pretended to stare off over my left shoulder. He whistled nonchalantly for added effect.

He led the way down the street to the transit station. He bought a pair of tickets and handed one to me. The train arrived a few minutes later. We stepped into a car already sporting several baseball fans amongst the occupants. He tucked himself across the opposite doors and held on to a strap from the bar above our heads. I did the same, facing away from him to watch the other passengers entering and leaving the train car.

Slowly, the train accelerated. He placed his hands on my hips, pulling my ass back into his crotch. He let the swaying of the transit car grind our bodies together. As excited fans continued to pile in we became physically closer.

Everyone was talking with excitement about the upcoming game. I felt the hardness of his cock straining through his jeans as he ran his hands up and down my butt and the back of my thighs. My heels brought me up to eye level with him.

He stood close enough so that no one else heard him softly speak of the filthy ideas that he told me. A bare hint of a smile touched the corners of my mouth. At our stop he untucked his shirt and hunched forward slightly, hiding the bulge in his jeans.

On our way to the ballpark, he stepped into an alley and rearranged himself so that his raging hard-on wouldn’t be as noticeable. 

“We could always do it right here,” he smiled as he dropped his shirt and slipped his hands into his pockets. I scrunched up my nose at the scent of the overflowing dumpster, pallets, and cardboard boxes that were scattered around the alley, before turning and walking back out on the sidewalk. 

We settled ourselves on the sundeck at a table that overlooked the ballpark. Parents milled around with their children before the game started. I casually watched a father with his daughter sitting on his shoulders. They wore matching ball caps and the little girl had a ball glove that was three times too big for her on her hand. Her father was explaining the field and the little girl listened with wide eyes.  

The deck cleared as the five-minute starting time was given. The anthem was sung by a man in a deep baritone on the pitcher’s mound. I glanced over at Des as we settled back in our seats. His erection still tented against the waistband of his jeans. He smiled lazily at me and winked as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his cock. It was turning purple at the tip as he softly skimmed his palms over his glans. My panties were drenched in juices at the sight of him. 

I found myself on my knees before him. I took him with my mouth and he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. I flicked my tongue under the head, on top of the scar where his foreskin used to be. I teased the remains of the nerve clusters that were once there. He gripped the armrests on his chair, gritting his teeth, trying not to moan. I found my rhythm, getting lost in the erotic nature of the deed for what seemed like ages.

He gasped and pushed me away. “Turn around,” he spoke quietly, grabbing my hips and guiding me. 

He pushed up my skirt, firmly squeezing my ass cheeks. He grunted in appreciation at the sight. My face flushed, secretly enjoying the way that he appreciated me.

“There's just one problem here,” I heard him say before my nylons were ripped open. “That's better.” 

He pushed aside the black thong and worked his fingers into me. My mind raced at the thought that we were doing this here, in public. On one hand, my heart galloped as if towards a precipice on a run-away horse. The professional part of my personality fought in vain to retain a bit of decency. He gripped me by the waist of my skirt and pulled me back onto his cock.

I closed my eyes, savoring the way his girth stretched me in all the right ways. I moaned as he gripped my ass and spread my cheeks. He growled deep in his throat as he worked my ass up and down on his burning hot cock. I tried not to make any noise, but a few gasps escaped my lips as the head of his cock penetrated deep inside me.

He began bucking his hips upward, forcing himself deeper into me. I cried out as his assault on my pussy became painful, but it felt so good! The angle, paired with the urgent tempo that he was using, drove me wild. He forced my hips back into his groin.

“You like that, you filthy slut?” he grunted. “You like it when I fuck your cunt like this?”

“Harder!” I gasped, surprising myself.

I felt like he was going to tear my womb apart. He rammed me down as deep as he could go inside me. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my skull and my insides burned as they were stretched to their limits.

His cock violently twitched and throbbed as he emptied his balls inside my tightly clenched pussy. We stayed coupled like that for a time, his cock plugging my hole so his baby batter could start a bun in my oven.

I got up first and pressed my thighs together. He reached forward and pulled my skirt down from where it was bunched around my waist. I collapsed into my seat, smoothing the creases in my skirt. He smirked as he put his spent cock back in his jeans. 

Two hours later we filed out of the baseball stadium, listening to the other patrons talk about the game. I spied the little girl, asleep on her dad’s shoulder. 

“Hey,” Desmond said, touching my arm, “you hungry?”

“Starving," I smiled back at him.

He led me to a hot dog shack just up the street. A faded sign read “The Dog House." An older gentleman in a clean apron and the local team’s ball cap took our orders. Des ordered a chili cheese dog and I had an original with sauerkraut and grilled onions. Des wrinkled his nose at my choice.

“What?” I asked, chuckling, "I can’t kick back and enjoy a hot dog?”

“Apparently we disagree on what we consider delicious.”

I thanked the old man as he handed me a paper tray with my hotdog on it. I gave him a twenty to pay for both of ours and told him to keep the change. He smiled and tipped his ball cap to me. 

We sat on a bench to eat. While we talked and ate, the sun went down over the city. Darkening navy blue skies brought the city lights out. We talked about our day jobs. I worked for a tech firm as a marketing director; he was a structural engineer. We swapped stories about our undergraduate degrees and bureaucratic nightmares that we got stuck cleaning up. Conversation flowed back and forth easily between us.

He slipped his arm around me when he noticed that I was beginning to shiver. I rested my head on his shoulder. I sighed happily. A small voice in the back of my mind wished that we could stay together like this. My heart sank as a voice of reason reminded me of our contract.

“Des,” I said quietly, “I can’t do this.”

He withdrew his hand from around me. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“I think I’m falling for you,” I blurted. 

Des froze. 

“I don’t think it's a good idea for us to keep seeing each other." I got up from the bench and crossed my arms in front of myself. I was trying so hard to hold it together. 

“Alice... ”

I looked back over my shoulder at him. 

“Keep your fee. I thought I could go through with this... but I can’t.”