Tammy and Dan

A fantasy I wrote the other day, first time I’ve really felt like I “had” to write, in a while. Don’t read if you don’t like erotica though, it’s one of those things.

Tammy and Dan
I was sitting at a table with my back to the wall, so I could see the bar in front of me, and the door as well, when I saw the tall redhead walk in. Her fair skin was flushed as if she’d just been exercising, or was angry; the dusting of freckles stood out clearly, which made her look even more lively than her walk, which was in long strides with a pleasant spring to the steps. She went directly to the deserted bar and called out to the woman serving, “I need a drink, let me have a Corona with lime, please.”

Pulling the bottle and opening it with a deft twist of her wrist, sliding the lime into the neck and handing it to her, the bartender asked politely, “Bad day? Or celebrating?”

“Bad day, just hectic and people in my face, all day long. How much?”

I spoke up then, across the quiet floor, and said “Let me get it. I’ve had one of those days, too, and would like to make yours a bit better.” I stood and handed Lisa, the bartender, a twenty; “Keep a buck for yourself, okay?”

“I can’t let you do that,” the woman protested, “You don’t even know me.”

“I’m Dan,” I said, “And you’re not having a great day, what else do I need to know?”

“Well… thanks, Dan, I appreciate that. I’m Tammy, and it’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, and I took it gently, feeling her soft cool skin in my hand, shaking it politely. I didn’t want to let go, but I managed to do so, but I sure was hoping to get to know her better.

“You’re welcome, very much so. Want to talk about it? I was sitting over there,” I said, indicating the table.

She hesitated for a moment, then with a why not shrug, said “Sure, I’d like that.”

We sat, and she started telling me about her day; apparently, people had been bugging her for silly little things that they should have been able to handle on their own, all day, off and on; and since she managed a sizable group of people, it got frustrating when she needed to deal with the little things, and wasn’t able to focus on the bigger tasks that she really enjoyed.

We spent the next few minutes talking about our jobs, finding that we had similar experiences- some days were great, some awful, and most were just okay; we moved on pretty quickly though, to more interesting topics. Things like family, ages (she’s about four years younger than I am), and hobbies (We both adore photography) were much more fun to talk about than work. After a couple of hours we were laughing and carrying on as if we’d known one another for years, instead of minutes.

When I asked her if she wanted to get something to eat, I wasn’t quite sure if she’d agree or not- but she did, immediately, with the only stipulation being that since I’d been buying the drinks, she got to buy me dinner.

“You have to let me, you’ve spent way to much on drinks already,” she told me.

“No, don’t be silly, I’m having fun, it’s the least I can do for you brightening up my day,” I answered.

“No way. You’ve bought me at least four beers, and that’s too many.”

“Well, what if I have ulterior motives?” I couldn’t believe I’d asked that; I thought for sure she’d get offended and leave, but she had had just enough to drink, or something, because all she did was grin an impish, teasing grin.

“Well, what if I happen to like a motivated guy?” She asked, and then blushed beet red- her fair skin showed that off, quite nicely.

“Umm, maybe we should eat,” I said, “Or we’ll get even goofier than we are, on empty stomachs.”

We laughed and chattered all through dinner, cracking ourselves up with inanities that seemed the height of humor in our giddy, semi-buzzed state, until it was time to get going home. Reluctantly, as if unwilling to part, we walked slowly out, wandering down the street together, toward her car. When she stumbled a bit on the curb, I reached out and steadied her with my hand on her arm, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for her to take my arm and hold it as we walked; soon enough, we were hand in hand, feeling an odd but comforting sensation of being much much closer than we should be.

“Listen, Tammy,” I started, as she spoke too:

“Hey, Dan,”

Laughing, “you go first,” “No, you”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, “I like you, and don’t want to say goodnight.”

She was flushed again, turning her head slightly away and down, not meeting my eyes as we paused on the sidewalk. I looked at her, and said softly, “Tammy. I like you too, and agree with you. What are we going to do about that?”

She looked into my eyes again, “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Tammy, I think I’d like to see you home- or, have you come over for coffee, whichever you’d like.” I blushed myself at that, sure she’d take offense, that she’d not really thought about what she was saying, and leave me standing there. I was very startled, but pleased, when she squeezed my hand and said,

“Let’s go. I’m only a five minute walk from here.”

She turned, and without a word we started walking as she indicated, as she again took my arm and we pulled together, walking closer still. I found her walk marvelous, her long legs swinging freely, her casual blouse and skirt showing off her lovely figure.

When we arrived at her place, she had me sit on the sofa, and offered to make coffee. While it brewed, we simply sat, and enjoyed being still and quiet for a few moments. When it was ready, we toasted one another with our mugs: “Here’s to new, instant friends,” she said and took a sip. I watched her lips on the rim of the mug, and wanted so badly to taste them, that as she set her cup aside I gave in to temptation, and leaned in slowly.

Our lips met, and she didn’t pull away, but instead leaned into my mouth, pressing gently against my lips with her own. We kissed softly, tasting one another gently. I could feel her soft exhalations on my cheek, as our kiss deepened and slowly gained in intensity and warmth.

When her mouth parted slightly, I gently slipped my tongue to hers, tasting the beer she’d drunk, the more recent taste of coffee, but mostly tasting her sweet soft mouth. I carefully set my cup aside as well, and took her hand in mine as I leaned back and looked into her eyes.

“Tammy, I want you,” I said simply, “But don’t want you to think I’m just taking advantage of you, or anything.”

“Dan,” she said softly, “It’s not, technically, taking advantage if I just let you.”

“Ohhh, lord,” I sighed, and leaned in again, more insistently this time, finding her eager mouth meeting my passion equally. We kissed and held one another for a long time, holding each other closer and closer; gently but firmly, I started to move my hand along her arm, around and up and down her back and side, finding her toned and firm.

“You work out,” I whispered at one point, stroking her and caressing her gently.

“Yes, a few times a week with a personal trainer,” she answered, “I have to exercise or I feel icky.”

“You feel anything but icky to me,” I grinned, and she laughed delightedly saying:

“Good, I’m glad, I don’t want you to think I’m icky.”

We stopped speaking then, as I started to kiss her once more, but this time moving my lips along her jaw, around her neck and under her ears; down her neck, tracing the collar of her blouse, and up the other side of her chest. I moved one hand to the buttons of her blouse and opened the highest one that was fastened, moving the material aside to kiss and give little lip nibbles along the newly exposed skin.

“I’m sure you’ve heard it before,” I told her, “But I love to connect the dots with my tongue- hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind,” she breathed, as she moved her own hands lower, stroking my chest through my shirt, “It feels nice. You have a nice kiss.”

I lowered my head again, and this time moved more quickly, teasing and tracing patterns between the lovely freckles that sprinkled the tops of her breasts and chest, reaching and unbuttoning the rest of her blouse, slipping it aside to reveal the lacy bra she wore.

Impatiently now, she tugged my shirt from my pants, pushing me back as she pulled it over my head, tossing it aside; at the same time she shrugged her blouse off, and we sat looking at one another a moment; eyes roaming over each other, visually exploring this new territory. Her breasts were lovely, even covered by her bra; the tops were exposed, soft and silky skin, the line of material accentuating her curves, showing me a perfect amount of cleavage.

She didn’t seem distressed at my own bare chest and stomach, as she ran her hands along and through the hair, teasingly soft. I reached out, and slipped the straps off her shoulders, and ran my fingers under the curve of her breasts, undoing the clasp and letting the bra fall to each side; she moved her arms back again, letting it fall behind her, and sat before me, looking at me, watching me look at her and enjoying the pretty sight in front of me.

“You’re lovely, Tammy, just beautiful,” I said, looking into her eyes, “I think you’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” she said, “I like to look at you, too.”

We sat a moment, the two of us, just watching the other, running our eyes over each other. At one point, she said “How come it’s so comfortable to have you just look at me like this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe another quick connection between us? I guess something like that, because it’s not bugging me to have you looking either, and I’m usually self-conscious about it.”

We grinned at one another, enjoying this quick similarity as well as the fast enjoyment of our company, and started to kiss again.

Once again, the passion level stepped up; once again, we were more involved, more vigorous, both of us touching, caressing and moving with one another. At some point, we lay back on her sofa, and squirming around, managed to lose my pants, and her skirt; shortly after that, there was a decided lack of panties and boxers, which made access to touches so much easier, and the touches so much warmer.

Her hand was warm and soft on my hardness, stroking and playing, as I slipped one, then two fingers across her lips, with my palm on her clit; pressing firmly, wriggling fingers against her opening, feeling her inner lips swelling and opening to my touch, I finally, slowly pressed my middle finger into her. She sighed, and spread her legs more, and stroked me harder as I did. “Oh, that feels so nice, don’t stop,” she whispered urgently, squeezing herself around my fingers, “God, I love that feeling, keep pushing on my clit, push into me.”

I could feel her juices flowing around my fingers, as I obediently pressed harder, feel them running more freely around my fingers and onto the knuckles, down her ass, alongside the pucker of her asshole; tentatively, I pressed a fingertip against her asshole, and was rewarded with a further opening of her legs, spreading herself wider for easier access. I wet my third finger in her sopping pussy, then gently pressed that fingertip to her, rimming as I continued to fuck her with my hand. At the same time, she was stroking my cock, the pre-cum running freely, swirling it around the head with her thumb, making me slippery and glistening with my own juice.

I kissed her hard then, leaning over her and feeling the warmth of her skin on mine, her breasts smashed into my chest, hard nubs of her nipples teasing against me, our breath coming faster as we stroked and pressed, my fingers matching her hand’s rhythm on my cock.

Briefly, then, she spasmed, her hips rising, pressing against my hand, and I could feel a tell-tale flutter deep inside her pussy as she came around my fingers, her juice feeling thicker and more slick now, as my own arousal grew stronger. She moaned, a cross between a groan and a growl as she came, and let her legs collapse back down. Moving her hand slowly, she looked at me, and said “We might be more comfortable on the bed.”

“Oh yeah,” I muttered, “Good plan, but we should probably hurry, or-”

“Come on then,” She interrupted, “Let’s go.”

Not releasing her hold on my cock, she pushed my hand from her pussy, and swung onto her feet. She led my by the cock to her bedroom, where she climbed onto her bed, and drew me up with her.

“I want you inside me,” she commanded, “Do me from behind.”

She turned and placed herself on her stomach, raising her hips by bending her knees; with her head down on the mattress, her arms folded, and her hips and thighs lifted for me, I was entranced by just looking at her. I could see her open wet pussy, lips swollen and red and spread wide, and the tiny pucker of her anus. I knelt behind her, running my hands up her thighs, across her ass and onto her back and waist, as I moved closer. She reached between her thighs, finding my cock and guiding it to her pussy, then moving it away as I pressed the head to her opening sex.

Pressing into her, feeling her stretch to accommodate my cock, the wonderful feeling of sliding deep into her wetness, was exquisite pleasure; trying to keep my overheated cock and balls from coming immediately was exquisite torture. I managed, somehow, to slide all the way into her without losing control, feeling her sweet wet pussy squeezing around my shaft, as I pushed to drive into her as far as I could.

“Oh god, that feels so good, you are so wet and hot,” I moaned, “Tammy, I can’t last very long.”

“That’s fine,” she said into her arms, as I felt her fingertips moving on her clit, underneath my cock inside her, “Don’t worry about it, we have time.”

With those words, she squeezed herself tighter, and thrust back into me, pressing her pussy and ass into my body as I knelt behind her, pushing into her. “Dan, come, fuck me fast and come, and we’ll do it again and again.”

Hearing that, feeling her around me, looking down the length of her back with the soft spill of her hair around her head and on the bed, sent me immediately to the brink, and over. I pressed into her as far and hard as I could, hands on her hips and pulling her onto my cock, shooting hot come deep inside her as she moaned again, as my own groan of delighted release mingled with hers.

She continued to pulse and squeeze my cock even as I stopped coming, using the powerful muscles inside her pussy to milk my cock of all the come I had; then, her hand dropped from her clit and I leaned over and kissed her back, softly planting kisses everywhere I could reach. As I slid back, I could see my come in her open pussy, starting to ooze out a bit. That temptation was too much so I leaned over, and lowered my face into her crack, and ran my tongue up her opening.

She jumped, and gasped, and moaned at the touch of my tongue, and when I had run my tongue from her clit to her anus, she rolled over and drew me up to her, swiftly, and brought her mouth to mine. Kissing me hard, she used her tongue to taste our mingled come, running her tongue all over my mouth, sucking the mixed juices from my mouth to hers.

“God, that’s so hot, I love that,” she said into my mouth, never breaking contact, “Jeez, how did you know that would drive me crazy?”

“I didn’t, I just know I like it, and thought you wouldn’t mind,” I answered with my mouth full of her tongue, “I’m glad you’re so much like me, though.”

As we relaxed, I lay next to her, holding her close, kissing her deeply but with less urgency; more passion, but less immediate needs, and we cuddled and stroked one another. As she fell into a doze, I watched her breathing slow, the rise and fall of her breast becoming more gentle. I tucked her against me, holding her close and warm, feeling sleepy myself. As I too drifted off to sleep, I was looking forward to making love to her again, and wondering how I’d gotten so lucky as to meet someone that would take advantage of me, as thoroughly as I’d taken advantage of her.