Bosco & Ding Dong

We talked for a long time. Even though we were at a diner, and not at TP's, it was hard to get him to open up. He wanted to talk, he was just scared of letting me know what was going on in his mind. I had this sense he was one of those guys who got hurt by a girl and just hadn't figured out how to move on. I'm one of those girls, and maybe it's cause I dance, that can't seem to focus on one guy. I'm not easy. But I'm not one to commit.

Check came and I seized it and paid it-with a credit card. That was my small way of showing Ding Dong that I had moved on past the cash economy. I think I had about $150,000 in my brokerage account at that point-and that's what got me the plastic money.

Kind of awkward moment after I paid the check. Ding Dong had no clue what to say or do. I was hoping he would say more. I kinda like a guy to lead. But I gave up. I stood. Gathered up my purse as if to leave and planted a huge kiss on his lips before he had time to think.

"Thanks," I said after the kiss.

"For what?"

"For coming," I said. "Girl likes company now and then and Mr. Happypants back in the couch dance room isn't company."

He blushed again.

"So you come'n with me," I continued. "Follow'n me home. I won't take no for an answer."

He wanted to say no.

"No pressure," I went on.

"Oh," he said.

I pulled at his hand. I couldn't have done more for a hint. So I walked to my car. He scurried behind and hopped in his truck. He didn't seem like a truck kinda guy, but he had said he was an engineer so maybe it fit.

He had to be shocked when we pulled into where I live. I had just bought a condo in a pretty decent building. Lexington, Kentucky is no Florida gold coast when it comes to condos. But I was still in a pretty fancy place.

Ding Dong didn't say anything as we rode the elevator to my floor. I think he expected that me being black and young, I would've taken him to the projects after Lenny's. Fancy condo had messed up his frame of reference.

"I just got this place. Still a little light on furniture," I said as I welcomed him through the door. Ding Dong was my first houseguest.

"Bathroom?" he asked. I pointed him to the guest bath. I ran off to the master bath to freshen up.

"Make yourself at home. I'll only be a minute," I shouted. I took ten to shower. I found Ding Dong on my living room couch watching TV. He was channel surfing. 100 digital channels and still nothing to watch.

"Hey you." I bent over and kissed him. He kissed back but awkwardly. I took his hands inviting him to stand. I wrapped my hands around his waist and left his hands free to roam. I kissed him again sucking on his lips. I probed his mouth with my tongue. I opened my robe and pulled his hand to my breast. He moved as if it would burn if he touched my nipple. His touch was so ginger, so careful. I encouraged him by pressing his hand down slowly moving it around. My nipples were hard and tender. I led him to the bedroom and unbuttoned his shirt. Pulled it off. Lifted off his white t-shirt. I ran a hand across his chest and kissed him more aggressively. Both of his hands found my nipples and he seemed to enjoy tugging and twisting at them. I undid his belt and his zipper. His pants fell. I crouched and pulled off one of his shoes, then the other, then eased his pants over his feet.

"Lights," he said.

"I like 'em on."

"Oh," he seemed shocked.

I kissed his left leg. His right. He shook. I gripped his boxers and pulled 'em down. Ding Dong is not a big man.

I will be the first to say that size matters. There is not even an argument there. Eight beer can thick inches slamming hard into my pussy have a way of driving me to orgiastic ecstasy. I like to look at a cock and fear that I can't get my mouth around it, or that it will rip me apart. I am not a big girl. I had no such fears with Ding Dong. His five incher stood aggressively-looking ready and eager to squirt sperm for all its manly might. There was no way on the planet at that moment that I would tell Ding Dong that I am a "size matters," kinda girl. Not a smirk, not a giggle, not a laugh. Just my big eyes doing their big eye look of wonder thing into his. He seemed so nervous.

I eased Ding Dong to the bed and pushed him down. My mouth went for his balls. He was shaking so much. I feared if I licked his cock head he would cum right away. I had to work slowly. I pushed his legs up and worked his hairy ball sack. He didn't move with experience. He didn't open up for easy access, so I didn't do anything to shock him like tonguing his anus. I let my tongue work on the base of his shaft and I ran my fingers through his thick unkempt pubic hair. He was shaking more but also stiff. His eyes were squeezed shut in a tight squint. As my tongue worked up his shaft I could see his ball sack tighten and I knew he wouldn't last much longer. My mouth reached his cock head and just about when I had wrapped my lips around the head and began to suck he erupted. He shot two thick globs of cum deep in my mouth then a few more little squirts. He squirmed mightily but I milked his cock for every drop as it went limp. He sighed.

"Hey babe, under the covers I said."

He crawled under and I crawled next to him. I reached over and flipped off the lights. As we laid there I nibbled at his neck and made his little manhood the center of my attention. I fondled it and played with balls. I teased his pubic hair. He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, so I eased one of them down to my pussy and encouraged it to stroke my clit and finger me. After a while he started to get hard again. He seemed surprised. I slid down and took him slowly into my mouth. I worked first on the head rolling my tongue around the edges and teasing the tip. I slowly worked up and down the shaft until I was taking most of him in my mouth. When he was really stiff, I kissed my way up his chest and climbed on top of him. I didn't trust his aim, so I reached under and pointed him at pussy. I was wet enough that he went in with little difficulty. I soon got the angle right and a rhythm so I could slide all the way down his shaft, and then most of the way up until his head was almost out of me. I got pretty thick lips so he wouldn't slide out. I moved at a good pace and he seemed to enjoy it. When I had all of him in me I ground my clit into his pubic bone. His pubic hairs felt good against my shaved mound. He bucked his hips a little. He lasted longer this time, but still before not too very long he came. I felt him going soft and popping out so I rolled off and lay next to him. He looked sleepy. I gave him a little kiss on the lips and let him doze off. I quietly fingered myself until I came. The earth didn't move, but I liked the tingle.

I woke around eleven the next morning. Ding Dong was laying there with a raging pee hardon. Why he didn't just get up and pee I don't know. Maybe he wasn't sure of the rules of morning bed etiquette and didn't want me to feel abandoned if he got out of bed while I was still sleeping.

"Gotta pee buster?" I asked.

"Like a race horse."

"Then why don't you?"

"Well uh," he had no good answer.

I got up. Didn't bother to cover myself, grabbed his hand.

"Follow me," I said.

I dragged him to the bath and nearly shocked him to death.

"Can I help?" I asked.

"What?"

"I'm gonna help," I said. "In the shower."

I like to aim a guy when he pees. When his dick is hard, it's hard to aim, so the shower seemed like the quick low maintenance answer with an inexperienced partner. I stood at his side and held it while he peed. I moved his penis up and down and to the side sending his stream all over. I really wanted him to pee on me, but again, I was guessing he had limits and that at that moment I was already far across the line. He finished and I turned on the water. I lathered him up paying special attention to cock. I was going to make him cum again. He was soon pretty hard. I rinsed the soap and took him in my mouth. Before too long he gave me a little taste of sperm. Ding Dong's knees almost buckled when he came. I swallowed and gave him a peck on the cheek. I imagined he didn't want to taste a load of his sperm with a deep tongue kiss. I lathered us both up with soap, we rinsed, we toweled off. He went to the bedroom to dress. I brushed my teeth then found my robe and wandered to the kitchen to make coffee.

"Coffee," I yelled as it was ready.

Ding Dong wandered in the kitchen.

"No, I gotta go," he said with lie written all over his face.

"Uh sure, ok," I said not knowing what else to say. "Wait, before you go." I took a slip of paper and wrote my real name and number.

"Call me," I said.

"Sure."

I gave him a kiss and a big hug. Ding Dong blushed again. I squeezed his crotch.

"You're a special guy," I said as I flashed my best wide eyed love grin.

"Sure," he said and wandered out. I closed the door behind him.

I danced the 7:00 to 3:00 shift that Saturday night and Ding Dong wasn't there. He wasn't at TP's the next weekend, or any other weekend for as long as I worked there. He never called either.

I don't make a habit of fucking customers. I don't do the $350 after work motel fuck. And I don't date the guys I meet at work either. Ding Dong seemed different. He looked like he wanted a friend and he just seemed like a nice guy to talk with. I sometimes wonder where he is. Whenever I see one of those shy guys sitting alone in the dark at the back of a club I think of Ding Dong and I always imagine they have had a bad experience with someone like Heather. I make a point of sitting with them for a while. Just to talk. I like 'em to go home and think that the $50 they spent on drinks chatting with me was a nice Friday night date.