The Feminist

I loved her spontaneity and within five minutes we were walking into Duffy's Diner. It was early morning and a few customers were at the counter, hovering over coffee, but all the booths were empty. As we walked to a table, a plump waitress with bright red lipstick and wearing a pink uniform, called to us, "Sit anywhere, folks and I'll bring you some coffee."

We took our seats at a booth towards the rear and just as we sat down she brought us two mugs of coffee and handed us menus, "Morning folks, my name's Rosie."

"I know what I want," I said. "Make it two eggs up, rye toast and home fries."

"How 'bout you, miss," Rosie asked, as she wrote down my order.

"Same, except make mine over easy."

When she walked away, Megan again said, "I love diner food."

We picked up our coffee mugs and clicked them, smiling at each other. "To luck," Megan said.

"To luck," I repeated and took a sip of the hot coffee and let out a big,"ahhhhhhh."

Megan took a sip of her coffee and also, gave a big,"ahhhhhhhh."

We both laughed.

"I love coffee." She took another sip then put her mug down and looked at me. "So Jon, what's your story? Who are you? I know you love to fuck, but I want to know you."

I laughed at her directness. "Yeah, we didn't do much talking last night, did we?"

"True, but I can tell a lot about a man by how he fucks. And I already know a lot about you from that. But like I said, I'm insatiable. I want more of you, a lot more, so tell me your story."

"I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours."

"Okay, that's fair," she said, taking another sip of her coffee.

"I already told you a little. I'm a writer--novels, poetry. I was divorced two years ago. It was pretty friendly. We kind of wore each other out and I guess, a kind of boredom set in and we decided not to be in each other's movie anymore. Now, I live in a cabin in Maine, off the grid, a simple, quiet life. I used to teach, but gave it up and now I'm doing what I've always wanted to do. I just write everyday."

"Wow, off the grid. Cool!" Megan nodded. "It's good that you can write everyday."

"I'm actually pretty shy," I continued, "so what happened with us last night was pretty different for me. Nothing like this has ever happened to me. It just seemed that when you walked in, something took over and I immediately knew I wanted you."

"Me, too, I'm actually very shy, also, believe it or not. But like I told you, when I stopped in that bar, wanting to break out of my professional role, I was hoping I'd would meet some guy who wanted what I wanted. Usually nothing happens when I do that. Sometimes I get lucky, but then it's over and I feel kind of funny. It's hard to explain... kind of empty. Anyway, it's been awhile, but when I saw you, it was more than lust at first sight," she added and laughed. "I really wanted something to happen when I saw you. I can't explain it."

"Maybe it was just being in a bar in the middle of nowhere, and we were strangers and we just let go of our inhibitions. There's something exciting about anonymous sex--no strings, just lust."

She nodded, just as the waitress came and put our breakfast down. We stopped talking, nodded thanks and continued talking as soon as she walked away.

"Yes, I know what you mean about anonymous sex, but I've had that--one night stands, but meeting you in the bar last night was different."

"Different?"

"Yes, I was immediately attracted to you—especially when we started talking. I can't explain it. You seemed different. After I broke up with this guy over a year ago, I just went into hibernation. I wouldn't let anything like this happen, though I have had the opportunity with guys flirting and buying me drinks, but I always backed out at the last minute, getting them angry at me, calling me a tease and all that." She took a deep swallow of her coffee and put her cup down on the table.

"What was different?"

"It was intuition. When I walked in and our eyes met and I felt a smile come over me, I knew I wanted you. I mean I was horny to begin with--that's why I went there, but I can't just fuck anybody. There has to be something else going on. When you paid for my drink and I saw that look in your eyes, and we started talking, I knew we were going to fuck and I wanted it to happen. I trust my intuition."

"Are you sure you weren't just horny. I mean after over a year of not fucking."

"Positive. I wasn't all that horny when I first walked in–though I wanted to be, but when I saw you, I got really turned on, but, like I said, it was more than lust."

"You were dressed pretty provocatively, like you wanted action. Those tight jeans and tank top didn't leave much to the imagination."

"I like being sexy. I love my body and I love my mind and I like being in control."

"Are you a tease?" I smiled.

"Maybe, I guess so. Yes, I like turning guys on. I like when guys look at me, but I rarely let anything happen. I guess I'm caught between my feminist ideas and my wanting to just let go."

"That's pretty dangerous isn't it, turning guys on, teasing?"

"Yes and that's exciting to me, the danger." She took a sip of her coffee. "But like I said, I'm always in control. No one fucks me unless I want it."

"You're pretty complicated."

"Yes and you like that don't you," she said. "I could tell you liked it when I said I was insatiable and you said you were going to make me beg me to stop—you liked the challenge and that's when I was sure you were someone I could be interested in, the first guy in a long time. You weren't afraid of me and you knew you could control me--that excited me very much."

"Why did that excite you?"

"Because you made me your slut," she said, pausing. "I'm not a slut but no one has ever reached that secret place in me, a place I keep hidden and you got me so out of my mind with lust, I wanted you to fuck me into oblivion. I wanted to give my whole body to you. I wanted to lose control with you. I felt how generous and powerful you are. You gave me what I needed, something no one else has."

"Interesting," I said, nodding, looking into her eyes, fascinated by what she was revealing, her honesty and intensity was making her even more appealing.

"So, what's your story, Megan?" I asked, taking a bite of my toast. "I'm curious how you came to be so complicated."

She laughed, nodding at my comment, took a sip of her coffee then sighed. "I grew up in a very conservative family in New Jersey, you know, church every Sunday, choir practice on Thursday nights. I told you, my dad's a professor of Theology and I was expected to be a good girl and not have sex until I was married, but I loved to sing jazz and I took modern dance and performed in high school musicals. I liked letting loose in my singing and dancing." She took a bite of her eggs and toast, a sip of coffee and looked at me. "But I lost my virginity at a party in the back of this guy's car and loved the feeling, and so I dated him and we fucked a lot. My good girl days were behind me." She paused and took another sip of her coffee.

"What do you mean, your good girl days were behind you?" I asked then took a bite of my eggs.

"I realized that I didn't like being a good girl and living with other people's expectations. I loved sex and pleasure and left home to go to college. Actually I went to art school, and though I still loved to dance and sing, painting and pottery became my passion, but then my parents convinced me I should do something more practical and get a real profession and that's what I did."

"That must have been hard," I said. "You're an artist and you just stopped."

Again, she sighed and nodded. "It was hard at first, but then I really got into studying women's history and seeing how women are exploited, and I put all of my passion into studying and writing and becoming an advocate for women's rights. It became important to me and still is, but...." She paused.

"But," I repeated. "It's always what comes after the word 'but' that says what you really think."

Megan chuckled, nodding, indicating she knew what I meant.

"But underneath all my teaching and being a feminist, I began hating that word and felt a part of me was being swallowed up by my career and I was compromising who I was and knew I was missing something. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, you were living an image of what you thought you were supposed to be and not who you really are."

"Right, I was confused, messed up inside and wanting to let the real Megan live." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, shaking her head.

I didn't say anything but could see she was struggling to tell me her story, not just for my ears, but for hers. She opened her eyes, looked at me and smiled before speaking.

"So, what are you feeling?" I finally asked.

"Wait a sec. Let me tell you this. I remembered what it felt like to be painting and dancing and for a short while shared a studio with a friend in Soho when I was an art student and I felt so free, but I gave all that up to become a professor and make my dad proud of me--his daughter, the professor--and now I feel trapped and have been trying to break out, and it's hard, really hard because I feel like I've been forced to bury a whole part of me and I have this whole secret self that I find exciting--my sexuality--but I have to sneak and hide it and I feel I'm living a lie."

"I see," I said, nodding, looking into her sad eyes.

"So I started dressing differently and going to bars. I wanted to feel free again and I met some cool guys, but you know, I found that the guys I fucked, we're disappointments--selfish and egotistical. I wanted more than they could give me, more than just fucking."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my curiosity growing, my wanting to understand. I reached for her hands, holding them, wanting to feel what she was feeling.

"I wanted a man who really knew me and cared about me and didn't just want to get his rocks off. I mean I love fucking, you know that already, but none of them satisfied me in a way I needed, so about a year ago, after I broke up with this guy after realizing he wasn't all he seemed, I decided I wasn't going to have sex until I met a guy who I thought was right for me. I didn't want to waste my time, and so I threw myself into my teaching and writing and I haven't fucked anyone in over a year until last night."

"Really, I'm flattered." I was fascinated by what I was hearing and at how we were communicating.

"I stopped looking for the right guy. I stopped going to bars, to parties, to places just to meet guys and said the right man is going to come along when I least expect it--no more prowling, no more games, except for last night. For some reason, being far from home, I had the urge to go looking and had a feeling I'd be lucky and look what happened."

"That's really interesting," I said, taking the last bite of my eggs. "After my divorce, I decided the same thing. I wasn't going to look for anyone. I thought I would meet someone when I didn't expect it. It would just happen. I went to some parties and even looked online, but I remembered reading that Indians when they went hunting, sat in one place and waited for the deer or whatever to come to them, rather than to go off looking for prey. So that became my philosophy. I just wrote everyday, worked in my garden, read and believed one day the right woman would walk into my life."

"That's so cool." Megan smiled and our eyes explored each other's eyes, both of us thinking. She leaned back, running her fingers through her auburn hair, causing her turtleneck shirt to strain against her tits. Her nipples stood out like little peaks. Looking at her made my cock get hard, but I wanted to keep talking."God, she's beautiful, sexy and smart,"I thought as I looked at her.

"So, last night, do you think it was destiny that I crossed your path and you captured me?" she asked, taking a last sip of her coffee.

"I told you I don't believe in destiny. Our meeting was a fluke, an accident, a coincidence, but I'm glad we met. I'm glad you decided to go prowling. Very glad," I said then paused. "Do you feel captured?"

"I think we might have captured each other." She smiled and bit her lower lip.

"Is that good?"

"Maybe," she said and shrugged her shoulders. "Who knows?"

"Some hunters like to catch then release and give animals back their freedom."

"That's true, but some hunters also like to make what they catch their pets."

"You don't seem like a woman who wants to be a man's pet."

"It all depends on the man and how good a master he is."

"Oh," I chuckled.

"He'd have to be able to handle a pretty wild animal...a wild, insatiable animal." She smiled and we gazed into each other's eyes.

"I like wildness in a woman and you know I'm just as insatiable as you."

"I know that and I know that my intuition about you might be right. I felt how generous a lover you are. I felt you cared about my pleasure and that you were completely there for me. I need that."

"Does it bother you that I am probably fifteen years older than you?"

"Your age doesn't bother me at all, in fact, I like older men and I like your beard and long hair."

"Why do you like older men?" I asked, curious and surprised.

"Experience, patience," she answered, smiling. "And you seem very youthful. Your blue eyes have a twinkle and I liked how playful you were when we fucked. You were rough and gentle at the same time."

"Thank you." I took a last sip of my coffee and pushed my empty plate aside.

"If I'm not careful, I could fall in love with you." She shook her head and smiled.

"But wouldn't that complicate your life?"

"Maybe, but like I said, I follow my intuition."

"I follow mine, too and I trust my intuition and am rarely wrong."

"I like that." She leaned forward and took my hand in hers. We looked into each others eyes then leaned forward and we kissed over the table.

"Let's go back to the motel and test our intuition," she said. "I'm already wet."

"Good idea." I reached for my wallet. "We have a few more hours before check out time, and I'm already hard from looking at your luscious tits."

"You're such a bad boy." She smiled.

"And you're such a naughty girl wearing such a tight shirt like that."

I put twelve dollars on the table and waved to the waitress as we left. Megan walked in front of me and I loved how her ass swayed slightly as they strained her tight jeans.

When we got to the car, she stopped and kissed me. We hugged and kissed tenderly, then smiled warmly at each other. She went around to the other side and got in. While I drove, she reached over and put her hand on my thigh, just below my hard cock, then moved her hand and started rubbing the bulge in my jeans. I closed my eyes briefly from the sensation of her light touching. Fortunately, we didn't have to drive far.

"You like this, don't you," she said, softly, looking at me.

"Yes." I put my hand on top of hers as she rubbed me. "But you better be careful. You're playing with fire."

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do to me?"

"I'm going to drive you crazy." I turned then smiled. "I'm going to give you something to remember."

"You are, are you?" She squeezed my hard cock. "Well, I plan on driving you crazy, too."

I pulled into the motel's parking lot and parked in front of my room. We got out and walked up to the door. When we walked in, I noticed the time was nine forty five and check out time was noon. I had no idea what would happen when it was time to leave. Where would our passion for each other take us? But I was determined to take it hour by hour and live my philosophy of no expectations and just see what happens.

Once in the room, we stood still, looking at each other. We smiled as we looked into each other's eyes. She could see the bulge in my jeans.

"I think you're beautiful," I said.

"Thank you," she said with that slight playful smile she had when I first saw her walk into the bar. "You're not so bad yourself." She slowly started walking towards me.

I stepped towards her and took her in my arms and we kissed, tenderly at first. It felt good just to hold her close and kiss her gently, warmly, but then our kissing became more passionate. My probing tongue opened her warm lips and our tongues swirled with more intensity.

I moved my hands down to her ass and gripped her firm round cheeks. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, crushing her tits against my chest, and we moved together as if we were slow dancing, swaying and grinding against each other.

We continued kissing, holding each other close, both of us intuitively knowing we wanted a long, slow, intense morning of sensual pleasure, the complete opposite of our first encounter in the parking lot.

"Oh, this feels so good," she whispered in my ear as I held her close, my hand on her ass, our bodies swaying and grinding harder, my hard cock pressed against her pussy.

She moaned as we moved against each other.

I moved my mouth to her throat, just above her collarbone and licked and kissed her. She lifted her shoulders slightly, bending her neck, giving me more access. Suddenly, she started grinding and humping her pussy harder against my cock, which made me hump and grind harder. Then I moved her so that she was leaning against the edge of the bureau and unbuttoned her jeans, remembering she didn't have panties. Our eyes were fixed on each other while I pulled her jeans down over her hips. She squirmed as I lowered them down her thigh. I kneeled and took off her sandals and pulled the jeans over her feet. She knew what I wanted and spread her legs wide apart, stretching her legs on either side of me and leaned back with her ass on the edge of the bureau. I leaned forward, kissing and licking her thigh just below her pussy.

"Mmmm,"she moaned again.

I could see her wet pussy and smell the wonderful pungent smell of her sex. I was intoxicated.

"Oh, baby. I love this. I love this," she said, pushing her pussy against my tongue.

I loved how vocal she was and how it made me want to increase her pleasure as she responded with words and sounds. It was such a turn-on and I licked harder, moving my tongue slowly up and down her wet pussy lips. Her legs were wide apart, her pussy completely open to me. She arched her back and leaned back against the bureau and pushed herself against my mouth, forcing my tongue deeper, then grabbed my hair and pulled me into her as she fucked my tongue, gasping, "I love it. I love it. I love it."

I loved how strong and passionate she was. I moved my mouth to her clit, causing her to jolt.

"Oh, my God," she gasped and screamed when I sucked her clit. "I'm going to cum!" She pushed her pussy harder against my mouth. I knew she was on the verge of exploding, but I wanted to drive her crazy, so I took my mouth away from her pussy.

"Oh, no, don't stop! Don't stop!"

I turned her around to face the bureau. She bent forward with her legs wide apart, her arms on the bureau, giving my mouth full access to her dripping pussy. I quickly continued licking from that angle, her round ass just above me as I licked her wet pussy with the flat of my tongue moving it from her ass to her clit. I loved licking her pussy; my tongue lapping up her juicy cunt. She pushed back against my mouth and wiggled her ass so that my tongue went deeper. "Oh Jon, this is so fucking hot," she said as my tongue went deeper into her pussy, darting in and out, the tip of my tongue barely touching her soft-g-spot.

"Oh my God, I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum!"

Just as I felt her tense and tremble, I removed my tongue from her pussy and heard her scream. "No! Don't stop! Don't do this to me! Don't!"

I was determined to tease and prolong her being on the verge of an orgasm and quickly laid down on my back on the carpeted floor and pulled her down so that her legs straddled my head and her pussy covered my mouth, almost smothering me. I pushed her so that her back was arched, causing her pussy to open more to my insistent tongue.