Pub Crawl - Dolly Style
This happened some years ago when I was in my early-20's, off-season for track, back when I was running internationally competitive meets. I was back home in South Florida and a group of my friends and I decided to do a "Pub Crawl" through a really 'hot' neighborhood full of clubs and bars that attracted good music and sexy people. We didn't know if we'd find people to hook up with, or if we'd end up people watching making wise-cracks. It was just something to do. There were six of us, four men, two women. I've always had a lot of male friends, I wonder why that is?
One of the guys who went on the pub crawl was Chris, whose last name I could never remember. One of those same circle of friends types, saw him often, and he was nice enough but was never my focus and I'd never had any one on one time. I know, I still should have known his last name. I had known him for about 5 years at this point, so we were pretty friendly. Looking back, maybe I felt guilty that I couldn't think of his last name. I also guess I'd never noticed how much his eyes never seemed to leave me. But it wasn't creepy, I simply finally detected that one of the group of friends had a crush on me. He was pretty decent looking. But I hadn't gone out looking for sex, and definitely hadn't been looking for sex with Chris Whatshisname.
I picked up from listening to him more closely in the first pub that he'd had a girlfriend for about a year, up until a month ago, but that she was very much a girly-girl, not into sports or beer or bars type girl. Chris was definitely in his element in a pub crawl, and was closer with the guys in the group from doing fantasy football. Yeah, he and the girlfriend were not a good match. I could also tell from the way he slouched or stood behind objects that he seemed to feel insecure about his appearance. "Hey, Chris the cutie, get over here and keep me company at the bar, will ya?" I shouted to him. Huge smile and he didn't have to be asked twice. Even if I wasn't going to fuck him, I could make him feel better.
So by the third bar he and I were tipsy soul mates, snarky comments on everyone we saw, making up back stories and all, having a blast and I'd even tried a blueberry flavored beer from Sweetwater Brewing Company. I'm not much for beer, but it was not the worst thing a man had put into my mouth and expected me to swallow. (Did you like that one? Well, I thought it was clever. So did Chris when said to him in response to his question of how did I like it.) By the fourth bar, the humidity had me nicely buzzed and my pussy craving company. The bar was packed, no place to sit, and we were squashed together. An arm around his waist made me steadier on my feet and helped conserve space to stand in and not get crushed. So there we were, doing the touchy flirtatious thing, but nothing happened right away. Other guys, usually bigger than Chris were still hitting on me, and I was dressed in tight shorts, tight tank with no bra, and it was humid. Fire engine red mani/pedi, I looked like I was in search of cock. I guess I was. Maybe I always am!
We made our way to the outdoor patio bar and it was even more humid, and I was grateful for the times that evening that he had to save me from the Player hitting on me, to keep me from making a drunken mistake with a guy. By about 1:30 a.m., we liked and trusted each other, and I was clasping fingers with him, holding his hand. "You'll be my boyfriend, tonight, Chris, that should keep me safe."
"Anything you say, Dolly."
And then I kissed him on the cheek. His hand on the small of my back felt good, and he held me close. Our eyes met after what I'd intended as a peck and nothing more (or had I intended more? I was buzzed, after all).
Hey just kept looking at me.
"What? Is there something wrong, Chris?"
No, just the opposite. I've never stood so close to you (true) or gotten to be this friendly with you (also true) or noticed how blue your eyes are, or how great your smile is (true again on both counts and much appreciated. Loved that he mentioned my eyes and smile, not my tits or ass like all the guys he'd helped chase away earlier that night.) Dolly, you look amazing!" he said.
"Really? Thanks! I feel like a sweaty mess, but if you say so......" I responded.
At the time, consciously I wanted to play it cool, as he was my friend, and I was glad he'd become a better friend. The rest of our posse, I noticed, was giving us some space for one on one time. My God, though, he was hitting all of my buttons. And I was already getting playful and flirtatious and we hadn't even finished the tour of happening bars yet.
The music started back up and it was decent enough to dance to. What's that song lyric, "love the one you're with"? We danced. My hands were all over him, and his hands didn't maul me, but they sure as hell turned me on, holding my hips, my waste, the small of my back, my shoulders, and just missing my ass and my tits.
I was horny as hell, and his cock was hard and pressing in to me. My heart was racing. We were so totally aroused. I looked up at his face, and he was staring into my eyes.
"Let's get out of here," I said. He nodded, and I took his hand, turned and started to try to make my way to the door. I shouted to our friends "we're out of here" without further explanation, and felt a bit silly to hear them shout back, "About damn time, get a fucking room."
Darn alcohol. I generally don't screw with a buzz, which keeps me from making a spectacle of myself. But that youthful night I was drinking, and apparently I was the last one to know for sure that Chris was going to fuck me. Everyone else with eyesight had known since a couple bars earlier.
We jumped in a cab and I gave the address for the dockslip where daddy's yacht was. Hey, I had access codes and a key. We made out like longtime boyfriend and girlfriend in the back of the cab. I noticed the meter several blocks from the yacht and realized it was more money than I had. No idea what Chris had. Didn't want to end the night in Dade County lockup, so I yelled for the cabbie to stop to let us out because I was not going to be able to pay more.
Chris followed up, "it’s okay, we're good, keep going." We kissed, and I let him suck on my tongue and feel me up through my top. I was out of college, had my masters, and this was total teenage date night of kissing and getting felt up. I suppose that was the charm of it.
We got the pier, and his dick was completely bulging, and he tossed a few twenties at the cabbie that more than covered the ride. I led him through the gate, down to the dock slip, and on to the ship daddy was using for family and personal friends at that time. I got him into the closest suite that I knew had a queen sized bed and started stripping him. He returned the favor. We were in heat, plain and simple. I looked down, smiled and looked up into his eyes before returning my lusty, greedy stare to his manhood and took his tool into both of my hands. "Oh my God," I told him, "Your cock is so ready," my eyes still locked onto his sex flesh.
Meanwhile he met my eyes and said, "Dolly, your body, all of you, here with me, you're so beautiful."
That was it, something inside me snapped, no more foreplay. I spun around, bent over the arm of a loveseat (how appropriate, I think now, looking back, though at the time it was not a loveseat to me, but merely a piece of furniture that was the right height to hang on to while getting fucked hard from behind) and told him that there were condoms in the medicine cabinet in the head attached to the suite. For you landlubbers, a "head" is a bathroom, or more specifically the toilet room, on a ship). He was back in an instant and "suited up" for sex in just a couple seconds. I was sooooo wet.
I reached back and spread my ass cheeks to expose my bare pussy to my friend for the first time. I let my right hand go and took hold of his approaching cock and helped line him up. "I really need you to fuck me good, Chris, you've got me so fucking horny." Okay, I was talking like a dirty slut. Youth is my only excuse. I still fuck like a dirty slut, I just try to talk sexy and seductively and more elegantly when giving myself to a man for pleasure nowadays.
Chris pressed his condom-clad dick's head against me, and stopped just enough for me to feel the pressure on my slick pussy lips. "Yes, do it, do me, fuck me..." He didn't need to be asked again, and he plunged it, sinking all the way in. We both let out a loud moan. Finally together.
He grabbed my hips and started to slowly slide in and out. It didn't take long before he was pumping me hard. My ass slammed back as I pushed back to meet his thrusts. He kept giving it to me, good, with hunger, a longing, a man who'd probably jacked off to me dozens of times. Which he later confessed might have been more than just dozens, and imagined he was fucking me with the last girlfriend, too, he also told me. "But you're so much sexier and sex with you is ten times as amazing for real, Dolly."
A girl could get to like such treatment. But before the pillow talk, there we were, fucking, and he gasped as he thrust inside me. By that point my head was down, we were breathing heavily, trying to keep the noise to ourselves, though I was fairly sure the boat in the next slip was unoccupied and they wouldn't hear my cries of pleasure. He reached around and grabbed one of my tits. My hard nipple raised against his fingers. "Jesus, Dolly, so good..."
It felt like we were down there forever, but honestly it couldn't have been for more than 10 minutes. He was pumping like a madman, I could feel my own orgasm coming, and wondered if we might actually get there at the same time. "Oh fuck, Dolly," was the only thing he said. My orgasm spilled and squirted, and to my amazement Chris pulled out, quickly tore the condom off and shot rope after rope of cum onto the small of my back and ass. I was quaking, and he was grunting and growling.
We were panting, spent. We were both sweating but I noticed it actually wasn't overly hot on the ship, which was great I thought for afterglow cuddling to try to figure out what, if anything, this hook up might mean on a going forward basis. I turned around, reached behind me to scoop his goop with my fingers, and sucked them clean. We smiled, kissed, and laughed.
"Holy shit, that was the hottest thing I've ever done," he said. We kissed again and giggled.
"Your cock is amazing!" I told him, and then bit his ear in a moment of spontaneous intimate play. Wow. We straightened each other's hair, and I led him into the bed, telling him we would spend the night.
We dozed off but then woke up at the first hint of light through the porthole, and fucked like wild again. Both of us were a bit hungover though, that next morning, so after the early morning light fuck, nothing else happened.
It was nearly noon, after we fell back asleep again after the wake up fuck, when he left first. I kissed him, told him where to catch the nearest bus, and then sighed and exhaled in relief over the fact that he'd told me, "it’s cool, whatever you want this to be, or not to be, you made my dream come true last night, Dolly. I'll take as much of you as you feel you can give me, but if this turns out to be a one-off, I still want to be your friend and no one needs to know."
He hadn't remembered the shouting last night. "They all know, Chris, but thank you for saying that. You're terrific, I'm completely happy we got together, and lets figure it out as we go. We don't need to make decisions right this second." He shrugged, sensing that he wasn't suddenly my boyfriend. And he wasn't. But he had been a pretty damn good lay. "I've got to straighten up this yacht before I head home, Chris, but before you head out let me give you this," and I kissed him, passionately, sweetly, my tongue touring his mouth, my nude body pressed to his clothed body. His hands feeling my toned firm torso and ass, the sides of my tits, whatever he could reach. "And last night was way too good for it to be just once, stud. Don't worry."
So he was off, and I had a new fuck buddy, and loved the feeling I got when he said I'd made his dreams come true. Vowed to find out his last name. A vow I later failed to make happen, even though we did get together for a couple more hot hook ups when we were either both between relationships or just plain horny and in the same place and figured our BF or GF wouldn't find out.
Anyway, after Chris left, I threw on my sweaty smoky clothes from the night before, swapped out the sheets, and on my way to the laundry I noticed a note in the galley. Had Chris doubled back and left me some sweet words? It was written on ship's stationary, though, not the notepad that was out on the counter.
"Dolly, when I told you that this year your mother and I just wanted our anniversary to be low key and we were just having dinner alone, I didn't realize I needed to clear it with you that she and I were going to snuggle in for a romantic night on the yacht after dinner. Since we were woken up in the middle of the night and then again at the crack of dawn, we're headed home to get some rest. Sounds like you might need to catch up on your rest too. Let's not mention this near meeting again, shall we? Don't worry about remaking the bed, I'll have the crew come in to neaten up tomorrow, since we don't know when you might finally get your day started today. Love you girl, Mom and Dad."
Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure!