Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
"No," she teased, "not until we get back to the hotel."
------
That turned out to be quite a memorable night. As the club got busier, people on the dance floor got packed closer together, which made it harder for onlookers to gape. Further, we both had plenty to drink; I asked her to get one of her freebies while I ran to the john, and discovered that as long as she went up by herself and asked for just one drink, they never charged her for it. So we just kept sharing drinks; I swear that outfit paid for itself in free drinks. It was 3am before we got back to the hotel, and that's when the real fun started.
We got in the room and embraced in front of the bed. We started swaying gently, like we were slow dancing. "So," she purred in a soft, sultry voice, "what is it about these clothes that get you all worked up?" Her eyes were sparkling with devilish intentions.
"Mmm
"I have other shirts that have much lower necklines," she pointed out quietly.
"That you do," I agreed, standing up and kissing her again. "But then there's also the matter of your lovely little belly
She cocked her head to one side for a moment. "I have other shirts that show more of my belly."
"Yes you do
She lifted one leg slightly behind her, glancing over her shoulder to look at the shoes. "I do like the shoes. But I wear heels to work every day..."
"Yes you do, and I love every single one of THEM, too
"I've got other skirts kind of like this," she protested. "But I suppose you've never seen me wear them
"You're welcome to wear them any time
She flashed her eyebrows at me. "Definitely not
"Well,
"That is something new for me. The salesgirl had to talk me into them
"I'll have to write that girl a personal thank-you note
"Well,
She knitted her brow, pretending to be thinking about a deep philosophical question. "So they're sexy... because it feels like you're looking at something you're not supposed to?"
"More than that
"Yes... that's true," she said mildly, but her face communicated readiness to get nasty.
"And when your hand is touching that bare thigh... you can feel the warmth of that special place..." I slipped my hand all the way up the thigh to the crotch, and was now touching her thong. She closed her eyes for a moment and I felt her hip grind slightly as my fingers gently teased her most sensitive areas.
"What else do you feel?" she purred.
"Your underwear feels... a bit moist," I observed. Indeed, the thin fabric of her thong was damp like it had been pulled from the dryer halfway through its cycle.
"You should see how it feels inside them."
"I think that's a wonderful idea," I agreed, pulling the fabric aside and touching her slit. She bit her lip and her hips ground again as my fingers gently touched her labia. Her pussy was quite warm and wet; it seemed our little sexy talk was getting her motor running quite effectively. I probed gently, and found my fingers had no difficulty penetrating into her boiling depths. She closed her eyes again, ground her hips, and knitted her brow with a grunt of exquisite pleasure. Her pussy wanted me to touch it--wanted me to touch it very much.
With two fingers slipping in and out of her pussy, my thumb now rubbing her engorged clit and Sam's hips grinding against my hand, she tried to finish the conversation. "So... you like... the thigh highs
"Oh, that's not all," I added, trying to sound suave. I LOVED it when Sam wanted me like this. "Thigh highs also offer other possibilities."
"Oh?"
"Yes," I agreed... and caught her by complete surprise, toppling her onto the bed. But I didn't fall on top of her; rather, I knelt at the foot of the bed, and positioned her hips right at the edge. Like the raising of a curtain, I dramatically lifted her skirt up to her hips. She helpfully bent her knees and lifted her black-clad legs high and to the sides. With a slight, gentle adjustment, the thong was secured off the side where it wouldn't interfere. Then I pressed my face between her thighs and began to lick her already excited pussy.
I felt her move, which I had anticipated--I knew she would want to be giving as well as receiving pleasure. But not tonight, at least not yet. I wanted to taste and tease her until she climaxed--and then we could consider the next step. So when she moved, I held firm. I had great leverage over her hips, so she would have had to really fight to get free of me--and had no interest in doing so. I did, however, reach my hand upwards, feeling for her face. She let me touch her face, then she kissed my finger--and then she sucked it. Oh god... she sucked it with a vengeance. Even though it was just my finger, I could just picture her working it--my already hard dick jumped in response.
I felt her hands fall away even as she continued to simulate sucking on my finger. I sensed she was doing something--my face was glued to her pussy, so I could feel any move she made. I had no idea what until I felt her hand touch mine again. She sucked the finger a little more, then she rested my hand on her chest and slowly guided it along her skin. I felt the landscape rise slightly, and then I felt her magnificent, extra-large nipple. She had somehow exposed her breasts, and now had guided my eager fingers over to find them. I wasted no time in tweaking the mini-monuments in my fingers, firmly but not rough. I did it entirely by touch, because my face was buried in Sam's thighs and not going anywhere until the job was done.
The bucking in Sam's hips grew stronger as her excitement built. She put one leg back on the floor while hooking her other heel onto the edge of the bed. This gave her leverage to satisfy her need to grind her hips while still being able to splay her legs widely to provide me with access. The bucking of her hips got so strong she kept bumping into my face, but I kept chasing that moving target and licking it every time I caught up with it. My fingers, meanwhile, were squeezing the nipples. Her moaning grew louder,
With mission accomplished, I finally let Sam escape from my grasp. She was on my like lightning; joining me on the floor, kissing me intensely. The fact that my face was glazed in her juices seemed to make her kisses even more passionate. Then she pushed me down right there on the floor, and in a flash had my penis free from my new pants. All the intensity that her orgasm had created was now directed to the task of pleasuring my penis with her mouth. Her lips wrapped around me, her tongue pleasured me. She stretched her neck, trying to force my penis as deeply into mouth as her throat would permit. And she was relentless. No slow licking or pauses for breath this time; she was sucking for keeps. I noticed that she was holding my penis steady with one hand, but the other was between her own thighs, rubbing herself, exciting herself as she blew me. I'd never seen her do that before, but this was probably the most positively horny I'd ever seen her. It was awesome!
Just as I'd done to her, she had my hips pinned to the ground, a willing captive to her insistence on pleasuring me. She was sucking unbelievably intensely, unbelievably amazingly... I had held her down until she came, and now she was returning the favor. "Oh my god... I'm gonna cum!" I warned, giving her a chance to move the howitzer to some other quarter before it exploded. Instead, she sucked even faster, coaxing the sperm from my balls. "Oh!" I cried out, but by then it was too late to stop. Sam laid her tongue along the bottom of my prick and held me between her lips while I filled her mouth with goo. She waited until the last spasm of orgasm was over, then carefully slurped her lips clear of my dick, careful not to spill a drop, and swallowed my load.
She sat up; I sat up too, and we exchanged tongues right there on the floor. I didn't care if her mouth was still salty, it was my fault for that anyway. We sat there kissing until I was ready to go with round two. We slipped off to the bedroom. I stripped and she pulled her thong off, but otherwise she lay in the middle of the bed, thoughtfully leaving her other clothes on. They really accentuated her sexiness, and with her skirt pulled up, thigh-highs and shirt open and pushed aside, there was nothing that I didn't have complete access to anyway. Our lips met, our genitals intertwined, and we made love late into the night. We did sleep eventually, but we were up so late that we barely got out of the hotel by checkout time. A tired Sam slept on my shoulder on the plane all the way home. It felt wonderful.
-------
Back at work, I tried one last time to talk to Red about all the unnecessary travel, but he was still wanting to send me all over the place. So I went to talk to Dad, who took care of the problem by framing it as an expense issue and cutting Red's travel budget. Then on Sam's Wednesday morning radio slot, she slipped in a mention that she had spent the weekend in New Yorkwith her boyfriend. She spent the rest of the show being grilled about me, but she skillfully deflected anything too personal, and I felt better now that the city knew.
The team was just back in town and had a practice scheduled that afternoon; I hoped she would also nab Johnny Mill. Late in the afternoon, Sam came into my office looking upset. She never came to visit me at work. She closed the door behind her as she came in. I could tell right away something was wrong.
"I feelterrible. I feel like such a bad person..." she moaned vaguely.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa—you're definitely not a bad person. What happened?"
She frowned guilty-like. "I did what you asked me to—I ran into Johnny Mill, asked him how the road trip was, then it was easy enough to mention that I'd gone to New York with my boyfriend on the weekend. The look on his face... he was so... crestfallen. He tried to play it cool, but I could see it in his eyes, he was really hurt and disappointed. I can't believe it—you were totally right! He must have thought I was interested in him—he's probably been working up the nerve to ask me out! I feel terrible—it's all my fault. I've been leading him on all this time, and I didn't even know it..."
"Now honey, stop blaming yourself. You can't lead someone on without knowing it; that contradicts the definition of 'leading on.' He assumed you were single because he wanted to believe you were single; all he would have needed to do was ask, right?" She nodded. "Look at it this way--think how much harder it would have been if he'd gotten so far as to work up the nerve to ask you out, and then you told him you had a boyfriend."
She nodded again "I suppose."
"Honey, you really don't appreciate just how desirable you are in the eyes of a man. Yes, all you're doing is being nice to them--but they will read unintended things into it because they want so badly for it to be true. If you want to avoid misunderstandings, just be up front about it. That's what Jenna did with me--the first time I met you guys at the bar, she told me she had a boyfriend and wasn't interested. Because of that, we could become friends without any misunderstanding."
She nodded with a sigh. "I never understood why Jenna made such a point of that early in a conversation. Maybe now I do." She snorted a half-laugh. "Maybe I need to get a button made up that says 'I have a boyfriend' and wear it all the time."
"That's going overboard," I replied, "just remember that in the absence of information to the contrary, most guys will assume you're available."
She sighed and nodded. I kissed her, and she went back to work. But I went back to my desk and sat there thinking for a long time.Maybe she does need a sign... but not that kind of sign. Jenna had said something once about how much less she got hit on once she started wearing a ring. It was just about a year ago when I met Sam, and only about nine months that we'd been dating. Plus we were both just 22. On both counts, it seemed a little early to be thinking in terms of long-term commitments. On the other hand, what was I waiting for? I was convinced that Sam was the girl for me; hell, last summer even my grandfather had commented that it was like she was born to be part of the family. Did it make any sense to hold off on declaring my undying love for Sam because of a calendar? It seemed like it might solve so many problems--there'd be fewer misunderstandings, she probably wouldn't have to be so secretive about our relationship with staff... But there was one big problem that wasn't resolved. If I asked Samantha to marry me, would she say yes?
I called Jenna the following day and asked her opinion. She shrieked with delight. "Dave, I'm telling you, Sam loves you. I think she feels the same about you that I did for my fiancée--I would beshockedif she didn't accept."
"I hope you're right," I agreed, getting more nervous as the possibility became more real.
"When would you propose?" she asked excitedly.
"I don't know. Christmas is too soon--besides, I want to get her dad's permission when we're there for Christmas."
"Valentine's Day is a popular choice," she suggested.
"The Jammers have a home game on Valentine's day this year... I seem to recall Sam has some big promotion going on..." I pulled up the events page on the website. "Oh... well now doesn't this seem appropriate... she's running a Valentine's promotion where people can sign up and propose on the jumbotron. Couples that do get a free night at a romantic getaway suite, and one couple will win a trip to Vegas."
"That would be perfect, only you can't very well surprise her if she's running the promotion," Jenna noted.
"No, you're right," I agreed. "I would need some way to tack on to it somehow--just when she thinks it's the last couple, I propose to her. But how could I accomplish that?" Then Jenna had an idea, which led to another, and then another, and in ten minutes we came up with a plan that would be truly memorable. It was so good, in fact, that Jenna insisted on flying in just to see it. She wasn't going to miss this for the world.
-------
As the calendar turned over to a New Year, the Jammers started playing better. Johnny Mill got better on defense, while Stanley Jefferson and Marshall Jacobs rediscovered their games. But the big difference was Ephriam McAllister. Conventional wisdom was that he wasn't big enough to play center in the pros, but when Luke Harvey went the bench in foul trouble (again) and his backup got hurt, we were desperate for someone to log some minutes in the middle and McAllister was the choice. To everyone's surprise, especially the coach, he outplayed either of the guys ahead of him. Yes, he was giving up height to every other center in the league, but he had a center's instincts; he knew when to play inside his man and when to play out, so he wasn't caught out of position and having to foul like Harvey. He wasn't going to block a lot of shots, but his quick hands denied a surprising number of entry passes. And everyone underestimated his upper body strength; the big concern was that taller centers could leverage their height and push him around, but he was strong enough to neutralize the disadvantage and hold his own. He was even something of an offensive threat; rather than having to rely on dunks, he had a quick hook shot he could drop over the top of taller defenders in close. Soon McAllister was starting, and the team started winning a lot more games. To his credit, Red Callahan realized that times were changing, and suddenly wanted to learn everything he could about statistics.
But while it was exciting to see the team improve, all I could really think about was Valentine's day. When February 14th finally came around, I was shaking like a leaf. Work seemed to take forever that day, and waiting around for the game to start afterwards felt like torture. A lot of planning had gone into this--and so far, Sam still had no idea. Sam, Jenna and I had dinner before the game--as far as Sam knew, Jenna was just in for a routine visit home. It was a damn good thing she was there, because she carried the conversation nonchalantly all through dinner, while my mouth was dry as the Sahara. At six Sam left, having a lot of things to arrange for the 13 couples she knew were going to be proposing on the big scoreboard. She made a comment at one point that it was too bad there wasn't one more, so that it would match the date. Little did she know.
For the first quarter I sat in the box with grandfather, who had come up from Florida. I had told him that there was going to be a surprise at the February 14 game; that's all he needed to hear. Jenna sat with me, trying to keep me calm before my big moment. Sam didn't know but her mom and dad were in the audience too; I had sent them two tickets and suggested there might be a surprise at halftime. Knowing they'd secretly given me their blessing to marry their daughter, they came to the game.
