Don't Start What You Can't Finish Ch. 03

I texted back "Hope everyone feels better - we'll save a dance for you!"

A second later, Tracy texted me: "Still up for going?" What, was she kidding? Hadn't she SEEN herself last weekend?

"Duh! Who's driving?"

"You."

"OK. Same time?"

"Yep!" She added a smiley face, and I was walking down the stairs to the garage. As I drove to her townhouse, I briefly wondered if it was a setup, and quickly concluded it wasn't - I just didn't think Rachel, in particular, would go for it.

I reached Tracy's townhouse and was able to park just a couple of doors down. Walking up to her door, I realized I didn't know much about her. She'd been the one who I had sorta decided wasn't my type when we first met just a few weeks ago when we went to the Rose. That had then been shattered the following week, when she had been just drop-dead beautiful - and flirty as hell. I knew she was Jeannette and Rachel's boss, and that they both thought very highly of her, was divorced, had one child, and was also from California.

Tracy's townhouse was in the community I was buying one in; mine was supposed to be done in about 3 weeks and we were supposed to close on it in about 4 weeks. I was looking forward to it, and so was my son - it would give us a lot more space, and he had been able to decorate his room - paint, carpet, wall art, etc. She had a small wreath on her door, and as I pressed the doorbell I looked around a little and again liked what I saw in the neighborhood.

I heard a quick click of heels, and then the door flew open and Tracy was motioning me in. I'd have followed, but I was stunned to see her. She was wearing a red dress that looked like it had been painted on her, showing off every single one of her perfect curves, those curves accented in a shiny black material that perfectly complemented her long blonde hair. I think my mouth fell open, because she laughed and did a quick pirouette.

"I guess it's OK then?" I think she was rather enjoying my reaction.

"Oh my god - you look . . . perfect." I blurted out.

She laughed. "Well, I was going for sexy, but 'perfect' is even better. Ready?" She took my arm and we headed down to my car.

"Yep. Wow, you just look . . . amazing. Like, drop-dead gorgeous." I was on the verge of getting tongue-tied, which almost never happened.

"Well, thank you. That's the nicest thing I think anyone has ever told me."

"You're welcome. Whew - you are a vision. OK, where to?" We had planned on going to another dance club - hence her dress - and had texted about possibly going for a drink elsewhere.

"Hmmmm . . . how about a drink at the Elephant Bar and then head to the club?"

"Great idea - let's do it." As we drove along, I had to concentrate on driving - I'd have just stared at Tracy otherwise. I noticed she had the slightest hint of perfume, and asked.

"Yep, I don't use much - I think most people use way too much, and it's supposed to be subtle." She also wasn't wearing much makeup - in fact, if she had any on, I couldn't tell. I liked it - au naturel seems to work best for just about every woman I'd ever met, and said as much.

"Yeah, I just don't have the time to deal with a lot of makeup. Too active, too much to do in life."

"You don't need it. What do you like to do? Aside from clubbing occasionally, of course . . . "

She smiled. "Lucky - good genes for skin. Probably the usual for out here - hike, snowshoe, I cycle some, camp some. Live music - I try to get to as many concerts and fairs as I can. Dance. Read. Like I said, pretty typical for Colorado. How about you? One I know - or have at least heard about," she smirked a little as she said it.

"Pretty similar, although I'd substitute badminton for dance. Well, unless it's with you." A little flirting couldn't hurt, right? Love music, reading, cycling . . . Hiking is good, but I have to laugh at how much stuff a lot of people bring with them."

She smiled again, and her golden hair was backlit for a moment by a streetlight. Just beautiful. I was somewhat startled to realize we had arrived, and that I'd found a parking space - I'd been completely focused on our conversation. I paid the meter, and then helped Tracy out of the car. We walked in to the bar arm in arm, the feel of her touch both electric and comfortable. I felt dumber and dumber at having thought her not my type when I first saw her when we had gone country dancing. And feeling dumb was not something I was accustomed to.

As we walked in, I swear you could hear the sound of men's necks snapping as they whipped around to look at her. She made quite an entrance! We found space on one of the couches and ordered drinks from the scantily clad waitress who came by, and chatted idly until our drinks arrived. She'd ordered a version of a moscow mule, and I'd gone for a crown and seven - one of my faves while out. We clinked our glasses and took a sip, and as we did our eyes locked and didn't let go for what seemed like minutes.

Our breathing got heavier and heavier, and Tracy finally looked away and then back. "That was intense," and her voice trailed off. She murmured something else I couldn't quite make out, and leaned forward while raising an eyebrow.

She took a sip of her drink and grinned. "I said, 'holy shit.' That was unreal."

I knew exactly what she meant. "I know what you mean . . . Should we go dance?"

She moved closer to me on the couch, her long legs pressed against mine. "I'm in no rush - this is good." I wasn't about to argue.

We chatted more, and I was struck by how relaxed we both were with each other. I learned she had the again obligatory MBA (what WAS it with me and MBA types?), was up for a promotion to a VP level position, and also had a MS in physics, which was indescribably cool to me, who could never do the math required. We finished our drink, and decided on another. She'd also traveled some, but wanted to do more, and was fascinated by my military experiences, which had taken me to some of the not-so-touristy parts of the world.

I gave her the edited version of my time in Iraq (hot, scary as hell sometimes, but enormously satisfying professionally), graduate and law school, and getting divorced. One of the things she found most interesting was my playing badminton competitively - it's not a popular sport in the US. As we finished our second drink, it was time to go dance. Or, in my case, to try to dance.

"Just promise me you'll defend my honor," she said, laughing, as we made our way to the club. "Seems like you should be able to!"

"I promise," I said, thinking I'd certainly do that from everyone, save, perhaps, me. When we got to the door, we were whisked right in - when you're with someone as gorgeous as Tracy, clubs don't make you wait. We made our way to the section of the club where they played EDM, and stopped at the bar to get a drink. Miraculously, we made it to a booth shaped like a half-moon that was empty without having our drinks spilled.

Tracy held up her glass. "To a wonderful night, and to friends who couldn't make it!"

"Salut!" We took a sip, our eyes never far from each other.

We sat for a moment, just enjoying the relative quiet, and I again marveled at how beautiful she was. She broke what could have been an uncomfortable quiet. "It's nice being out with just you. I've kinda been crushing on you since that night at the Rose."

I nodded. "Yes it is. You were? I had no idea." I grinned a little as I said it, just to make sure she knew I was joking.

She laughed. "It's been a while since I met anyone interesting out here. Everybody's so fucking granola! I like hiking and biking and skiing, but give me a break! There's a whole lot more to life!"

I nodded wryly. "I know what you mean . . . says the guy who tries to bike every day."

"Yeah, but you're not a nut about it."

"I guess that's true. I have to laugh at people who get excited at taking another 9 grams of weight off their bike. What, are you riding in the Tour de France? No, and part of riding is the workout - and the heavier the bike, the better the workout. And I guess when you're used to running around with 70-80 pounds of gear it's hard to get too worked up about 9 grams - which is one third of an ounce, for fuck's sake."

Tracy cracked up. "Yes! YES! That's exactly what I mean. And then I'm supposed to be so turned on that I want to have sex with them? And they're offended when I'm not. I bet there are a lot of dates where the guy is driving home thinking I'm a total bitch."

It was my turn to crack up. "Sadly, that wouldn't surprise me. Miss California sometimes?"

She snorted. "Dating, yes. The ocean, yes. Otherwise, no."

"I know precisely what you mean."

She looked at me slightly askance. "Same thing for guys dating?"

"Kind of. A lot of women are the granola type, and a lot of the rest are adrenaline seekers. Once you've heard live bullets flying over your head, your need for adrenaline kinda disappears. And a lot of what they'd like to do, I've done - jump out of an airplane? Check. 129 times. Rappel out of a helicopter? Check. Probably a couple of hundred times. Do an extreme hike? Check - I don't even want to think how many times. And I've never been on a hike where anyone could keep up with me. Blah blah blah."

She nodded. "Yep, I can see that. Good thing I prefer my adrenaline in different forms." She gave me a suggestive smile.

Well, good thing some of my reality hadn't turned her off!

"C'mon, let's dance!" She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the dance floor, melding us into the crowd, her eyes shining and her whole body just glowing. I probably don't have to say that she was a MUCH better dancer than I was, and she had to shake off all kinds of men who wanted to dance with her. As she did, she moved closer and closer to me, and I finally - finally! - caught on, taking her in my arms, feeling her body against mine, grazing her lips with mine before closing on them firmly, kissing her, kissing her with more and more passion as she responded, still dancing, feeling her body molding itself to mine, and then our lips came apart for a moment and our eyes locked on each other again.

Oh my god, those eyes! They looked like bottomless pools of ocean blue, and every time we'd locked eyes I felt like I was totally out of control - and yet perfectly comfortable. And it was all the more remarkable after last night with Carol, whose eyes had had a similar effect. Twice in two nights? Was I going soft? Reality came back - no, I wasn't going soft, I was just on the best hot streak of my life. I was also completely turned on, which Tracy could easily feel and see, grinning at me as we broke eye contact.

"Careful! The last time I locked eyes like that I wound up married for 12 years," she said, laughing. "And what took you so long?"

"Mmmmmm. I can see why . . . So long to . . .?" I got it a second later - "Oh, to kiss you? Just call me an idiot. I've wanted to since I met you."

"Are you up for tempting fate? OK . . . " She smiled and put her hands on my head, pulling me towards her to kiss briefly before our eyes met and melded again. Holy shit! We'd been out for not much more than a couple of hours, and every fiber in my body and brain were falling hard in love with her. What the hell was going on? We broke eye contact again, and I wasn't the least bit surprised to find us holding hands.

We danced again for a while, mixing in a drink. We didn't have nearly as many attempted interruptions as I would have expected, given how many men were just staring at Tracy. We did dance with a couple of other people, but no one swooped in the way Carol had the week before. I finally realized with a start that we just looked like a couple. After we danced to a slower song, I leaned in to whisper in her ear (as much as you can whisper in a club, anyway). If we weren't nearly as overt as Rachel and I had been, there couldn't have been any doubt in anyone who was watching us that we were going to spend a passionate night together.

She had started moving towards me as I leaned in toward her ear, and my lips brushed against her ear as I asked, "Like to get a nightcap?"

Her body was pressed against me in all its glory, and she reached up to my ear and just said, "Let's go."

I paid the check, and we somewhat languidly made our way out of the club, several men watching as we walked out, my hand and arm around her, looking like a couple that had been together for a while, instead of the few hours since we'd started our first sorta official date. We made our way to my car hand in hand, which felt thrilling and perfectly natural at the same time. I opened the door for her, and got a thrilling view of her cleavage as she settled into the seat.

As we drove, I realized we hadn't talked about where said nightcap would be, and then figured that since I had asked, she'd assume my apartment. So I headed there, and we talked just a little as we did. She also shot off a couple of texts, which I figured were to let whoever know she was OK. She stuffed her phone back in her clutch, and just mouthed "Mom." I parked in the driveway when we arrived, because there isn't enough room in the garage to open both doors comfortably, and we went up the stairs to my apartment.

I opened the door and ushered Tracy in, just catching her ditching her heels as I turned back to close and lock the door. As I turned back, Tracy was smiling and pushed me back against the door, her blue eyes on fire and her lips closing on mine hard, kissing me hard, passionately, her tongue reaching for mine, dancing again, and then she was reaching for my shirt, pulling it up and over, breaking our kiss just long enough to lift it off me, dropping it on the floor and flicking it away. Her hands kept going, reaching for my belt, undoing it with one hand, undoing the button, impatiently releasing the zipper, her hand brushing my hopelessly hard cock, forcing my jeans down, and kicking them away as I stepped out of them.

For my part, as she was tearing my clothes off, I was searching for the zipper to her dress that HAD to be somewhere. I finally found it, just as she put her thumbs in the waistband of my underwear and pushed them down, her hand again brushing my achingly hard cock. She actually gave it a squeeze, and then raised her arms over her head so I could lift her dress off of her, having finally found the zipper. She wasn't wearing a bra, the dress sort of having one, We were kissing urgently, passionately, and I tossed her dress on to the island in the kitchen, then noticed her tiny thong and pushed it off of her, leaving us both naked, kissing hungrily, my cock achingly hard, pressed against her stomach, her perfect - yes, perfect - breasts pressing against me.

She wasted no time, taking hold of my cock and pointing it to her groin, and I bent my knees slightly to put us at the same level. As I did, she threw her arms around my neck and almost literally jumped on me, steadying herself with one arm while the other guided me into her. We both moaned as I entered her - she was oh so wet, hot and tight. She moved her hips down right as I was thrusting into her, making us bottom out on the other, me leaning against the door, Tracy impaled on my cock, both of us groaning as I entered her and felt her pussy claiming my cock, squeezing it hard.

Tracy had exquisite control of her vaginal muscles, and she used it - squeezing me and relaxing, squeezing and relaxing. I could feel an orgasm building in her as we fucked. I think I was a little too surprised at her intensity and aggressiveness to build to orgasm as quickly as she did - it couldn't have been more than a minute from the time I closed the door to our coupling.

And it didn't take long before that building orgasm completely claimed her, making her cry out and squeeze my rod hard, almost pushing me over the edge. Instead, Tracy came hard with a scream, and as she started to relax I let her slide off of me. I turned her around, my legs screaming with relief from the position they'd been in, and put her arms on the countertop on the island in the kitchen. I moved behind her, and after teasing her beautiful ass with my cock, slid into her from behind and felt her muscles tightening, feeling her grasping me deep inside her, one hand holding on to her hip to get the deepest penetration I could, while the other roamed over her breasts, caressing, squeezing, pinching, teasing . . .

We went at it like that for a couple of minutes, and she must have seen the patio doors, because she started to shuffle us that way, still coupled. We managed to make it with me sliding out of her only once, and when we got there she opened the glass doors, and then the sliding screen door, while leading us to the cool night air on the outdoor patio. Tracy wound up leaning against the railing as I continued to slide in and out of her sensational body. Simply put, I was in heaven.

As Tracy was leaning on the railing, legs spread, my cock now just slamming in and out of her, it occurred to me that we were putting on a hell of a show for anyone who cared to watch.

"You know the people down by the pool can see us?" I managed to say. There was some sort of gathering at the pool, and it was a straight-line view from the pool to my balcony. And with Tracy's beautiful blonde hair and pale skin, we must have stuck out like a lighthouse in a black night.

She managed a nod, and then turned, reached for my head, pulled my ear to her mouth, and managed to murmur "I like being watched . . . huge turn-on."

Mmmmmm. I loved being watched - the trick was always in finding someone else who liked it. This was, incredibly, getting better and better.

"Is anyone watching?" She murmured again, as I continued to slide in and out of her beautiful body.

"You've got the better view," I replied, and it was true - I was behind her, and concentrating on my cock sliding in and out of her, while my hands alternated holding her hip and playing with her nipples.

"Uhhhh . . . . huhhhhhh," was all she could manage as we were both approaching orgasm, her again, me for the first time.

I could feel myself losing control and tipping over, and the tip of my cock mushroomed inside her, which I think she could feel. And then, cum boiled up out of my balls, raced down my shaft, and exploded into Tracy. As she felt me cum, she tipped over again and cried out as her orgasm claimed her, as I sent pulse after pulse of cum into her, painting her womb white with streaks of hot, sticky semen. I think I cried out also as I came, and we both shook as we struggled to stand as orgasm consumed us.

I could also see that a couple people down by the pool heard us and looked up, getting an amazing view of Tracy's naked body, her perfect breasts heaving, long iridescent golden blonde hair swaying, her perfectly shaved pussy on full display. And pretty quickly it wasn't just a couple of people looking, but a small crowd, some of whom started hooting at us, which we both ignored.

As we recovered, I could see her skin goosebump and realized it was on the cool side, and, slowly sliding out of her with an audible pop, I took her by the hand and led her inside, and as she turned to follow I caught a glimpse of her blowing a kiss to the people watching, then closing the patio door but not the blinds, and took her to the bedroom, hearing a gurgle as she walked and our juices leaked down her leg.

We reached my room, and as reached the bed she turned around, pushed me down on the bed, and climbed on top of me, a broad smile on her face as she let her literally dripping pussy rest on my cock.

"Mmmmmm . . . that was fucking hot!" she said, once we were situated.

I grinned. "Yes it was. A little horny, are we?"

"Fuck yeah! Rachel and Jeannette say I'm insatiable. And they're right. Think you can keep up?"