Jack's Adventures 01: Selena 01

You can call me Jack.

I've been an artist in Los Angeles for over a decade, trying to build a career in movies on both sides of the camera. To pay the bills over the years I've had to maintain a steady diet of side gigs; restaurants, retail, rideshare, delivery...you name it, I've worked it. This lifestyle hasn't afforded me much disposable income, but it has afforded me something else: an almost all-access pass to this big, weird city, as well as the many women who call it home.

Every day I'm somewhere new, walking through a door I haven't walked through before, or I'm meeting someone I've never met, who's just walked through mine. Over the years, this has added up. I've been lucky to meet thousands of women, and, even luckier, I've been able to sleep with a lot of them.

I've always known I'm not one for long-term commitment. This helps me commit in the short term. I know what I want and I go for it. And I'm always upfront about what I'm looking for. All these encounters happen with clear eyes and clear minds, so no hearts get broken.

Only headboards and bedsprings.

This is the first story. It's not the first chronologically. It's just the first I'm telling.

This is the story of Selena.

Selena was a 5'3" Latina in her early twenties, with an hourglass figure, thick curly hair, and a face like a Disney princess. She worked at a grocery store I'd visit now and then, and each time I stopped in we would make eye contact. Extended eye contact. The kind two people share when they'd really like to fuck each other.

One time I was perusing the frozen foods and in my periphery I caught her walking down the aisle in my direction. I looked up at her. She was looking right at me. A bashful smile crossed her face. She looked down and kept walking past me. I turned to check her out over my other shoulder. Her jeans tightly hugged her hips and lifted up her ass. It was an amazing ass, large and firm. I imagined her on all fours in front of me, me slowly pulling those jeans off, the hem sliding over the skin, her ass spilling out...

The night our story starts, I was checking out at the register she was working. She and a bagboy were talking about a woman at a different checkout, a blonde, apparently a looker, wondering out loud if "blondes have more fun." As a blonde, I was interested in the conversation, but I pretended not to listen. The bagboy walked away.

"Is it true?" Selena said.

I looked at her. Her expression was almost sleepy but her eyes drilled through me. Her lips were parted softly, revealing big gums and tiny teeth. I imagined those lips around my cock, her showing me those teeth but not using them.

"What?" I said, feigning innocence.

"That blondes have more fun?"

My cock immediately stiffened.

I looked around. No one was behind me in line. I leaned in.

"You wanna find out?"

Without breaking that intense, sleepy stare, she bit her lower lip, and nodded.

That night, at closing time, I was waiting outside in my car. Selena emerged from the front door, hugged a coworker, and headed my way. She was still wearing her tight jeans and her store polo. She got in the passenger side.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," I said.

We shared a long look, revealing more mutual interest than we had so far, maybe not an eye-fuck but eye-foreplay. Then we both smiled. She took her hair out of its bun, and it fell in curly waves around her face.

"Where to?" she asked.

We went to a nearby dive bar, in Marina del Rey a few blocks from the water. It was a weekday night and it was quiet, a few old-timers on stools, the clack of pool cues. We stood at the bar and ordered drinks, me a Jameson rocks, her a gin and tonic. There was lots of space to stand but Selena was still pushed up against me, her hip against the back of my thigh. Drinks in hand, we moved to a booth in the back, in the dark where we could hardly be seen.

We talked about living in LA, our dreams for the future, what it was like to work in customer service. She was a firecracker, genuinely excited by life, undaunted by the misfortune it could hand out. The whole time we talked we inched closer together in the dark, until her right leg was brushing my left leg, her hand resting lightly near the top of my thigh. While she told a story about a particularly snotty customer I took my left hand and placed it just inside her right knee, then started drawing slow circles against it with the back of my fingers. She stopped talking and cocked her head at me, her eyes searching mine.

"Keep talking," I said.

She tried, but I slowly moved my hand higher up the inside of her thigh, my fingers continuing to stroke the denim of her jeans. She pursed her lips and exhaled very slowly, then slowly dropped her head to my shoulder, her mouth opening like she wanted to bite into it.

"I can't keep talking," she breathed.

My hand was now at the crease between the top of her thigh and her pussy. I leaned over and put my lips on the edge of her ear.

"I think we should go," I whispered.

She moaned and sat up straight. She downed the rest of her gin and tonic.

"My place," she said.

Back in my car, she put her address into my phone and I started driving. I immediately put a hand back on her upper leg and, sensing no objection, started to move it toward her crotch. I reached the top button of her jeans and undid it. I felt her look over at me, but I kept my eyes on the road and my fingers right where they were. She then pushed herself down into her seat, decreasing the pressure of her waistband on my fingers, and I explored further.

I went under her panties, felt a soft curly bush. I moved my fingers lower, found the top of her pussy, and then located her clit. She was already wet, and I started to move my finger over her clit in slow circles. She moaned softly and put her mouth on her seatbelt and bit it lightly. I used my other fingers to push aside her labia, trying to get one into her pussy...but the angle was too hard, so I gave up and just kept working her clit.

She bit down harder on her seatbelt and lightly grasped my wrist, her fingers moving gently over my skin. And then in one swift motion she lifted my hand off her pussy, pulled it out of her jeans, and put my fingers deep into her mouth. She closed her lips and drew her tongue along the length of my fingers, and my cock stirred, hoping she'd do the same to it. My fingers slid out of her mouth with a small pop.

"My turn," she said.

She bent over my seat and with a finger traced where my cock was pressed between my leg and my jeans. She then unzipped my fly, and I felt her hand find its way into my briefs. Then her warm fingers were touching my cock, playing with it, feeling how far down my leg it was pressed. Then she wrapped her fingers around its girth and pulled it out through my fly. It burst out, almost fully erect from the casual foreplay we'd been engaged in.

"Mmm, big boy," she said, sitting back and pulling her hair back into a bun.

It looked like one of my fantasies was about to come true.

She undid her seatbelt and got on her knees on the passenger seat, bent her body over the middle console, lowered her head over my lap, gave me one last deviously sexy smile, closed her eyes, and wrapped her lips around my cock. I moaned as I felt her wet mouth start to work, her form not refined by any means, but her style more than vigorous. She used a hand to jerk off my shaft while her mouth bobbed up and down, her lips and tongue running over everything they could reach.

We got to a stop light. I leaned back and looked down at what I could see of her; her big bun of hair, her tight waist, her ass pushed up in the air.

"Hey," I said.

She looked up at me side-eyed, her mouth full of my cock.

"Smile for me."

She smiled, and I got to see those little teeth, lightly touching my dick.

"Perfect."

The stop light turned green, I kept going, and so did she. My cock was pulsing with pleasure at this point. She sucked and sucked, starting to slobber over it, her hand continuing to run up and down my shaft, everything drenched in saliva.

Her ass was calling to me and I just had to touch it, so I reached a hand over and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. She moaned and pushed her butt back, trying to increase contact. It wasn't enough for either of us, so I took my hand out and slid it under the waistband of her jeans. Her skin was warm and smooth. I reached as far under her jeans as I could and grabbed a handful of her left ass cheek. She moaned louder, twirled her tongue around the head of my cock, and started trying to take the whole thing deeper in her mouth.

She then moved her other hand to the outside of my jeans, by my balls, and started rubbing.

"Fuckkkkk," I said, keeping my hands gripped on the wheel so I wouldn't drift into oncoming traffic.

The sensation was so good, her mouth on my cock, one hand on my shaft, one hand on my balls, every inch of me being ferociously worked over by this gorgeous Latina.

And just as I was getting close to coming, we pulled onto her street.

"We're here," I gasped, putting the car in park.

Her mouth slid off my dick and she raised her head, saliva strung between the tip of my cock and her lips. She used a hand to collect it all, put that hand on my dick, and gave it a few slow lubed-up tugs, while biting her lower lip and using her other hand to rub one of her breasts.

Then she sat back. As she buttoned up her jeans, I worked on getting my dick back into mine.

"I can't wait to put this cock inside you," I said.

"My pussy can't wait either," she said. "Let's get inside."

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Thanks for reading! Part 2 coming soon.