Two Blondes

He had noticed Sandra in the office building, once or twice. It would be difficult not to. She seemed to be all tits and ass, with a little brain. The kind Jeff hated. She looked like the sort of arrogant woman who expects all men to swoon at her feet just for a smile.

Jeff found himself in one of the elevators with her, and to his amazement she started a conversation.

"Hi, I've seen you around. What do you do here?" she asked.

Jeff kept it simple and fought hard not to let the disdain show. It wasn't her fault she was beautiful, and that he had a problem with it.

"Would you join me for a coffee? I hate going into the restaurant alone," she asked.

Now, Jeff could see why men drool over big brassy blondes. Her shape was having an influence on his metabolism. OK! He was getting hot under the collar; a lot further down was getting hot. Jeff had never been a flirt or a woman chaser and he didn't have a line of chat like most guys. Most telling of all was that he hadn't had a girlfriend for a few months. Actually, it was more than a few months. That certainly seemed to be influencing his decision making skills, for he hadn't been heading for the canteen.

Fortunately she did most of the talking, while Jeff was mesmerized by a pair of deep blue eyes. It was fascinating the way she looked into the distance when recalling something, and closed them to figure something out then opened them wide, as though in astonishment, that she had recalled the idea she wanted. She was no genius, but the excitement and enthusiasm she brought to the conversation was like a whirlwind of disconnected ideas, eventually making sense.

She was just so full of life it took his breath away.

She stood up, dropping her bag, which Jeff caught, scooping it up. Like a sirocco, a desert wind, she whirled away from the table leaving him a little on the tilt. His prejudices had been shattered. Jeff felt like a pinball machine with dazzling lights in his head, flashing in meaningless patterns. He sat quietly, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"Hi Jeff, what was all that about?" Mark asked.

"I'm not sure," Jeff admitted, before the thought could be edited.

Mark was one of those wise guys, who have to put you down to boost their own lack of self-esteem. In other words, he was an asshole.

"She's way out of your league man," Mark said, trying to sound serious.

Jeff knew something sarcastic was forming, for a routine follow-up, but nodded his head anyway, for it was true. She was a twenty-two year old innocent and he was a thirty-two year old cynic. Mark was right. There was no way, but Jeff hadn't thought about it that way, not for a moment.

"She's too young and dumb and you're too old and too boring. Believe me, it wouldn't work. Nothing to talk about afterwards," he sneered.

It was a good point, something to keep in mind, just to keep everything in proportion. The way he said it was just too hard hitting. It was insulting. Friends could slap you down but this guy was a jerk.

"I liked what she had to say; it was refreshing. She was interesting to talk to. So, does that make me dumb too?" Jeff asked. He shrugged, knowing that as a witty rejoinder, it was pretty woeful. As a well-paid consultant steering the project, he couldn't be called dumb, but yes, Jeff was dull. Life was dull! He thought about it and decided it was his own fault. He had let life become boring.

"Thank you, Jeff," Sandra said.

The light tinkle of Sandra's voice stopped another of Marks sneering remarks. Instead he settled for a snort of disgust and slunk off.

"That was nice of you to say such a thing," she added. She placed a small delicate hand on his shoulder.

Jeff was surprised by her presence and highly embarrassed she had heard the discussion. "It's true. You're so full of life it's a pleasure to talk to you. I enjoyed sharing ideas," he said, and quickly stopped, for he was in danger of babbling on forever.

"If that's true, you can take me out for a drink after work," she said. There was a teasing quality to the tone that made it a challenge.

His tongue felt as though it had swollen in his mouth, as much as his penis had shrunk in his trousers. He smiled, knowing not to grin like an idiot. "Sure, that would be nice," he said.

"Here's my number, call me later," she cooed.

He hoped she hadn't noticed he neglected to ask for it, as his brain had closed down. A fear of what he might be getting into had shrunk his penis to nothing, so a lack of blood flow was no excuse. He took a couple of deep breaths to relax. He thought through what had happened, how he had gotten into this. Did he really want to date this young woman?

He was an analyst, so he naturally tried to think through how they had met. In his mind he was getting into the elevator, pressing the button for the executive level. Damn! He had been on his way to a meeting. Scurrying off he walked in late but no one took any notice, as though he were invisible or invulnerable to criticism. Perhaps unimportant might have been nearer the mark.

***

He picked her up from an ordinary apartment in an average part of town. There was no plaque on the building saying - "Miss Wonderful lives here." Their conversation was stilted and the local pub was quiet, so they had to make an effort. He mentioned his job but was aware enough not to bore her with details. After the second drink he ran out of questions, but she managed to keep the conversation flowing around them.

"Do you know why I asked you out?" she smiled. The smile wrinkled her nose up in a cute way that left him smiling pleasurably. He shook his head, not trusting himself to answer, feeling it would be sarcastic and a self-putdown.

"While we were talking in the canteen you looked me in the eye, rather than at my breasts. Men always do that. I don't blame them," she added, in a hurried breathy way he found charming. "When you defended me against that jerk, well, I couldn't help myself. You were so gallant, a Prince Charming, coming to my rescue," she gushed.

"It was the truth," he said, unsure as to what it was he was saying and where to go next. "They are nice, big, blue, lovely eyes. I enjoy the way you enthuse over ideas," he smiled, more in embarrassment than anything. She didn't seem to notice the awkwardness.

"Most men say that about my breasts, not my eyes," she laughed. "They never ask me anything either," she said, with the crinkled-brow expression she used when she thought. "You've asked me all sorts of things I hadn't thought about in ages. You're a nice, kind person. Thoughtful," she said, with her head tilted to one side.

"No, no more, I can't drink much. You can take me home now," she said, looking up at him with a vulnerable little expression. She gave him a curious look then smiled generously, with her whole face, not just the mouth.

***

"Come on in," Sandra said, on seeing him hesitating at the door. She smiled, knowing he was wondering about the protocol of how to say goodnight. Should he shake hands, or go for a light peck on the cheek.

"How do you take your coffee?" Sandra asked. She turned her back to him, fiddling with the coffee machine.

Jeff took the opportunity to have a good look at her while she was working. She had long blonde hair almost down to her waist, which was slim over a nice rounded bottom. Her legs weren't long but they were very nicely shaped. From this angle it couldn't be guessed that she had a large pair of breasts. At twenty-two, her skin still had an attractive fresh youthful sheen.

He was suddenly shaken from his reverie as a young woman walked into the kitchen. She bent over, rummaging through a cupboard looking for something. Jeff felt as though he should look away, but the sight of her cute bottom, clad only in a pair of panties, was enthralling.

It was as though a duplicate image of Sandra had been set beside her, stripped down to her underwear. Showing off her voluptuous body and even more, she was bent over, allowing him to visually devour her beautiful ass. The two blondes were a perfect match, from where he sat at the kitchen table.

He turned away to look at a calendar, unable to see its summer scene, for wherever he looked the half naked figure was superimposed upon his retina.

"Louise, this is Jeff," Sandra said.

He watched Sandra turn around to see her friend frozen in place. Sandra stifled a laugh.

"Oh! I didn't hear anyone come in. I'm wearing my old comfy knickers," Louise began, but her mouth dried up, realizing she was sounding stupid.

Jeff automatically stood up and offered his hand. Louise stood with an empty coffee cup in one hand, with the other trying to cover her full breasts. Her legs were folded over each other to hide her crotch. Just as automatically her hand reached out to his.

Jeff succeeded in looking her in the eyes as he shook her hand. His nervousness made him pump too hard. In his peripheral vision her breasts were gyrating, as though he were putting her through a stripper's routine. He snatched his hand away mumbling a hello and a sorry.

Louise stood in the small kitchen wishing she had at the very least worn a decent set of underwear, and wondering if she should just run away.

"You've made an impressive entrance, my dear," Sandra smiled at her friend. "Sit down, I'll fill your mug," she smiled. "You might as well sit, he's seen it all and he's man enough not to gawp," she added.

Jeff looked at Sandra with a wan smile, hoping he hadn't been too obviously ogling her friend.

Louise plonked herself down at the table with the empty mug in her hand, proffering it to Sandra. The red of embarrassment had faded, leaving an impish look upon her face. "Coffee, coffee," she moaned in a near whisper, feigning a dry throat.

"Stop messing around and say hello to Jeff," Sandra told her friend.

"Hello, Jeff. Sorry about the lack of clothes but you seem to be able to handle me well," she said, and blushed. "I mean, handle it well," she added, with a little nervous laugh.

"Give up while you're ahead," Sandra advised her friend.

Jeff squirmed on the chair. He smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders. "This morning I didn't expect to be going out for a drink with a beautiful woman, now I'm drinking with two," he said, and laughed in embarrassment at the bad joke.

"We would be drinking, if the maid would get on with it," Louise said, in a stage whisper.

"The maid is trying her best with this damn machine," Sandra replied.

"Is she a good maid?" Jeff asked, trying to get into the game.

"She's too slow but I keep her on out of kindness. She needs a spanking to speed her up. Could you oblige, Jeff?" Louise said, with an imperious tone.

"Oh! Please don't spank me, miss! Here's your coffee, miss, and yours, sir," Sandra said, in an exaggerated subservient little voice. She curtsied to both of them as they laughed along with her.

"What do you think?" Louise asked, after taking a sip.

"Nice," he said. "Very nice," he added, while looking at Sandra.

"Doesn't look as though the maid will receive a well deserved spanking then," Louise said, with a wink at Sandra.

"Oh? Maybe later," Sandra pouted, with a wink back at her friend.

There were only two chairs in the kitchen, for just the two girls, to save room. Sandra looked at Jeff and then sat gingerly on his lap. "Hope you don't mind, kind sir," she said.

"Well, you two look cozy; do you want me to go?" Louise asked.

"Not unless you take the chair with you," Jeff smiled at her. He felt Sandra tighten her grip on his hand and knew she would remain there anyway. He tightened his grip around her waist, squeezing her playfully.

They didn't hear Louise's joking complaints as she left, for they were looking at each other intently. Their lips brushed gently, her eyes closed, while he fed upon her beauty hungrily. He needed to slow down, to calm down a little, his heart was racing.

He kissed her lips, running the tip of his tongue over them. He pulled her upper lip into his mouth and nibbled on it. He felt her wriggle her bottom on his hard cock, massaging it through his trousers. She opened her mouth, letting him enter her, and her tongue played with his, enwrapped in a passionate tangle.

They sucked and gasped and gripped each other with arms enwrapped about their bodies. They began to pull and tug at the clothing, caressing exposed flesh with exploring fingertips. The flat of a hand smoothed up a back, a hand gripped an arm, then moved on to unclip a bra or unzip a fly.

The chair fell over as she was lifted onto the kitchen table.

Louise heard a crash and a yelp, making her leap up out of bed. She ran to the kitchen, not knowing what to expect. In the doorway she gripped the wooden frame, as though fastened to it. For a moment she thought her friend was being assaulted, until the mutual savagery became evident.

She sucked on his nipples, while clawing his back.

He pulled her to the edge of the table.

They had hastily ripped off their clothes, which were scattered around the kitchen, left wherever they landed. His large penis was rigid, moving in toward her friend's pussy. Louise backed away with a hand between her legs. It was both instinctively protective and gripping her crotch with lascivious intent. She fixedly watched the hard cock invade her friend, though it felt as though she herself were being taken.

She stumbled back to her bedroom with her head spinning, re-running the images of lust she had just witnessed. She fell back on the bed with legs splayed, hastily pulling the crotch of her panties to one side. She began furiously rubbing her swollen lips. She wiped her bud with a finger, while pinching a nipple, as she began a long, pleasurable journey.

As soon as Louise left, Sandra locked her heels around his back, pulling him to her, feeling a delightful fullness. She threw her head back, moaning loudly as he picked up his pace. She realized he was taking his cue from her movements, matching her slight thrusts that were wobbling the table.

"Lift me up, the table will collapse," she said, through pouting lips. He held her tight in his arms, squashing her face in his chest, still thrusting with powerful legs. She remembered he had been a keen cyclist, and thanked him for it with mumbled words around a nipple.

"Give it to me, all of it, deeper, fuck me hard, you bastard," she wailed, in one long outpouring of a whoosh of air.

She sucked hard on his nipple then bit it sharply, as an orgasm hit her belly. It was like a cramp shooting out through her entire body. Both nipples swelled till they hurt. Her legs went into a spasm, digging both heels into his hard bottom. Her arms tightened around his neck and she tried to rake his back with her nails.

"Stop! Hold it there, don't move," she spoke harshly.

She heard him groan knowing it wasn't from the pain of her attack but from his orgasm. He jerked roughly; despite her clinging limbs trying to keep a hold of him, trying to keep him still. She was trying to cope with the violent sensations coursing through her over-sensitized nervous system.

She felt his cock jerking, knowing his powerful cock was spewing sperm into her body, imagining it strongly swimming up inside, invading her, fertilizing her, making her his woman. She yelled out a string of garbled curses, wanting to beat upon his back. She needed to tear at him, to hurt him. Unable to let go of him to use her fists, in case she fell away from his cock, a cry of frustration was ripped from her throat.

"Fill me up, fill me with your cum, make me yours, you bastard, don't let me go!"

She felt his cock subsiding from her and cried out again. "Let me squeeze it! Let me have it all!" she complained.

It felt like a great loss, an emptiness needing to be assuaged; she wanted to squeeze his powerful cock, needing to squeeze out every last drop of the potent force that had fired her belly. She slipped from his grasp, unable to unhook her ankles from around him, unable to move her limbs. Her nipples fired a little wave of pleasure as they ran down his chest.

He perched her bare bum on the edge of table, breathing heavily in her ear. The sensation tingled, as every touch of his hands and body sent little shivers through her. She felt everything in stark gut-wrenching intensity. She knew then, this man was too good to let go. She had felt it from the moment they spoke that morning, but now she knew for sure.

The moment of madness didn't subside into guilt or regret; she simply wanted him and would keep him. A deep sense of well-being flooded her as he carried her from the kitchen, still clinging to his body. "Left," she managed to tell him through heavy breaths.

They tumbled upon the bed, lying there in each other's arms, not caring about anything or anyone. He needed to sleep but managed to keep awake long enough to whisper in her ear how much he wanted her.

She didn't listen to the words but took in the intensity of the meaning. When his arms slackened from around her she pushed him aside, so as to look at him. She already knew she liked what she saw. He came across as a serious, almost geeky guy, someone she wouldn't have considered in the past.

***

Louise heard her friend's gasps and howls of pleasure. Her fingers reached inside with a thumb rubbing intently upon her nub. She knew this would leave her frustrated but she had to orgasm. The sight of that man entering her friend was fixed in her mind, as though she were the woman being taken.

"Make love to me, be gentle with me, do it to me," she whispered, with a wispy voice.

The final gasps from Sandra were hers, and his lovemaking noises were in her ears, now so very sensitive. It felt as though he were here, making love to her. A slow delicious orgasm crept over her. It was deeper than expected. The orgasm took her, as though he were taking her on a lovely journey. It gently spread over her body, eventually leaving her sated.

"Yes! Oh! Yes! It's wonderful! You lovely man," Louise hissed, through clenched teeth.

***

Sandra stroked his hair, kissing his fluttering closed eyes. It was her turn to murmur endearing words, unabashed at having known him for only a few intense hours. In a few moments she too was sleeping contentedly.

***

In the morning she awoke to watch him sleeping. Propped up on an elbow, she smiled to herself, thinking over yesterday. Never had she been as forward as this, letting a man into her bedroom on a first date. Though technically it had been in the kitchen, she thought, giggling at the naughtiness of the act.

They had talked a lot, discovering little things about each other, but they were still strangers. She hoped the gut feeling of meeting someone different, someone good for her, wasn't wrong.

"Hi!" he said.

It took her by surprise and she smiled; a large open gesture of pleasure.

"You have a wonderful glint in your eyes. I think we should get to know each other a bit better, don't you?" he said, with a big teasing smile on his face.

Sandra liked the way he looked at her. He didn't talk to her breasts he talked to her, and he listened, too. He didn't treat her like a dumb blonde either; he considered what she said. What he did to her last night was great too. She giggled over that, having to turn away under his intense stare, as though he might read her mind.

"Do you do this all the time, invite strange men to your bed?" he teased.

From anyone else she would have been insulted and slapped them hard, but there again, someone like that wouldn't have been invited into the apartment.

"Yes, of course. I believe in making everyone I meet happy. Have I made you happy?" she teased, right back at him.

"So happy I don't think I'll let you go," he said, while grabbing hold of her head to kiss her lips.