Playing With Brittany Ch. 03

Authors note: This chapter was originally going to be omitted because I liked the way the second chapter concluded, and didn't plan on writing an extension for another couple months, if at all. Keep that in mind; this chapter exists solely because you asked for it. Good job, everyone. And thank you so much for your kind words.

Enjoy.

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"Truth or dare?"

"Excuse me?" Her sentence jerked me from the intense buttering of my bread, to which I was adding the final touches.

"You heard me." Thinking she was sly, my girlfriend slowly traced her toes up my leg. She threw me a cocky head bob with her sentence.

"Here?"

"I think it's fitting, don't you?"

"How so?"

"Well, it's basically how we met, and it's an adorable story."

"So that means..."

"It means that our one year anniversary is a perfect night to revive the fire."

"Your fire stopped burning?" I was appalled.

"Of course not, baby. You know I can't resist that big ole cock of yours." She bit her lower lip as she dug her foot against my crotch, all while with an innocent inquiry in her eyes. "What do you say? Up for a little competition?"

I simply nodded in response, biting my bread in half in a single bite. "Is this simply a competition? I smell an ulterior motive, sweetie."

"There may or may not be some questions I want answered, and some things that I want to make sure happen this evening." There was a tone in her voice that you'd hear somebody use when they're setting up ground rules for hide-and-go-seek.

With my agreement in tow, the game started before our appetizers had even arrived. "Like I said earlier; truth or dare?" Brittany was sitting with her hands folded in front of her. The dress she had chosen for this evening was a spectacular shade of red, brightly complimenting her new hair colour.

Since we'd started dating a year ago, Brittany decided to change up her hair style to signify her changing lifestyle. Her commitment to me was evident in the changing from the cold, icy blue to the warm and luscious bright pink bubblegum hue.

Instead of having a streak of red off to the side, it had been replaced by a dark, demanding yellow. The cotton candy colour of her hair never got tiring to look at, and I loved it through the many transformations it had endured in the last year.

She was blue and orange for a while, then purple and green (not a fan favourite), then half white and half red. The last one was the hardest to get used to, but eventually all of them seemed to fit her bouncy, charismatic spirit.

Right now the two of us were sitting in an Italian restaurant called Fettuci's. It was expertly decorated, with fancy chandeliers dangling from the roof and wallpaper that gave it an exotic, yet inviting feel. Our table was dotted in the center with a bright tea candle, casting dancing shadows around Brittany's calming smile.

"I pick truth."

"Good, I was hoping you would." Brittany blew me an air kiss and arranged her bra before addressing my request for truth. In the few seconds that she spent adjusting her brassier, I had already gotten myself lost in the cleavage her red dress was presenting.

Bright red was a fantastic choice to contrast against her creamy, white skin. The twin mounds were being tightly compact into a lace bra that I had insisted she wear. Even after a year of having the same two tits to play with, I was still far from bored with them.

"Would you have come over that night if I wasn't such a well-known slut?" Bluntly stating things like that in public is how we've gotten barred from a few establishments. That, coupled with the continuing instances of being caught fucking in the restroom.

What can I say, sometimes the urge just gets you.

"Yes, I would've come over. I still would've tried to get you into bed, but maybe not as quickly." I kissed her hand and she smiled sheepishly at me. "Truth or dare, baby."

"Truth."

"I thought you'd pick dare, pussy." I winked at her.

"Hush, darling. The owner likes us here, let's not blow it." She patted my hand and gave me a condescending pout.

"Fine, Mrs. Impatient. When you invited me over, did you plan on letting me take advantage of that gloriously addictive butt you're always swaying around?"

"Not at first. I knew I had wanted to try anal for a few weeks, and once I saw that delicious cock I was sold. Plus, I didn't think I'd have to try very hard to convince you." The teasing that was always flying between us had become constant, a trait that had made our relationship solid from the start. If you can't laugh at yourself, then you're the real joke.

"You pick now." She instructed me.

"Um...Dare." I wanted to spice things up, and knew she would have something up her sleeve that would add excitement to our evening.

"I dare you to take me in the bathroom and fuck me like the cheap slut I am."

"Jesus Christ, Brittany. Here?"

She stood up from the table and spun around, purposefully swaying her hips and making me salivate as I fantasized about the damage I wanted to do to her beautiful ass. There weren't many options laid out for me. I could either stay here, letting my girlfriend wait for me, or I could man up and follow her to fuck her like the cheap slut she is.

Her words, not mine.

Since the first time that Brittany and I had sex, we'd gotten more in tune with each other while we thoroughly explored each other. I had become an expert in the field of making Brittany squirt like a fountain, and she had become very adept at bring me to teeth chattering orgasms every time we played with each other.

Getting my anxiety under control, I followed my bubblegum girl to the restrooms and slipped into the ladies's room. She was there waiting for me, leaning against the stall door and beckoning for me to take her into the privacy of the closed door.

I latched the door and scrambled to get Brittany as naked as I could, as fast as I could. Our sex was so on point, so technical, that we often didn't need to even speak to each other. One of us simply took lead, and the other followed.

This time I was making sure I was in charge, directing Brittany to face the wall behind her while she bent down. Her dress slid over the bulge of her ass and she wiggled her buns in my face. I pecked little kisses over the mounds she was fluttering for me, making her cheeks shake and bump against each other.

Her black, cotton panties were hooked under my thumbs. With a swift tug, I lowered the thin piece of clothing and spread her meaty butt cheeks apart. Her peach was winking at me, sparkling with premature wetness. "Oh god, don't fucking tease me."

I could see her pussy clenching as she forced the words out, fists balled up as she poked her ass back at me. No help was necessary to get me to proceed with my foreplay. Or rather, however much foreplay could be fit into this tiny, green stall.

We were the only two into the bathroom, so Brittany was free to let out a couple timid squeaks the first time I entered her. My fingers, first slick with spit, were now shoved deep up to the third knuckle in her vagina. The tight, sweltering heat of her kitten was compressing my fingers.

Without having to tell her, she reached back and held her bum open for me so I wouldn't have to poke around looking for her opening. She wanted me in as soon as possible, and I could tell. I traced the tip of my penis around her dripping slit.

Pushing forward an inch lodged my cock head in the entrance of Brittany's pussy, forcing her to slam her hips back against me just so she wouldn't have to wait for me to bottom out in her. "That's it, right there." The sucking feeling that was surrounding my shaft was nearly pushing be over the edge already.

Sinking balls deep between her wet lips was a feeling I had never felt matched. It was like Brittany had moulded her insides to fit perfectly to my cock, and she felt eternally empty unless I was filling her.

The small bathroom was echoing with the sounds of our sex, punctuated by the occasional moan by the female half of our duo. "Fuck, fuck, yes right there, hold me there." I was keeping Brittany suspended on her toes, slamming into her so hard that she was being lifted off the ground every time I drove my cock home.

If it was possible to bruise a girl's cervix, then Brittany's was, without a doubt, perpetually sore. Every time I felt my hips slap against her ass, I was also treated to the sensation of bashing my dick into her deepest reaches.

At the angle I was holding her, my arms wrapped around her stomach to keep her from falling away from me, it was easy to tell when I would hammer my engorged knob against her g-spot. Her breath sucked in, toes curled, and fingers wedged into my arms.

With her mouth agape, and breasts ready to spill from her lowered top, Brittany managed to brace herself upon the wall with one arm. The other still stayed attached to mine, holding herself close to the bear hug I was employing to secure the perfect angle to pummel her spongy g-spot.

Time and time again the head of my cock would forcefully make its way directly into her inner pleasure button, and every time she would respond with the same breathy moan. Rather than bracing the weight of our joined bodies against the wall, Brittany moved her arm between her legs.

It wasn't long before I felt her fingers tickling the underside of my cock. In an effort to massage her clit and bring her orgasm rushing on, her fingers danced in circles around her throbbing switch, throwing her into overdrive.

There wasn't much time before I knew she would throw her inhibitions away and began raising her voice, as she typically does when she's close to cumming. Taking charge, I spun us around and braced my back against the wall of the stall, keeping the door on my left.

Now that Brittany no longer had to hold us up, she was savagely slamming her hips back and making sure to gobble up every inch of my pulsing cock. New life found its way into her fingertips and she used her second wind to speed up the rapid circling of her button, timing her wide rotations with the constant bouncing of her ass.

The thick, juicy cheeks were slapping against my stomach and rippling like somebody was throwing stones in a cream coloured pond. I would only have a second to see my dick slide out of her grasp, keeping the tip locked inside, until Brittany would let her weight drop and sink my boner back into the hot, sticky surroundings of her muffin.

Moist, buttery cream was churning in her tunnel. Cream that I knew was being made thicker with every long stroke of my cock. "Baby, I'm gonna-."

"I know, I can tell." She had her head balanced against the wall in front of us, trying to retreat into the recesses of her mind and block out everything except her impending orgasm. "You swell up when you're close. Fuck, right there, yes! And right now, oh god, you're bigger than usual."

She was right; I was balancing on the borderline of cumming and not. It was a dangerous game, and I knew it wouldn't be long until she was pumped with all the gooey batter my balls were managing to concoct for her. It was all for her, and she knew it.

"Yeah baby, I'm your whore. Fill me, fill-what the fuck was that?" Brittany stopped her chanting short when the sound of a creaky hinge snapped us from our oasis of lust. We both heard it, but I had written it off in hopes that I was just imagining things.

Two girls, sounding like they were in their late thirties, walked into the bathroom while chatting away like a moment of silence would've killed them completely.

"So, Tara said that Tiffany said she couldn't keep hanging out with Brian if they were gonna all stay friends with Kevin." I think one of them had black hair, and an accent that sounded vaguely New Jerseyan.

My attention was jerked away from their annoying voices and back to the constricting that Brittany's vagina was doing around my cock. She'd brought me close enough to my breaking point that I knew it was too late to calm the coming storm.

"I can't stop it, Brittany." I whispered harshly in her ear. She simply nodded enthusiastically, not concerned with the fact that we had two new guests in the restroom with us.

I squeezed her breasts with intensity and nearly bruised the two fluffy cakes. Biting into her shoulder helped quell the screams I was keeping in my stomach, while I squarely secured my hand over her mouth. Only I could hear her squeaks and stifled whispers, which sounded an awful lot like her orgasmic grunts.

All at once, our orgasms matched each other in timing and intensity. Even my toes were tingling as I dumped one, two, three ropes of cum into Brittany's greedy pussy. I knew she would try and hold on to my load for the rest of the day, savouring the way it felt to have my sperm sloshing around her tummy.

Nothing drew the semen from my balls as well as the warm, gooey bottom on Brittany's peach. I never came as much as I did when I was inside of her, irrelevant of which tight, eager hole I was filling. For thirty agonizingly slow seconds, I dumped the full contents of my balls into her awaiting pussy.

A relief of pure euphoria crossed Brittany's face as she felt her insides fill up, even when I started letting my cock slide out a few inches. I pushed back down to the bottom of her vice-grip vagina and felt the syrupy mixture of my sticky and her own honey marinating my shaft, swimming in her wetness.

This rush of release she felt went hand in hand with her own orgasm, still riding out the last waves of pleasure and biting down on my hand so the two girls outside our stall wouldn't hear us. Finally finished with our incredibly gratifying climaxes, we got redressed and prepared to exit the stall as soon as we could.

Peering through the crack between the door and the frame, we saw the two girls still applying makeup. A little grumble emitted from Brittany and I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug, kissing the back of her neck. "What's wrong, cutie?" Her hair was tickling my nose with little wisps of pink needles, but I didn't mind.

Her hair always smelt exactly how it looked, something she'd been trying to keep up for about six months now. That's three haircuts, by the way. First, she had sent away for a bubblegum scented shampoo from Mexico. It smelt incredible, but she made sure to switch the day there was a news expose on the company that sold her brand of shampoo.

I won't tell you what was wrong with it, but chances are whatever you're picturing is probably right. Gross, huh?

Anyway, she'd recently been swapping back and forth every week between lily flower, and pink lady apple. Today she'd chosen apple, knowing it was my favourite. "You smell decadent." I kissed the top of her head and she giggled into my arm, silencing the sound.

"I don't care how good I smell, I want out of this damn bathroom. You know I skipped lunch today to eat here, dammit. I want to stuff my face with that free bread." She was impatiently tapping her foot waiting for the girls to finish their primping, but it looked like they were almost done. To be fair I'm not quite sure if they were close to being done, I'm hardly a makeup expert.

"Happy anniversary, handsome." She reached her hand back and wrapped it around the back of my neck, massaging it firmly.

I kissed her shoulder and tightened my grip around her waist, to which she responded with a happy flutter of breath. "Happy anniversary, beautiful."

Finally, the two girls exited the bathroom and gave Brittany enough time to dash to the door and check to see if anybody would notice me walking out. She waved me through, and we crept back to our table. It was a good thing the restaurant was filling up so quickly; our waiter hadn't even had time to visit our table with our drinks yet.

"Was that risky, or what?" Brittany was laughing to herself, relishing the joy of not being caught getting railed in a washroom stall.

"So risky that we shouldn't keep doing it." I jabbed my fork at her playfully and she swatted it away with her knife. I dropped my weapon and surrendered to her.

"If I dare you at knifepoint, you'll do anything."

"I think that's more of a threat than a dare, Brittany. Does this mean our game is still going?"

"You tell me." Her eyes were telling me there was only one answer.

Mulling it over brought one thing to my mind, I just had to hope Brittany picked the right choice. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth." She chirped.

"Tell me something about you that I don't know."

She thought hard about her answer, but seemed disappointed she couldn't think of anything. "That's not fair! We've been together for a year, I can't even think of anything you don't know about me."

Even through her excuses, she was still trying to think of a reply. With her lively pink hair shouting at me for attention, I became lost in the infinite strands of candy floss.

I loved noticing the little things she did when she didn't know she was being watched. Like right now, her lips were pursed and tucked under her teeth, the same way they always do when she thinks too hard. Finally, she came out of her thought coma.

There was a look on her face I didn't see very often: nervousness. Yes, I still got butterflies in my gut when I was with her from time to time. But after dating for a year, I had expected that all the secrets between us had already been spilled.

"I want to be a mom." Her head had been tiled down until this point, and when she looked up at me it was with hopeful eyes.

"Now?" My heart was poised to catch in my throat, and I'm sure Brittany noticed it. I had always considered myself to be the kind of person who would be good at raising kids, but hadn't thought about it seriously yet. One thing I did know for certain was that I had no interest at having a kid when I was fresh out of high school.

"Not now, not even anytime soon. Eventually, I mean." She sipped her water and chewed in a piece of ice, cracking it beneath her teeth. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared."

"Liar." Brittany winked at me and settled my racing heart a bit. "I just meant that I can see myself being a mother. I'm still taking my birth control, promise." With a kiss blown in my direction, I was calmed entirely.

There was never and awkward silence between the two of us; instead, it felt more like a quiet lull that perfectly captured how in touch with each other we were. We didn't need to run our mouths all the time, sometimes it was enough to just sit and enjoy the other person's company.

Our waiter, Maurice, approached the table and apologized for taking so long. It was a busy night for the small restaurant, and most of the tables had been filled since we'd left for the bathroom. Lucky for us, everyone seemed too absorbed in their date night to notice we had ever left.

"Sorry I had to drop water off and leave so quickly, but we're absolutely swamped tonight." I could see the urgency in his furrowed brow. "How are you two? We haven't seen you in weeks!"

"We've been busy, but made time for-."

"For your anniversary." Maurice interrupted me. I'm not going to lie, I was stunned he remembered.

"Damn, Maurice, you're on point." I complimented him knowing that it would carry a lot of weight having somebody be nice to him on such a stressful evening.

"I think Brittany would want a burger for dinner, don't you agree?" I eyeballed Brittany and she grinned happily.

"Good call, baby. And he will have the..." Brittany rummaged through the menu, lips pursed and tucked in like I knew they would be. "Oh! He'll have tilapia filet!"

"Wonderful choice, ma'am." Maurice had let a smile spread across his face. He had been our waiter when we'd first come here exactly one year ago, the evening after I stayed at her house overnight. Olive Garden had been fully booked, so we went to the closest Italian eatery Brittany could find on her phone.