Tamara Witmer, Miss August 2005

A little over a year ago I got a fellowship to work at a major university in the Los Angeles area. I was doing stuff in one of those secret labs that if the public learned about there would be riots because of all the nuclear materials we study. It's a great situation for me; I work with two Nobel physicists and, since they're in Europe, I'm really the main investigator on this project. Maybe I'll win my own Nobel Prize one day. But you're not interested in that. You want to know about what happened on my night job.

A post-doc fellow makes very little money so I took a position as the night manager at a bowling alley near the lab. Basically my job is to close the place down each night about 2AM. I'm not really into bowling and it's a pretty boring job, at least it was until a few months ago. When I came in for my shift one night there was a message from the owner. Somebody was paying to keep the alleys open for a few extra hours so I'd have to stay late. The bad news was less sleep for me; the good news, extra pay with a nice tip at the end.

Sure enough about 1:45AM a burly body guard type came in. He was dressed all in black with a shaved head and even had one of those head sets so he can talk to his partners. He looked around; the place was empty anyway. He spotted me and gave me a nod, "You're the night man, sir?"

"Yes, I am." I was amused by the seriousness of his demeanor.

He asked if anybody else was around and I told him no. He handed me an envelop with three crisp hundred dollar bills. "For your trouble, sir. And we'd appreciate if you kept this arrangement strictly confidential."

"No problem."

He talked into his Dick Tracy headset, "Alright, send in the package."

I guess security guys refer to their clients as packages because the only package that came in was a stunning body wrapped in a tight tank top and even tighter jeans. She was tall and long in everyway. Her golden blonde hair streamed down over her shoulders and shimmered as she strutted to the alley carrying her gear. Her face was almost triangular but soft with really kissable lips. Her eyes sparkled with about a million different colors. The odd thing is that she had a very sad, distant look on her face. She was a beautiful woman, clearly super high maintenance; I figured some movie star I'd never heard of.

She sat on the bench at a lane the furthest away from my counter but I could still see her fine. With dainty movements she took off her shoes. I guess I gulped loudly but I had never seen such a sexy act. Man, she was taking off her shoes and wiggling her toes but she was giving off the most incredible sensual vibes. She heard my reaction and the tiniest smile crossed her lips.

She put on her own bowling shoes and went to work. She was all business, frame after frame. She was an expert and she set up all sorts of challenges for herself. She just kept moving in a real athletic way. Every once in awhile she'd smile to herself. The bodyguard just stood by the door staring into space. I just sat and stared at her.

After about an hour she came over to me. It was like one of those commercials where the beautiful girl moves in slow motion for a close up. Her face and chest were glistening with sweat. She stood in front of me and she smelled great.

"Hi, thanks for staying open for me. I really needed this work out."

"No problem."

"Can I get a drink?"

I explained that the bar was close down but there was a soda machine near the door. She called over to the bodyguard who turned out to be Danny, but Danny had no change. She had to borrow the money from me. She came back pressing the can to her forehead to cool off. The condensation from the cold metal against her warm skin dripped down onto the cleavage of her chest can gathered like little jewels between her shapely breasts. I was glad I was behind the counter so she couldn't see my hard-on.

"Thanks for the soda. I'm Tamara in case you didn't know." She held out her hand to shake; it was moist and warm but she had a firm grip too.

"I'm James."

"James, not Jim? Well, I like James; it suits you. Do you bowl James?"

"Not really, I'm sort of a grad student."

"Too bad, it would be fun to play with you." She smiled at her mildly flirtatious remark. "Do you mind if I knock down a few more pins?"

I was happy to accommodate her and took great pleasure in watching her ass wiggle down to the lane. I glanced over at the guard but he just stood there stone-faced. She only went for another half hour or so and then put on her street shoes and packed her gear. As she passed the counter she waved. "Thank you so much James. Is there any chance we can do this again on Friday?" I agreed that it would be my pleasure and she and Danny were gone.

She came back that Friday around 2:30. OK, I admit I stayed late in the hopes she arrived. She seemed pleased that I waited but even with her smile that deep sadness was underneath. Danny gave the place the once over and handed me another envelop with cash and then left. "I told Danny he could stay outside with the chauffeur. I really don't get much privacy lately. It's nice to be alone here." She smiled as if she had a secret. "Well, alone with you anyway." I was left to ponder this as she began her workout, this time at a lane right in front of me. Her ass put on an amazing show as it rolled in those tight, tight jeans every time she sent the ball down.

When she took her break she proudly showed me a roll of quarters and she bought sodas for me and the two guys outside too. "See I always pay my debts." She leaned on the counter and drank slowly; she didn't say anything more and I figured it best to leave her alone with her thoughts. But I did steal glances at the elegant curves of her body; she had worked up quite a sweat and the damp tank top clung to the bra that barely covered her breasts. "OK, one more set!" She slammed her empty can down on the counter. She bowled furiously, as if the pins were people she wanted to knock down.

For the next few weeks she came in every few days; sometimes she would set a date as she left, sometimes she would call on the spur of the moment. Each time she would bowl like a champion, then she'd take a break while hanging around the counter without saying much, just lost in whatever pressures were weighing her down, then she'd bowl like a banshee for half an hour or so. Each of these sessions got more and more intense. Finally, she'd quietly pack up and leave.

One night she came in visibly upset. She was not dressed for bowling at all. She had on this pink lacy thing that was real tight and held up by thin straps. You could see plenty of skin; her nipples were almost poking out through the threads. The short black skirt barely covered her bottom and pink panties, matching the top, peeked out every time she bent down. Her hands were shaking as she tied her bowling shoes and the banshee bowling started right away. It was clear that her game was off.

Suddenly the constant crashing of the pins stopped and she just stood there holding her ball and trembling. Without a word her hand dropped down and the heavy ball hit the floor with a thud. She started really shaking and crying now. I ran over and helped her to the bench; she was crying in big heaving sobs now. I started to unlace her shoes.

"What on earth are you doing?" she whined through her tears.

"You dropped the ball on your foot. Didn't you?"

She smiled through her tears and leaned over and snuggled into my chest. I was dizzy from the sweet aroma of her hair tickling my face. "Oh, you're so nice. No, silly, I'm just having a girlie fit. I'm just so tired and keyed up and pissed off. I had another pie event tonight and it was just too much. The only place I could come to was here."

"What's pie?" The way she was dressed brought up images of some kind of pornographic bake-off.

"Pee, Eee, Eye. It's...Oh, never mind. Just let me stay here for awhile." She pressed her face deeper into my chest and wrapped her arm around my neck. She cried quietly for a long time. All I could do was stroke her hair and stay still. If I moved the erection I was growing would brush against the bare skin of her leg.

She slowly stopped crying but kept herself tightly locked against me. She shift a little and her free hand fluttered down onto my leg. She lazily brushed it up my thigh and up onto my stomach but then it paused there and as if it was doing a double take the soft hand reversed itself and stopped over my crotch and rested over my swelling cock.

I couldn't see her face because she was looking down into my lap. "What's this? Oh, you men are all the same are you?" She giggled a little and it sounded like chimes after her heavy tears. Her hand was rubbing my crotch in dreamy up and down motions. "Do you have a girlfriend James?" I could barely mutter a reply. "I don't have a boyfriend either. I guess we're just two lonely people," she sighed.

"I'm glad I met you James. You've been so nice. It's like I can only be myself around you." Her hand was still moving but she turned her face to look at me. Her eyes were glassy from her tears but she had that secret smile, her moist lips glistened and her white teeth flashed in the light for a moment. "Would you mind if I kissed you James?" Well, what would you do. I nodded in a manly way and she pulled herself up and those warm lips softly caressed my cheek and swept across my lips. She put her head on my shoulder and her tongue darted teasingly over a patch of skin on my neck.

We stayed like that for awhile; I think my body was shaking in my efforts to control myself under the warm massage of her hand on my cock. After awhile she lifted her head up. "You know James, I get ordered around all day. 'Stand here, look there, wear this, meet him;' I can't stand it! For just a little while I want to be in charge." She gave my erection a firm squeeze; she used the muscles she used to hold her large heavy bowling ball and I almost burst a load into my pants. "I know you're a strong guy James, and smart too. But will you let me take charge?"

She didn't wait for a reply. Her fingers left my cock and she took her hand off my neck. "Now I don't want you to move unless I tell you to; just let me do things to you." She gave a devilish grin. "I think you'll like it." Her hands quickly undid my pants and she pushed them down to the floor after pulling off my shoes. Then she tugged my tee shirt off over my head. She sat back and examined my naked body. "Mmmm, not to shabby." With a vise like grip she began to knead my shoulders, then my chest, working her way down to my thighs. She got hold of my cock again and snuggled back with her head on my shoulder. "I need another kiss James." This time her lips parted as she approached me and I saw the pink tip of her tongue glide over her teeth as she pressed her mouth over mine. The scent of her hair and the taste of her mouth mixed with the tight pressure of her hand on my cock. I put all my energy, all the tingling from her sensuality into that kiss.

She leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "That was nice, but what do you do for an encore?" We kissed again and her mouth was wild and greedy now. Her hand pressed too tightly and a bolt of me shot up and landed on her skirt. She looked down at it and giggled. "Now, we're getting somewhere."

She pushed me down onto the cold vinyl of the bench and straddled my hips. "I'm going to show you something James. In a few weeks millions of men will see this but tonight it's only you. It's always only you." She pulled down one strap and gently shoved the fabric down off the most beautiful globe of flesh I'd ever seen. It was a firm creamy mound, quivering slightly under my gaze. It was topped by a flaming red nipple that pointed straight at me. "You like this James? Here." Now the other strap came down.

She leaned forward. No, don't move," she admonished as my hands reached out for those succulent breasts. She started to kiss me as she stabbed those nipples into my chest. She rocked her body up and down rubbing those mounds over me. Then she sat up and cupped them and looked down at me proudly. "Would you like a taste?" With that she fed me each of them in turn, pressing and twisting them into my mouth, encouraging me to gorge myself greedily.

Tamara sat back on my hips and giving me a seductive look pushed the lacy top down past her waist and up over her legs. She tossed it into my face with a laugh. She rocked her ass up and down over my cock and smiled.

"You've been such a good boy but now it's time to get really naughty." She hooked her thumb into her skirt and pushed it down along with the panties. Now completely nude she wasted no time in twisting her body around until her thighs were covering my face. I had never seen a clean shaven pussy; is it still called a pussy? But I knew just what to do. As my tongue plunged into her, he mouth took my cock in a voracious gulp.

Now some girls suck hard, some pump up and down, some lick and nibble. Tamara did it all and more. Her mouth was a black hole of sexual pleasure and I crashed in like a planet being consumed. At the same time her sweet juices dripped down into my throat like honey. The smoothness of her pussy lips was eerie but my tongue danced and writhed, guided by her obvious enjoyment. She moved her body to send my mouth exactly where she needed it to go. Every drop of her was a hot new taste; I feasted hungrily.

Her tongue wrapped around me like a snake and her teeth scratched and she drew me deeper and deeper into her. As her head bobbed up and down her golden hair caressed my thighs. She used her hand to control the flow of my seed as it built up at the base. Finally her tongue rested against the tip of my cock and it seemed like it could dig in and tickle the inside of the shaft. She let go of the base and plunged her head down to capture all my flooding seed at the back of her throat. At that moment a wave of her juices filled my mouth with her orgasm.

We lay like that for awhile with my cock resting against her cheek and her hand absently stroking it. When it became semi-hard that was enough for her. She climbed up and kneeled over it hold the tip at the entrance to her sexy tunnel. She dropped down with glee and rode me like a wild horse. Her breasts and hair flew and her arms waved straight over her head. Her belly fluttered in and out like an exotic dancer and her hips bounced up and down and sideways and backwards so my cock pounded into her from every direction. She opened and closed her thighs to cinch and loosen the tight grasp her sheath held on my staff.

She looked so happy writhing and bucking over my body. Even as she gushed over me and my orgasm crashed into hers she kept dancing wildly. She was finally free.

When she had no more and my weary cock could give no more she lay down next to me and snuggled happily. But in a few minutes the door opened. Danny called out, "Miss Witmer? We're going to have to get going." We were hidden by the back of the vinyl seat. Tamara giggled as she called out, "Once second Danny. I'll be out in a bit."

She pressed a finger on my lip as she sat up. "Don't say anything. I've got to go. I'm going to be real busy for awhile but you'll hear from me soon." She quickly dressed watching me the whole time. It was almost as sexy to see her put her clothes on as to watch her take them off. "Thanks for everything James. I'll be back." With a quick peck on the cheek she was gone.

About a week later there was a Federal Express package waiting for me at work. Inside was the August 2005 edition of Playboy Magazine. And there was Tamara in the centerfold. I can tell you she is a lot prettier in person.

It was signed, "Dearest James,

You are the best in every way,

xxxxx,

Tamara"

There was letter too but that was personal. I can't wait until the fall and all the promotional stuff dies down and Tamara has time for her bowling.