Gifted Grifter Ch. 02

She practically gulped downed the first glass because she was so thirsty. I made her a second, but I also brought her a bottle of water. She made short order of the water, then started drinking her second drink at a more normal pace. But I could see it was starting to have its effect, especially on an empty stomach. I surreptitiously turned down the heat on the grill slightly to slow the cooking. She had two down and was starting a third drink by the time dinner was ready. On her empty stomach, she was already starting to buzz, and the bulk of the alcohol hadn't hit her bloodstream yet. Soon, driving home would be out of the question even if she wanted to.

She sat on a two-seater rocking chair with her plate to eat; I sat next to her. The alcohol was starting to make her giggly, which was OK because it was giving me excuses to touch her. She would start laughing at something and bend over; I would respond by laughing along and, when it wasn't obviously inappropriate, putting my hand on her bare back.

After we ate, I took her empty plate and got her another drink. I started to pour them thinner—she was two ahead of me, and I was worried she would get so drunk that she would get sick or something. When I handed it to her, my hat told me she suddenly realized that she was in no condition to drive, and that asking me to take her to her car didn't make sense anymore. I quickly started talking about the lake and the cottage before she processed that thought any further.

As I continued talking with her on the rocker, getting increasingly touchy-feely as she got increasingly inebriated, I had the original inspiration for what would become a common technique in later days. I waited for a pause in the conversation, then I sang (badly, as always) a line from a pretend country music song:

I like the things that you do to me, But the pill won't protect me from an STD

The idea was to evoke her connotations to the key words pill and STD, to simultaneously test her birth control and STD status. Her thoughts seemed pretty clear to me to indicate that she was on the pill and didn't have any social diseases. OK, I thought all systems go.

When I had an opportunity, I put my hand on her head and stroked her hair. She looked at me in a kind of knowing fashion when I did that. I moved in to kiss her. She kissed me back, although not with great conviction.

I worked a couple more kisses into our conversation, then suggested that we move inside to avoid mosquitoes.

I sat on the sofa, hoping she would sit next to me, but she didn't. Instead she looked at me with a twinkle in her eye and knelt down in front of me. She reached to untie my swim trunks, then pulled them down to my feet. Then she gently picked up my not-yet-fully-erect penis and gently licked it. Gotta love them Millenials; a lot of them don't even consider oral sex to be sex!

Once she had my penis erect, she started to move it in and out of her mouth. She was not as accomplished at giving head as Jessie had been, but what she lacked in experience she made up for in enthusiasm. Her head bobbed up and down above my crotch like a piston, with her hand moving in synch to ensure constant stimulation.

Being so skinny, I was able to reach around to her back while she had me in her mouth and untie the back of her halter top. When she felt the top slacken off of her breasts, she look up at me while still sucking, then let go for a second to slip the top off of her head before continuing to suck me some more. I rubbed her nipples between my fingers, one nipple in each hand, while she kept sucking. Her thinking...I still had on my hat...was telling me that she was thinking this would be her thank you for the skiing, the dinner and all that. OK, I thought, I'm fine with that but I still wanted to go all the way with her. But at this point her thoughts coming to me through my hat were beginning to distract me from enjoying the moment, so I took the hat off.

She was definitely persistent. My dick started to get that extra-hardness that sets in shortly before orgasm. She must have been waiting for that signal, because she responded by increasing the tempo of her sucking. I was not going to be able to hold back against this pleasurable stimulation for long. But the, as more alcohol entered her bloodstream, the additional head bobbing must have made her dizzy. She suddenly reeled backwards and had to catch herself with one hand to keep from falling the rest of the way to the floor.

I seized the opportunity. I quickly grabbed a couch cover, threw it on the floor, and then moved towards Lauren and nudged her to the floor. Her breasts may have been small, but her nipples were substantial and at last I could put them in my mouth. At the same time, I rubbed by hands over the crotch of her shorts. She may not have been expecting to be the recipient of such attention, but it must have felt good enough that she didn't protest.

I switched over to put the farther breast in my mouth, and at the same time I untied her shorts and started to slide them down. She lifted her butt to help, so I guess she was on board with it. With her pants off, I now slid my finger along her thighs without letting up on my nipple-sucking. I snuck a peek at her face; she was lying back with eyes closed, just enjoying he pleasure sensations I was giving her. Good.

Those slender thighs...I still think of how soft and silky the skin on them felt, while at the same time not having an ounce of flabby flesh attached. The skinny thighs also made it easier to slip a hand in-between, and in short order I was touching the warm spot between her legs.

At that point I did finally let her nipples slip out of my hungry mouth and slid further down. I don't know that she knew what to expect, but she parted her hips to accommodate whatever it might be. I started running my tongue over her labia, which were still closed. Shortly thereafter her clitoris began to rise, and I concentrated on it. I held one of her butt cheeks in each of my hands and used them to help guide her pussy to my tongue. Because she was so skinny, I was able to reach my thumbs around and part her lips with them while I was licking her. Once I did, I ran my tongue along the insides of her as well. I heard her say "Ohhh" a few times after that.

I started to feel her hips gyrate rhythmically. I increased the speed and firmness of my administrations. Then I felt her have her orgasm.

While she was still spasming, I slipped up to be eye level with her, and slid my penis into her now-ready vagina. I was thrusting in and out of her before her orgasm was even finished. She reached her arms around me and kissed me, as many women seem to do after orgasm. Then she loosened her grip and lay back, because I was pumping her for all I was worth. The lovely little thing did her best to hold on. I felt her try to open her legs wider, but then I saw her wince; I'm sure they were sore from all that skiing.

"It's OK," I said, and she relaxed her legs again. I had plenty of room to work between her skinny thighs.

I felt my orgasm coming. I shortened my thrusts while pushing my penis as far into her as I could reach. And then I came.

She embraced me again once she felt me come, and I collapsed on top of her.

"Well, that was a nice surprise," she said, and kissed me on the cheek.

"Man, you can say that again," I grinned.

We lay there holding each other for a few minutes, then she got up to go the bathroom. When she was up, I picked up the couch cover. I waited for her outside the bathroom, then led her back to one of the bedrooms rather than sleep on the floor.

I lay next to her, and she played with my face and giggled. Then she curled herself around my one arm and pushed her back into me to snuggle. I just lay there for a few minutes, letting her hold me, then I felt her grip go limp. I guess I'll never know if she passed out or simply fell asleep, tired from all the skiing.

With her asleep, I realized that I hadn't really thought about how she would eventually get back home either. It really wasn't that late; I decided I would fetch her car from Poser's. I found her keys in her bag, wrote a quick note in case she woke up, then grabbed one of the old cottage bikes and rode it to the store. Then I opened her trunk, threw the as much of the bike into it as would fit, and drove her car back to the cottage. She was still sleeping when I got there.

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The next morning I awoke before she did, so I got dressed, put on my hat, and started to make coffee and breakfast. The smell probably woke her up. I had put her clothes in the bedroom for her; she dressed and came out.

She wasn't very happy.

Her thoughts were angry—mad at me for taking advantage of her, mad at herself for getting so drunk that I could.

"Would you like some coffee?" I asked.

"That wasn't a very nice thing you did last night," she said, cutting right to the chase.

I stopped cooking and turned to look at her. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I really enjoyed last night. I guess maybe you drank more than you meant to, but I had just as many as you had." That wasn't true. "That's the other thing we do up here—we use the lake and we drink." That part WAS true.

With my hat on, I could tell that she knew that I was right—a big part of having a cottage is drinking. Her thoughts told me that had had previous experience drinking at cottages, and even that it wasn't the first time she gave a guy a blow job after drinking with him at a cottage. But this was the first time it had ended with full intercourse, and certainly the first time with a guy she'd just met that morning.

"You tried to get me drunk so that you could seduce me," she accused. She was right. I had purposefully manipulated my behavior in order to maximize my chances of getting her to have sex with me. I was being a con man, a swindler...a grifter. A grifter with a very special tool that made things possible, which was at the moment perched loosely on my head. That's when I first started thinking of myself as the Gifted Grifter.

"Surely you don't think it's odd that a guy would want to sleep with a beautiful young girl like yourself? Look, I'm sorry if you regret it now, I sure don't." I said "But if all you want to do is get out of here, you can; I went and fetched your car last night, and it's parked outside."

She was relieved that she didn't still have to negotiate for me to take her to her car. Although she was mad at me for taking advantage of her, the fact that I had fetched her car led her to entertain the thought that maybe I wasn't all bad. It made her get even more mad at herself for getting that drunk—I watched her think "I'll never drink whiskey again"—but she certainly didn't want to spend any more time with me. I didn't bother offering to let her ski again; I just told her how to get back to the main highway. In five minutes she was gone.

I ate the food I made, then quickly packed up, closed up the cabin, and headed back to the city. I wanted to get out of there as soon as I could, lest she come back to confront me again, perhaps with backup.

Along the way I did a lot of thinking. In some states, having sex with a girl whose drunk enough constitutes statutory rape. I don't think she was that drunk, and even if she were it was a matter of he said-she said. I had seen in her thoughts that she had started to blow me willingly, she just hadn't expected to end up having intercourse. She didn't know that I knew she was protected, among other things, and while I knew she didn't have any diseases she didn't know that about me (no, I don't). It was too bad that she was so angry about it in the morning; neither of us had had complaints while it was happening.

I felt a tinge of guilt, knowing that most of what I had told her was a lie, tailor-made to make me appear to be her sort of person. But I hadn't coerced her into having sex with me, and I hadn't forced her to drink those drinks. Aided and abetted maybe, and definitely not coerced. But the experience taught me that I was definitely going to have to be a lot more careful about these kinds of situations in the future. I had used a false name, but I had taken her to my actual family cottage. All anyone would have had to do is call the property's owner of record, and they would quickly have found out who I really was. If I didn't want to end up in big trouble or even dead, I was going to have to be much more difficult to trace from now on.

When I got back to the city, I did a number of things. I purchased several sets of phony identification on the Internet. I purchased several prepaid cell phones; I topped off with cards that I had purchased with cash, so there was no credit card connected to them. I obtained a couple of prepaid Visa cards in other names. And I resolved that in the last few days before I quit my job, I would try to devise an even smaller version of my thought reading machine.

Later that week I left my job at the DoD. The moment I left was for all intents and purposes the last time I used my real name. From that point on, 24/7, I was...the Gifted Grifter.