Like a clueless doe wandering into a field of hungry lioness, the momentary pause-in-time duly portrayed the temptation of a young, fresh piece meat. The way she turned heads, could only be described by how (quickly) iron-fillings react to a magnet in its midst.
Translation: Is anybody sitting here?
Once I shook my head in response, she sat herself comfortably down in the oversized, black t-shirt that ends suggestively below her hips, as though daring people (or rather just, guys) to imagine if she wore anything under.
Not only was I impressed by how nonchalant she, a girl who looked in her 20s, was about sitting in the rowdy, smokey, and noisy smoking-corner of a coffee shop, the two bottles of beer she ordered actually dissed some of the ‘onlookers’.
Translation: Do you want some?
‘No thanks. I can’t hold my liquor well.’
Despite my rejection, she pushed her mug over and I decided to take a sip out of courtesy. There were, after all, still eyes on us, especially at the long, brown-highlighted hair, whose figure is very straightforwardly – slim. As soon as I tipped the cup over my lips, I caught her grinning confidently, like she had accomplished something.
Thankfully, that was all the alcohol I drank and we just sat opposite each other, deeply engrossed in our mobile phone screens over our respective poison (kopi-peng for me).
At 11pm sharp, the shutters were lowered halfway and she abruptly jolted upright, shocking me in the process.
Translation: Aunty, are you closing?
Translation: Not so early. Still a while more to go.
Very casually, like we were acquainted, she asked me to follow her to the toilet before they close. As it was also time for me to leave, it wasn’t any ‘less inconvenient’ to stand guard outside the washroom. Into the ladies she went, and came out minutes later, holding a pair of shorts.
Translation: Shall we go?
Translation: Haha. To my place?
Translation: You wish. Follow me.
Since I didn’t live far, I decided to follow her as far as we would go on foot. After walking through a carpark to the next, we stopped in front of a family car which she unlocked.
Translation: Do you want to sit a while? At least till I sober up.
Eyeing the comfort of air-conditioning and the silence unlike anywhere else, I agreed and hopped into her car, taking a seat next to her in the back. While she put on some soft, classical music, I lowered my backrest and laid in bliss, savouring the coldness blowing over my skin.
Out of nowhere, she laid her head on my lap and curled herself up, bringing one of my hand to her shoulder.
My silly smile went unnoticed as she cosied up, accidentally exposing her bare bottom to me. We stayed in that position for just a few minutes before she rotated herself, to lie on her back. This time, her smoothly shaved groin was completely visible and I couldn’t find anywhere appropriate to continue patting.
Again, she held my hand and brushed it across her face, down her neck, thereafter ‘passing me’ to her other hand that stuck out of her (shirt) collar. I was immediately led to her bra, which I had construct mentally from feeling its thin, single layer, lace-design. In conclusion, it was really just a lace bralet she wore in place of a bra.
Her breasts size, one that I could cup within the entirety of my palm, closely resembled one of my exes. The next few minutes were spent in silence as I fondled her chest till her nipples were standing. She then tilted her chin (up) and with a pair of pleading eyes, whispered, ‘go lower’.
I obeyed and executed, right down to the afore-mentioned groin that was baby-smooth. And between those firm thighs, laid a moist, warm opening lined with sensitive, soft, raw flesh. The ‘little’ experience I had made it easy to locate her clit, that further widened her legs as I massaged gently.
(As she moaned) ‘You’re the first to be so.. ahhh.. gentle with me.. not even my boy.. boy.. haaa.. is.. don’t stop.. keep going.. you’re going to make me.. make me.. ahhh!’
Exasperated sighs filled up the car as she shivered to the ultimate pleasure, releasing a tiny gush of love from her pussy. The sudden tiredness that overwhelmed her put us both in a calm mood, ideal for digesting the events leading up to that point in time.
(She whispered wearily) ‘hey.. you want me to.. help you?’
‘Nope. It’s ok. I’m fine with this.’
And by ‘this’, I was referring to the aimless massage I was doing to her nipples. Without any acknowledgement, she sat upright and went on her knees, in reverse-doggystyle. She backed a few inches up to me, lowered her pussy over my dick, and simply laid her chest onto the seat.
I didn’t have to wonder ‘who’ would be doing the work once she started jerking her body back and forth, using the door on her side as support. In a way, although I was doing ‘zero’ work, she was doing the minimal.
In such a lazy and unique position, I was able to experience a level of stimulation unlike others, made possible by the upward-pointing, topside-focused (non)abrasive brushing of the downward-side of her vagina.
Soon, we could no longer ignore how loud we were, although it wasn’t permanent. When she had another orgasm, her pussy remained at a tightness that kept me on edge, shifting my dependency from ‘time’, to ‘sensation’.
With her vagina encapsulating me snuggly, I rocked my body along the seat and resumed the sex, pushing me closer and closer to the end that wasn’t overly-aggressive.
‘I’m gonna cum!’
She then swiftly grabbed my cock and pulled it away from her pussy, before turning around to keep stroking me. At that moment my upper-body rose from the slouching position, she aimed my cock upwards and squeezed a little harder, triggering an eruption of hot cum that spewed over her hand and down my balls.
Even her other hand, couldn’t contain the huge load that I blew into the air.
Translation: Help me get tissues! At the back!
I reached for the box of tissue at the rear window, soaking up the slimy mess before any of it went into the seat. After a frantic clean up, the both of us couldn’t stop smiling at the result of our unexpected encounter.
That night, we parted ways without exchanging any contacts, but it didn’t require much ‘luck’ for us to bump into each other again, at the same coffee shop. Seated at different tables, my reluctance to assume a ‘second encounter’ was proven wrong when she invited me to her car, where we fucked even harder than before.
Thank god for the quality suspension. All that’s left is whether I would see her a third time.