I met her again. I can't believe it, I there were a zillion things against it, but somehow I saw her again two nights ago, on Saturday.
Her name's Isabel. I met her for the first time a week ago when I saw her dancing at the Abbey with some other girl.
That first meeting with Isabel didn't go well, and I am not entirely sure why not. I am a good looking guy, fit, educated, and with no small skill when it comes to dealing with women. I won't say that I could have any woman I wanted, but I do say that if I want a woman, a good looking one, it usually won't take a lot of effort to find one, meet her, and build something that can lead wherever I wish (including bed).
How on earth Isabel dismantled and disabled all my social skills through her very presence, her aura, I can't explain. She simply did. It was a combination of her looks, her style, her dominant personality, and how those things came together to touch an aspect of my soul that had never been revealed before.
After that first encounter a week ago I thought about her a lot. The meeting was by chance, we had not exchanged numbers and I had no way of contacting her. There was no reason I would see her again, except for her vague indication she might be at the club again Saturday. As the days went on during the week I half convinced myself I would not go to the club, there was no reason to pursue Isabel, and there were better women out there that were more accessible.
In fact, there is a gorgeous young admin assistant that sat in the back of my work area that had literally bumped into me more than once. Ever since that first "contact" I've wanted to see if we could bump hips while naked and she was laying on her back underneath me.
Still, it wasn't the young secretary that I thought of each night when I lay in bed stroking myself this last week. It's been Isabel, the tall, hard woman with a perfect muscular body and domineering attitude. Just thinking of her made me hard, and I spurted semen on myself more than once a night thinking of her long legs wrapping around me, her firm upright breasts pressed against me, her tongue penetrating my mouth. God, I want that so bad. My cock is getting hard again, right now.
Jamie wasn't around Saturday so I pretty much decided not to go to the club. In fact, I set up a date with Val, the cute girl that kept bumping into me. The way things were going she was very probably going to be underneath me with her hands against my bedroom wall and legs pointing to the ceiling by midnight. But for some reason, about 10pm, I decided to take her dancing. Where? The club, of course. In my brain I told myself it was just to have fun, and if Isabel was there I could show off Val on my arm, maybe even do a little hip grinding on the dance floor right in front of her.
I know. I wasn't thinking clearly, at all. I am still not thinking clearly. My mind is in a fog whenever I think about Isabel. I'm not making good decisions.
We arrived at the club and found a table. I decided to get Val drunk (I didn't need to, things were heading toward a late night fuck anyway), and maybe myself too. We were on the second round when I saw her.
She was in a corner, standing with three other people, two guys and one girl. The girl was different from the one the week before. I didn't recognize the guys. I watched them. One of the guys was buying drinks and kept rubbing against her. I wondered if it was a boyfriend and that made me jealous. Flushed jealous. Weird, I had talked to her once for three minutes and I was jealous of her. But that guy was a slime ball with greasy hair and crappy clothes. She deserved better.
Right about this point Val slugged me in the arm. I had been ignoring her for at least 15 minutes while I stared at Isabel. Apparently she had tried to yell something at me over the music, and it hadn't worked. She was pissed off. I tried to apologize, but it was too late. She looked pretty when angry. Unfortunately, she also got up and left, saying something about getting an Uber ride home.
I guessed it was fate. With Isabel's boyfriend gone and Val gone home in a huff, I had nothing to lose. Walking over to Isabel, I spoke to her.
"Hi. Do you remember me? I'm Marc. We've met before." Better than the debacle last week, though still lame.
She looked at me with her little smirk. The smile got bigger, and she turned to face me. A thrill ran through my body.
"Yeah, I remember you. The pathetic one. Are you still pathetic?"
"Yep. When it comes to you, I am pathetic. Can't get you out of my mind. What say you and I get out of here? Someplace where we can actually talk without screaming?" At least some basic social skills were returning, though I was hoping she wasn't looking at my crotch, which had a bulge the size of Long Island.
Isabel laughed, not kindly either, and shook her head. "No, I don't think so. You aren't my type. I like strong men."
"Hey, you don't know if I am your type yet! Get to know me. I bet I could impress you. I will take you someplace nice, someplace expensive."
As she laughed again her hand lashed out lightning fast, hitting my face with a slap that sent me reeling. It happened so fast it felt like the left side of my face had exploded, and I staggered, almost falling on my ass. I had never realized a slap could hurt that much.
"Don't you ever, ever think you can buy me, asshole!" She said it without hostility, in an almost bored manner, as if I wasn't worth her time. I began to realize I probably wasn't worth her time. My attitude was being adjusted with every encounter. She was unlike any woman I had ever met.
"OK, ok... owww... look, I didn't mean to offend you!" I turned away, rubbing my burning cheek with one hand. My other cheek was flushed with embarrassment; the other man and woman with Isabel had been looking on in amusement during this whole scene.
I was heading to the door, wondering if I might find Val hanging around and be able to apologize and maybe still have a bed mate for the evening. Halfway out the door I realized I didn't want Val. I wanted Isabel and I was about to make another mistake by giving up. I turned and headed back.
"Look, I really respect you and your willingness to call me out," I said when I got back to where she was standing. The guy who had gone to the bar showed no sign of returning. I wondered if maybe she had told him to fuck off or something, which seemed like it was in character for her.
"But, look. I can't just walk away from a woman I think may be the most impressive girl I have ever met. Please, just let me have your phone number, OK?" I wasn't begging. I wasn't. Honestly. Though I would have had she asked. Thinking about it now, I might actually have gotten on my knees if she had demanded it.
Isabel looked at me with a mix of concern and amazement. "Wow, babe, you got it bad. Look..."
She scribbled something on a napkin.
"You want to see me again, call me, but only if you are willing to do things my way. I don't really want to see you, but if you are serious we shall see if you got something. A big dick, maybe, or maybe some muscles to help me move some furniture."
She handed me the napkin. Her number was on it. I almost creamed my pants. Yeah, I had it bad.
"OK, Isabel. Whatever you want is OK with me. I will give you a call."
Isabel turned back to the petite blond girl who looked at me with a sort of sympathy as Isabel wrapped one arm around her and pulled her in for a kiss, rocking her hips and body in time to the music, dancing with the short babe as their tongues explored each other's throats.
I had been dismissed.
I left the club, went straight home (no Val), undressed completely and masturbated with the image of Isabel in my mind. I came three times, with almost no delay between and no cleanup of cum. I dreamed about Isabel at the club.
Yesterday I was going crazy, and tried calling her. No answer. I didn't leave a message. The thought of her made me horny and pathetic, and I didn't like it. Finally I got in the car and drove over to Val's apartment, knocked on her door. She answered, looking surprised and held the door partway open as if to invite me in, but not entirely sure about it.
"Val. I am really sorry about last night. I have been thinking about nothing but you, the whole night."
"Yeah, Marc, well... you made me feel pretty crappy."
"I'm sorry babe. Like I say, you have taken over my mind, I... want you so badly..."
With that I leaned over to kiss her, pushing her against the wall. She resisted, pushing me back with her hands, but I pushed harder and she flattened against the wall underneath me. She kept struggling but not hard enough to stop me, and her mouth was open-- a sure sign. My tongue was inside her, and hers was playing with mine at the same time she was pushing me away.
I grabbed her by her hair, pulled her away from the wall and forced her through the bedroom door. She struggled, but only a little. Mostly she just kissed back until she fell backward onto the bed and I fell on top. She mumbled protests as her hands undid my belt, unzipped me and reached in for my cock. I slid my hands under her top and my hands felt her naked breasts for the first time.
We struggled with each other's clothes for a bit, a few buttons popped off from my shirt, but we finally were naked.
Val has a perfect body. I hadn't realized how perfect. Soft, white, smooth. Brown eyes that looked into mine as my cock pressed against the outer flesh of her pussy, lean legs that spread and rose up, changing the angle of her hips to make it easier for me to enter.
Fucking Val yesterday was great. We did it twice, once in her bed, once in her shower. In the bed I was on top of her, missionary position. She kissed me and wrapped her arms around me while I pounded into her. I like that. In the shower we did it doggie style. I like that too because I get to grab her breasts.
All the time I fucked this perfect young girl I could not get Isabel out of my mind. Val was a perfect babe, but Isabel was what I wanted.
I deposited my sperm in Val, twice. We slept together last night, and I got up early to head home and change before work. I saw her at work and we exchanged glances, sort of smiling. She wants me again, I can tell. Unfortunately, I want Isabel.
So here I am. It's 8pm. I am sitting in front of the phone. I could call Val, and probably should. But the number I have on the table is Isabel's. Val's the smarter choice. She is pretty, sexy, fantastic in bed, and nice. She wants me. Isabel may not even remember who I am.
OK, here goes.