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Inga and her friends showed up at the club around 10PM, when the party was already in full swing. They’d taken extra time getting ready, their newly-tanned skin exposed by their sexiest outfits. Inga was wearing a black top that revealed the cool valley formed by her magnifient breasts. Eye contact might be a problem tonight, but getting attention from the boys wouldn’t.

The club had a big dance floor inside, but most of the action was outside on the enormous wooden deck that projected out onto the beach. They went to the bar out on the deck and tried to buy a drink, but a quartet of relatively good-looking guys saw them walk up and insisted on buying the first round. Each of them took turns looking at Inga, and then her breasts, and in time one of them separated himself and started putting the moves on her.

Moves Inga found she wasn’t much interested in. He was cute, a few years younger than her…but her body still hummed from the orgasm she’d had in that shower stall that afternoon. She was hungry to see him again, to put her hands on him, and her mouth. She felt a bit ashamed at how easily he’d taken control of her and done whatever he wanted to her body. She wanted to show him that she could wrap him around her little finger, just with a touch. And a lick.

The guy she was talking to touched her forearm and eased her into a chair, and just his touch made her pussy quiver. She was practically in heat, and she resigned herself to the fact that if her mystery man didn’t show she would be fucking the brains out of this barely acceptable speciman before the night was done. She needed sex. She needed to fuck. She needed to be fucked.

And then, from across the room, she saw him walk in. He was with a dozen of his friends, guys and girls mixed together, and she nearly fell off her stool. He wore a pale blue Polo shirt that made his eyes leap out, and under her brassiere her nipples thickened until they ached and pressed against the fabric.

He looked over the room, let his eyes move from right to left…and when he saw her, his eyes locked on hers and stayed there. He didn’t smile, or show any sign of recognition. But HOW he looked at her. Those blue eyes burned into hers and now her pussy was warm and humid and the man who was chattering away next to her was completely forgotten. The mere idea of this joker’s penis slipping inside her was absurd. There was only one man who could have her tonight.

And he was on the other side of the bar. Inga kept up her end of the conversation, talking to the other guys and her friends, while her attention was completely fixed on the group across the way. From time to time the object of her desire would look over at her, but for the most part he talked and laughed with his friends. She wondered if he’d told them what happened that afternoon. For some reason, she doubted it. That was something that was just between the two of them. And that made her want him all the more.

She excused herself and went to the ladies room. She needed a moment alone. The bathrooms were big and wide and she had a mirror all to herself. She reapplied her dark red lipstick, fluffed her hair, and looked herself over. She looked good. She looked great. The drink she’d had gave her a boost of confidence. No, she wouldn’t walk up to him. She’d trap him. She’d lure him. She’d make him quiver and shake just the way she’d quivered and shook that afternoon.

As she walked out the door Inga saw that the men’s room was down the hall from the ladies room, and in between there was an dark, empty dining room. During the day the club probably did a brisk business serving lunch to hungry beachcombers, but now it was quiet and deserted. An idea formed, and Inga became so excited she nearly had to touch herself.

She returned to her stool, and saw across the bar that her target was talking to a slender young woman with dark brown hair. She was very pretty, wearing a pale green top with thin straps, and he seemed quite taken with her, looking at her with considerable interest and laughing loudly and often. Jealousy flared inside her and Inga thought about walking over and flinging her drink in his face.

But then his eyes lifted, and he looked right at her, and his eyes stayed with hers for a long time, before returning to his performance with the girl. Inga had to have him. And she had to have him now.

Every minute she looked over at him. And then, finally, twenty minutes later he broke away from his group and headed for the rest rooms. Inga hastily excused herself and headed that way herself, her drink in hand. She walked so quickly that she nearly caught up to him as he turned the corner and entered the men’s room.

She went into the darkened dining room and quietly pulled out a chair and set it against the wall. The table would give them a little bit of privacy, and she set her drink on it and purse on it. She waited…and then a devilish thought popped into her mind. She pulled out her lipstick and carefully reapplied it. And then she waited.

There was a mirrored sign on the far wall so Inga could see he was the one coming down the hall. When he was just about to pass the dining room Inga stepped out, grabbed both his wrists, and dragged him into the darkness. “Hey!” he said–and that sign of weakness, of confusion, was more intoxicating to Inga than anything she’d drank that night. She was nearly as tall as him and kept him off balance and she pulled him along and then pushed him into the chair.

“Remember me?” Inga asked, going down on her knees and snuggling between his legs. And before he could answer, she said, “I’m wearing a lot of lipstick. Dark red lipstick. You have a choice. I can either leave lip prints all over your clean khaki shorts…or all over your cock. It’s up to you.”

He hesitated. Inga said, “How are you going to explain to your friends how you got dark red lipstick all over the fly of your shorts? Do you think that cute little girl you’re talking to is going home with you with my lipstick smeared all over your crotch?”

She let her fingertips slip under his shorts, and he arched his hips. “No no, you don’t get to move. If you move, I might make your shorts messy. Hurry now, either pull it out or I’m going to be very kissy-kissy all over your lap.”

He looked confused, discombobulated…and excited. He reached down, unbuttoned his shorts, and unzipped them. He got them down a few inches before Inga said, “No, that’s far enough.” He wore clean white boxers and she reached up and gently pulled his penis through the fly.

He was throbbing, the tip of his cock already slick and shiny. She used her fingers to pull the skin tight at the base and she ran her tongue over the satiny tip of his erection. “Oh. My. God.” he said.

“You have to be quiet,” Inga whispered.

“Yes.”

“You have to stay perfectly still. Don’t move. Don’t thrust. Or I’ll might slip and kiss your khakis.”

“Yes.”

Inga put him into her mouth and it was glorious. He was so hard, so impossibly hard for her. She formed a ring around the base of his cock with her fist and bobbed her head up and down his length. His breathing was deep and ragged, and she knew he wanted to buck and thrust into her mouth, but he had to just sit there and take it, take the luscious abuse her mouth and tongue were dealing to his organ.

His head lolled back. He was struggling for control. The dining room was far enough away that the noise from the club was deadened, and in the dark it seemed like the wet sounds of her lips and tongue and sucking mouth were magnified. “Mmm,” she growled, and he shivered from head to toe. Inga knew she could really torture him, she could let his cock slip free from her lips and say that they’d finish the next time he had to use the rest room. But with him in her mouth she knew she HAD to make him come. She had to feel him lose control and pour himself down her throat. She wanted to hear him whimper.

And he was whimpering now. “Are you going to come?” she asked. He just nodded. “Did you want this when you saw me here, did you want me sucking your cock?” He nodded. “You thought you’d just snap your fingers and I’d suck your cock when you wanted, didn’t you?” He nodded. She put him back in her mouth, let her tongue flutter along the head before giving him several crown-to-base deep throats. He sighed, trembled, and she knew his orgasm was hers for the taking. “I think you underestimated me,” Inga said.

And then she went wild on his cock, head bobbing up and down, her fingers stroking him, her tongue sliding all over the head. He couldn’t help himself, he jerked a bit forward as the first gout of semen spurted from the tip of his penis. He hardened even more as her lips closed around the head and he ejaculated again and again and again. Inga’s eyes popped wide and she looked up at his angelic face as he quietly sighed and cooed because of the pleasure she was giving him. She swallowed him and, at last, he was still.

She pulled her mouth away, swallowed again, and tucked his spent penis inside his boxers. And then, after she smoothed the fly closed, she leanded down and planted a long, sticky kiss on his white boxers. “Hey,” he said quietly, and Inga leaned back and smiled. “Something to remember me by,” she said. A perfect red lip print was left behind, right where his exhausted cock now slumbered. She stood, took a long sip from her drink, and reached in her purse for a cigarette. “Run along to your friends now,” she said. “Good luck with your little friend.”

He stood, buttoned and zipped his shorts, and arched his back. Inga lit her cigarette and blew smoke at the ceiling as he wordlessly walked past. He got the hall, turned, and said quietly, “I hope you haven’t underestimated me. I also hope you don’t think this is over.”

And then he said, “I’ll see you tonight,” before walking down the hall.

Inga smoked her cigarette, embarassed that her hands were shaking. He would see her tonight. How? When? What was he up to? What would he do? She just hoped it involved the two of them naked, and that magnificent penis sliding in and out of her pussy. Her hands still shook as she stubbed out her cigarette, but then she took another sip of her drink and remembered the soft cries she’d extracted from him during her oral assault. She could deal with whatever he had in store. Even as she wondered what it might be. She went back to her friends, apologized for taking so long, and sighed inside as the man she was talking to leered at her breasts. Go ahead and look, she said to herself. You won’t get to touch. Only one man in this bar gets to do that.
When Inga and her friends returned to their hotel is was close to 2AM. She was tired, both from the number of pastel-colored drinks she’d consumed and from gently–and then, not so gently–informing a number of guys at the bar that she wouldn’t be going home with him tonight. Under normal circumstances she might’ve given in, fucked one of them, left him exhausted and moaning and covered in sweat. But not after the day she’d just had. Not after the man she’d met today.

She and her giggling friends walked down the hall, talking about the night’s events, though Inga still hadn’t told any of them about the man who fondled her to orgasm that afternoon, the man who had ejaculated into her mouth at the bar. And she remembered that he said that their little encounter wasn’t over yet, and that he’d “see her tonight”. But how was that possible? It was 2AM. He’d left the bar shortly before her group did. And when he did leave, he hadn’t so much as looked over at her. She wondered if what he said was just talk. And then she remembered his hands on her, all over her, how strong and confident and skilled, and knew that he wasn’t just talk.

She reached in her purse for the keycard to open her door. And couldn’t find it. She rummaged around, sure she’d brought it with her…but it wasn’t in her purse. “Oh, shit,” she said, and one of her friends asked what was the matter. “I don’t have my card,” she said.

They gathered around as she searched once again, and then one of her friends said, “Maybe it fell out when that guy knocked your purse on the floor.”

And Inga felt butterflies take wing in her belly. “What guy?”

“This guy came to the bar to get a drink, he bumped your purse with his elbow. Maybe it fell out when it hit the floor.”

Inga nodded. “I’ll call the bar tomorrow, maybe they found it.” She swallowed. “What did the guy look like?”

“He was cute. Pretty blue eyes, he had a nice smile. He apologized for being klutzy. But he didn’t seem to interested in us, he was there with a big group of people.”

Inga nodded, and said good night to her friends as she took the elevator down to the lobby. She explained to the clerk what happened and the girl said she’d have a new card made up. Inga slowly looked around to see if he was waiting there in the lobby. He wasn’t. She was excited and as her nipples slowly hardened she had to fight the urge to touch them.

“Here you go,” the clerk said. “There will be a $10 charge if you can’t find the original…”

“Oh, I’m sure I just left it in the room,” Inga said with a smile. “I’ll return the extra tomorrow morning.”

She went up to her room, stripped, and fought the urge to masturbate. She knew, she KNEW, he’d come to see her tonight. She wanted to be ready for him, for whatever he had ready for her.

She thought about running a bath, but she was afraid he might come when she was in the bathroom. A bath together would be delicious…but it wasn’t big enough. She turned down the lights and lay down on the cool, white sheets. The air conditioner hummed, the bed was soft, and despite herself, despite the excitement and anxiety, she felt herself falling asleep. And a few moments later, she was asleep.

How long she slept she didn’t know. She heard the soft “click” at her door, saw a sliver of light cross the room as the door open and closed. She was wide awake now, frightened but aroused, as footsteps sounded and a large figure appeared at the foot of the bed.

“You’re awake?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said, and she heard him set something heavy down on the dresser. Then she saw him pull his shirt up over his head, heard him unzip and step out of his shorts, and then his boxers.

“I hope my lip prints didn’t cause you any problems tonight,” she said nervously.

“They did,” he said as he gently seized her ankles and pulled her hips to the edge of the bed.

Inga tried to keep her voice from breaking. “With that girl you were talking to?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He went down on his knees between her splayed legs. “She wanted me to fuck her, but how could I, with your lipstick all over me. Plus I’d just come like a gusher and wasn’t much in the mood.”

“So what did you do?” Inga asked, biting her lower lip in anticipation of what must be coming.

“I did this.” And his lips brushed the outer lips of her pulsating vagina. He didn’t go at her right away, he took his time, as he always too his time. His tongue traced a wet line along the inside of her left thigh, and then across her pubic bone to her right thigh.

His tongue gently touched the tip of her clitoris. “You made her come?” Inga gasped.

“Of course,” he answered, before returing his attention to her thighs.

“And you didn’t come yourself?”

He paused and looked up at her. “You think I’d be content to ejaculate inside anyone but you?” He shook his head as if her question was silly–and his tongue brushed against her clitoris, and this time he didn’t pull away.

Inga had to stay quiet, because her friends were sleeping in the rooms on either side. But she wanted to scream. She wanted to SCREAM because he was giving her head and it was so good, so fucking GOOD, that screaming was the only way she could burn off the crackling energy throbbing throughout her body. His lips surrounded her clitoris and his tongue moved in slow circles that made her entire body turn to jelly. His fingertips gently stroked her thighs and he made gentle, “mmm…mmm” sounds that drove her nearly insane.

She leaned forward to run her fingers through his soft hair, pulling his face deeper into her groin, and his hands reached up and filled themselves with her heavy breasts. His fingers found her nipples and that was all Inga needed, she closed her eyes, bit her lip, and trembled from head to toe as a titanic orgasm thundered through her body. His tongue didn’t stop as she climaxed, driving her to greater and greater peaks of ecstasy, until she was whimpering and struggling not to scream. But just as her clitoris became too sensitive, just when the pleasure turned to discomfort, he pulled his mouth away. He sat up. And Inga saw that he was hugely erect, his cock pointed straight her her opening.

“Yes, yes,” she said as he mounted her. “Yes,” she said, scuttling back on the bed to give him more room. Yes, he was going to fuck her now, his penis would be inside her vagina and he would stroke it in and out of her until she lost her mind and he lost his resolve and poured himself inside her. Yes, yes, yes…

But he didn’t pause to insert himself. He kept crawling forward, until he was sitting lightly on her stomach. “Wait,” she said, wanting him to move down and fuck her, but now she saw that he had something in his hand, he’d picked it up off the dresser and he popped the cap on it and tipped it forward. The voluptuous smell of baby oil filled her nostrils, and he poured the buttery liquid all over her breasts. She arched her back as he drizzled oil over her nipples, down her cleavage, down her neck, on her shoulders. He snapped the cap shut and put the bottle down and used both hands to smooth the oil all over her skin. Inga lifted her arms over her head and let him caress her, the oil making her skin slick and pliant and fragrant.

She knew what was coming. He grabbed the bottle, poured more oil between her breasts, tossed the bottle aside, and rose up on his hips. He gently squeezed her breasts together and used his thumb to force his bobbing erection between her oily pillows.

And then he began thrusting, titty-fucking her mammouth breasts with his cock. Inga looked up and saw his powerful frame silhouetted against the wall, his hips rocking back and forth as he stroked his cock between her breasts. “I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you on the beach,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You could have in the shower stall,” Inga said. He shook his head. “That was all about giving you pleasure,” he answered, and Inga moaned at the memory of his soapy hands roving over her body. And then she moaned as his oily thumbs began twiddling her nipples in rhythm with his hips.

A few times his thrusting became too frantic and he popped out. “My cock isn’t quite long enough for this,” he said, almost apologizing.

“It feels big enough to me,” Inga said breathlessly.

“We’ll see how you feel when it’s inside you.”

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “Please say you’ll fuck me. Please.”

“I don’t know,” he said as his cock squished between her tits. “I like the idea of coming all over your magnificent breasts. And,” he said, his voice becoming more ragged, “I think I’m getting close.”

“No, please,” Inga begged. “Fuck me. Put it inside me. Come inside my pussy. Please. You tasted me, you know how nice it would be inside me. I know you want to be inside me. Please. Fuck me.”

He kept thrusting. “You keep talking like that,” he growled, “and I’ll be coming in five seconds.”

She fell silent, the only sound in the room their quickened breathing and the wet sound of his oily cock sliding between her oily breasts. “Please,” she said to herself, “Please, please, please, fuck me, fuck me, fuckmefuckmefuckme…”

He snapped his hips back, yanking his cock from between her tits. Her entire body was slick with oil now and he pressed his chest against hers and there was barely any friction as his hips, and his cock, slithered down her belly. He reached up and gently pinned her wrists with his hands. She trembled as the fat head of his penis searched for her opening. “Come now, where is it,” he teased, and Inga nearly bit his shoulder in frustration as his rock-hard knob probed her. But when it lodged in the opening of her vagina, his smile vanished, and he swallowed and slowly drove his hips forward, impaling her.

“Ohhhh,” he sighed, and then he arched his back, drew his cock out…and sank back inside her. “Inga, ohhh,” he moaned. And then he drew his cock out, slid forward, drew it out, pushed harder, pulled back, pushed HARDER, and in a few seconds he was fucking her with energetic thrusts.

Inga could barely register this, as she’d had an orgasm almost the second he entered her. No, it was when he moaned her name, moaned, “Inga, ohhh.” She came and the delirous pleasure wouldn’t stop, not so long as he was fucking her. He held her arms down and plowed her, but Inga regained control of herself and wrapped her long legs around his waist, her heels dug into his buttocks and forced him to maintaing a brutal pace. He arched his back but her legs were strong and she wouldn’t let him break free.

“I think we’re both trapped,” she said, and he responded by fucking her faster and harder and he leaned down and kissed her and she drove her tongue into his mouth and his lips closed around her tongue and sucked it. They were locked together, they couldn’t break free from each other, and he buried his head against her ear and he moaned, “You’re gonna make me come, and I want you to hear what you’re doing to me!”

“Yes, please, come in me!”

He thrust a few more times, then paused…and then drove his hips spasmodically three or four times before burying himself in her so deep he dug his toes into the bed to get a few more millimeters of penetration. “Ohhhh!” he moaned into her ear. “Inga…..OH!” She felt his penis swell, pulse, and then liquid warmth flooded her pussy. He whimpered and moaned as his cock throbbed and spat and shivered inside her. His semen overflowed her pussy and she felt it oozing out onto her thighs. He released her wrists and she reached down to clasp the small of his back and keep him buried as deeply inside her as possible as he came. He trembled from head to toe as his throes came to an end. It was the biggest orgasm she’d ever seen from a man.

And she was the one who made him come.

They lay there for awhile, her body wrapped around his, holding him close, but eventually his penis deflated and her arms and legs grew weary. She released him, and he slowly, slowly unsheathed his penis. Come dribbled out of her onto her sheets, which were also stained with sweat and oil. He rolled off her and lay beside her a few minutes, neither of them able to speak. He finally rolled out of bed, and Inga said desperately, “You’re not leaving?”

“I have to. I’m going on a bike trip with my friends in two hours. It’s nearly 5AM.”

Inga rolled over and saw that the clock read 4:53. “But…” she said.

“Get up,” he commanded, and as always Inga had to obey when he spoke. When she was out of bed he reached down and yanked all the sheets off the bed. He bundled them in a ball and tossed them in a corner, and then he went to the dresser where a stack of fresh sheets lay. “I knew things might get a bit oily..” he said with a smile in his voice. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom and clean up a bit. I’m afraid I made a mess all over your beautiful skin.” She did just that, running a washcloth under warm water and washing her breasts, her stomach, and her pussy. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw a grinning woman who had just had her brains fucked out.

When she returned he’d just finished making the bed. He smoothed it out with his hands, and then he took Inga by the hand and led her back to bed. He kissed her on the lips, he kissed her right nipple, he leaned down and kissed her freshly-washed pussy. And then he pulled the cool sheet up over her breasts and gave her hip a last caress.

“Get some sleep. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Aren’t you?” she asked. She didn’t want him to leave.

“I’m exhilarated,” he said. “I’ll have a nap in the afternoon. I’d like to stay, but I’m a bit afraid of what you might do to me in my sleep.”

He stood, got dressed, and said, “Oh, here’s you’re keycard. What a happy coincidence, me finding it at the bar.”

“Sure,” Inga said, “A coincidence.”

He started to leave. “What’s your name?” Inga said.

He paused. “I don’t think I’m going to tell you. A little mystery will keep you interested.”

“You think I’m won’t still be interested after I learn your name?”

She could tell he was grinning. “They way you came just now, I think I could keep you interested for a bit longer.”

He moved to the door. Inga said, “Honey?”

“Yes?”

“You really should be worried about what I might do to you in your sleep.”

He paused again. “Should I?”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

He quietly opened the door. “Maybe now I won’t be able to sleep. Or, maybe not.” He shut the door behind him, and was gone.

Inga let her head rest against the pillow. It was very cool. It was very soft. It was very quiet in her room. It was very late. And thirty seconds later, Inga was sound asleep, dreaming of ways to disturb the slumber of the man who would fill her dreams for years to come.

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