The Blue Scarf

Just a really short story I wrote for my lover...as long as she likes it, I'm happy. But if you like it, too, then bonus!

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What is it about the shape of a sphere that compels a person to whack it as hard as possible? I don't know what it is that is so satisfying about controlling a bat to a little white ball, but I should thank heaven for whatever it is, because America's obsession with baseball is what pays my paycheck.

Of course, it's also what brought me to New York City in the middle of January for a week-long convention on grass and artificial turf systems. There are a million different ways to groom a baseball diamond, and the manager of the ground crew has to learn every single one of them, even if he has only one diamond to work on. Compelling, I know. Of course, since I worked for a municipality, they had decided that I was the only person they could afford to send, and I was there by myself, bored out of my mind on my downtime. Most of the other attendees were corporate types, trying to get guys like me to buy their crap, and I wasn't comfortable dealing with such soft-handed types. Just because I was the manager didn't mean I didn't get out there and do my share of the work, and I was more used to dealing with the guys with more muscles than brains, a category in which I include myself.

The only good thing about the convention was that it was in New York, even if it was the middle of winter, and freezing. The entire convention was taking place in a huge convention center, with the hotel attached by a pedestrian walkway crossing over 11th Avenue. Of course, the hotel and the convention center had a huge bar and a separate restaurant, which had to have been frequented by locals. Every night I had gone to dinner, I had seen plenty of good looking New Yorkers on the town. They had to have been New Yorkers - there aren't that many hot groundskeepers around these things.

The last seminar of the day had been three hours long, and it felt like it was six. I was exhausted as I exited the massive room with the crowd. I could tell from the zombie-like shuffle of the others around me that I wasn't the only one. I started to turn towards the stairs that led to the footbridge, but something bright caught my eye as my gaze swiveled, and I turned back.

It was a bright blue scarf, one of those fashionable ones in the color of a robin's egg. I had seen it a few times earlier in the week, around the booth of a pesticide distributor my ballpark used. While the scarf was what grabbed my attention, it was the woman who the neck belonged to that stopped my gaze. In a word, she was a babe. Chestnut colored hair wrapped in a stylishly sloppy bun sat above a pair of sexy librarian glasses; her face belonged on a sculpture of Helen of Troy.

Tonight, she was wearing a fitted vest with a white blouse underneath that was unbuttoned enough to hint at a generous bosom. The vest accented her curves, hips shimmied into a pencil skirt, with legs that seemed to go on forever. I had seen her in a few other seminars and meetings before, and she was always wearing that blue scarf. Something about it was so sexy.

She was walking in my direction, but I had no illusion that she was heading towards me rather than the stairs. I still stopped, and as she walked by, her perfume wafted under my nostrils. She smelled as heavenly as she looked. She headed up the stairs, and I began to follow behind her, my eyes locked on to her magnificent ass. She was sexy, and she knew it, too. Her pointy heels clicked on the floor with each step, her hips swaying back and forth in that practiced manner that only a woman who knows the power of her sexuality has.

I trailed in the wake of her scent like a ship in formation as we crossed the street, fifty feet above the pavement. It might just have been the hours of interminable boredom, but the sight of this woman filled me with a stronger desire than I had felt in years. A pang of longing shot from my head to my groin, and I felt myself start to stiffen slightly.

I want to say I don't know why I was following her, but I did. I had been planning to head back to my room and get a full night of sleep, but after seeing her, I knew that wherever she was going, I would follow.

We headed back down the stairs to the hotel, and I slowed my descent so that we were walking towards each other for a moment as the stairs wrapped around. I caught a top-shot down her shirt each time they did so, and I couldn't help but imagine my cock nestled in between the soft valley of her cleavage.

The bar was situated directly across from the stairwell entrance, and I followed her in. She took a spot right in the middle of the bar, with a group of people I vaguely recognized from another conference I had seen her in earlier that week. I kept moving, taking an empty stool on the opposite corner.

I had no desire to drink, but I thought it would look out of place if I was sitting in a bar by myself drinking a soda, so I ordered a beer. I tried to be inconspicuous, but in retrospect, I'm sure it was completely obvious to anyone paying attention that I kept checking her out. Of course, I wasn't the only one. Like I said, there aren't a ton of women in this industry, and the ones that are don't usually come to these shows looking that great, so when a good looking one does come around, she gets a lot of attention.

I sat with that one beer for an hour, the liquid getting warmer and warmer as I sat, just watching her interact with the other guys she was sitting with. It wasn't anything special, you could tell from the body language that everybody there was superficially cordial, brought together by a mutual dislike of crabgrass.

A little after I had finished my beer, she made as if to get up and leave. One of the other guys sitting next to her stood up, but as soon as he spoke, her face tightened up, she shook her head and he sat back down. Must've given him the brush-off or something. I threw enough cash on the bar top to cover my bill and started moving, getting ready to follow her again. I timed it perfectly; she turned on her heel and started walking towards the exit as I rounded the corner of the bar. I followed behind her, glancing at the guy who had made a pass at her. I'm pretty sure we wanted the same thing. Too bad for him one of us wasn't going to get it...

I caught up to her as she was waiting for the elevator. It came to the ground floor, and we walked in. This was the closest I had been to her all day, and the traces of her perfume and whatever she had been drinking - maybe vodka - played with my nostrils. I imagined my finger pressing the stop button mid-floor, trapping her with me and taking her against the wall as we waited for someone to help us...

She pressed the button for her destination.

"What floor you going to, mister?" she asked, smiling at me. I just nodded, mumbling something along the lines of "same one" to her. She turned back to facing the door, and we stood there in awkward silence until the elevator dinged at her floor. Being the gentleman, I let her off first, following behind her, much closer than I had been earlier in the evening.

When we reached her room, I stopped behind her, as if to go to the door across the hall. I heard her lock mechanism release, and I turned back to face her. She turned around to me.

"Well, I didn't know we were neigh...hey!" she squeaked mid-sentence as I barreled into her, pushing her through the ajar door into her room. "What are you doing?"

I didn't reply, merely pushing her further into the room, spinning her and pinning her against the wall. The door quietly slipped shut behind us, and I heard the lock reset.

"Look mister, I don't know what you're doing..." her protest died on her lips as I grabbed her wrists, slamming them into the wall and grinding my hips into hers. In her heels, she was easily as tall as I was, but I dropped my hips, guiding the muffled tip of my cock to exactly where I wanted to bury it. I was already half-hard, and I was certain she could feel me through our clothes. I buried my nose into her neck and inhaled her perfume, that intoxicating scent that had burned a hole in the moral center of my brain.

One whiff, and I turned into an animal. I grabbed the topmost buttoned button on her blouse, and pulled. Hard. Cloth tore and buttons went flying as I tore open the vest and the blouse in one clean jerk. Her bra-clad breasts and flat stomach were exposed to me. It was a sexy bra, too, blue lace to match the color of the scarf.

With all her strength, she pushed me away and swung an open hand at my face. I caught her wrist before it made contact, and threw her across the room, onto the bed. She bounced off of the springy mattress, her breasts jiggling enticingly. I bounded across the room, landing on top of her, pinning her thighs underneath me.

"Please..." she begged me as I pulled her scarf off her neck. "I have a fiancee..."

"Oh please," I said, finally speaking to her. "Is he here? You wouldn't have worn a bra that matched your scarf if you didn't want someone seeing it, would you?" I ran my hands down the front of her body, roughly pawing her palm-sized breasts for emphasis. "Do your panties match, I wonder?" Reaching for the hem of her skirt, I roughly yanked at it until it too split down the seam. I tossed the shreds of the useless garment off of her body. She was wearing a frilly blue thong, obviously a set with the bra. "Well, they do. See, you wanted to get fucked tonight, didn't you?"

"God..." she moaned as I pulled her panties aside and slid my finger inside her. Even with all her acting out, she was wet.

"See?" I asked, holding my glistening finger up for emphasis. "You don't want me to leave." I stood up, grabbing her roughly by the knees and pulling her to the edge of the bed. "You want my cock." I pawed impatiently at my zipper, finally freeing my now rigid shaft. Wrapping my arms around her thighs, I raised her hips up to my body. Without any pretense, I slid inside her yielding pussy. She screamed, and I grabbed the scarf off the bed and wrapped it around her mouth. She struggled, but made no motion to move it.

I sawed my dick back and forth into her, using the springiness of the mattress to bounce her body against mine as my legs started to tire. Her breasts, still in her bra, were bouncing deliciously, but I couldn't reach them from the position I was in. All the fight seemed to have gone out of her, but as I withdrew my cock from her, she stirred and looked into my eyes again.

"Back, towards the headboard," I commanded, pointing to the head of the bed. Silently, she slid her ass up the bed until her head was near the pillows. I kicked my shoes off and quickly stripped my pants away, my cock waving menacingly in front of me as I climbed back onto the bed, crawling up her body again. My eyes roamed upward, from her feet, still in those fuck me heels, up her legs, to the mound of her pussy. She was positively glistening, a thin sheen of her lubrication coating her lips. I grasped one leg of the thong and snapped the elastic, allowing me to pull down the other leg. The bed was already littered with the detritus of the past ten minutes: buttons, torn lace, the swatch of fabric that had been a skirt. I spread her legs wide and nestled my cock back between her lips, sighing as I parted them with my head. I slid just the first inch in as I pressed my body against hers, running my tongue along her earlobe.

"You've been teasing me this entire conference. Now I get to do my own teasing," I taunted. It took all the control I had to remain stationary inside her, but I stilled my body from moving the slightest inch as I ran my tongue down her neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave rough red spots forming. I knew she'd have marks in the morning. I kept up on my journey, running my mouth down to her bra. I could see her nipple, hard through the lacy fabric. I bit, not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to hurt. She gasped through the scarf and arched her back, shoving her tit into my face. My hands reached down, encircling her waist and running under to cup her asscheeks as I drove my shaft deep into her.

As soon as I bottomed out, she went wild. Her hips bucked against me, her hands flew to my back, and she pulled me tight to her, our chests mashed together as I pistoned my dick in and out of her hot, tight sheath. She screamed, loud enough to be heard through the scarf, and her body went stiff beneath me. Through her orgasm, I kept pounding away, her pussy spasming and squeezing all around my cock as it plunged in and out of her. As her orgasm seemed to end, I couldn't take any more. With one final thrust, I pulled out as I started spurting cum. One, two, three shots streamed from my cock, landing across her chest and her stomach. Spent, I collapsed on top of her, my own cum soaking into my shirt.

We lay there for a moment, before she turned her head to me. Slowly, she unwrapped the scarf from around her mouth. "I thought you wanted to fuck my ass tonight."

"No," I replied. "I changed my mind on the elevator. I just wanted to take you there. I needed to come, and your pussy was the quickest way to do it."

She giggled and ran a hand underneath my shirt, tracing my spine gently with her fingertip. She giggled again. "Well, it seemed to work out for the best." She frowned, looking down at the mess underneath us on the bed. "You know that was the last skirt I had for this trip, right?"

I laughed and pulled my fiancee into a bear hug. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."