My name is Megan and I love to make dreams come true. Sometimes they are my dreams, but like the old saying goes, it is better to give than to receive. On rare occasions when things fall into place perfectly, everybody gets what they dream of.
I'm twenty eight and live in the Midwest. Someday I'll figure out what to do with my life. I did the mandatory (in my family, anyway) college routine, majoring in parties. I've worked on and off as a legal secretary, but it generally bores me. Besides, most of the attorneys strictly follow their firms' rules of 'hands off the secretaries.'
I mean, why be a legal secretary if you can't find a rich, single attorney?
So I agreed to work in the deli owned by my on-again, off-again boyfriend, Rick. He's about ten years older than me, but doesn't look it. I've always liked older guys; especially good looking, well built ones who love to fuck. Using those criteria, Rick is the best guy I've ever known.
But no matter how satisfied he keeps me, my longstanding love of flirting has never faded. Part of the allure of flirting is knowing that the guy you are flirting with has a dream. I enjoy giving the right guy reason to believe his dream could come true.
The opportunities I have to flirt are endless because Rick has me work the counter and cash register at the deli. Each day, hundreds of people come in during breakfast and lunch. The counter is not one of those shoulder high things you see in New York. It comes up to about my waist, so I'm constantly leaning over to write orders.
You're probably already envisioning the scene. I wear lots of t-shirts and tank tops. I have very average breasts that would nicely fill a B-cup if I ever bothered to buy a bra. I hate bras.
I love looking up at a male customer and finding his eyes squarely planted on my semi-exposed tits. As long as it doesn't interfere with taking the order and getting his money, it doesn't bother me. In fact, I like it. Call me an exhibitionist. I've been called worse.
My second favorite task at work is cleaning the tables. That gives me an opportunity to flash tits AND ass as I quickly move from one table to the next, bending over as I spray them and wipe them down. I can feel my shirt rise up and my jeans or shorts ride a little lower on my ass. I can also feel the eyes of the men around me.
We have regular customers—ones that come in several times a week. I know most of them by name and they appreciate the fact that I know their orders; who wants hot mustard or no onions or rye bread.
Brian is one of my favorite regulars.
Brian is probably in his early forties; very professional; very striking, and a little shy. He orders the daily special, no matter what it is. I've been attracted to him from the start and had to be extra attentive to get him to acknowledge me over a period of time. He's one who is a little more discreet in his efforts to catch a fleeting glimpse of my breasts. I think it's cute.
Recently, he even mentioned a slight change in the way I styled my shoulder length brown hair. So, I knew then that he was ripe for further flirting and teasing.
He kind of became a target for me. The poor man never knew what hit him.
I have to admit that I never intended for things to go as far as they did, but at the same time I never tried very hard to prevent it, either. It was one of those snowball effects that kept going and going and going. The initial push down the hill occurred one day after work, in the middle of the afternoon, as I was walking down the sidewalk on the way to a bus stop.
"Hey, Megan. Need a ride?"
I turned to face the car that pulled up next to me. Brian was driving.
"Oh, hi. No. That's OK. I'm taking a bus. My car is in the shop...again," I told him.
It was oppressively hot outside and I could feel the air conditioning from the car hit my face as I leaned closer.
"You sure?" he asked. "I have plenty of time, wherever you need to go."
I was still inclined to decline, but the cool air and the thought of riding with him changed my mind. It wasn't like I was getting into the car of a total stranger. Kind of.
"Oh...OK," I finally said.
I quickly jogged around the back of the car and jumped in the front seat. He was pulling back into traffic as I pulled the seat belt across my chest and lap. I saw him watching me.
"Where to?" he asked.
"Uh, Victorian Village area. High and Fifth. I can walk the rest of the way."
It was a twenty minute drive at the most. How much trouble could I get into in that short amount of time, right?
In the couple of minutes that it took me to explain my car problems, Brian inspected every inch of my legs up to the bottom of my shorts and the enticing view created by the seat belt slanting between my breasts. I didn't react, but as each mile passed it became harder and harder not to. I turned so I was facing him a little bit more, causing the seat belt to tug on my t-shirt and offer more cleavage than before. I curled one leg under me and went into full flirt mode.
We were only about five minutes away from my place when I finally undid the seat belt and scooted over on the seat. Traffic was almost nonexistent as we were now in a neighborhood and off the main streets. I put a hand on the top of Brian's right leg.
"Thanks for the ride, Brian," I said with a slight movement of my hand up and down his leg. "I owe you a free Coke at lunch...or something."
His nervous grin proved to me I was having the desired effect. "Anytime, Megan."
"It's right up here," I said. "At the next stop sign, turn right. Then pull into the first alley on the right."
My hand was on the inside of his thigh by the time we were in the alley that led behind my house. As normal, there wasn't a soul in sight.
"Right here. Just pull over," I told him.
Brian pulled into a spot behind the garage and put the car in park.
I was already leaning over to him. My lips touched the side of his face at the same time that my fingers slid up the outside of his pants to his crotch. He smiled and turned to face me with the intent of saying something, but my mouth was on top of his before he could speak. The kiss and my hand's contact with his cock were simultaneous.
The results were predictable. He grew harder by the second as my tongue slid inside his mouth and my hand clutched at his cock. Brian's kiss was tentative, but his erection was definite. Even through his pants I felt him grow longer and longer, harder and harder.
I ended the kiss and used both hands to quickly open and unzip his pants. I saw him look around the deserted alley.
"Megan. I don't think you..."
"Shhhhhhh," I replied. "Relax."
By then I had his throbbing penis out of his pants and in my right hand. I had to admit that I was pleasantly surprised at the size of the thing and somewhat disappointed that I knew I wouldn't be able to do much with it under the circumstances. Still, I stroked it a couple times and then lowered my head.
This time my response was a long lick from the base to the tip of his cock. I heard him moan as I circled the huge head with my tongue. I put it between my lips and waited. A couple seconds later, I started down.
Brian's entire body stiffened. I saw him do another reconnaissance of the neighborhood and then I concentrated on giving him the quickest, but best, blowjob of his life. The entire time, I tried to imagine his cock splitting open my pussy while I squeezed him with my warm, moist hole. I was probably closer to cumming than he was when he said with alarm, "Megan! Stop!"
I only opened my mouth wide enough to say, "Why?"
"Somebody's coming," he said in a hushed tone.
"Yeah. You are."
"Get up," he said, pushing my head away and at the same time frantically trying to get his huge, wet cock back inside his pants.
I smiled at the scene as I sat up, not even looking around to determine if the offending passerby was on foot or in a car. It didn't matter to me. My point had been made.
"You're no fun," I said mockingly.
"Do you think I WANTED you to stop?"
"Sounded like it," I said. "Anyway, thanks for the ride, Brian. Have a fun ride home."
I made sure my eyes were locked firmly on his crotch as I spoke. After getting out of the car, I looked at him and licked my lips. The look on his face was priceless: half desperation; half panic. He sped away kicking up gravel in his haste.
Brian waited nearly a week before coming back to the deli for lunch. That didn't surprise me. But if he thought it was over, he was sadly mistaken. On top of that, he chose to come alone and he came near the end of the lunch rush. Bad choices—unless, of course, he wanted to talk to me.
He had been eating for about ten minutes when I found an opportunity to grab a towel and the table cleaner and head out into his section, wiping tables one by one as I got closer to him. I gave Brian every conceivable angle to view my body. Then I was next to him.
"Hey, Megan. Do you guys do catering?" Brian asked.
"Lunch?" I said, turning to face him.
"Sure," I said. "What do you have in mind?"
"We have a big staff meeting coming up. It would just be sandwiches," he said.
"We do box lunches that include chips and one side," I explained. "Talk to Rick about the specifics."
Brian nodded and I added, "Oh. And I'll deliver it. I expect a tip."
He saw my eyes peering at his crotch.
"I do kinda owe you," he said.
"I won't leave until I'm sure you're satisfied with the service."
With that, I twirled away and left him with a view of my swaying ass. I never expected the introverted man to address what happened in his car, especially while sitting in a public deli. I just wanted him to think about what might happen on the day I 'delivered' lunch.
That day came one week later. I had sufficient warning to know to wear something special to work. I chose one of my tightest denim skirts and a sleeveless blouse with plenty of buttons and no bra. My goal was to make Brian's choice of sides as difficult as possible.
I was a little surprised that I was as nervous as I was as the time to make the delivery approached. After all, it was very possible I would get to Brian's office and not be able to do anything except drop off the ten boxes. On the other hand, it was very possible I would be able to tease him just a little bit more and get closer to my ultimate objective: bringing Brian to his knees, quite literally.
It wasn't until I was almost ready to walk out the door with the order that I asked Rick what Brian had ordered.
"Ten daily specials," he replied.
I grinned and shrugged. "Of course. Men are so predictable."
Brian's office building was one of the newer ones in town, with wide open spaces in the lobby and lots of glass everywhere. It didn't bode well for my objective of being alone, privately, with Brian as I envisioned all the offices on the upper floors being the same design.
But I felt better when I got off the elevator and saw that the layout was more traditional, with plenty of awful cubicles in the center and closed offices around the outside.
The receptionist was quick to spot me. Perhaps it was the two huge plastic bags full of box lunches.
"Is this lunch for the staff meeting?" she inquired when I got closer.
"Yes. For Brian," I said.
"In here," the middle-aged woman said, rising from her seat and leading me down a hallway.
Soon, we were entering a conference room with a twenty foot long table in the center and a dozen or so high-back seats surrounding it.
"Just put it on the table for now," the receptionist said.
I was fearful that my visit might be considerably shorter than I desired when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw somebody enter the room.
"Hello, Megan. Right on time."
Brian smiled as I stepped back from the table, empty handed. I returned his smile.
"Thanks, Mary Ann. I'll take it from here," Brian told the receptionist with authority.
We waited for her to exit. In those few seconds, Brian took a visual inventory of my outfit.
"I hope everybody enjoys the lunch," I said.
"Oh, I'm sure they will."
He walked over to me.
"Here's your receipt," I said, watching him quickly stuff the piece of paper in his pants pocket. "We don't include a gratuity."
"Then we'll need to work something out separately, won't we?"
"Come with me," he said.
A short walk brought us to the largest, most ornate office I'd ever seen—not that I'd seen that many. But this one was gorgeous and, best yet, totally private when Brian shut the door behind us.
"Isn't Rick expecting you back soon?" Brian asked.
I strode just ahead of Brian, around his desk, and towards his executive chair. I dragged my fingers across the top of the smoothly finished desk. Then I plopped down into the chair, tilting it backwards and rotating it until I faced him. He stared at my slouching body with just the look I was after...pure lust.
"Then I shouldn't keep you long," he said.
I slipped one foot out of my shoe and lifted it to the front of his pants, planting it squarely on his cock.
"But I want to keep YOU long."
There was no doubt in my mind he had a view of my panties as my foot pressed harder on his crotch. Brian put both hands under my calf and slowly moved his hands up past my knee and onto my thigh. I felt shivers deep inside my pussy as he gently massaged my leg. I could feel his erection growing.
Two buttons at the top of my blouse were already open. I used both hands to open the third, revealing a good portion of both tits and giving Brian an opportunity to gaze. But only momentarily. His hands progressed up my leg and under my skirt, causing his eyes to refocus in that area. I slid a hand inside my blouse as his fingers reached the bottom of my panties.
My leg was bent to give him access to my pussy, but my foot never lost contact with his ever-hardening cock. I rubbed it the best I could using my toes and the sole of my foot. All the while, he watched me play with my tit under the thin material of my blouse.
His hand began to sense the moisture collecting on my panties. He pressed the fabric against my skin, searching out my throbbing clit and succeeding in finding it, resulting in a quiet sigh of delight from me.
"Is this the appetizer? Your succulent clit?" he said.
"Or perhaps...," I said, pulling aside my blouse to reveal one tit and a fully erect nipple.
I squirmed in the chair as his hand slid inside my panties and worked over my clit with renewed vigor. Then, without ever taking his hand off my pussy, he brushed my foot away with his other hand and came closer. He leaned down and put my tit in his mouth, licking and sucking on it until I was ready to cry out with pleasure. Two of his fingers found my pussy and were forcefully thrust inside.
"Quiet," he whispered.
I was gasping from the attention he was paying my tit and pussy. He seemed to have no intent on stopping until I came, which wasn't going to be much longer.
"C'mon, Megan. I want to hear you moan when you cum."
I undid one more button on the blouse and he eagerly switched tits. Then I clutched at his cock and wrapped my fingers around it the best I could through his pants. I stroked him frantically while my orgasm approached.
"Oh my God, Brian. Yes!"
He was finger fucking me harder, faster. He bit my nipple and pulled on it with his teeth. I lifted my ass off the chair and waited for the inevitable climax.
Then the buzzing of his phone nearly made me jump straight up.
"Shit!" Brian exclaimed, removing his hand from my pussy.
He punched at the phone.
"Yes," he said in an undeniable tone of frustration.
"Mr. Collins is here for lunch," a female voice informed him.
"I'll be right there."
He stood up in front of me, the bulge in his pants very, very noticeable.
"That's my boss," he said. "Get dressed. We have to go."
As I buttoned my blouse, I said, "I guess we ARE even now."
"Sorry. Maybe next time," Brian replied.
As I walked back to the deli, I knew there would be a next time but wondered what Brian thought. Did he believe his one chance was gone forever? Would he try to find a way to be with me again?
The image of the tent in the front of his pants made me smile. The poor man. I considered it my duty to make things 'straight' with him. This time, there would be no interruptions.
Several more days passed before Brian came back to the deli for lunch. He looked especially good in his perfectly ironed shirt and tie; or I was especially horny. Either way, he was about to get the offer of a lifetime.
I lingered behind the counter during the worst of the lunch hour rush and then meandered over to Brian's table. I pulled out the extra chair and sat down.
"Good to see you again, Brian," I said.
"Do you think it's time to finally, um, finish what we started?" I asked.
"Right now? Here?"
The smirk on his face assured me he was teasing.
"We do have a storage room. But I had something more private in mind."
He sneered. "Privacy doesn't seem to matter to you."
I leaned over the table and said softly, "That was foreplay."
When I knew I had his attention, I added, "Can you find my place again if you had to?"
"Good," I said. "Can you come by Friday night?"
"Park in the back, by the garage. Come to the back door. Is seven o'clock OK?"
He thought for a second. "Yep."
"I'll be ready."
I smiled and left him alone with his thoughts. I hoped the reality would be even better than anything he was dreaming of.
There's a special satisfaction I get out of making older guys' dreams come true. Most of the time it's in the form of online video chats where I flash a little skin and watch some guy I don't know shoot cum out of a cock I'll never touch. It's safe and fairly harmless.
But there's nothing quite like the physical act; watching the look on his face; hearing the groans of pleasure normally reserved for his private masturbation moments while watching porn flicks on his iPad.
I didn't know Brian's personal habits. I didn't care. But he was cute and had a great cock and I wanted it. In the process, I would have fulfilled a dream. Not a bad tradeoff.
The night Brian was scheduled to arrive, I wore a football jersey with a pair of terry cloth shorts underneath that were half the size of typical boxer shorts. The jersey was a woman's cut, with a deep dip in the neckline and a snug fit everywhere else. It hid the shorts very well and made it appear I had nothing else on. I didn't plan on wearing the jersey for too long.
When I heard the knock on the back door at a few minutes past seven, I peeked out the kitchen window and saw Brian, ever the professional, in dress shorts and a golf shirt. I smiled to myself and opened the door.
"You found it. I'm glad," I said.
"I'm not sure I can easily forget that parking spot."
I let him in and closed the door.
"Will you pay attention to me this time?" I asked.
He glanced up and down my body. "No problem."
I wanted to set the tone early. I moved closer him and started a long, passionate kiss. Our arms wrapped around each other and he had to figure out very quickly that there wasn't much under the jersey. I felt his hands, always outside the shirt, clutching at my ass. I made sure he felt my tits against his chest.
Eventually I broke off the kiss and said, "Let's go into the other room."
Brian looked a little dazed as we entered the family room and I offered him a drink, which he accepted. A few moments later, we were together on the couch chatting as if we'd known each other forever. For all his timidity, Brian was certainly capable of holding his own in a conversation. It's one of many reasons why I love older men.