What's in a Name

A man obsessed with one-night stands finds his match.

He looked down on her thin, alabaster body twining on the end of his cock deep up and inside her. Her sweeping blonde hair waved from side-to-side as her small nippled tits reverberated her movement and accentuating each lurch. Her cheeks and chest were flushed red and her naturally rose-colored lips were the only colors on her thin wan face lost in this moment of cresting. Thick open palms pushed down on her breasts, sliding them up her frame, distorting her malleable round masses, tumid fat nipples squeezing through his open fingers.

He had met her while he was reading on a bench on the beach esplanade. She trotted up having just finished her daily run and was doing her post-run leg stretches on the other end of his bench. He started some idle talk with her as she sat down, her hair swept up in a ponytail, checking her pulse. He had an easy way about him that people gravitated towards, and she enjoyed their conversation. Soon they were in her beachside apartment having a beer. He made her laugh. Three beers later he was inside her.

Planting her two feet securely on the mattress for support, she raised her white hips against his drives. Shivers emanated from her abdomen and chest as she buried her face in pillows to muffle her screams. Long thin legs shuddering, stomach convulsing, her silver cum pulsing out around his buried cock as she came. Jerk-by-jerk she wracked before slowing her spastic swaying, her tits roaming up and down as she gasped for breath. Pulling the pillows away from her face, her blue eyes came into focus again; her last few lashing shudders of orgasm.

She braced herself for what was to come as he dropped his head, closing his eyes, his muscles tensing. She felt a bucking deep in her swollen velvet pussy, his cock head coming to life. Grabbing her hips, he pushed down to his base, paused for a moment, then came; surging sperm into her foaming honeyed darkness. Slap after slap of thick cum filling her up with his heat, his molten DNA.

- - - - -

He loved fucking and searched out women to seduce; all kinds of women. Some whiff or movement or look or sound would set him off and turn him on. Maybe the nape of a strange woman's neck on the subway, her hair brushed back exposing the long line of her neck and shoulders. Maybe it was a peek of a thigh through a slit in a skirt, the terminus of dark silky nylons engineered to entice, to whisper only to him.

- - - - -

Rotund ass exposed and open, she was planted face down on the stone kitchen counter breathing heavily. Her white blouse was pulled down and her buxom breasts squeezed out of her black bra and rubbing noisily on the slick stone. Her flowered skirt was pushed up around her belted waist and her black panties were already on the tile floor, flung wetly to one side. Grabbing the folds of her hips he rocked deep inside her unshaved pussy working his cock steady and hard in her welcoming pink folds. She liked his dominance, his force against her neglected cunt and she was dripping her greasy slick in a puddle on the tile floor between her legs. Uhh, uhh, uhh. Drip, drip, drip.

She had dropped a can of caviar on the floor at the grocery store. He met her face close up as they both reached down to get it. She was older, in her early 40's and with a little extra weight; Rubenesque he thought. He liked the way she dressed for her figure, wearing a white, ironed button-up blouse and a very pretty flowered skirt with a wide black leather belt synched tight. Big inch thick black frosted curls billowed up from the nape of her neck, piled on top of her head contrasting nicely with her brown skin--Latina perhaps. She was nicely made up and her blouse was sweetly open showing a straight cleavage meaning big meaty breasts. She had silver bangles and pearls and big silver disk earrings showing off her neck. Her perfume was floral and very sexy.

They smiled awkwardly as he handed her the dropped can, she embarrassed for the commotion. He set her at ease and talked comfortably for a short while before continuing on with their shopping. Perhaps not by accident he bumped into her again out in the parking lot and helped her with her groceries. She asked him over to her house nearby for a coffee or drink. They sat and drank whiskey sours at the kitchen table and talked and laughed. It wasn't long before he was up her dress, pushing her legs apart and fucking her from the rear.

He grabbed her abundant ass and used it to shove roughly in and out of her liquid crease. Her cries with every plant were both plaintive and pleasurable; her slick splashed when his crotch met hers. Her skin rolled back and forth as he fucked her, a layer of fat gliding across her frame underneath.

She grunted under her covey of curls with each drive, her hands spread flat on the stone countertop for support. "Unh! Unh! Uhn! I'm...cuming...I'm cuming...oh...god!" she screamed as her loose skin rippled, like from a pebble dropped in water, up and down her length. She jacked hard against the counter, her open hands and tits skittering on the marbled top. "Uuuuuuuuuggggggggghhhhhhhhh!" she grunted into the cold stone as she shook, his cockhead buried deep in her uterus. She issued frantic animal snarls with each breath as she slowed, rising up and down, tits distorted on the stone, her eyes wide open looking straight out the family kitchen window over the sink.

As she slowed she felt his body tense, his cockhead shutter, as she returned to reality. She screamed into the stone counter, "Don't cum in me! Don't cum in me!!!! I'm not on the pill!!!! Pull out!!!" Her body was lurching from side to side as if trying to get him out of her. He was pressed so hard against and in her she couldn't move.

He let his engorged cock slip smoothly out with a loud creamy slurp. Smoothly he ran his greased length up between her full butt crack, pushed her ample cheeks tight around his cock and he came spurting into the air, his cum falling back down on to her open round ass. As he shot his sperm he rocked her ass back and forth, coddling his jacking cock. Her groans were loud and staccato with each lurch, his cock grating her asshole as he shoved up and down her crack. As he was finishing, she emphatically came again.

- - - - -

Maybe it was long painted fingers delicately holding a cup of coffee at a counter, silver bangles dropping down on her exposed arms. Or perhaps long lashes over green eyes, or thin waist or the flick of hair. Often it was her aroma: a subtle whiff of perfume and sweat, a breeze of primal juices from between breasts or under a skirt.

- - - - -

The interior of the car seemed to mechanically echo and magnify their groans and grunts and spurts and slapping. She was on top of him in the passenger seat, aggressively pounding her cunt up and down his cock; wild and trashing. Legs bent up and spread wide open, her tight black dress was pushed up around her thin waist. Young, full tits spilled out of her unbuttoned scoop top, perfectly white and crested with the loveliest dark swollen nipples. Her stringy black dyed hair slashed from side-to-side as she threw herself on him, nearing her peak.

Just an hour before he was sitting at the far end of the bar, sipping his rye old fashion, watching the sexy 21-year-old bartender work her job. Jet-black hair with long bangs that almost covered her eyes, she was wrapped tight in a low-scooped white top, which showed her healthy nipples clearly and her sculpted cleavage dramatically. Her top was cropped short and showed her pillow soft abdomen and studded navel. Her top's short sleeves revealed magnificent full-length, colorful Japanese tattoos of koi and seaweed and water wrapping around her arms. She wore Egyptian mascara and blue fingernail polish. He watched her work all night and admired how her ass rocked in her too-tight miniskirt with her pinched and exposed waist.

The club was packed and the drinks flowed. Whenever there was a little break, she always came down to his end of the bar and spoke to him with a coy smile. She parked her drink under the bar where he sat so when she came over she took a drink. As the club emptied out he was the last patron in the club and walked her out to her car. Within minutes they were in her car, fucking.

The car was lurching as she jacked up and down on his rod, grunting loudly making animal noises. At full penetration she fell down on his naked chest, gripping his furred pecs, looking drunkenly into his eyes under her black bangs. The only sound was their labored breathing.

"You know what", she slurred, his cock lodged firmly between her legs. "You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to...". She never finished, but closed her eyes as her body commenced shaking and erupting. Her labia wound tight around his cock, she tensed, harder and harder. Opening her mouth she rolled her lower lip underneath her upper teeth, and grunted out into his face a loud, drawn out, staccato "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkk!". She came hard, burying her face in his chest, digging her blue nails into his skin as she shattered, his cock deep inside her. "Uh, uh, uh, uh!" she jerked with each spasm, unconsciously drooling on his chest.

As she slowed she kissed him deeply and whispered in his mouth. "Hmm that was nice. Now it's your turn, big boy."

Sliding down into the foot-well she pushed open his legs, grabbing his swollen length, licking up and down. She was wet and noisy as she sucked him, kissing his cock tip and rolling her tongue under his shaft. She could feel the shiver flowing from his cupped balls up his shaft to his cock head as he shoved him deep into her throat. "Here it comes, Baby. It's all for you", he grunted before he broke.

His orgasm into her mouth was like a giant building tidal wave, the tip turning to white water, cresting and falling forward into a pounding force, plowing, planting his cum into her soft, wet mouth. She sucked his length, drawing his sperm, slick and slippery into her throat. Fogged windows, squeaking shocks and their labored groans were all that mattered. His sperm dripped out of the corner of her mouth and onto her naked breasts as the car slowly rocked to a stop.

- - - - - - -

He loved women's curves and smells and smiles and grimaces and shouts of ecstasy. He loved the game of seduction. Sometimes he was the hunter and sometimes he was the prey.

So many women he had slept with. But none he wanted to stay with. The sex was enough for him. He figured it always would be. His life was a dichotomy of being so intimate with woman, yet as far away as if he was on the moon.

- - - - - - - -

Driving back to his hotel from a client meeting he pulled into an old well-heeled restaurant to have a drink. It had been a long day of numbers and deals and negotiations and he needed something to kick it into a different gear. As he strolled in he noticed the restaurant bar was small and old school with antique shaded sconces, long dog-legged marbled bar, carved backboard with lit bottles and wooden stools. Settling on a stool he caught the bartender's eye and ordered an old fashion. Taken his first sip he slyly surveyed the room, taking stock of his new environment. There were a spattering of older couples at the bar and in dark wooden booths, a younger couple talking quietly at a table holding hands by the light of the table lamp, two guys being noisy at the bar, and an old distinguished man in the corner, alone, drinking his brandy.

Then he noticed, just down and around the crook of the bar, three attractive women talking intimately and enjoying themselves. Bookended between two younger livelier women, sat an older women, in her early 30's. He summed them up as coworkers out for an after work drink, the older woman clearly the boss. She listened to the girls, nodding periodically, speaking to them in conspiratorial confidence. She was a dark and rare beauty: tall, curvaceous, milk-fed white skin tucked into a tight black dress. Her hair was a deep mahogany red-brown and breathtaking. Thick and billowed waves high around her face and down the sides to below her shoulders, each wave reflecting the dim barroom light. A large sweep of curl obscured one of her dark mascaraed eyes. She seemed to be constantly pushing it out of her face in an erotic, futile effort; it always fell back down.

God she was beautiful. In two words she was professional and put together. The thing about her that struck him most was this: from the moment he sat down she never stopped staring at him. Her friends noticed her intense stare and giggled, whispering comments to each other. But she never changed her expression, like she was sizing him up. She'd turn and say something quietly to the girls when they spoke to her. But she always came back to staring at him, even as she sipped her martini between her long painted fingers.

Intrigued he watched as she bent down to speak quietly to her two co-workers, her expansive mane of hair concealing her face as she spoke. They giggled, finished their drinks and kissed her on the cheek before getting up and noisily weaving their way out the door.

He took another sip as he watched her across the bar. Alone now she looked at the bar, smiled slightly as if deliberating, pushed back her hair and opened her clutch bag. She fished out a compact mirror, snapping it open to review her make up, applying new lipstick and inspecting her mascara before returning it to her bag. She raised her drink up to her freshly painted red lips and finished it before placing the empty glass silently on the bar. As she stood up her seductive, penumbra figure was backlit by a lamp behind her and he drank in her hourglass figure, her womanly hips flaring from the slimmest of waists. Looking down at her figure, she smoothed her dress, pushed her cloud of hair out of her eyes (without success), and strode around the bar to where he sat. Quietly she pulled out the stool next to him, climbed up in one fluid motion, set down her clutch bag and signaled to the bartender with two fingers in the air. He nodded and soon delivered a martini and old fashioned in front of the couple.

The moment she sat down he noticed all the noise in the room--the loud guys at the bar, the bartender, the low music--everything seemed to disappear in an enveloping fog as he took her in. Only he and she existed. From the side her features were obscured by her swell of hair. The only parts of her face visible were her white carved nose and chin, and her red lips. Her tony white shoulders and fit arms rose out from her snug dress. He also noticed her arching breasts straining out of her top; the sculpted gorge descending between her rocking mounds. The sweet/musky primal bouquet of perfumed hair enveloped his senses, signaling that wild animal between his legs. He recognized the musky rose and jasmine bouquet of her Coco Noir perfume. He felt his cock start to engage and the safety click off.

Taking in the sensual, curvaceous, tightly wrapped creature next to him, he watched as she delicately placed her painted finger into the martini, swirling it around before sucking it dry. He smiled and his cock ratcheted up another notch.

"Hi" he said innocently.

She swung her nebula of hair to one side as she faced him, looking up into his steel blue eyes, pretending to be surprised.

"Oh, hi", she whispered.

"Thanks for the drink."

"Sure. I like a man that drinks old fashions", she said as she turned to her drink. "It reminds me of my father", she said in her hushed voice before taking a long sip of her martini.

"He must be a great man", he smiled turning back towards the bar, taking a sip, while looking at her face in the reflection behind the bottles.

"Oh he was", she whispered in a barely audible aside, her dimples forming around a playful grin. Another sip of her crystal martini, another waft of her perfume rising. Inhaling her this time he noticed, a hint of her body aroma. He could smell her silver cool breath, the scent under her arms, the fragrance between her breasts—and the slightest pungent bouquet between her legs.

"My name's Robert", he gamely tried again turning toward her. She turned her face at an angle so she was looking up into his face. He saw her eyes for the first time: emerald under dark long lashes. Smiling tightly under her hair she cooed, "That's nice".

Enchanted by this wonderful beast of a woman, he tried again. "So what was he like?". She twirled her martini by the stem on the bar, only her smile visible.

"Who?" she asked flicking her head quickly towards him.

"Your father. The one that liked old fashions."

"Oh him," she sighed, returning to her drink. "Smart. Handsome. Successful. Determined to have his way," she laughed.

"And did he?"

"Did he what?" she turning to look up at him under her flow of hair.

"Have his way?"

She smiled and looked back at her drink and stirred it again with her finger. "I suppose." She whispered. "But I got my way too." She said looking quickly up into his eyes with an impish smile.

"Hmmmmm" he growled quietly looking up and down her exquisite length.

"And were you a good little girl?"

Her white shoulders rolled back as she chuckled. "I used to be one."

"What happened? Did you become a bad girl?"

"Let's just say I grew up fast." She smiled tightly looking down at her drink.

"Did dad help out with that process?" he inquired turning fully toward her, fascinated by her and her story.

She shook her head and sighed as she took another sip, staring at herself in the mirror behind the bottles.

"Let's just put it this way: he wasn't particularly interested in me until he was."

He looked back at his drink and sipped it meditatively. "You don't have to tell me anything."

She turned and faced him now and looked up into his eyes her eyes welling up. "He thought I was a little girl. Then he thought I was a woman." she said bluntly. "And he showed me what being a woman was like." She turned back to her drink. "I hated him. And then I loved him. I loved him very much. I wanted him, his hands, his lips, his attentions, his cock, his orgasms. I gave them to him every day. We were very clever and secret. No one knew." She sighed as she took another sip. "We were lovers."

"I miss him."

"So you did get your way", he asked softly.

She pushed her hair out of her face, looked up at him while arching an eyebrow, her smile taut, her red lips forming a perfect, "Yes, I suppose I did."

He stared at her and started to realize she was something quite different. All he could do is watch and follow along as best he could.

"And you? What's your story, Robert?" she asked while turning and facing him, smiling.

"Me? Truth or dare, right? Ha! Well, sex became my major years ago", he laughed turning to face the bar. "When I was about 8 my older sister would play with me when I was in the bath tub, stroking my small penis, sometimes sucking me. She liked to make me cum and she taught me how to make her. I liked the way it felt. When we got older she let me inside her and we spent many nights under the sheets in our rooms exploring each other. I learned early on all I wanted to do was screw. By the time my sister went off to college I was fully accredited and fucking every girl I could find." He laughed thinking about how he got like he was and drank deeply.

"Kinda similar circumstances, don't you think?", she said looking up into his eyes her hand on his knee.

He took her in as she sat there, her dress tight around her voluptuous body and her beautiful breasts showing the most amazing hard nipples through the thin fabric. She slid her hand up and into his crotch and felt his cock growing between his legs and smiled at the size of his bulge.

She turned back to the bar and swirled her drink once more with her finger, licking it dry and taking a healthy slug from the drink, a trickle going down one side of her chin. "Oops" she whispered and wiped it off with her finger and licking it clean.