Ginger & BrunobyParis Waterman©
The tall one shook a cigarette from of a pack of Camels and went through the macho ritual of lighting it as a very good-looking girl sauntered towards them from the deeper recesses of the bar.
She was wearing a tight dress with a scoop top that seemed to be struggling to contain her breasts, which were bra-less.
Bruno was impressed with her body and as she was about to pass their table Bruno was stunned when the taller one rose up and greeted her by name.
"Ginger! Hey Ginger!" He called out.
It was evident she recognized him although Bruno thought he detected a slight grimace on her face, indicating the tall one was not a welcome sight.
"Oh, hello Charlton," she said softly, extending her hand in greeting.
Bruno had time to study her while Charlton was distracting her. He took in the shoulder-length, artfully tousled, dirty blonde hair, framing a face with high cheekbones. He took in a pair of luminous gray eyes and a perfect narrow nose. The only break in perfection was a slight over bite and pouty lower lip, but that only added to her appeal.
He decided her mouth was made for uninhibited love. His eyes wandered over the tight, short dress that accentuated her long, shapely legs, her lean waist and her high, full breasts.
Bruno was reeled back to reality when, rather than accepting her hand, Charlton reached towards her nipples and halting just short of contact, began braying in a falsetto voice.
"Come in Station TEAT, Do you read me? Come in Station TEAT."
Ginger froze, except for a crimson blush that must have started at her toes and now spread across her face. The short one was smiling as he took a swig of his beer. He'd seen this sophmoric performance before.
Charlton looked at Bruno, nodded in Ginger's direction and said, "We went to high school together," as if that explained his gross actions.
Standing abruptly and knocking over his beer in the process, Bruno flipped a french-fry at Charlton's chest and tersely replied, "I don't care where you know the lady from, you're out of line."
Moving in so close to Charlton, he could discern the many blackheads on his nose, Bruno warned him, "Knock it off or I'll make mush out of your fuckin' nose."
Shaken by the threat, Charlton backed away, lost his balance, and sat down on the corner of the table in the middle of a pool of spilled beer.
The short one found this funny enough that Bruno dismissed him as a potential second threat.
Still laughing, the short one said, "Come on Charlton, ole buddy, let's get the fuck outta here before he cleans your clock for you."
Charlton roughly pulled his arm away from his friend and glowered at Bruno. And the still bemused short one finished his beer, and put his arm around Charlton's shoulder while maneuvering him towards the exit.
"Hey, come on now, how many times I gotta tell you not to fuck wit the ladies?"
They left without another word and the rest of the bar crowd turned away resuming their interrupted conversations.
"I'm sorry I let him get that far," Bruno said, hating himself because she'd caught him staring at her breasts.
In all fairness to Bruno, as Ginger gasped first from fright and then from the chivalrous manner in which this stranger told that creep off, her lungs were taking in large amounts of air. Ginger seemed to take no offense at Bruno's staring.
Actually, Ginger was highly excited. She couldn't recall a guy standing up for her, ever. And this guy was a dreamboat, tall, dark and handsome.
Making up her mind in an instant, she took Bruno's right hand and shook it.
"Thank you. That was very nice of you." She purred, trying to recall how Marilyn Monroe would have done it.
She held his hand tightly and looking into his eyes, summoned up her most seductive smile, "Come on with me, I'm with some guy back there, but I'll tell him you're a high school classmate. He won't mind. Come on, join us."
"Okay," said Bruno, enjoying her touch and noticing that her hand was moist from perspiration.
They returned to her place in the back with his hand resting lightly on her waist. It was more crowded here than the front. Couples were leaning on each other, some were kissing, and others were casually groping one another.
'So this is where the action is,' Bruno thought, trying to absorb it all. Then he was being introduced to Ginger's companion.
"This is Jerome," Ginger said, gaily waving her hand indifferently at a very disturbed burly type. "Jerome, this is...err, David. We went to high school together."
Bruno readied himself for a confrontation. The beers consumed earlier and his successful showdown with Charlton buoyed his confidence. The hairs at the nape of his neck rose up and he curled his fingers into fists.
Jerome saw Bruno square his shoulders and position himself on the balls of his feet and realized that the guy was ready to fight.
Bruno's testosterone surged to new highs and he waited for Jerome to do something, anything that he might consider sufficient to provoke him into swinging a fist into his face.
His nostrils widened as he inhaled the musky aroma drifting up to him from Ginger. Bruno literally seethed with tension.
"Hi Jerome," he said with sarcasm, "You gonna hang around her much longer?"
His eyes challenged Jerome; his voice belligerent, sounding hoarse, whispery and dangerous.
The bartender stood nearby, behind the bar, waiting for the fight to begin and nervously reached for the small bat hidden behind the bar.
Ginger felt an electrical current surge in her loins. 'Was this guy gonna fight Jerome over her?' She thought. She couldn't recall the last time she was this excited, and then did. 'What was I then, thirteen, maybe?' She had peed her pants that time. Nervously she gnawed at her lip. "Gawd!" She said in awe of the situation.
Her nostrils flared, Ginger moved closer to Bruno, intentionally brushing his thigh with her hip. Being occupied with the perceived threat of Jerome, Bruno didn't notice.
Ginger continued her less than discreet exploration, touching his muscular arm and felt its hardness. He had her so excited she began to secrete juices from within the dark confines of her cunt. Her nipples were distended, pressing outward against the thin material of her dress, obvious to the onlookers of whom there were several.
"Err, David... Jerome was just leaving, wasn't you Jerome?" Ginger, obviously nervous asked then bit her lip.
Jerome, his eyes downcast, wanted no part of any confrontation with Bruno, rose up from his barstool. He was at least four inches taller than Bruno, but size was not the issue here. He was reeling from Ginger's rejection and had no heart for a confrontation. He thought it a waste of his time since she'd made it obvious this Bruno guy was her choice for the evening. Besides, the way he felt he'd probably get his ass kicked by this smaller, but determined hardass.
"Yeah! I'm leaving," he said, staring directly at Bruno. He turned to Ginger. "As far as I'm concerned you're a waste of fuckin' time."
He threw a three-dollar tip on the bar, spun away from them and stalked out.
Ginger moved closer to Bruno and looked up at his face. 'My Gawd,' she thought, 'he's got the sexiest eyes, ohhhh! If only I...."
"Don't think for a minute that I'm gonna buy you drinks all night," Bruno said, disappointed that he hadn't had a chance to fight. His tone conveyed some hostility and interrupted her reverie.
The bartender approached and inquired if Bruno wanted anything to drink. Taking the three dollars, Bruno tossed it to the bartender and said, "Yeah! Gimme a Heineken."
The bartender knew the money was his tip, but didn't want any trouble. He was grateful no fight had broken out.
"What's your name?" Ginger asked as she pressed a thigh against Bruno's leg.
'What the hell am I doing? I'm really coming' on to this guy. Whew! I've got the hots for him.'
"Bruno," he replied tersely, wondering why he was acting so belligerently. He was looking over her shoulder into the corner where a couple... if he could believe his eyes, appeared to be fucking.
"Hey Ginger," he said off-handedly, "check 'em out over in the corner there."
Ginger turned in that direction. The girl had her rear to the guy and her skirt was hiked up and from her gyrations he was definitely putting it to her.
"Oh yeah, that's Annabel and...and I think his name is Mike. She likes to fuck in public places."
Bruno had never watched anyone screwing before and stammered, "I never...."
"He just takes it out and she straddles him. No sense in wearing undies if ya gonna get laid. As long as she don't go ape-shit hardly anybody notices." Ginger tossed this off with a casual air.
Bruno was entranced as he followed Annabel's slow motion gyrating up and down, 'She's right,' he thought, 'if you didn't study them, you'd never think anything of it.'
"Are you married?" she asked, filing his name away. She hadn't noticed any ring, but these days, who could tell?
Startled by the question, which was totally unexpected, he told the truth. "No. Why'd you ask that?"
"Cause ya seem so..." she paused, searching for the right word, "cocky." She smiled realizing the double meaning that implied.
"Err, you're not...ya know? Well, ya seem comfortable around me...most single guys, um... they um...."
Stuck, Ginger changed direction. "That's good! That you're not married, ya know, 'cause I don't go out with married guys. There's no percentage in it."
Bruno didn't pick up on the underlying message. He was staring intently at Ginger's nipples, still prominent as they strained against her dress.
"You know," Bruno rasped, "you gotta great body Ginger."
His words washed over Ginger, and filled her pores. She heard them all right, but between taking in his good looks, remembering his chivalry, and the compliments he was paying her, he'd moved her to a nether world. A dreamy place, where it seemed as if he were laving her cunt with his tongue.
Coming back to reality, Ginger murmured in a quavering voice, "We don't have to stay here," wondering at the same time why she'd said it.
"Where do you live?" Bruno inquired.
"Brooklyn," Ginger answered before thinking. 'Oh, shit!' Ginger thought. 'Now he'll dump me. No one wants to travel that far, and what am I gonna do, introduce him to my father?'
"Okay," he replied anxious to get her out of the bar and alone. "Let's go, I'll get us a cab."
Risking a last glance over Ginger's shoulder he saw Annabel deftly tucking Mike's cock back into his pants.
Putting his arm around Ginger, he pulled her close and felt her pliant breast against him, instant erection for Bruno. Ginger noticed the bulge in his pants and licked her lips which had dried despite the lipstick adhering to them. Composing herself, she settled her arm around Bruno's waist, in the process marveling at the muscles in his back.
Holding her close, Bruno led her outside where the few straggling passerby's were wilting in the oppressive air. There was no breeze. The night air was heavy and difficult to breathe. It was the kind of hot, humid night that would cost some elderly people their lives. But Ginger and Bruno weren't feeling that kind of heat.
After scanning the street for a cab and finding none Bruno decided to kiss her for the first time. Ginger's hungry mouth opened like a baby sparrow's anticipating a worm. She was clearly the hungrier aggressor. Bruno permitted her to lead the way. He still couldn't believe his luck. Bringing her body closer to his, Bruno felt her breasts crushed up against his chest. Ginger, caving into a wave of lust, ground her pelvis against him, almost desperate in her craving to feel his hard cock pressing against her. Her tongue ravaged his mouth.
Gasping for air, nostrils flared, she broke off the kiss.
From the corner of his eye, Bruno spotted a cab approaching from the opposite direction and hailed it. The driver responded by serving across several lanes of traffic in a hasty U-turn and cruised to a stop beside them.
Opening the door, Bruno allowed Ginger to enter first. She bent her head and stepped in as Bruno admired the close up view of her ass clinging to the material of her dress. He followed her into the cab.
"Where to, Mac?" the driver asked.
Bruno glanced at Ginger looking for help.
"Brooklyn, err, Flatbush and DeKalb," she told the driver.
"You got it," the driver replied, and pulled away from the curb, happy with a long trip and the hefty tip it promised.
Bruno had his arm around Ginger, who snuggled closer. They kissed again. Bruno's hand cupped Ginger's breast and she moaned into his mouth. He flicked a turgid nipple inadvertently with a finger causing Ginger to sever the kiss and groan pleasurably.
Bruno, thinking he'd hurt her started to apologize.
"No, no," Ginger sighed with some intensity.
"It's okay. Go ahead, touch 'em. I like...I want you too."
Bruno opened the top three buttons of her dress. Ginger leaned against him, her breath ragged, her eyes closed. A breast toppled out. Bruno took the nipple in his mouth and gently sucked on it while his fingers traced the underside of her breast.
As he licked her breast he blanched momentarily from the stale taste of sweat that had accumulated on her unwashed body from her dancing the night before.
'Fuck it,' Bruno told himself, 'it ain't gonna kill me.'
He reached in and extracted the other breast, kneading them together and marveling at their pear-shaped fullness. Her nipples sprang out almost an inch from silver dollar sized aureole.
To Bruno, they were irresistible. He took turns licking and gently nipping at them with his teeth. Ginger's hand passed through his hair and continued lower where she gently caressed his neck. Bruno found himself captivated by her breasts and using both hands, crushed them together before allowing his face to fall between them.
Nuzzling them, he licked upwards through the valley and to her throat. He sucked on her throat long and hard enough to leave a hickey.
Ginger lay passive, luxuriating in the attention her breasts were receiving.
He returned to her breasts, kissing and licking around one while rolling the nipple on the other between his fingers. He gloried in their fullness. 'Real tits,' he told himself. 'None of that artificial silicone shit.' Then he registered an unpleasant fact about Ginger. She wasn't very clean. He had already tasted her sweat and now his nostrils absorbed her body odor. She wore no perfume or cologne. Bruno shrugged it off.
'She's got a great body and she wants to fuck. Nobody's perfect.' He continued exploring her body.
Ginger's hand was also busy, gliding along, opening shirt buttons, bearing his hairy chest; moving down across his firm stomach to his belt only to withdraw, then to reconnoitered along his leg until she found his groin. There she paused. Then, like an animal having sniffed the air for potential predators and satisfied herself no danger lurked close at hand she resumed moving her fingers again, searching for his cock, locating it, gripped it firmly and squeezed.
She began to knead it, delighting in its great size. Ginger started to unzip Bruno's fly, but realizing they were approaching Brooklyn, hesitated and instead contented herself with fondling him as she considered where to take him once they reached DeKalb.
"Ummm mmm." groaned Bruno in pleasure, as his fingers worked feverously to open the remaining buttons of the dress in the darkness of the cab as it sped towards Brooklyn.
Suddenly the bright lights of the Williamsburg Bridge flickered into the cab as they crossed the river, affording Bruno and the driver, their first clear view of Ginger's fine, lithe body.
Bruno glanced toward the front of the cab and caught the driver's eyes on them in the rear-view mirror. "Watch the road, Buddy," he grunted, "I'll handle the backseat, you got the front."
Ginger made no attempt to cover herself from the drivers prying eyes.
"Yeah, right," morosely replied the driver, who continued sneaking glimpses of the activities on the back seat as the cab wove its way through the light traffic and entered Brooklyn.
Bruno's hand traveled up under her dress. "Lift up." He commanded.
Ginger complied and the thin dress was raised to her waist. The cab swerved, as the driver and Bruno both saw Ginger wore no panties. Regaining control, the cabby tore his eyes from the rear view mirror, swearing to himself under his breath.
'Christ,' the cabbie thought, 'he's gonna fuck her in my cab,' He gripped the steering wheel tightly, hardly taking his eyes from the rear-view mirror. 'Maybe I'll get some too.' And with that gratifying thought in mind, concentrated on his driving again.
As Bruno's fingers traced their way toward Ginger's curly pubic hair, she gently restrained him.
"No, don't do that, not there. I've...I've got the rag on."
To support this statement she reached down and found the cord from the Tampax inserted inside her and placed it in Bruno's hand.
"See?" she murmured shyly.
"I don't care," he said, although he was bitterly disappointed in being denied access to those sweet rose-petal lips. Then recovering his sensibilities, he countered, "I'll only touch it on the outside, how's that?"
And not waiting for her approval, he began drawing his fingers tenderly along the outer folds of her silky-sheened labia.
"No, don't," she whimpered, incredibly aroused. "You'll make a mess. I'm not ready for that."
"No. No I won't," Bruno argued, quietly pleading his case. "I'm just gonna touch ya here, see?" Shifting his attack slightly to her thighs and then moving back in to trace across her labia majora once again.
Ginger closed her thighs, trapping his hand. She cursed herself. 'I'm a stupid shit, for going out looking for it with the rag on.'
She pondered his statement. He's lying, she thought, however, her body began to betray her, but...oh, Gawd, lookit him.
And she succumbed to her desire, gently squeezing his swollen cock again. Bruno picked that moment to reach out with his free hand and touch her face. Ginger uttered a subdued sigh, savoring the gentleness of his caress and revealed her increasing desire to him as she relaxed the pressure of her thighs on his hand. Bruno wasted no time and brushed his finger across her clit, which he found slippery as mucus. Ginger could not contain her ecstasy and cried out.
"Oh, yeahhh! Yeah, do that!
"Oh, Gawd... Yeah! Yeah!" And raised her head to kiss and suck on his lips; to suck his tongue tenderly back into her mouth; savoring the taste of beer and cigarettes she found there.
Her fingernails traced the length of his cock. Lustfully she thought, 'My Gawd, it goes on and on, he's hung like a horse.'
Bruno's response to her kiss was more aggressive than earlier and their tongues explored the nooks and crannies of each other's mouth. Satisfied at having aroused her, Bruno slowed his attack on her cunt. He abandoned the idea of forcing his finger into her cunt; instead he applied pressure to her mound with the palm of his hand and every so often, permitted a finger or his thumb to stroke her clit as they continued the kiss.
Bruno summed the situation up in his mind. 'She needs a fuckin' bath, this broad. She gotta fantastic built, but I gotta draw the line somewhere. Christ, I licked her ear and got a tongue full of wax. I sucked her tit and lapped sour sweat. Wonder when's the last time she washed?'
He tickled her clit, causing Ginger to moan with craving. She broke the soul kiss to ethereally cry out, "YESSS!"
"Oh, Christ! Ohhhh that feels so good!"
His confidence soared. He promised himself he would make her lick the sweat off his balls later. Bruno was still talking to himself, 'And her fuckin breath, it's foul. She's got bad breath and God knows what the fuck she eats.'