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By The Numbers Ch. 01

By: slyc_willie



Sheila was the kind of flirtatious, outgoing girl who got attention no matter where she was, what she wore, or what she did. While some of the other girls at the restaurant didn't like her (due to jealousy), most did, and there wasn't a guy who did not salivate when she was around. Sheila loved all the attention, that much was obvious, but at twenty-four, she no giggling girl. She was well aware of her effect on men.

Waiting tables was my first real job. I was twenty years old, halfway through college, and while my parents were paying my rent and tuition, the business they ran had begun to struggle. Bottom line, if I wanted to stay in school, I needed a part-time job to cover basic expenses and my car insurance.

I was more than a little surprised to be hired at the restaurant called Jersey Jack's, especially as a server. I had no experience to speak of, but there was something about me that the hiring manager liked. Next thing I knew, I was showing up for training the following Monday.

I met Sheila that first day. I have to admit, her bold, casual sexuality was intimidating, and I didn't say more than two words to her when we were introduced. But I sure as hell looked. The restaurant was casual; our uniform consisted of blue jeans and yellow polo shirts, and Sheila filled them both out deliciously. She had smooth, dusky skin, a slender dancer's figure, and an angelic face that belied her mixed Greek and Asian heritage. Sheila had the most luxuriously long, straight brown hair that she always kept in a ponytail at work, revealing a sleek and very kissable neck.

After the first few weeks, I got over my nervousness and innate shyness and proved to be fairly good at waiting tables. The job turned out to be more lucrative than I had expected, and I began to feel better about working just twenty hours a week. I made some new friends, hung out with them now and then after work (they knew a bar where I wouldn't be carded), and generally started becoming more extroverted.

But whenever I saw Sheila . . . my mouth went dry and my palms grew damp. I couldn't say anything to her without stammering, and I was in danger of seizure if I spent more than a second looking into her deep brown eyes.

Up until that point, I had only had two 'real' girlfriends. I had neither the confidence nor the suave nature to approach girls, even though I was supposedly handsome enough. The few times I managed to get a date, it was with girls who were just as conservative as I, looking for relationship material. My sexual experience was pretty limited, with the majority of my fantasies unfulfilled.

Fantasies which, suddenly, starred sexy Sheila. I found myself masturbating practically every day to her image, imagining torrid sexual encounters in the walk-in cooler at work, or in my car or apartment. In my fantasies, Sheila was a sultry, eager, seductive playmate for whom everything was enjoyable.

Little did I know . . . .

Eventually, of course, I got to know Sheila a little better, through casual conversation, rumor, and observation. She was devoted to her boyfriend, a guy about thirty years old, I figured, who came in now and then to see her. By all accounts, he was a good guy, who did not seem to mind that his girlfriend was an outrageous flirt. But I noticed quickly, however, that despite her flirtatious nature, Sheila never let it go too far. Though she would go out with us after work, and hugged and kissed a lot, she stopped there. By all accounts, she was faithful to her attorney boyfriend.

Obviously, that just made all the guys want her more. And I was one of them.

***

Three months into my employment at Jersey Jack's, I was looking forward to the holiday break from school. While it meant that I would be working more at the restaurant, the additional money would come in handy for Christmas presents. And it did, of course. By the 20th, I had finished all my holiday shopping and was enjoying the excess. Although, some days, after being on my feet for twelve hours straight, I couldn't have cared less about the money. I just wanted to get home and get some sleep.

That Thursday night, I was glad to get out. I had been working all day, and had the greasy skin and restaurant smell to show for it. Sure, I also had just under two hundred bucks for my troubles, which helped to assuage the tiredness in my muscles and the tension in my neck. Having turned down an offer to hit the bar that night, I headed out to my car.

Decembers in the Southwest are typically pretty mild, and that particular season was no exception. We were getting daytime highs in the mid-seventies, with the warmth lingering long after nightfall. I was enjoying that warmth as I strolled through the darkened parking lot. I lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and—

"Fuck!"

I looked to my left, spying a white Toyota in the shadows of the parking lot. It took me a moment to recognize it as Sheila's car. I saw her throw open the door and step out, looking obviously perturbed. She kicked her car a few times and pulled at her hair, which, I noticed, had been released from its ponytail. It flowed down her back like a cape, hanging just below the cheeks of her tight, round little ass. She still wore her jeans, of course, but had doffed the work polo, revealing a tight white halter that revealed her narrow waist and the exquisite shape of her breasts.

"Sheila?" I called, moving toward her.

She looked in my direction, her beautiful features contorted in exasperation. "Fucking car!" she exclaimed, and kicked the front bumper again. She winced, hopping on one foot as she held the other.

I jogged over, just in time to catch her as she toppled back. Sheila fell right into my arms, her hair covering my face for a moment. Despite the fact that she had worked as long a day as I had, she smelled sweetly, almost fresh from the shower.

"You okay?" I asked her, seeing little through the veil of her long, soft strands.

"Um . . . Nate?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah."

"You're groping my boobs."

I had not realized I was doing so, but the moment Sheila spoke the words, I could feel her firm little mounds filling my hands. Evidently, in catching her, my hands had slid up her body. "Oh," I said simply, and pushed her up. I turned away sheepishly as Sheila smoothed down her shirt. "I didn't do it on purpose."

She laughed softly. "It's okay, Nate. Thanks for catching me."

I shrugged, feeling sheepish and embarrassed. At the same time, I relished the brief memory of having actually touched . . . held . . . those perfectly round tits . . . .

"Um . . . car trouble?" I asked.

She sighed heavily, taking out her cell-phone. She pressed a couple of buttons, held the phone to her ear. After a few moments, however, she snapped the device closed and huffed. "Mother fucker," she seethed under her breath.

I watched her a moment, admiring her face in profile. Sheila was a tall girl, maybe just an inch shorter than I, with classic cheekbones and the oval face inherited from her Chinese mother. She had a tiny nose, slightly upturned, and full, soft lips that presently quivered.

"Hey, um, if you need a ride—" I began.

She snapped her head around toward me. It was obvious that something was bothering her, more than an uncooperative car ever could. Her gorgeous brown eyes were wide, round, and practically brimming with tears. "You wanna get a drink?" she asked.  

I blinked. "Um . . . sure."

***

Sheila sulked in the passenger seat of my car, arms crossed under her breasts as she sat low in the seat. She stared at the glove compartment of the dash like a Tantrist in meditation.

"We, uh, we could go to Cooty's," I suggested, mentioning the one and only bar I knew I could get into without being carded. It was the usual hangout for several of us from the restaurant. I knew Angie, Teddy, and Mark would be there, and probably a few others.

Sheila shook her head. "I don't feel like being around people," she said.

I nodded. "Oh-kay . . . ."

She sighed again. "I'm sorry, Nate. I didn't mean it like that. I like you. You don't make me feel like you're looking at me with X-ray glasses on."

I didn't know how to respond, but it suddenly struck me that Sheila was a woman who felt somehow cursed by her own obvious sexuality, even as she reveled in it.

"Hey, look," she said, sitting up in her seat as the passing streetlights flashed over her. "I know a bootlegger, on the west side. We can get a couple pints cheap, then just . . . hang out for a while. Is that cool?"

My heart suddenly flipped over, but I tried to stay cool. "Yeah, well, uh, um, sure. Sounds cool," I said. "You, um, don't have to, uh, go home?"

Sheila fell silent for a few long moments, compelling me to glance over. She was staring out the window. "No. I don't."

***

We pulled up to the house, and as Sheila indicated, I flashed my lights a couple times, revealing a dilapidated structure that was badly in need of fresh paint. The neighborhood was one that made me nervous; we had seen 'gangstas' and strung-out prostitutes walking the streets as Sheila directed me to her bootlegger.

A middle-aged black woman came out of the house, approaching my side of the car. Sheila leaned across me, all but forcing me to inhale her sweet scent. Her lower back and the tops of her taut cheeks were revealed, with sexy dimples framing a tattoo of a golden Chinese ideograph. "Pint of SoCo, and—" she looked to me expectantly, silently asking me what I wanted. I just nodded. I didn't know what the hell 'SoCo' was.

"Make it two," Sheila said, then leaned back, digging in her pocket as the woman walked away.

"I'll get it," I said, reaching for my money.

Sheila shook her head, shooting me a look. "No, it's on me," she said. Her tone made it clear that she was not going to be argued with.

The woman came back with two small brown paper bags. Sheila reached over me with the money, and I took the bottles. The woman returned to her house, and I backed the car out. Sheila was quick to crack the top off one of the bottles and take a drink. She sighed, sinking back into the seat.

"That's better," she said.

For whatever reason, I started laughing. Maybe it was nervous tension, mingled with relief, and again mingled with the constant state of arousal I felt at being so close to a woman who personified, in my mind, the very definition of 'sexy.'

Thankfully, Sheila began laughing as well.

***

". . . and then, he was, like, 'I bet you got great tits, baby,'" Sheila was saying between spurts of laughter. Her cheeks were rosy from the alcohol she had imbibed. She shook her head. "I was a counter girl at Burger King, for God's sake! And he was, like, forty or something!"

I chuckled at her tale, took another swig from my bottle. 'SoCo,' I now knew, was short for Southern Comfort, a rich, potent, caramel-flavored liquor. I was starting to like it. Of course, maybe I was only enjoying the potable due to the cool breeze washing through the open windows of my car, and the gorgeous woman sitting beside me. Sheila had directed me to a small park at the edge of a quiet residential division, and I had pulled up beneath the heavy, broad bows of an old Live Oak.

"I bet you get that a lot," I commented, looking for my cigarettes.

Sheila sighed heavily, settling her bottle in her lap. She stared at the ceiling. "When I was fourteen, I was walking home from school because I had cheer practice and missed the bus and my mom wasn't . . ." She laughed to herself, lowering her head and gritting her teeth. "Middle of the day, and this guy pulls up ahead of me. Flashes me twenty bucks."

I looked to her, somewhat drunkenly. "I'm sorry."

Sheila lolled her head toward me and smiled ruefully. "Don't think I ever ran so fast in my life," she said.

I held up my bottle in a toast. "Good for you."

Sheila grinned, then clinked her bottle against mine. "Good for me," she said, then drank. "How many girls have you been with?"

The question almost made me choke on my cigarette. I pulled it away from my mouth and looked to Sheila. "What?"

She curled up on her side in the seat, facing me as she took little sips now and then. Every time her mouth puckered around the ridged opening of the pint made me think of a blowjob. "Come on," she said, seductively licking the edge of the bottle's mouth. "How many?"

I blushed, looking down. I rolled my shoulders, smoked my cigarette, watched the grey haze getting sucked out the window. "Two."

"'Two?'" Sheila repeated, sounding incredulous.

I could feel the redness in my face deepening, and set my jaw. "I'm not exactly a stud," I said.

She was quiet a gain, shifting onto her back as she tilted the bottle to her lips. "You know, when I was twenty," she said. "I had probably four or five boyfriends. Only time I ever slept alone was when I wasn't in the mood. Trust me, that didn't happen that often."

I stared at Sheila, not sure if what she was telling me was something she was proud of or not. At the same time, I wasn't sure if I liked what I was hearing. I had always thought of Sheila as the sexy flirt, yet practically chaste. But now, here she was, essentially admitting she had once been a slut.

I flicked my cigarette out the window. "Yeah, well . . . now you really got someone," I said awkwardly.

"Yeah," she said, her voice faint and distant. "I sure do."

I frowned, reading something in Sheila's face that I could not quite understand, yet I knew to be painful to her. "You wanna talk about it?"

She rolled her head toward me, her features suddenly soft and sultry. "No," she said, then smiled. "I wanna kiss you."

I just stared, stunned, astonished, transmogrified . . . however you wanted to put it. "Wh-what?"

Sheila turned toward me fully, her shoulders shifting as she breathed in. "You're a really sweet guy, Nate, you know that?"

I swallowed nervously, staring at her lips. So soft, glistening, and inviting. "And . . . you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

Sheila kept smiling, and now she bit her lower lip, her eyes flickering around my face. She leaned closer, slipping her tongue out briefly. "Kiss me," she whispered, and then her lips met mine . . . .

Oh, Jesus! I had never been kissed like that before. Sheila's lips barely graced mine, then they pressed a little more firmly. She whimpered softly, bringing up her hands. She touched my face, my neck, ran her fingers through my hair. I tasted her breath, felt the darting tip of her tongue.

Something overcame me, then, and I pushed myself upon her, mashing my lips against hers. She let me, at first, pulling on my shirt, running her hands over my shoulders, moaning into my mouth. She sucked on my lips, pulling them into her mouth, licked the corner of my mouth. I was insanely aroused, and started to move on top of her.

She stopped me. Her hands pushed against my chest.

"Wait."

I stopped, catching my breath, and opened my eyes. Sheila stared up at me, a pleading, pained expression on her face. I wanted her, that much I knew, and if I had been a certain sort of man, I could have taken her. But I wasn't. Instead, I eased back into my seat and faced the windshield over the steering wheel. Without a word, I turned the key, then backed away from beneath the massive oak.

***

The following week was excruciating. Sheila and I had several shifts together, but we rarely spoke. Still, now and then, we exchanged a look as we passed in the server's alley or on the dining room floor, looks that reminded us both of the night we shared. I felt tortured, like a man who had tasted the finest fruit in the Garden of Eden . . . only to be denied the flavor forevermore.

Christmas came and went. I spent the day with my parents and kid sister. I let myself be lost in the general good will of the season, for the single day that it lasted. But, December 26th found me back at work . . . with Sheila.

On New Year's Eve, I was one of only a handful of servers scheduled. It was a pretty slow night for us, since we closed at nine and the majority of patrons would be hitting the bars downtown to ring in the New Year. I was surprised to see Sheila on the roster for the night. I had figured she would be spending the night with her beau.

Sheila was pretty subdued during the shift, going about her duties almost like a robot. She seemed to go out of her way to avoid me, or maybe that was just my perception. I watched her at her tables, listened to her sweet, melodic voice.

She finished her duties quickly that evening, and left just after nine o'clock, when the restaurant closed. I stayed around, helping the closers as they cleaned up, shared a shot of tequila with them and our manager. It was still two hours before midnight when we all left, heading to our scattered cars in the parking lot. I had parked mine near a small cluster of dogwoods behind the restaurant.

"Happy New Year."

I started at the sound of the voice, and looked around. Part of my mind recognized Sheila's voice, but it seemed so out of place. I saw her sitting on the ground in the midst of the dogwoods, hidden from view. Her dark eyes glowed slightly in the darkness as she looked upon me.

"Um . . . happy New Year," I responded, unsure of what to make of the situation. "I figured you'd be with your boyfriend. You got out of here pretty early."

Sheila shrugged and stood, stepping from the shadows. I noticed that she had changed into a pair of tight boy shorts and a long-sleeved half shirt that left her shoulders and tops of her breasts bare. Her hair was down and brushed out, and the sheen she always earned at work had been scrubbed away and replaced with fresh makeup. I had never seen her look so gorgeous.

"I wanted to change," she said, dodging my question about her boyfriend. But I really wasn't thinking about that. I couldn't stop staring at her, the way she was dressed. She had a pierced navel, with an inch-long charm hanging from it, and a series of cat-print tattoos on the left side of her lower abdomen, disappearing under the shorts. And the shorts themselves . . . Jesus. They were so snug that they formed a perfect cameltoe, making the lips of her pussy bulge.

"I, uh, can see that," I said, feeling my heart fluttering in my chest. She seemed taller, about my height in fact, and I realized she was wearing brown leather go-go boots. I was getting an erection just from looking at her.

Sheila gave me a catty look. "I heard you were going to spend New Year's Eve alone," she said. "Care to, uh, change your plans?"

As much as I was turned on, I was also a little wary. I really didn't know Sheila well enough to discern if she was playing with me or not. "Like . . . how?" I asked.

Her dark eyes glittered mischievously. "Wanna watch some fireworks?"

***

I didn't know exactly what Sheila was planning, and she was cagey enough not to answer me directly. But that gleam in her eye, and the way she was dressed . . . I was willing to take the risk of possible humiliation. In the back of my mind, I was thinking that Sheila was playing a practical joke on me, somehow setting me up for embarrassment. But I didn't care. If I really was going to have a shot with this beauty, I wanted to take the chance.

I wasn't surprised when Sheila directed me to her bootlegger again, but I was a little surprised when she had me drive to a field on the southern side of the Air Force base, where a fireworks celebration was going to be launched. It was a little after eleven when we arrived, and I noticed several other cars parked nearby. I chose a spot on the dead grass far enough away from the other cars that we would not be easily observed.

Once the engine was off, Sheila pushed her seat back and lowered it, smiling as she cracked open her pint. I mirrored her, earning an approving smile, after turning on the radio at a low volume.


By The Numbers Ch. 01



"This is what I really like," Sheila said, after taking a long pull from her bottle. "Not a lot of noise, just . . . enjoying the moment. Know what I mean?"

I couldn't help but admire her lean, sexy body again. "I sure don't have any complaints," I said. "Beats the hell out of banging on fryer pans with my mom on the back porch."

Sheila laughed, a genuine, pixyish sound. Her eyes flashed as she looked to me. There was enough light that I could make out every feature of her body, but enough shadow to keep her mysterious. "Your folks do that, too?" she asked.

I laughed and nodded, taking a swig from my bottle. I dug out my smokes, lit two of them at the same time, handed one to her. Sheila took it with a sweet smile. I watched her lips pucker around the filter. It seemed to me that Sheila couldn't do anything without making it look sexual.

"Did, um, you and your boyfriend have a fight?" I asked.

Sheila blew smoke, leaning back with her bottle of SoCo cradled between her perfect breasts. "We've been fighting for a while," she said. Her face suddenly looked sad.

"I'm sorry."

She sighed heavily. "Shit happens, you know?"

I nodded. "Yeah." It was all I could say.

We were both quiet for a long moment, smoking in silence. Sheila finally spoke. "Nate."

"Yeah?" I asked, looking to her.

Sheila was curled up on her side, facing me, her intense eyes glowing in the near-darkness. Her finely-tanned skin looked almost pale. "Have you really only been with two girls?" she asked. "Like, in your whole life?"

I nodded, feeling once more embarrassed. "Yeah."

Sheila's eyes sparkled. "You know, you could be a real stud," she said. "You got a nice bod, and those, sweet, gorgeous eyes . . . ."

Now I really blushed. I fought down a smile as I smoked my cigarette and took a drag off my cigarette. I could feel the heat in my cheeks. Sheila laughed softly.

"You're blushing!" she exclaimed, then laughed again. "God, that's so cute!"

I squirmed a little, scooting around in my seat, and flicked some ash out the window. I almost jumped when I felt Sheila's hand touch my right thigh. I turned my face, looking at hers. She was biting her lip in a way that even I understood meant she was horny. Still, the invisible looming presence of her boyfriend bothered me.

"Sheila . . . ."

"Yeah?"

I sighed. "Look," I said. "You're really nice, hanging out with me, and I don't know what's going on with you and your boyfriend, but . . . don't tease me, okay?"

Sheila pulled back, just a little, taking her hand from my leg. Her smile disappeared. "You think I'm just messing with you?" she asked.

I laughed nervously. "I don't know what you're doing with me," I blurted out. "It's New Year's Eve, and I figured you'd be bringing in the new year with a bang with Mr. Lawyer. Instead, you're chugging pints with me."

She sounded hurt when she spoke again. "If you don't want my company, you can take me back," she said. I watched as she took a deep swallow from her bottle.

I shifted in my seat, facing her. "It's not that," I said. I couldn't help but notice the way her tiny shorts revealed most of her ass. "It's just . . . I guess I wanna know why you're here, with me."

Sheila shrugged. "I like you," she said simply, not looking to me. She smiled. "I like you a lot, in fact."

I breathed in, feeling my heart dancing. "But . . . you have a boyfriend," I said.

Again, Sheila shrugged. "Maybe."

"'Maybe?'"

She faced me again. "Do you really like me?"

I sputtered for a moment. "Y-y-yeah. Of course."

She smiled slowly. "Do you want me?"

I swallowed thickly. "Yes."

Sheila suddenly grinned, and fell back in her seat. She nibbled her lower lip as she thought. Outside my car, a few others pulled up, none too close, but some closer than I would have wanted. I could hear a muffled variety of music.

"Are you kinky?" she asked at last. She wasn't looking at me, instead, she stared straight ahead, out through the windshield. The corner of her mouth that I could see was curled in a sly smile.

My arousal spiked instantly. I could feel warmth spreading from my chest right to my crotch. My jeans suddenly began to feel tight and constricting. "Um . . . like how?"

Sheila turned her head toward me, eyes gleaming with excitement. "You ever hear of doing it by the numbers?"

I swallowed nervously, but I was getting more turned on by the moment. "I, uh . . . I don't think so," I said.

"Well," said Sheila, then took a drink. She screwed the cap back on her bottle and stretched out with her arms reaching to the headrest behind her. Naturally, that made her back arch, showcasing her smooth, firm stomach and the points of her nipples stabbing through her top. "Basically, it means we do a different thing each time we're together, starting slow and working our way toward more . . . intimate things."

My heart was pounding. Was Sheila really saying what I was hearing? Maybe the music was twisting her words, or maybe the alcohol had gotten to me. I couldn't say anything without sounding like a dumb, inexperienced teenager, so I just stayed quiet, trying to keep from shaking.

"See, Number One is kissing, making out," Sheila continued, casually smoothing her hands down her lean, toned thighs. Her legs parted, not lewdly, but more than would be casual. I watched her fingers as they brushed the edges of her tiny boy shorts. Once again, my eyes were riveted to her barely-concealed, bulging pubic mound. "But we already did that," she added coyly.

My mouth felt dry. I forced my eyes up her body, to see her staring at me. She looked expectant. "So . . ." I cleared my throat. "Um . . . what's Number Two?"

She smiled slowly, flashing her pearly teeth. "Masturbating."

"I've already done that," I blurted out, before my brain could keep my lips from moving. I felt heat in my cheeks as I blushed again.

"Oh, really?" she asked, sitting up and turning to face me, leaning closer and pushing those gorgeous little breasts out toward me. "Do you fantasize about me when you jack off, Nate?"

I was embarrassed, flushed, hot in more ways than one. I couldn't meet her gaze, feeling almost ashamed at my partial admission. I flinched slightly when she touched my chin with her fingers and leaned closer still.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you that I've fantasized about fucking you?" she asked in a soft, sultry whisper.

I caught my breath, feeling my heart taking tumbles in my chest. She didn't really just say that, did she? Holy shit, I'm only twenty years old and I think I'm going to have a heart attack . . . .

I heard and felt her moving closer, insinuating herself before me. I realized my eyes were closed as I felt the heat of her body, the soft warm breath, flavored with caramel liquor, bathing my lips before I felt hers press against mine. She moaned softly as we kissed again, and I moaned back. Sheila was a little more aggressive this time, pushing me back in my seat and laying across my torso. She licked and sucked my lips, then kissed all around my chin and neck. Her hair was fine as gossamer as it flowed across my skin.

Finally, Sheila eased off, supporting herself over me. "Look at me, Nate."

I opened my eyes, hesitantly, not sure if I would see an angel hovering over me, or a bat-winged succubus. But it was just Sheila, existing somewhere in between those two extremes. She smiled sweetly, biting her lower lip. "Do you wanna see me naked?" she asked.

I breathed in, trembling at the highest peak of arousal I had ever experienced. Her eyes seemed to lend me the strength I needed to voice my desires. "God, yes," I said back.

Her hand smoothed down my chest, just to the edge of my jeans. "Well, I'm not getting naked unless you do," she said.

"Are you serious?" I asked, still feeling that nagging fear that I might be getting set up.

But Sheila's seductive smile remained. "Tell you what," she said, straightening. She cupped her breasts, her fingers slipping beneath the edge of her top. She slowly pulled the frilly pink garment down. "How's this for starters?"

I watched, my mouth watering as her lightly-tanned breasts came into view. As I had deduced, they were sublimely, perfectly round, as if a sphere had been sliced down the middle and the two halves attached to her chest. Jutting out from the middle of those poetry-inspiring mounds were stiff, dark pink nipples surrounded by the tiniest of areolas.

Sheila watched my face as she brushed her thumbs across her nipples, making them dance a little as they hardened and grew. She glanced down upon them, admiring them with a smile. Then, erotically, she cupped them firmly and pushed her breasts up, while tilting her head down and slipping her tongue out. I groaned as I watched Sheila lick her own nipples.

"You like that, baby?" she whispered, returning her devilish gaze to mine.

My cock was, by this point, insistently punching against my jeans. "Oh, fuck," I moaned.

Sheila giggled, then swiftly crossed her arms and pulled her top over her head, sliding the sleeves off her arms. She let it fall to the floorboard and sat, proudly and unashamedly topless, in my car. She pressed her hands together in her lap, her upper arms framing her cleavage, and gave me a pouting look. "Your turn," she cooed.

This wasn't a game, I finally realized. This wasn't a tease. Well, not in the accepted sense. Sheila was teasing me, but with the implied promise of the sweetest of rewards if I played along. With that realization, I felt emboldened, empowered. For whatever reason, Sheila wanted me, and I would be damned if I didn't do whatever it took to make my fantasies about her come true.

"My turn," I echoed with a smile, and sat up, pulling my shirt from my jeans. Sheila watched, her eyes blazing with excitement and interest as I pulled off my shirt. I tossed it in the back seat, let Sheila get a good look at my chest. I was a fairly stocky guy, but I kept in shape. Sheila certainly seemed to approve of my natural musculature and rounded shoulders, my somewhat tapered waist.

"Damn, you're sexy, Nate," she breathed, licking her lips. Her gaze settled on the obvious bulge in my jeans. She grinned. "I wanna see it."

I shuddered slightly. "Really?"

Sheila looked back to my face quickly, and she grinned. "Me first, right?"

I grinned back. "Sure."

Sheila glanced around outside the car, for the first time evidencing the slightest apprehension about what we were doing. But she didn't hesitate as she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her shorts and rolled back on the seat, curling her long, strong thighs toward her chest. In a swift move, accompanied by girlishly excited giggles, Sheila slid her shorts along her thighs down her leather-clad calves, off the rounded tips of her boots.

She wasn't wearing anything under them, which Sheila unabashedly revealed as she lowered her legs and parted them. I was glad for the fortuitous, if minimal, light at that moment. Her sleek pubic mound shone softly, revealing that Sheila left a single thin strip of hair just above her clitoris. Her vulva were puffy and baby-smooth, slightly parted to reveal the slender, sleek, coral-colored lips within.

"Like what you see?" she asked heatedly, then turned toward me, lifting her legs. She settled one booted foot on the headrest of my seat, rest the other on the dash before my steering wheel. Her glistening pink cunt parted wetly before my gaze. I was transfixed by the sight. The aroma of her excited sex permeated the air in the car. She smelled divine.

"Oh my God, you're gorgeous," I muttered.

Sheila giggled and stroked her slick pussy, making the inner lips spread out like butterfly wings. Her clitoris swelled, slowly peeking out from beneath the thick hood. She framed it with her fingers, spreading herself open for my inspection. "You're just saying that because I'm showing you my pussy," she said playfully.

"No, I always thought you were gorgeous," I said, staring at Sheila's brazenly exposed cunt and rubbing myself through my jeans.

"Do I turn you on, Nate?"

I suddenly laughed, watching her fingers becoming wet and shiny as she stroked her near-hairless pussy. "You really have to ask?"

"Show me," she urged, then lifted her hand to her face, staring into my eyes as she sucked on her slippery fingers. Her eyes fluttered a moment as she tasted her own nectar. "Show me how hard your cock is."

I was gone by that point. Taken in and seduced by Sheila's sexuality, lost to any control I may have had over myself. But really, did I want to be in control? It was such a delicious turn-on to do what Sheila wanted, to follow her lead and let myself be guided. For, surely, there could be only pleasure in the future if I did so.

Eagerly, I unsnapped and unzipped my jeans, curling up a little as I shoved them down to my knees. Sheila stared openly at my cock as it bobbed out, so hard that it hovered above my abdomen. Even in such dim light, the glistening bulb of moisture at the tip was noticeable.

"Oh, baby," she swooned. "Damn, that's beautiful."

I moaned, automatically wrapping my hand around my shaft. I had never heard my cock described as 'beautiful' before, but I was not about to argue with Sheila. Especially since, the moment I exposed myself to her, she began rubbing her slippery cunt with real purpose.

"Stroke it, baby," Sheila urged me, massaging her plump lips and stiff clit with more and more insistence. She seemed riveted to the sight of my hard dick. "Jack that gorgeous fucking cock . . . ."

Even with the alcohol I had imbibed, I was more turned on than I could remember. I stared at Sheila, watching the way she lay against the passenger door of my car, madly rubbing and stroking her pussy, her face contorted with pleasure, her free hand massaging and pinching her breasts. I jacked my cock faster and faster, inhaling the pure, rich aroma of her aroused pussy. I wanted to lean over, dive in, taste the sweet fluid as it seeped from the source. But that was against the rules, I somehow understood.

"Nate!" she gasped. "Oh, baby! Are you gonna cum?" she asked breathlessly, now slipping a slick finger deep inside her hole, fucking herself madly. The smacking noises of her palm against her mound filled the car. Sheila was so wet that the insides of her thighs, the firm cheeks of her ass, literally dripped with fluid.

I was masturbating at a lightning pace, squeezing the head of my cock on each upstroke as my other hand kneaded my balls. "I'm close!" I gasped.

"Oh, yeah! Yeah! YEAH!" She shrieked, then arched her back off the seat, thrusting her saturated cunt into the air. And just as she erupted, gasping and moaning and crying and panting, the sky outside the car was filled with the explosive bursts of multi-colored fireworks.

I barely registered them as I felt my own orgasm roar through me with the power and intensity of a tidal wave. I lifted my own hips off the seat, squeezing my dick tightly as I felt the pulses of fluid race through it. I managed to announce that I was cumming just before the thick spurts of pent-up cream gushed out. I watched Sheila's flushed face as she witnessed the lances of sperm that shot from my cock onto my chest and abdomen.

"Oh, fuck!" she cried, then shuddered again, almost violently, digging two fingers deep inside her pussy and squeezing. She watched avidly as I stroked out every last spurt and dribble of semen. The last few drops oozed down over my fingers. My mind was heady with pleasure. Never did I think it would be so intense to masturbate with a woman, watching each other cum.

We finally settled down, regaining our breath. The windows had become steamy, I suddenly noticed. Outside, fireworks continued to explode high overhead, painting a kaleidoscope upon our sweaty, naked, satisfied bodies.

Sheila uncurled her legs and leaned across me, smothering me with another deep kiss. I kissed her back, licking deep in her mouth. She broke the kiss and leaned back just a little, staring into my eyes. "Happy New Year, Nate," she whispered.

I chuckled. "Hell, yeah, it is," I responded.

Sheila giggled, then suddenly grabbed my hand and sucked on my fingers, cleaning them of cum. She smiled upon me with heavy eyes, a thick dollop of cream decorating her chin. She smacked her glossy lips. "Mmm," she moaned softly, breathing out. She ran her hand across my stomach, smearing it with my thick seed. "Can we stay naked like this, until the fireworks are over?" she asked, cuddling against me.

I ran my hand across her naked, narrow back, reaching her firm cheeks and giving them a squeeze. "You think I'm stupid?"

Sheila laughed, nuzzling my chest. "Mmm," she moaned softly. "I can't wait for Number Three."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked.

Sheila lifted her head and smiled up at me. "Uh-huh," she said softly. "That's where we masturbate each other."

My cock twitched, despite being spent. "Really?"

She bit her lip, then kissed me on the lips. "But that's for next time, baby."

I brushed Sheila's bangs with my fingers. "When's the next time?"

She rolled her shoulders slowly. "I guess . . . the next time we work together," she said.

To be continued . . . .



By The Numbers Ch. 02



The next time we work together.

Sheila's words echoed in my mind for days after that incredible New Years' Eve. I couldn't wait to see her again, to admire her exquisite body, to share the kink she had introduced to me. It was one thing to anticipate the delights of a potential lover, to experiment with what she did and did not like during that first night of lovemaking. But Sheila was taking that sensation to an entirely new level, protracting the exploration, while at the same time maximizing the pleasure of each step we took.

I still had questions, of course. Questions about Sheila and her attorney boyfriend. From all I had observed, her beau made Sheila happy. I had even learned that Sheila had been expecting a proposal from him for a while. But, contradicting that happy image was Sheila's revelation that they had been fighting. And if that was not the case, then why would Sheila spend New Years' Eve with me, masturbating together in my car, with the hint – hell, the implied promise – of furthering our sexual relationship?

But, if I had learned only one thing about Sheila, it was that she was a woman who wanted to call the shots. She would reveal to me only what she wanted, and no amount of insistence on my part would gain me any further knowledge. Indeed, I had the impression that, if I pushed too hard, Sheila would close herself off, and our fun would come to an end. I was at least intelligent enough to know that any continued pleasure Sheila and I might share depended upon my ability to play her game.

After that New Years' Eve, Sheila was absent from work for nearly a week. I learned, casually, through our managers and her friends, that Sheila had requested the first through the fifth of January off over two months before. Something about taking a trip with her boyfriend.

I tried not to feel jealous, but I couldn't help it. I felt that Sheila and I had shared something intimate, something special, something that was a beginning. Yet, the day after we had pleasured ourselves before one another, she was off . . . with him?

The illicit and hidden nature of our tryst demanded that I keep quiet about it. How could I brag to anyone that I, Nathan Briggs, had spent New Years' Eve masturbating in my car with the one and only Sheila Kareides? No one would believe me, I knew. Maybe that was what Sheila had wanted. A tease, a tryst, a little fooling around with the one guy she knew she could control through her sexuality.

By the time Sheila came back to work, I was morose, despondent, and thoroughly cold to her. I avoided her like the plague when we worked, and didn't even look her in the eye. I was a little surprised that Sheila seemed hurt by the way I treated her, and in a way, I even enjoyed it. She tried to corner me now and then, tried to make casual conversation. But I spurned her at every turn.

I wanted her, of course. Hell, I dreamed about her every damn night, replaying that night in my car, making events escalate to the point where she sucked me of, or I went down on her, or she fucked me with total abandon and told me she loved me. But my stupid male pride, wounded as it was, kept me cold and distant.

Less than two weeks into the New Year, it was a typical Friday night. I was busy enough that I didn't have much time to think about Sheila, even though she was in the section next to mine and we brushed against each other now and then throughout the night. The following Monday was the beginning of the new semester, so I also had that to occupy me. My junior year was important, as I was taking only classes geared toward my History major. So I found solace in concentrating my thoughts on ancient Greek stories and myths, on the legends of the Spartans and Phoenicians.

That night, I finally found time to take a smoke break just after ten o'clock, after having been flooded by guests since five. The relatively calm and cool air of the back loading dock was welcome after the five hectic hours I had experienced. Surprised to be alone, but also thankful for it, I lit up and enjoyed that sweet rush of nicotine.

I barely heard the door from the kitchen as it opened, then closed. I simply stared up at the dark, star-filled sky overhead, trying to think of anything other than the way Sheila's tendons stood out on the insides of her lean thighs as she spread them, the way her pussy split open wetly like a fish's mouth, the way her aroma swirled around me like a sexual maelstrom . . . .

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes a moment, the only reaction I had at the moment to the sound of Sheila's voice, the knowledge of her presence. "Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I should be happy that you wanted to play around with me before going back to your boyfriend." My reply was not as insulting and bitter as I had fantasized; now that I could finally confront Sheila about my feelings . . . I was still the 'nice guy.'

She was quiet for a long moment. I didn't look at her; instead, I smoked my cigarette, holding it between slightly-shaking fingers.

"Okay," she said at last, stepping around me toward the far wall of the small enclosure. "I guess I deserved that. But I wanna tell you something, Nate."

I flicked ash off my cigarette, watching it fall to the ground. "What's that?"

I heard her breathe in, then let it out shakily. "I meant what I said."

I pulled on my cigarette. "Did you?"

She laughed harshly. "Fine," she said bitingly. "You wanna be a dick about it, go right ahead. But don't forget that I wanted to give you everything, and you fucked it up."

She stormed past me, tossing her barely-smoked cigarette away, and reached for the door.

"Sheila," I said, finally letting my eyes see her. She hesitated at the door, ready to jerk it open. I took a deep breath, admiring her in a both a purely carnal way, as well as affectionately. "I still want you," I said. "That'll never change. I just don't know if I can handle being . . . the other guy."

Sheila's hard face, in profile to me, softened. Her eyes reddened slightly, her lips parted. "You really amaze me, Nate," she said, then looked to me for a moment, her face full of emotion and vulnerability. Then she pulled open the door and stepped inside.

As before, I was left with more questions than answers.

***

It was a little after midnight when I trudged out to my car, weary and tired and looking forward to the warmth of my bed and maybe some good Internet porn to jack off to. Thoughts of mine and Sheila's tantalizing tryst had compelled me to seek out and download clips of girls masturbating in cars, and doing even more than that.

Just as I unlocked the door of my car, I heard a soft voice in the darkness. "Hey."

I recognized Sheila's voice instantly, loving the soft lilt she possessed even as it made me cringe. I pulled the key from the lock, popped open the door, paused. I did not turn around. "Hey."

I heard her step up behind me, stiffened for a moment as Sheila pressed her nubile body against mine. I felt her warm, moist breath in my ear, just before her tongue flickered out. "I really missed you."

I could have been strong, could have held to my reserve. I could have pushed her away, gotten in my car and driven home. But I didn't. Sheila felt delicious, especially as her hands slid around to the front of my jeans and began tugging on the top button.

"I . . . I have, too," I admitted.

Sheila's hands separated the coarse fabric of my jeans and slid inside. I had not worn underwear since I was sixteen. I breathed in as I felt the tips of her fingers thread through my thick pubic curls. They slipped around the shaft of my rapidly-growing cock, caressed my sweat-dampened balls. Sheila giggled softly in my ear, kissed the side of my neck. "I can tell," she said breathily, then pulled her hands free and stepped around to the passenger side of my car.

I really did not have much choice. My libido was doing all the thinking for me. I got behind the wheel, leaned across to unlock the passenger door. Sheila slid in quickly, closing the door as she gave me an impish smile. "You know where to go," she said meaningfully.

***

I was all but literally shaking with anticipation as I parked the car in the same field outside the Air Force base. This time, however, there were no other cars around. Only the distant stark lights of the airfield, the hazy glow of the city around us. There seemed to be more light shining through the windows of my car, but perhaps that was only because there were no other vehicles around to cast shadows our way.

Sheila gave me a wicked grin as she popped open the passenger-side door. "Come on," she urged, then stepped out of the car. I frowned for a moment, wondering what she was thinking, or planning. Sheila left the door open, facing away from me, letting me get an unobstructed view as she unsnapped and unzipped her jeans. She bent straight-legged at the waist and shimmied them down her lean, tanned thighs. As before, she wore no panties.

Oh, Jesus, I groaned inwardly, my eyes riveted to Sheila's perfect ass, the plump, shadowed lips beneath her cheeks. She seemed to take her time getting out of her work shoes and the tiny ankle socks she wore. Nude from the waist down, she straightened and turned, giving me an impish grin accompanied by a wiggle of her thin, arched brows. She beckoned me with the seductive curl of a finger.

I took a breath, intimidated – yet also exhilarated – by the idea of being naked, outdoors, with Sheila. I decided not to think about what we were doing, or if we might get caught. I had to trust Sheila if I wanted to sample her once more.

I jumped out of the car, coming around the front as Sheila dropped her work polo and undershirt to the ground. Aside from her necklace, earrings, and navel charm, she was totally, deliciously, sublimely naked, standing with her legs slightly parted, hands on her hips, those perfect little breasts thrusting out toward me.

"Uh-uh, cowboy," she said. "Not another step unless you're nekkies."

I breathed in, looking around. I couldn't see anything even resembling a human being, car, or whatever, for at least a couple hundred yards, yet still, the simple idea of exposure was practically frightening. At the same time, I was conscious of the fact that, if I followed Sheila's rules, if I played her game . . . the risk would be worth it. So, staring at her inspiring naked body, I began undoing my belt.

Sheila bit her lip, eyes smoldering sensuously. She stepped closer, watching me push my jeans down and step out of my shoes. Her firm rear slid onto the hood of my car, and she leaned back on one hand, parting her legs and stroking the little tuft of hair on her pubic mound. Her nipples swelled and darkened in the cool night air.

"Mmm, Nate," she moaned softly, her eyes fixated on my cock. It was fully erect, jutting out from between my legs. "Did I tell you that you have a gorgeous dick?"

I chuckled, pulling my shirt off and dropping it to the ground. The cool, wet grass crunched a bit under my feet as I moved closer. Automatically, I grasped my shaft and began sliding my hand back and forth. "You might have mentioned it," I said.

Sheila's glowing eyes lifted to mine. "Ready for Number Three, baby?" she asked heatedly.

I nodded slowly, feeling the heat radiating from her. Even with the stiff, cold breeze, I could smell Sheila's ambrosial pussy. I suddenly realized that she was going to let me touch it . . . play with it . . . feel it.

Sheila leaned back on both hands now, lifting her legs above the hood of the car, spreading them wide. Her sleek pink lips glistened wetly. I had no doubt that she was turned on, as intoxicated as I was by the situation. "Get on your knees, Nate," she said with a sexy grin. She licked her lips slowly.

I obeyed like an automaton, approaching closer, then dropping to my knees on the cold grass. Sheila's raised and bent legs made her tendons stand out, catching the light from the airfield and once again drawing my attention to her sleek, hairless lips. The dusky pink of her cunt glittered like wet sands at the ocean's edge. Even her perineum and the tiny, shadowed bud of her anus were slick. Her aroma was stronger, now that my face was less than a foot from that succulent treasure.

"Just remember, baby, we have all night," Sheila whispered. "There's no need to rush."

I nodded mutely, glancing up briefly to her flushed, glowing face. "I want to touch you," I said.

She smiled demurely, and slowly settled her naked feet on my shoulders. Her thighs splayed even more widely apart. Her vulva opened like a mouth, the sleek labia parting stickily. Sheila's clit was already engorged, filling out the dark sheath in which it lay. I could practically see it move under the fleshy blanket.

"Then touch me, Nate," she whispered huskily. Her breath was ragged. "Anywhere you want. But just your hands, baby. Just your hands."

My twenty-year-old brain experienced a sudden flash of insight. My impulse was to dive in, shove a finger up inside her and feel the heat and tightness of Sheila's pussy. But I realized I had the chance to really savor her body, to explore it in ways I never had done with a girl before. I decided to make the most of it.

I placed my hands on the insides of Sheila's knees, feeling the heat of her skin. I watched her face, the rise and fall of those exquisite breasts, the flexing of Sheila's muscles beneath the skin of her abdomen, the rolling motion of her pelvis. Her pussy lips seemed to gape now, as if opening on their own and enticing me inside.

"Oh, yes," moaned Sheila, her eyes closing, head falling back. She breathed in and out heatedly through her mouth, whimpering as my hands smoothed further up the insides of her thighs. "God, Nate, I'm so hot!"

Hell, yeah, you are, I thought. My hands seemed drawn by the heat of Sheila's pussy, but just before the tips of my thumbs touched her bulging lips, I slid my hands up to her pelvis, along her narrow, taut abdomen to her breasts. I leaned in, all but pressing my chest between her splayed thighs. Her heat nearly burned my skin. Her aroma surrounded me.

"Hmmm, Baby . . . ." she murmured, sighing and hissing as my hands caressed her naked breasts. She breathed heatedly as I massaged those firm mounds. Her nipples slipped between my fingers. I squeezed and lightly pinched them, making Sheila gasp. "Harder," she breathed.

So I did, pulling on her nipples, watching her body undulate in response. I took each of the dark, thick nubs in my fingers and pulled them away from her body, watching her breasts stretch. Sheila bucked and cried out, arching her back. She ground her ass against the hood of my car, scooting down a little until the hot, moist lips of her pussy were pressed against my chest. I trembled at the feel of her slick flesh sliding up and down on my chest, her stiff clit mashed against my sternum.

Sheila's thighs trembled, and she dug her heels into my back, keeping me where I was (not that I was about to move). She writhed and moaned, and I felt her wetness seeping down to my abdomen. Her open mouth worked like a goldfish's. Her fingers scraped the hood of my car.

I couldn't help myself. She smelled just so damn good, and I was so turned on . . . I lowered my head, and licked the inside of her left thigh, tasting the fresh, tart flavor of her fluid. I moaned, and sucked just at the junction of thigh and pubis, feeling her soft, bulging vulva against my cheek. My tongue snaked out, searching the edges of those sweet, quivering lips . . . .

Sheila's fingers were suddenly threading through my hair, pulling at my head. I sighed in disappointment as I was denied the chance to drink from the fountain, and looked up to Sheila's inflamed face.

"Just hands, baby," she said with a husky lick of her lips, which flared around her clenched teeth. "Finger me."

Those words made my libido soar. Finger me . . . I had never had a girl say such a thing to me before, nor had I ever been so intoxicated by a woman in my life. I was, needless to say, inspired.

"Get on your hands and knees," I said.

Sheila's eyes flashed excitedly. "Just hands, okay?" she reminded me, scooting up on the hood and turning over. I groaned at the sight of this beautiful woman as she positioned herself on all fours. Her rich skin seemed more pale in the distant light and the faint glow of the moon overhead. She arched her back and looked over her shoulder at me, nibbling her lower lip. "Go for it, baby," she cooed.

I smiled back, admiring the firmness of her cheeks, the puffy vulva of her pussy and the slink, shiny lips of her slit. Her tiny asshole all but winked at me. I couldn't help but feel blessed.

Sheila purred when my hands caressed her round cheeks. She swayed a little on her hands and knees, hissing as I pulled her cheeks apart, making her cunt split open with a faint wet sound. I inhaled her scent, bringing my face as close as I could without my lips touching her. How I had the will to resist fastening my mouth to those succulent folds, I couldn't fathom.

"Mmm, yeah, Nate, that's it," sighed Sheila, feeling my fingers rubbing her glossy, warm lips. I couldn't believe I was actually touching Sheila's pretty pussy. The heat emanating from her was incredible. I massaged her vulva for a moment, pinching them together, then spreading them wide apart. Sheila moaned again.

I didn't need to suck my fingers to get them wet, but I did so anyway, tasting her sublime flavor. Oh, how heavenly! Musky, sweet, tangy and just a little bitter. Nectar of Aphrodite, I thought, then returned my fingers to her cunt. I slowly pushed the tips of two fingers against her tight entrance.

"Yes!" gasped Sheila, pushing back against me. "Fuck me, baby . . . fuck me with your fingers . . . ."

I was transfixed by the sight of Sheila's pussy stretching around my invading digits, sucking them in. I felt the muscles gripping my fingers tightly, rippling and pulling. I exposed her clit with the fingers of my other hand, and touched it with my thumb, just as my fingers were buried to the third knuckle. Sheila jumped, then purred again.

"So good, baby, so good. Go on, do it. Fuck me. Fuck my pussy!"

Her dirty talk spurred me on. I slid my fingers back, almost vacating her tunnel, watching the way her labia billowed out like the petals of a blooming flower, then pushed back in, going just as deep as before. I moved my fingers around inside her, massaging her clit all the while. Her juices flowed freely, dripping over my hand and down her thighs.

I plunged in, again and again, increasing the speed and rhythm until my knuckles were smacking wetly against her pussy. Sheila bucked, gasping loudly, her breath leaving her quivering lips in shuddering puffs. She rolled her hips insistently, lowered her shoulders to the hood. Her pussy clenched my fingers tightly, making me anticipate the feel of that same snug cave around my cock.

I felt and watched her body trembling, and the way she was panting and moaning, I figured she was getting close to orgasm. Or maybe she had already cum, the way she was dripping. I honestly wasn't sure, but I wasn't going to stop either way.

A thought flashed into my head, and I went with it. I pulled my fingers from her pussy, sucked on them for a moment. Sheila was breathing heavily, giggling softly as she remained where she was. "Done already?" she asked, brushing hair from her face and lifting up to look back at me. Jesus, was she gorgeous, with her face positively glowing, her body glistening with sweat.

I smiled up at her, tasting her rich essence. "Not yet," I responded, returning my fingers to her hole. Sheila giggled again, watching me with a slack expression on her face. But this time, as well as the two fingers I inserted into her tunnel, I pressed my ring finger against her anus. Sheila caught her breath, clamping her mouth and biting down on her lower lip. She moaned as I slowly penetrated her ass.




By The Numbers Ch. 02



"Oh, God . . . ." she moaned, hanging her head. Her body shook. I pushed my fingers in deeper, until her cunt and ass were both filled as deeply as my fingers could reach. I held them there for a long moment, rubbing her stiff clit – damn, it was even bigger now, swollen to the girth of a pen – with the fingertips of my other hand.

"Like that?" I asked her.

"Mmm . . . fuck, yes," she whispered heatedly. "Make me cum, Nate. Please, oh God please make me cum . . . ."

I grinned. I was in control, now. I was calling the shots. Sheila's pleasure was mine to control, and that was even more arousing than what I was doing. I pumped into her holes faster and faster, feeling two sets of muscles squeezing and tugging my fingers. Sheila grunted and cried out when I added my little finger to the one in her ass, and slapped her hand onto the hood of the car.

"Fuck, Nate!" she yelled. "I'm gonna cum! Don't stop, baby, I'm gonna cum!"

I plunged into her fiercely, finger-fucking Sheila with the speed and force of a jackhammer. My hand smacked her ass on impulse, and Sheila bucked, whimpering, moaning, and vibrating like a tremolo. Again and again, my firm hand slapped against quivering flesh, earning a yelp each time. Those beautiful cheeks glowed with crimson hand prints by the time she erupted, screeching her orgasm to the world.

Sheila pushed up to the limits of her arms and shoved her hips back at me, almost making me stumble back. But I doubt her pussy and ass would have let me go; they were so tight around my fingers, I was afraid they would break. Still, for good measure, I clutched her thigh with my left hand, holding her to me.

Accompanied by quaking aftershocks, Sheila eventually began to relax. I didn't move my fingers other than to adjust them and insure they were still attached to my hand. Sheila straightened and half-turned, her face hazy and eyes glazed. Her breath was hot on my face as she slipped her arm around me and kissed me deeply.

"S-slowly," she whispered. "P-pull them out . . . s-slowly . . . ."

I did as she asked, withdrawing my fingers gently. Sheila jolted a couple of times before I recovered my cum-drenched hand. I flexed my fingers experimentally, finding them slick, borderline bruised, but still functional.

"I, um . . . need a sec," mumbled Sheila mumbled, turning around fully and sitting on the car's hood. She sagged against me, her chin on my head she held me close and recovered her breath. Her small breasts were ready for my lips, and I kissed them while massaging her thighs and back. The moment was so intimate, so perfect and satisfying. I honestly would have been happy ending the night right then.

But Sheila was not about to forget about me. She pulled me up, kissed my lips. "Why don't you lay back?" she asked, dark eyes glittering wantonly.

I groaned with anticipation and rolled onto my back on the hood, propped up on my elbows. Sheila settled into a squat between my legs, eyeing my engorged cock. It bobbed out toward her face, and she grinned, nibbling her tongue. Warm, sublime hands captured me, one wrapping around my thick shaft, the other cradling my swollen balls. I sighed at the touch of her massaging fingers.

"Oh, baby," she breathed out. "I've been looking forward to this."

I squirmed under her touch. "Me, too," I croaked.

Sheila giggled softly, then shifted as she got comfortable. Her right hand squeezed my shaft firmly, pumping up and down. Her left rolled my balls, massaging them and pushing them up now and then. A broad smile stretched her lips as my dick leaked a steady flow of clear, sticky fluid that made her hand smack wetly as she masturbated me.

"Damn, I don't even have to spit on it, do I?" she commented rhetorically.

"God, that feels good," I moaned, watching her hands flutter up and down. She would squeeze tightly on each upstroke, massage the head with her thumb and make me squirm. Sometimes, she would use both hands together, and despite the fact that she did not need to, spit on my cock now and then. Her eyes flashed back and forth from my cock to my face, and she smiled the entire time, anticipating my eruption.

My body jerked, spasming beneath her ministrations. My hips pushed out toward Sheila, making my cock thrust closer to her face. The head bumped her lips briefly, leaving a thick line of fluid that stretched from cock to mouth. Aroused as I was, my release was not going to take long.

Sheila sensed this, and stroked my dick faster and faster, squeezing it harder. One hand shoved my balls against the base of my shaft, the other raked her smallish nails around the base of my cock. Her face was a mask of wicked eagerness as she realized she was about to bring me off.

"Are you you're gonna shoot, baby?" she whispered, her parted lips hovering just above the crown of my straining cock.

"Soon!" I grunted. "Oh, God!"

Sheila pumped faster and faster on my cock, her tight grip making wet smack-smack-smack sounds, her eyes giving me a pleading look. "Ooo, come on, baby! Cum on me! Shoot it all over my face!"

On your face? Oh, fuck . . . that did it for me. I gasped and groaned, shoving my hips out, pushing my cock over Sheila's gorgeous face . . . .

My cock pulsed in her little hand, launching thick salvos of creamy white fluid that spurted into her hair, on her forehead, nose, upper lip, and chin. Sheila grinned at the feel of my heavy, warm cum, and turned her head a bit, letting a few thick gobs land on her cheeks, chin, and right on those heavenly lips. Some of it even disappeared in her mouth, yet still Sheila grinned.

I bucked in the throes of my orgasm, watching droplets of fluid falling to her upturned breasts and slender thighs below. Sheila laughed and cooed all the while, tugging on my dick, squeezing it almost painfully to get every last drop of semen.

Finally, she let go of my cock and eased back, looking down at her cum-speckled body. Thick tendrils of semen dangled from her chin, and more ran down her neck, making the valley between her breasts glisten. Sheila giggled, and ran her hands over herself, smearing my seed into her skin. From her face and neck to her abdomen and thighs, she literally glowed with the thin wet film of my cum.

Sitting up straight, Sheila gave me a naughty look as she licked her gooey hands and sucked on shiny wet fingers. "That was hot, Nate," she cooed.

I groaned, falling back on the hood. "Holy shit . . . ."

***

Sheila steered the conversation as we lay upon reclined seats in my car, her body snuggled against mine and her fingers tickling the hairs of my abdomen. I caught on pretty quick that any mention of her boyfriend was off-limits. I might have insisted that I know what was going on, if what she was doing with me was some sort of prelude to a relationship, or if she really did just want to fool around and had no plans to leave her boyfriend. But I did not. I held my tongue, keeping to the place where Sheila, it seemed, had decided I belonged.

My ego may have found affront with that. After all, the basic male instinct was to be the one in charge. But when you're a twenty-year-old kid, and a gorgeous, naked woman is laying beside you and running her hands all over the place . . . well, fuck ego. The Id was in control.

Instead, we talked about work, sharing the latest gossip about who was sleeping with who, who was going to get fired, who we thought was stealing steaks from the walk-in cooler. We touched a little on her life outside her relationship, but Sheila was cagey with what she let me know. The only items of substance I learned concerned her father and his second wife (Sheila refused to call 'the busty bitch' "mom") and Sheila's kid brother Roman, who was nineteen and serving his first tour in Iraq. Sheila was afraid for him, though she tried to hide it by saying how handsome he looked in his uniform.

We eventually dressed and I fired up the car. While my fluid had soaked into her skin by that point, the aroma of cum still surrounded her. She seemed to like it, and I came to the conclusion that Sheila had something of a cum fetish. Fine with me, I thought.

It was a good twenty or thirty minute drive back to the restaurant, where Sheila had left her car. She spent the time giving me a long, luxurious handjob, giggling now and then as we realized I was driving too slow, or when I missed an exit from the highway. I finally came again, coating Sheila's fingers with my second load after I had parked next to her car. She kept squeezing and milking my shaft to get it all out, then rewarded me with a sweet kiss and a whispered good-bye.

"Oh, by the way, Nate," she said, leaning in through the open door. She eyed my spent cock, laying deflated upon my abdomen. "Next time is Number Four."

I breathed in. "Number Four?"

Sheila grinned, then slipped a single finger, oozing with cum, into her mouth. She sucked on it suggestively for a moment, mimicking a blowjob, and smacked her lips. "Number Four," she whispered huskily, then closed the door.

I watched Sheila stroll to her car, avidly licking and sucking her fingers clean of my sticky sperm. What an incredible, kinky, sexy and mysterious woman she was. She gave me a playful wave before disappearing into her car and starting the engine. I waited until she was gone before turning the key.

Number Four, I thought as I drove home. I can't wait.

To be continued . . . .



By The Numbers Ch. 03



I still had a lot of questions about my relationship, such as it was, with Sheila that Saturday morning. I awoke feeling more refreshed than I had been since breaking up with my last girlfriend, but as satisfied as my libido was, my heart and mind were in turmoil. Was I just a plaything for Sheila? Or was this whole 'by the numbers' thing her way of auditioning potential boyfriends?

I worked the lunch shift that day. Saturday lunches always started off slow, since it was a day that most of our guests had off. The rush really didn't hit until about one in the afternoon, but once it did, we were quickly filled to capacity and even had a short waiting list for tables. I was glad to keep busy; it kept my thoughts away from the anticipation of further delights from Sheila.

Around four o'clock, I finally had a moment to myself. My relief was due to come on soon, and the four tables I had were all eating, with full drinks and all the secondary condiments they had asked for. With the permission from the manager on duty, I headed out to the back dock for a smoke. Andi, a pretty and slightly chubby blonde girl, fellow server, and good friend, followed me.

"Crazy day, huh?" she asked as we both lit up.

I nodded, blowing smoke. "Good day, though," I said. "I figure I'll walk with a bill after tip-out."

Andi nodded. "Me, too," she said, then gave me a sly look and smile. "So, um, how was last night?"

I shrugged, not catching on to her expression. "Pretty good. I made about one-thirty, something like that."

Andi laughed softly, giving me a knowing look. "I meant . . . afterward," she said meaningfully.

I felt my heart jump slightly with anxiety, but tried to play it off with a casual shrug. "Um, afterward what?" I asked, feigning innocence. "I went home. Played some video games."

"Uh-huh," she responded, not buying my story. She laughed suddenly. "Geez, Nate, you're a great guy, but sometimes, you really can be dumb! I saw you hook up with Sheila! I watched her get in your car, and you guys took off."

I felt my face get hot. "It was dark," I said. "It was probably just her boyfriend, and—"

Andi sputtered. "Bull. Shit. Grant's, like, four inches taller than you and blonde. And he drives a freaking bad-ass Mercedes ragtop, not a ten-year-old Escort."

I said nothing as I smoked. I didn't look to Andi, afraid that my eyes would give me away.

"Look, Nate, I'm not gonna tell nobody," she said, recognizing how uncomfortable I was. "Okay, you guys wanna keep it on the down low, cool. I promise, I promise, I won't tell anybody. But . . . are you guys doing it?"

I suddenly laughed, needing some way to let the tension out. I felt suddenly like the lowly peon who was secretly pleasuring the Queen late at night. The weight of my secret was bearing down on me; I wanted to tell someone, if only to reaffirm to myself that my memories were real, and not some schizophrenic delusion. I felt I could trust Andi; we had become good friends since the day I started. She was almost ten years older, married with a couple kids. She often said she saw me as a kid brother.

"We, uh . . . spend time together," I said sheepishly, giving Andi a little smile.

"Hah!" she cried, bouncing on her feet. "I knew it! I could tell, they way you guys have been acting . . . ." She laughed for a moment, proud of herself for having guessed correctly. "So, um . . . does that mean you guys are, like, close? Or are you just fooling around?"

I took a deep breath, feeling my smile vanish. I shrugged. "I don't know, really," I said. "I'm pretty sure she's still with her boyfriend. We just . . . I guess it's just a casual thing."

Andi pursed her lips in thought. "Are you cool with that?"

I mulled her question over in my mind. Was I cool with it? "I guess," I said.

She stepped closer, touched my arm. "Nate, look. I think I've kind'a figured you out, at least a little, since you started. Sheila's the kind of girl who can have any guy she wants. And you're the kind of guy who's real choosy. When you like a girl, she's all you think about, right?"

I gritted my teeth. "Yeah. Pretty much."

Andi breathed in, smoked her cigarette. "I've known Sheila for over a year," she said. "Some things I like about her, some things I don't. I'm not gonna talk shit about her, but . . . just don't let her hurt you, Nate. She's not gonna leave her boyfriend. In fact, I'm pretty sure they're gonna get engaged soon."

I nodded, clenching my jaw. I did not want to hear Andi's words, even though they were the truth. In the little fantasy world I had begun to construct around Sheila and I, she was going to leave Mr. Lawyer and live happily ever after with me. We'd have sex five times a day and be blissfully happy, all the time. No fights, no headaches, nothing but sweet carnal pleasure, cuddling, and waking up together every morning.

But that was just fantasy. "Yeah, I know."

Andi sighed, rubbing my back reassuringly. "Hey, just . . ." she paused, searching her tongue. "It's obvious she wants to have some fun before taking that big step, right? So . . . have fun with her. Just don't take it seriously."

I closed my eyes a moment, feeling my shoulders slump. "That's the problem," I said. "I think I am taking it seriously."

***

I was left in a funky mood after my conversation with Andi. My bubble had been burst, so to speak, and while I knew it had to happen, I still was not happy about it. I returned to my tables, finished them up, then completed my sidework and checked out with the manager. 

It was about ten minutes before six when I headed toward my car. A cold front had blown in that morning, dropping temperatures by a good fifteen degrees. I wasn't shivering in the sixty-degree air, but I definitely felt it through my work shirt.

As I approached my little car, I noticed a very recognizable Toyota sedan parked before it, nose-to-nose. The driver-side door popped open, and Sheila stepped out. Her beautiful face was a mixture of arousal and amusement as she regarded me. "Hey, baby," she said sultrily.

I breathed in, trying to contain any of the outward signs of arousal I instantly felt when I saw my lover. "Hi."

She strolled around between our two cars, glancing about casually before she sidled up before me. Her cheeks, I noticed, were rosy. And not from makeup.

Without preamble, Sheila settled her lithe little body against mine and kissed me deeply, moaning softly all the while that she sucked on my lips and tongue. "Let's make it quick, baby, I'm on at six."

I swallowed nervously, looking around. Our restaurant sat within a busy outdoor mall. There were cars, and people, everywhere. Granted, I had parked beneath a tree, which provided some shelter, and my car, with its tinted windows, would hide Sheila and I from our shoulders down . . . still . . . .

"Here?" I asked, alarmed.

Sheila grinned up at me, then took a single step back while her hands busily unsnapped and unzipped her tight jeans. Uncaring in her partial nudity, Sheila pushed the tight denim halfway down her thighs, revealing a pair of light blue cotton panties that she pulled out and away from her crotch. I shuddered at the sight of her tiny dark strip, the thick hood of her clit framed by those puffy vulva.

My cock swelled in my jeans. Here we were, in the middle of the day, with Sheila exposing herself and obviously urging me to do the same. Our seclusion was afforded only by a tree and my car. Anyone walking by, looking at the right angle, would be able to see what we were doing.

And that idea, that fact, I realized, was the biggest part of the allure. I shook my head, even as I felt it swimming with my desire for Sheila's kink. "I can't believe I'm doing this," I said, undoing my jeans. I pushed them down, just a little, and my cock fell out. Sheila's hand was quick to catch it.

"Ooo, baby," she cooed, stroking me. She stepped closer, and rubbed the head of my dick across her pubic mound. My dick leaked pre-cum that glistened in the small strip of hair above her clit.

"Kiss me," Sheila urged, bringing her face close. She tugged more firmly on my cock, even tilted it down so that the head pressed against her hot, wet clitoris. I moaned into Sheila's mouth, and groped her breasts through her shirt.

"I want you to cum," Sheila panted, masturbating me urgently. Her breath was hot and moist in my ear. She nipped at my neck. "Do it, baby. Don't hold it. Cum for me."

I felt my release building, and moved my hands from her firm tits to her back. I pushed against her hands, fucking them, moving my hips back and forth. My fingers dug into her shoulders as I moaned my release.

"Oh, yeah, baby! Oooo . . . oh . . . ." Sheila tugged on my cock as my cum surged out, coating her pubic mound, flowing down over her puffy lips and soaking into the gusset of her panties. We both watched as drops of cum dripped from my dick and fell onto Sheila's pussy and underwear.

She grinned up at me. "I'm gonna be squishy all night, baby," she said, then kissed me again. She glanced around quickly, then ducked down and licked the head of my cock, capturing the last thick bubble of milky semen on her tongue. She smacked her lips, savoring the taste, then zipped up.

"Gotta go to work, baby," she said casually, then bounced past me toward the restaurant.

I was still breathing hard, all at once amazed and drained by what had just happened. A goofy laugh escaped my lips. I tucked my dick away, got in my car, and lit a cigarette.

***

I answered my phone on the second ring. I was halfway into my third beer – thank you, Mark! – and feeling pretty loose.

"Hello?"

"I'm still sticky."

I breathed in at the sound of Sheila's voice, and slid even more comfortably into the couch in my tiny apartment. "Oh, are you?"

"Uh-huh," she responded. "I could feel your cum all over my pussy, all night, soaking in . . . ."

I closed my eyes a moment, trying to contain my arousal. "You like that, huh?"

"I fucking love it, Nate." I heard some faint movement in the background. "I'm in my car, right now. Taking off my jeans. I haven't even left the parking lot. I'm just too hot."

My dick throbbed at the image her words provided. "Are you gonna get off right now?"

"Yes," she panted. "Oh, God, Nate, I can smell your cum. I'm so wet with it! It's all over my pussy!"

"Are you rubbing it in?" I asked.

"Mmm . . . yeah, I am. I'm pushing it in my pussy, baby. All that sticky, sweet cum . . . fuck, it tastes so good, too."

I trembled in arousal, stroking my dick. I was often naked in my apartment. "Can't believe you waited all night to taste it."

Sheila giggled. "I didn't," she said. I heard the wet, smacking, sucking sounds that indicated she was cleaning her fingers. "I went into the bathroom, soon as I got to work, put my hand in my jeans . . . damn, baby, you really shoot a huge load . . . mmmm . . . ."

"Did you lick your fingers?" I asked, my cock fully erect now as I stroked it.

"Of course," she said with a soft giggle. "Oh, Nate . . . I wish you were here. I wanna feel your fingers in my pussy again . . . fucking me . . . ."

"Come over," I said, pumping my dick.

Sheila avoided my suggestion, or perhaps she barely heard me. "I've got two fingers in my pussy, and one in my ass, Nate . . . just like when you were doing me . . . God! Right here, in the parking lot! Anyone could see me, baby!"

"Maybe they can, Sheila," I said, jacking my cock faster and faster. "Maybe they're watching you, right now. Guys rubbing themselves, looking in the windows—"

"Oh, God!" she cried. "You really think they'd do that?"

"Yes, baby," I said, fucking my dick harder and harder with my hand. "They'd all watch you finger your pussy."

"Oh-h-h, yeah," she groaned. I could faintly hear wet smacking sounds in the background, and imagined Sheila's legs spread wide, little feet braced against the dash, her fingers stabbing rapidly in and out of her swollen snatch . . . .

"In fact, I bet they'd surround your car, looking in, trying to get as close as possible," I continued, feeding to her obvious fantasy. "All those guys jerking off, fantasizing about you—"

"And girls?" Sheila asked heatedly. "Girls, too? Would they watch?"

"They'd touch themselves, too," I breathed, stroking my cock faster. "Put their hands right down their pants, or inside their shirts—"

"Oh, God yes," Sheila moaned. "Pushing their tits against the window . . . ." She trailed off, whimpering.

I followed a hunch. "Maybe they'd want you to roll down the window, so you could suck on them," I suggested.

"Oh, f-f-fuck . . . ." she growled. Her breathing quickened, sputtering into the phone. "Nate, baby . . . oh, baby . . . ."

The sweet, sexy urgency in her voice made my cock tingle. "Are you gonna cum?" I asked, pumping faster and harder.

"Yes, baby! Yes! Oh-h-h . . . ." I heard her moan and groan through her orgasm, punctuated by sharp little squeals of pleasure. Realizing she was climaxing, with our shared fantasy playing with Technicolor vividness in my mind, I came as well, splashing my stomach and hand.

For long moments, we listened to each other's breathing. Sheila moaned with satisfaction, making wet smacking and sucking noises. I realized she was licking and sucking her fingers clean once more.

"Nate?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yeah."

"Good night, baby," she whispered, then hung up. I felt a moment's pang of disappointment; I had hoped she would want to come over, maybe get to "Number Four." But Sheila, though I didn't realize at the time, was having just as much fun prolonging the pleasure as she was enjoying it. Part of what made our whole 'relationship' exciting for her was the fact that she controlled the where and when of our trysts. I was just an eager lap-dog willing to follow her around.

Not that I was really complaining . . . .

***

I didn't see Sheila for a few days. She did not work on Sundays, and with the start of classes, I went back to working only nights except on the weekends. Sheila had a choice schedule, getting only the 'money' shifts, which meant I did not see her until Wednesday night.

By then, of course, I was more than anxious to be with her again, but I tried not to be obvious about it when I arrived at Jersey Jack's at four o'clock. I had seen Sheila's car in the lot, and my heart had begun hammering instantly. The idea of moving from masturbating each other to tasting each other . . . I was almost trembling when I opened the doors and saw Sheila sitting at the usual employee table in the bar.

But being shy, quiet me, I didn't head toward her right away. I just caught her eye and smiled. She smiled back, then returned to her conversation with a couple of other servers, acting as if I was no more important to her than anyone else. That irked me a little bit, but then I thought, what is she supposed to do? Come running and hug me, right in front of everyone?

We got an early pop that night, going on wait around 5:30. I was glad for the business, because it kept my mind occupied. My new classes gave me much to think about as well; I already had one paper due in another week. Good thing I don't have a girlfriend, I remember thinking at one point. I wouldn't have time for her . . . .

Girlfriend, I thought with a frown. So what's Sheila? Just a . . . friend with benefits?

What is she, indeed . . . .

Abruptly, she was there, beside me at the beverage station, getting drink refills for her guests. She 'casually' rubbed against me, and gave me a quick, sly look and a smile. I instantly felt my libido respond. My cock twitched in my jeans. Thank God for aprons . . . .

"Working tomorrow night?" she asked as she filled a glass with Diet Coke.

"Um . . . no," I said after a moment's thought.

"Class?"

I sighed. "Of course."

"When are you done with class?"

"Uh . . . twelve-thirty."

Sheila nodded to herself, gave me another smile. "Cool," she said simply, then turned and headed back out to the dining room. I followed her with my eyes, mildly consternated. Oh, God, baby, don't make me wait another day!

"Hey, stud."

Andi's voice startled me. Feeling my cheeks redden, I looked away from my friend as she scooped ice into a glass. "Uh, hi."

She chuckled softly. "Nate."

"Yeah?"

"Wipe your chin. You're drooling all over the place."

***

Sheila left quickly that night. Did not even give me as much as a 'good night, Nate.' Around nine-thirty, I suddenly realized she was gone when a couple of the other girls were talking about meeting up with her and her boyfriend for drinks at a local bar. That put me in a sour mood.

All she had to do was tell me good night. Maybe a quick kiss, where no one would see us. But, no . . . had to rush off so she can be with Mr. Perfect. I got a sudden image of Sheila riding her boyfriend, telling him she loved him as they moaned and panted together . . . .

I got out of the restaurant as quickly as I could, turning down an offer of drinks at Cooty's from my friends. Instead, I went straight home to finish off the beer that my friend Mark had dropped off for me.

***

I was in a rush the following morning, having awakened late, and with a hangover, no less. I arrived for my first class ten minutes after it began, earning my professor's disapproving glare. It didn't help that I could still smell the beer on my breath, and others around me could, as well.

A few bottles of water, a couple of chicken soft tacos and an apple at the cafeteria helped with that, as well as the hangover. By the time I got out of my last class of the day, at 12:30, I was fully awake and no longer felt dehydrated. For once without Sheila on my mind – when on campus, I had a tendency to think of nothing but my classes – I made my way through the immense parking lots of the campus, finally finding my car in the B.F.E. region.

I didn't notice the note under the windshield wiper until I was behind the wheel and ready to turn the key. I frowned in immediate annoyance. There was always some kind of flyer or what-not slipped under my wipers. Some stupid college band playing at a cheap, off-campus bar, or a credit card application, or a new-age herbalist, or . . . .

I huffed, leaned halfway out my window and reached for the note. I almost crumpled it up and tossed it in the back seat, never to be read or bothered with. But the fact that it was a piece of paper obviously torn from a notebook made me pause. Curiosity compelled me to open it.

"Nate,

Meet me at the gazebo in Johnson Park. It's just past the statue.

XOXO,

Sheila"

My chest swelled instantly, a well as my groin. Sheila, I thought, with all the reverence of a devout Catholic invoking the name of a patron saint. I found myself smiling like a giddy boy on his birthday.

Hmm. The gazebo, huh?

***

Johnson Park lay on the north side of the sprawling campus, beyond the Humanities building. It was fairly sizable, with numerous paths for joggers and walkers, and lots of little hidden glades. It was pretty well known that amorous couples who could not find privacy at the dorms or anywhere else occasionally found a little spot amongst the trees in which to show their affection. It was said that Johnson Park (appropriate name, that) was home to more used condoms than a frat house trash can.

I passed the statue of Armand Johnson, some big-wig politician in the sixties who had provided a lot of funding for the young college, and followed a dusty path through trees and dense foliage toward the gazebo. The structure lay in a small clearing, surrounded by trees that retained most of their leaves. It's white latticework stood out against the surroundings. And there, seated within the enclosure, upon a swinging bench, was Sheila.




By The Numbers Ch. 03



She grinned as I approached, her dark eyes smoldering sexily. She had dressed the part of a naughty schoolgirl, replete with green and black checkered skirt, a white shirt left unbuttoned and tied beneath her breasts, knee-length socks and little black flats. Her long, straight jet hair was secured in pig tails just behind her ears.

I was captivated by the sight. Sheila knew how to play up to fantasies, that was for certain. "Hi," I said.

"Hey, baby," she responded, fanning those lean thighs back and forth. The skirt was tiny, revealing glimpses of her inner thigh and the shadowed, plump lips of her sex. I tried not to shudder as I realized Sheila was not wearing anything underneath. "I've been looking forward to this, Nate."

I stepped onto the gazebo, wanting to relish the moment. "Me, too."

Sheila sat up, sliding her legs together and leaning forward with her hands on her knees. She looked years younger in her get-up, almost making me think she was just an innocent, demurely sexy schoolgirl. She pouted her lips, batted her lashes. "Don't you wanna give me a kiss?"

I took in a shuddering breath and approached. Sheila bit her lip, watching me, her eyes roaming. The tip of a pink tongue caressed her lips slowly, seductively, as she eyed the bulge beneath my jeans.

"Of course I do," I said, and stooped, meeting her eager lips as Sheila tilted her head back. She moaned softly, sucking and licking my lips, searching for my tongue. Her hands came up and touched my arms, pulling me toward her. I almost stumbled, catching myself on the back of the swing. It rocked back and forth as we kissed. Sheila's legs lifted and wrapped around my upper thighs.

"Are you ready, Nate?" she asked huskily, caressing my face and neck with her hands. Her eyes shone up at me, devilish yet promising.

I chuckled, wading through a sea of arousal. "You gotta know by now that I'm always ready for you," I said.

Sheila grinned, and grabbed fistfuls of my shirt, tugging down. "Are you, baby?" she asked, breathing out hotly through her mouth. "Are you ready for me?"

"God, yes," I said, letting myself be lowered to my knees. The sweet, musky aroma of Sheila's passion reached out from beneath her skirt, taking command of my senses . . . my mind.

Sheila's face softened, her eyes growing heavy and cheeks darkening. Fingers ran through my hair, across the line of my jaw. "I want you to eat my pussy," she whispered in that sexily vulgar way of hers.

I tried to stay calm, regulating my breathing. My eyes fell to Sheila's mostly-revealed thighs. Automatically, I settled my hands to the outsides of her legs, feeling her firm muscles tensing. She spread herself wider, making the skirt ride up. The afternoon sunlight illuminated her succulent pussy, revealing how wet she was. The lips of her luscious sex were already swollen and parted.

"Take your time, baby," Sheila said, directing my face toward the inside of her right knee. "Taste me. Don't rush."

I murmured something – can't remember what it was, now – and sucked softly at the little patch of skin just above Sheila's knee, on the inside of her thigh. She drew in a hissing breath, laying back and spreading her legs wider. Her feet lifted off the ground, making her skirt fall back, fully exposing her inspiring pussy, and set her feet on my shoulders.

"Oh, that's it, baby. Take your time . . . oh, God . . . mmm . . . ."

I didn't think about where I was – within a gazebo, on campus grounds, in the middle of the afternoon, where walkers or joggers could easily stumble upon us – as I dragged the tip of my tongue along the salty-sweet skin of Sheila's thigh. The heady fragrance of her excited pussy was so palpable that I could feel it on my tongue, even though I had yet to taste her. But I knew I was going to.

Sheila's breathing grew more and more shallow. Her fingers in my hair seemed to be pulling, directing me closer to her sex. Puffy vulva were spread wide open, sleek pink lips absolutely dripping. The thick bud of her clitoris beckoned me, glowing like a pearl within a shroud of coral drapes.

Finally, my eager tongue licked to the base of her thigh, just where her pelvis and leg were joined. The sweet tartness of her juices inflamed my tongue, and I moaned at the flavor. Sheila fluttered her skirt above her waist, watching me as I sucked at the tender flesh. I gazed up, into her slack, needy face . . . .

"Oh, God . . . ." she moaned, arching her back, pushing her dripping cunt against my mouth as I devoured her. Finesse was cast aside for the moment as I covered as much of her sweet pussy with my mouth as I could, pulling the pliant, slippery flesh inside. Breathe escaped through my nose, which felt the soft brush of her thin 'landing strip' as I moved my head back and forth. This was heaven, I decided. This was Elysium, Valhalla, the Happy Hunting Grounds. Tasting Sheila, drinking her fluid from the source, feeling the pulses of her vaginal muscles against the tip of my licking tongue . . . all of it was, in a word, paradise.

I felt the trembling of Sheila's stiff clit against the flat of my tongue, sucked it into my mouth. Her body bucked, moaning loudly, pulling my face against her cunt. "That's it, baby, eat me . . . oh, fuck yeah . . . eat my cunt. Just like that, Nate. Suck it. Suck it all out . . . ."

Her raunchy words were a verbal aphrodisiac, telling me I was doing it right. Pulling, sucking, slobbering, licking . . . I savored the taste of her, feeling like a worshipper who was finally being rewarded by his goddess. My tongue dipped into the tight, slick opening of her tunnel; I groaned at the feel of those muscles caressing and pushing against me.

After a few minutes, I released her flesh, admiring how swollen and darkened with blood her lips were. My fingers spread them wide open, my tongue thrust deep between, wiggling it around. Her wet flesh all but encased my lips. Her clit rubbed against the tip of my nose.

"Don't stop, baby don't stop," she pleaded with rapid puffs of breath, pushing her hips against my face. "Fuck me with your tongue! Yeah, baby! Yeah! Oh, God!"

I clutched her thighs, holding on, sucking Sheila through her orgasm as she erupted. The tangy, musky flavor of her cunt suddenly became sweeter, thicker. My mouth devoured it all, my tongue licking deep inside her quivering cunt to get every drop of her cum as I could.

She started to push me away, but I wouldn't have it. I had become an addict, and a single dose would not be enough for me. I thrashed Sheila's clit with my tongue, whipping it around, even as it retreated to safety under its hood. I pried her open wide with my fingers, making her cunt gape almost obscenely, and foraged deeply inside. The hanging bench creaked and protested as Sheila squirmed.

She sputtered nonsensically, looking almost in pain, but then grabbed a handful of my hair, mashing her pussy against my face and shaking. Her mouth gaped in a silent scream for a long moment, and I tasted her fresh, sweet cum once more.

"GOD!" she shrieked, throwing her head back. Her legs flew up, dancing in the air as she exploded with her most violent orgasm ever. Thin spurts of bittersweet fluid gushed into my mouth. The force of her orgasm flattered me, making my ego soar. I licked up all I could of her juice, then moved down, laving her slick, puckered anus. Sheila hissed, moaned, giggled as my tongue prodded past the ring of muscle.

"Oh, Nate . . . you dirty boy," she panted, then giggled. She rolled her hips back even further and spread her cheeks with her hands, removing them from my head. Her grinning face beamed down upon me, silently urging me to rim her anus and thrust my tongue inside. She watched me with her glowing eyes for a few moments, then rolled forward, gently pushing me back.

"My turn, baby," she declared with a soft whisper, taking my face in her hands and sucking my lips. Sleek, still-quivering thighs slid down my body, until she had her feet planted on the floorboards. Deftly, without breaking the kiss, she turned us about until I was seated on the hanging bench, she between my legs.

Sheila eased back, smiling broadly with anticipation as she undid my jeans. "You know, Nate," she said, popping the buttons of my fly. "I really loved watching you, and stroking you, but –" she paused, spreading the fabric of my jeans and exposing my erect cock to her gaze. "—Oh, baby . . . I've been dreaming about sucking you off."

I trembled, tentatively reaching for Sheila's tails with my hands. I pulled her face closer to my dick. "So have I," I said. "Baby, please . . . put it in your mouth. Suck it."

Sheila grinned up at me, and, keeping her eyes fixed on mine, lowered her head and slipped her tongue out. A groan escaped me as she licked along the length of my straining dick, as she swirled her wet tongue around the tip. She lapped up some of my pre-cum, savoring it on her tongue.

"I want you, baby," she whispered. "I want your cock in my mouth."

I ground my teeth, a feral emotion coursing through me. My hips rolled forward, tilting the head of my stiff penis toward Sheila's mouth. "Open wide, baby," I groaned. "Suck my cock."

She responded with a purely animalistic groan of her own, and swallowed a little more than half my length, sucking hard, breathing heavily through her nostrils. My body shook, my dick bathed in the incredible, moist heat of Sheila's mouth. Her tongue massaged the underside of my cock as her lips stroked the shaft. The back of her throat fluttered teasingly against the head.

After a minute or so, as I trembled beneath her insurmountable skill, Sheila slid back, letting my dick free of her mouth. Tendrils of saliva stretched from her lips and tongue to my dick. She licked her lips, stroked my cock with her hands. "Don't come too quick, baby," she said, giggling softly. "I'm gonna make this last a long time . . . just enjoy it."

I fought to control myself. "I am," I said. I laughed. "But you're just too good."

That talented tongue licked around the head of my cock, a she slid her slick hands up and down my shaft. "I'll let you cum whenever you want, baby," she said. "Even more than once, if you can."

I grunted, so unbelievably turned on. "Shit, I think I could cum ten times for you."

Sheila laughed, a soft, airy sound. "Oh, really? Wanna put that to the test?"

I squirmed. "Please, baby," I pleaded.

Sheila pursed her lips around the tip of my dick, loudly slurping up my clear pre-cum. "Please what?"

"Suck me," I begged. "Suck my cock, Sheila, please."

She giggled, biting her tongue a moment. "I love it when you beg," she said, then devoured me like an animal, shoving my cock into her mouth, then even deeper. I gasped, holding my breath, feeling the tight, rippling tube of her throat as she took me deep. Such a stupefying, erotic sight it was, as Sheila's lips closed around the very root of my dick. Deep-throat had always been a fantasy; now, it was the most sublime reality.

I was astonished, especially since Sheila had taken me so deep with ease. "Oh, God, baby, that's . . . that's . . . oh God . . . ."

Sheila kept me in her throat as long as she could, then drew back, gasping for air, thick streams of saliva flowing from her mouth to coat my cock. She stroked me for a moment or two, regaining her breath, then plunged back down, making a single gagging sound as her throat swallowed me whole one more. Her eyes smoldered up at me. The tip of her tongue tickled my balls.

With a sigh, Sheila pulled up, and stroked me firmly. She gave me a wicked look, licking her lips. "Damn, it feels good when you're that deep," she whispered, fluttering glossy fingers along my shaft.

I moaned again when Sheila went back down, sucking ardently, massaging the first three or four inches of my cock. Her hands kept pumping up and down, matching the pistoning of her mouth. Never had I received such an incredible blowjob, especially in the middle of the day, within a public gazebo in a park on campus . . . .

As caught up in the sweet pleasure Sheila was administering to me, I'm still surprised I was able to see the young female jogger, a college coed in a loose white top and snug green shorts, as she entered the glade. Her short blonde ponytail bounced behind her head. She had a voluptuous build, yet one toned by habitual exercise.

With Sheila's head bouncing in my lap, I hoped the cute young jogger would simply pass us by. But she happened to glance our way. And stumbled.

Her eyes bulged, mouth gaping open. All she saw, I knew, was a young man seated upon a bench, his jeans around his ankles, a schoolgirl bobbing her head fervently over his groin. Not too hard to figure out what was going on.

"Sheila," I said, pulling on her head.

She slipped her wet mouth from my dick. "You gonna cum?" she asked anxiously, jacking my dick and fondling my swollen balls.

My gaze remained upon the co-ed jogger, perhaps thirty yards from the gazebo. "Someone's watching us."

Sheila stiffened a moment, stopped her stroking. "Is it a cop?" she asked worriedly.

I shook my head, watching as the girl pulled iPod plugs from her ears and took a single step closer. "Just a girl. Jogging."

Sheila grinned. "Oh, yeah?" she asked, then moved, sliding up onto the bench beside me. One of her hands remained encircled tightly around the base of my cock. She looked toward our voyeur.

The girl blushed again, and nibbled her lip. Sheila chuckled as I remained, literally, frozen stiff. What the hell is she doing? Sheila crooked her finger toward the girl, beckoning her closer. Slowly, teasingly, she licked around the head of my cock, exaggerating her movements for the benefit of our audience.

As kinky and unbelievable as it was that Sheila actually encouraged the jogger to come closer, even more so was the fact that the girl did approach, lead by wide, wondering eyes. She looked around cautiously, but there was no one else around.

The blonde stopped at the base of the gazebo, her eyes riveted to the sight of my cock and Sheila's flickering tongue. "Are you guys crazy?" she asked with disbelief evident in her voice. "What if one of the campus cops came through here?"

Sheila shrugged. "Then they could watch, too," she said with a giggle. Her mouth slipped around the crown of my dick.

The blonde watched for a moment, glancing briefly to me before returning her eyes to Sheila's sucking lips. My nervousness about the situation began to fade, replaced by yet another level of arousal. Now, I wasn't just getting a blowjob in a public place. Now, we had an audience. Never had I considered how arousing that could be.

"Yeah, but . . . what if I wasn't cool about it?" the girl asked. "I mean, what if I called the cops?"

Sheila giggled, stroking my dick. "But you are 'cool with it,' right?" she asked. "'Sides, what's the big deal? Never watch a guy get sucked off before?"

The blonde blushed deeply, watching Sheila's mouth engulf my cock once more. I trembled as she smothered my dick with attention, smacking, slurping, licking. The fact that we were being watched seemed to inspire Sheila further. The blonde's mesmerized expression was exciting to me, so I could only imagine how much Sheila was enjoying it.

"Actually, um . . . no," admitted the blonde. Her eyes suddenly broadened, just as Sheila took me all the way to the root. I groaned, feeling her chin against my abdomen, the tip of her nose tickling my balls. "Holy shit!" sputtered the blonde, her mouth gaping. "How do you do that?"

Sheila slid back up, shifting beside me as she stroked my cock. "Lots of practice," she said. "You wanna try?"

My heart leapt. Did she just say that?

The blonde's cheeks flushed even darker. "Um . . . th-that's okay," she said with a nervous laugh. "I'm cool with just watching."

Sheila scooted down on the bench, getting more comfortable. "More for me, then," she commented, then resumed her eager ministrations, sighing and moaning softly as she blew me. The blonde voyeur's obvious fascination and attention heightened my pleasure. Now and then, I looked out from beneath heavy lids, peripherally watching Sheila's bouncing head as I observed the jogger's reactions.

The blonde girl seemed absolutely transfixed by the sight of my cock sliding in and out of Sheila's mouth. I wondered if the girl was getting turned on; it seemed to me that her nipples were hardening, but that may have been my imagination. At the least, her neck was flushed, and there was no denying her stupefaction as Sheila deep-throated me over and over, even keeping my cock buried for many long seconds.

Finally, the intensity of the situation proved too much, and I began bucking my hips, driving my cock in and out of Sheila's mouth. My gasps and moans were telling, and Sheila knew just when I was about to erupt. With an excited gasp, Sheila popped her mouth off me, stroking my cock firmly and rapidly with both hands.

"Watch this," she urged our voyeur, her open mouth hovering over my cock. Her breath panted hotly on my dick; she smacked her hands up and down. Indeed, the blonde was watching, even leaning in closer for a better view.

All that attention – physical as well as visual – pushed me over the edge. I bit back a cry of ecstasy as I came, my dick pulsing in Sheila's hands and spurting a thick flow of shimmering white cream. The blonde gasped at the sight of my orgasmic cock. Sheila cooed, then descended, sucking intently on the head of my dick, smearing her lips with sperm. She stroked me into her mouth, drawing out the streams of my orgasm.

I convulsed with pleasure, relishing the exquisite sensations of cumming in Sheila's incredibly talented mouth. She hung on, stroking, sucking, licking, moaning. My dick grew sensitive, and I winced at the near-painful feel of her lips and tongue upon me. "Oh, God, Sheila, stop! Please . . . ."

With a soft laugh through her nose, Sheila sucked her mouth off my cock, pursing her sticky, glazed lips around an obvious mouthful of cum. A little bubble of it rolled slowly down her chin.

I panted in bliss, relaxing in the chair. Sheila laughed through her full mouth, smiling on me. She turned to our voyeur. "Mmm," she murmured, then spoke, her words muffled. "Nummy."

The blonde looked enthralled by what had happened, staring at Sheila. "You let him . . . do it in your mouth?" she asked.

Sheila nodded, then beckoned the blonde closer, simultaneously leaning toward her. I didn't have to see Sheila's face to know that she had opened her mouth to reveal the puddle of semen that filled it. "See?"

The blonde's features distorted, and she laughed softly in a mixture of amusement and disgust. But there was no denying the look of morbid interest in her eye. "Ew."

Sheila laughed softly, then looked back to me for a moment, letting me get a brief look of her sperm-slathered tongue. She closed her mouth, sucked in her lips and cheeks, and swallowed. Smacking and licking her lips, she returned her attention to the blonde. "All gone," she said playfully, then patted her stomach. "Mmm. It's so warm."

"It's not gross?" asked the blonde.

Sheila shook her head, then lowered herself once again, squeezing my dick to urge out another thick bubble. She licked it away, sucked on the tip for a moment. "Hell, no. It's part of my diet," she said with a giggle.

The blonde laughed softly, shaking her head, then straightened. "Um . . . well, this was pretty cool, but, uh . . . I gotta get going."

Sheila nodded with a smile. "Yeah, maybe we should find someplace else to play," Sheila said. "But, thanks for hanging around. That was pretty hot."

The jogger laughed, and fitted her earplugs back in place. "You guys be careful, okay? Hate to read about a couple students getting busted for indecent exposure."




By The Numbers Ch. 03



Sheila echoed the laugh, waved with her free hand. "You're pretty cool," she called after the girl, as the blonde resumed her jogging. Sheila turned back to me with an excited gleam in her eye. Impulsively, she straddled my lap, her warm, wet pussy pressed against my balls. "How fucking hot was that?" she asked. "I can't believe she stuck around and watched us!"

I ran my hands up Sheila's thighs, beneath her skirt. The heat of her pussy, the fresh wetness leaking down my balls, the lingering kinky feeling of what had just happened . . . I was getting hard again, slowly but surely. "You're incredible," I said.

Sheila ran her hands across my chest, smiling demurely. "You're a really sweet guy, Nate," she said. "Can't believe you're single."

"Maybe I've just been waiting for the right girl," I said, gazing into her eyes. I was taking a chance, I knew. But there was no way I could deny how I felt about Sheila. Sexy, beautiful, kinky . . . she was the sort of woman, the sort of lover, that men around the world dreamt about.

Sheila's smile wavered a moment, and she looked away. In that instant, she seemed almost sad. She inhaled deeply, then managed a smile and looked back to me. "Hey, you hungry?" she asked. "Let's hit a drive-thru."

I thought about pushing the subject, trying to figure out if what we had was a relationship, or, as Andi had surmised, we were just 'fooling around.' I figured Sheila had her reasons for being evasive, and being the guy I was, I wasn't about to endanger a good thing by pushing too far. So, reluctantly, I agreed to getting a bite to eat, especially since it meant spending a little more time with Sheila.

***

Inspired by the encounter with our voyeur, Sheila evidently decided that she wasn't done testing the boundaries of decency. Once on the road in my car, she started rubbing me through my jeans. I did not offer any resistance, so, as cars surrounded us on all sides, Sheila unzipped my jeans and fished out my cock. It was still sticky and held that strong, cloying aroma of spent semen, yet that did not seem to bother Sheila as she leaned over and began licking my rapidly-hardening length.

She made no effort to stay low in my car and avoid being seen. In fact, now and then, she would lift her head and look around, eyes flashing in arousal as she spied all the cars around us. Some of the other drivers and passengers saw what she was doing. A few kept time with us, watching Sheila's bobbing head. They honked their horns and grinned, giving me thumbs-up signs.

Eventually, I pulled into the drive-thru lane at a popular burger chain. "Welcome to Whattaburger. May I take your order?"

"Yeah, um . . . we'd like, uh . . . one wh-whattaburger combo, uh . . . with a Coke, and, uh . . . a chicken, um, tenders . . . basket."

"Oh-kay . . . what kind of drink with the tenders?"

I gently pulled on one of Sheila's tails, urging her hungry mouth from my dick. "What do you wanna drink?"

"Cum," she said with a mischievous grin, just loudly enough, then went happily back to slurping.

"What was that?" asked the voice through the static-filled speaker.

"Um, Coke," I answered hastily.

". . . please pull up."

I sighed, rolling my head. "Sheila, come on, you gotta stop."

"Hm-hmm," she responded negatively, shaking her head as she kept her mouth full. Her right hand gripped my balls, squeezing gently. The message was clear; she was not going to stop.

Being caught by a lone college coed jogging in the woods was one thing, especially considering that the girl had been interested and fascinated enough to watch. But this was different. This was a busy drive-thru. My nervousness overwhelmed my arousal. Sheila's talented mouth and hands kept me from going soft, but I knew I was a long way from orgasm.

I had to make a quick choice: pull up to the window, and suffer whatever embarrassment or excitement that might occur, or take the safe road, and pull out of line. But being with Sheila, obviously, was all about pushing boundaries. Not taking the safe road, but forsaking it for the bumpy, less-traveled one.

Fuck it, I thought, making my decision. For better or worse.

"Mmm. Mmm," Sheila moaned, sucking and stroking my cock avidly. My galvanization allowed my libido to slip through, trampling any fears I may have had. I remembered how excited I was at the blonde jogger's fascination of my dick in Sheila's mouth, her shocked yet amazed reaction to Sheila sucking out my load. Regardless of what reaction we would get from the girl at the drive-thru window, I suddenly realized it was going to be exciting.

There was a young, pudgy Hispanic girl awaiting me, leaning halfway out the window and smacking her gum. She watched my car approach, leaned back in just before I pulled up. "That's gonna be twelve-twenty . . ." she trailed off, watching Sheila's head bobbing in my lap. She gave me a disgusted look, and sighed.

I fought back a grin, handing the girl two twenties. Sheila's wet sucking and smacking sounds, her melodramatic moans, filled the car. I knew the girl could hear them.

She handed me my change, smacking it into my hand. A couple of coins fell to the ground outside the car. "Next window, pervert," she said acidly.

I crumpled up the money, then pulled forward. Word had spread quickly, obviously. There was a pimply kid at the next window, and as I pulled up, I saw a few others crowding behind him. All were grinning, and exclaimed loudly as they saw Sheila's head rolling back and forth.

"Dude!"

"Holy shit!"

"You fuckin' rock, dude!"

A voice called from the back: "No way! Chick's really suckin' his dick?"

Sheila suddenly lifted her head, her mouth shiny and wet. She faced the guys in the window, and licked her lips in an exaggerated way. "I sure am," she said with a slutty smile. "And I'm gonna let him bust a nut in my mouth."

Well, that little declaration certainly elicited a response. The guys yelled, hollered, gave each other high-fives. I took the bag and drinks offered me, set them on the floorboard. Then I noticed one of the kids holding up his camera-phone, trained to capture an image of Sheila with a cock in her mouth.

Okay, that's enough, I thought, and pulled away. I could just imagine that picture being spread around the Internet. I was sure Sheila wouldn't want that.

I drove across the street, cutting off a big white SUV in the process, and found a parking space toward the far end of a business lot. I didn't even cut the engine; just shoved my seat back and grabbed Sheila's head with my hands, pumping my hips up toward her mouth. I was so utterly aroused that I wasn't thinking of anything other than my own release.

"Suck it, Sheila," I growled, using her. She let me, whimpering, moaning around my dick, as aroused as I was. "Suck my cock 'til I cum in your mouth."

She quivered, and pumped me harder. "Mmmm . . . ."

***

I was flying high like an astronaut when I stepped through the doors of Jersey Jack's that night. After getting naked and sweaty in my car, I had just enough time to head home and shower, after dropping Sheila off at her car in the visitor's lot on campus. Positively reeking of that sweet smell of sex, she gave me a long, deep kiss before letting me go. I wanted to think that the dreamy expression on her face was due to more than simple sexual gratification.

Right off the bat, I had a killer night at work. My good mood was infectious, translating to even the most sour-faced of my guests. I couldn't stop grinning the whole night, and while I did not let on why I was in such an elated mood, at least one of my friends knew why.

"Well, you're sure dancing on Cloud Nine."

I looked to the source of the voice as I was putting in an order at one of the computers. Andi was giving me a knowing smile. I just chuckled. "Cloud Nine, ten, eleven . . . ."

She chuckled. "That good, huh?"

I took in a deep breath, let it out with a sigh of remembrance. "It's not what you think," I said. "We really like being together."

"Oh, I'm sure," said Andi with a sharp laugh.

I shot her a look. "You don't know how it is when we're alone," I said defensively.

She leaned closer, speaking under her breath. "Then why doesn't anybody else know?" she asked.

I soured. I really did not have a reply. In the back of my mind, I knew that what Andi was insinuating was right. But I was defiant in ignoring it.

"Because it's not time, yet," I said firmly, then stepped away, sure in my righteousness.

***

Since Sheila had called me the evening before, I had her number saved on my caller ID at home. As soon as I got out of my work clothes, I hit the 'call back' button. I heard it ring a few times before the other end was picked up.

"Hi."

"Hi, baby," I said, in my most suave voice.

There was a long pause on Sheila's end. "Um . . . I can't really talk right now," she said, her voice sharp, almost biting.

I swallowed nervously. "Oh . . . you're not alone, huh?"

"Nope!" she said quickly. "Hey, maybe we can talk about this tomorrow, okay? 'Night!"

I held onto the receiver for a while, hanging up only once I heard the annoying beeping that automatically came when a broken line was kept open for too long. I slammed the receiver down, feeling jilted, brushed off, discarded. I lit a cigarette, trying not to let my anger get the better of me. Finally, I snatched up the phone once more, dialed a different number.

"Yo."

"Mark? Hey, it's Nate. Think you can score me something tonight?"

I heard a sigh on the other end. "Dude, I'm way inside Halo."

"I just need some beer," I said. "Look, you're five minutes away. I'll give you ten bucks for gas."

". . . yeah, sure, man."

***

It was late – almost two in the morning – when the phone rang. I had guzzled six beers in just over two hours, and my head was swimming. Maybe not blitzed, but I was drunk. No doubt about it.

"Yeah."

"Look, Nate, you can't call me like that, okay?"

My hazy mind stirred slowly. "Sheila?"

She huffed. "Are you drunk?" she asked, her question sounding almost like an accusation.

"Mmm . . . had a few," I said, struggling to sit up. I had passed out on the couch. I reached for my cigarettes.

"Nate," she said, speaking in a hushed tone. I wondered if she was in the bathroom of her apartment, or maybe out on the balcony, away from Mr. Lawyer, who undoubtedly lay sated and snoring in the bed they shared. "Do you wanna be with me?"

I lit a cigarette, almost dropping my lighter. "I wanna . . . be with you . . . forever, baby. I L—"

"Then listen to me," she said, cutting me off. "I call you, okay?"

I sighed, then coughed as the smoke caught in my throat. "I jus' wanted t'say that I was thinkin' 'bout you—"

"Nate."

"Yeah."

"Go to bed, okay? Just . . . go to sleep."

". . . I wan' you."

She sighed again. "Soon, baby, okay?"

"When?"

There was a long pause. "I'll let you know," she said abruptly, then hung up.

I listened to the silence for a long moment. "Fine."

To be continued . . . .



By The Numbers Ch. 04



A mixture of proud anger and adolescent shame filled me for the following few days. I worked with Sheila over the weekend, but never seemed to be able to be alone with her. She was sweet and smiling the entire time, flirting with me as much as she always had before, but it always appeared to work out that we simply could not spend even so much as ten seconds alone.

On Sunday, we both worked the day shift. Typically, Sunday afternoons were busy. As soon as church let out – and there were more than a few in the area – we invariably filled up. I liked my Sunday shifts, since I made good money and usually had the night off. And, having checked Sheila's schedule, I knew that she had the night off, as well.

After four days, I was looking forward to being with Sheila once again. There was, after all, at least one more 'number' on her list. As much as I loved Number Four, Five promised to be . . . exquisite.

Toward the end of the shift, as the evening crew was taking tables and I was cleaning up after my last guests, I heard a squeal of surprise from the bar area. That squeal sounded very familiar. I had heard variations of it several times, after all.

Except . . . this time, that sound had not been emitted for my benefit. Rather, it was for the tall, good-looking blonde man who, as I stepped around the edge of the bar from the kitchen, was holding Sheila tightly. To say that jealousy reared its ugly head would have been an understatement. I wasn't sure which I suddenly hated more: Mr. Lawyer's good looks and obvious affluence, or the way Sheila clung to him, grinning up to his face as if he was the most important person on the planet.

Well, if he's so fucking special, I thought, why is Sheila going out with me? Why is she—

Idiot. She's not 'going out' with you. She plays with your dick and sucks you off. You don't take her out to dinner, you don't buy her flowers, she doesn't spend the night . . . .

"Cute couple," came Andi's voice from beside me. "She looks really happy with him."

I glared at her. "Leave it to you to twist a knife in my back," I said acidly.

Andi wasn't the least bit offended. She just stared back at me. "And who put it there in the first place?" she asked bluntly. She did not step away after her quip; she remained where she was, silently challenging me to rebuke her.

I looked back to Sheila, watching her laugh and smile and snuggle against her man, against Grant. I suddenly hated that name. Part of me wanted to butt in, say something, be the 'alpha male' and claim Sheila. But that wasn't me. I was the 'nice guy.' The 'quiet guy.' I didn't make waves.

So, instead, I backed away. "I'm gonna go smoke," I said, and left the bar.

***

I had decided to distract myself with my collection of Star Wars Xbox games. I was well into cutting up some bad guys with my lightsaber when the knock came at the door, reminding me that I had ordered a pizza. Reluctantly putting the game on pause, I dug for my cash and answered the door.

"Hi."

I blinked, having expected the usual geeky girl who delivered my hand-tossed double-pepperoni pie. Instead, it was Sheila who stood on my tattered straw welcome mat. It had been a couple of hours since I had left work, and figured Sheila had not lingered much longer. Yet she still wore her jeans and had on just a white tank, and the greasy smell of a restaurant was faint but noticeable drifting from her.

I didn't say anything, confounded by the swirl of emotions that Sheila's appearance had elicited. Confusion, wonder, arousal . . . .

"You didn't say good-bye when you left work," she prompted me with a small, amused smile. "Are you mad at me or something?"

I managed to recover my brain, at least somewhat. "No, of course not," I said, even though I really wanted to ask why she wasn't with her 'perfect' boyfriend. I shrugged, trying to come off as being cool and nonchalant. "You, um, seemed kind of busy."

"Hmm," she muttered casually. "Okay." She gave me a catty smile, apparently done with the topic, and stepped closer, expecting to be let in. I resisted, just for a moment, not budging. But then I stepped aside and let Sheila in.

I was glad I maintained a somewhat clean apartment, even if the dishes were piling up and the bathtub was in need of a good scrubbing. I had some incense burning – a habit, since I smoked in my apartment – so the place didn't smell too funky. But I had some clothes strewn around the floor – my apartment was a one-room studio – and a few empty beer cans on the kitchen counter. Sheila did not seem to be offended by my place as she looked around.

I felt like I needed to be a gracious host for my unexpected guest. At the least, I needed to do something to counter the immediate sense of arousal I felt in Sheila's presence. "Um, want something to drink?" I asked awkwardly.

She finished her assessment of my living conditions, and turned back to me with a sly look on her beautiful face. Her gaze drifted to my crotch briefly, then back to my face. "Sure. You got something on tap?"

Just that simple look, and the implications of her words . . . I could feel my cock growing, snaking against the denim that encased it. "Uh, sure," I said, trying to be suave. "Wanna get a glass?"

Sheila's lips stretched in a sexy smile as she stepped up to me, lightly pressing her body to mine. "Actually, I'd rather just suck it from the tap, if that's okay."

I suddenly hoped Sheila couldn't tell how much her words had me trembling with lust. Something in me wanted to salvage some measure of control over the situation. It was a mad wish, of course; my subconscious understood that this entire scenario was Sheila's game. But my conscious mind wanted to hold onto the fantasy that I still held a measure of control.

"Well . . . if you insist," I said.

Sheila's hands were already pulling on my belt, getting it undone. Her eyes shone up at me with that canny expression of desire. I held my breath as she undid the button of my jeans and pushed the zipper down. "Oh, I do, baby," she murmured, then sunk to her knees, dragging my jeans down.

I sighed as my cock fell out, then groaned at the feel of Sheila's warm, wet breath, soft lips, and darting tongue upon the head. I watched as she licked slowly around the tip of my cock, making the head shine with her saliva. Her eyes shone as she looked up to my face. I found that inordinately sexy.

"You like this, baby?" Sheila whispered in between licks at the head of my dick. I watched her tongue become repeatedly smeared with the clear, glistening pre-cum that oozed from my dick.

"God, yes," I muttered.

Sheila grinned, squeezing my dick with her hand. She rubbed the head of my cock around her lips, making them glisten with my fluid, then sucked the head into her mouth, all the while looking up at me. The sweet, wet sucking sounds that escaped her throat and lips were intensely arousing. I shuddered and sighed, running my hands through her long, flowing hair. Sheila's eyes softened, and she took more of my cock, her lips stretching around my girth. She breathed out through her nose, letting a soft, moaning sound escape her throat before it opened and stretched around my dick.

I moaned loudly, cradling her head to my groin as her chin pressed against my balls, her nose tickling the hairs of my abdomen. I felt every tight, sucking ripple of her throat around my shaft. The sensation was ecstatic, to say the least, especially since she kept me buried for many long, glorious seconds.

Smoothly, Sheila slid me from her mouth and stood, quickly undoing her jeans as she stood. "Take it all off, baby," she urged me, her eyes hungry and feral. "I wanna see you naked."

Heeding her words, I sat on the edge of my little bed and pulled off my shoes, jeans, and shirt. I watched Sheila shimmy her jeans down her lean legs and step out of her shoes and socks, then as she slid her panties all the way off. Naked save for the tiny top she wore, Sheila approached me, pushing me back on the bed.

"Eat me," she whispered, climbing over my chest and framing my head with her thighs. Her pussy was moist and fragrant, almost crudely so as she pressed the flaring lips to my mouth. I was intoxicated instantly, inhaling her scent, licking along, then between, her slippery lips. I felt her vagina open and accept my intrusion. We both moaned as my tongue penetrated her.

"Oh, baby, yeah!" she gasped, rolling her hips, grinding her soaked cunt onto my face. I sucked and licked avidly, devouring her juices, but some escaped and I felt it dribbling down my chin and neck.

Knock, knock.

Sheila suddenly pulled back, looking down at me, her face glowing with rouge. "Someone's here!" she whispered in a worried, frantic tone. For a moment, I wondered if she thought my guest may have been her boyfriend.

I swiped at her clit with my tongue, making Sheila wince and tremble. "Pizza," I said.

She suddenly grinned. "Pizza?" she asked.

I nodded, kissing the insides of her taut thighs. "I ordered one."

Sheila giggled and slid back, jumping off the bed. Damn, she looked beyond sexy in that tight, wrinkled little top and nothing else. The dimples above her ass made her firm, round cheeks stand out. I could just make out the swollen, dangling lips of her labia as she went to the door and peered through the spyhole.

"It's a guy," she said, giving me an impish smile. "Let me get it."

I chuckled, more than willing to stay on the bed, stroking my dick to keep it hard. "Go ahead," I said. "My money's in my jeans."

Sheila laughed softly, then looked for her own jeans. She extracted a wad of cash, gave me a look. "It's on me, baby," she said, then opened the door. "Hi!"

There was a long moment of silence. Sheila's shirt stopped just above her waist, which meant that the sexy swell of her hips, the little 'landing strip' of pubic hair above her pussy, were completely exposed. I couldn't see the pizza delivery guy, but I could sure imagine his awe-filled expression.

"Got a pie for me?" Sheila asked with a grin, shifting her weight to her right leg and fanning her left out.

"Uh, yeah," I heard a male voice say. Velcro ripped. Sheila was handed a white cardboard box.

"How much is it?" she asked.

"U-um . . . thirteen, um . . . thirteen—"

"Here's twenty," she said, taking the pizza box and turning on her feet, affording the delivery guy a perfect view of her bubble-butt. Sheila grinned broadly over her shoulder. "Keep the change," she said, then kicked the door closed.

I shook my head, laughing as Sheila stepped toward me. "You just made his day."

Sheila's eyes smoldered, and she set the pizza box on the little table between my bed and couch. She locked her blazing eyes on mine and crawled up over me, settling her steamy pussy against my groin. "And I'm gonna make yours, baby," she whispered, then leaned over and kissed me deeply.

***

Never will I forget that moment. After sucking my cock to return it to its full length, Sheila lay back, legs spread wide, her swollen pink pussy splayed open and ready for me. She licked her fingers, then stroked her labia, all the while gazing up at me. "Put it in me, baby," she urged. "Fuck me."

I felt an urge to savor the moment, so I took my cock in hand and rubbed the head along her hot, spicy slit. I moaned at the feel of her slick lips parting and caressing my dick, at the sight of her swollen clit. Sheila jerked slightly when the head of my dick rubbed against it. "Please," she lamented.

I positioned the head of my cock against her pursed, wet opening, and grabbed her ankles. Sheila willingly spread her legs wide, and closed her eyes in blissful anticipation. I leaned in, pushing inside her, sighing loudly at the heat of Sheila's pussy, the tight, sucking motions of her inner walls as they pulled me in. I looked down, watching my cock being swallowed up in Sheila's heavenly cunt.

"Oh, God!" cried Sheila, throwing her head back. Her legs locked around me, ankles digging into the small of my back. She panted and breathed loudly through her mouth; her eyes flashed open. Her mouth worked silently for a few moments, then she grinned, closing her eyes. "Oh-h-h-h, baby . . . yes . . . . "

I grunted in response, reveling in the heat of Sheila's pussy, the tightness of her cunt as her muscles stroked and massaged my length. I kept her legs spread wide apart, plunging into her over and over and over—

"Oh fuck!" she screamed at last, her sweaty body shaking beneath mine. Her eyes flashed to mine in an almost pleading way, even as her hands clawed at the cheeks of my ass. "I'm gonna cum, Nate . . . oh . . . shit!"

Her face contorted, twisting as if in pain as her head thrashed back and forth. Dark strands of hair danced across her face. Then she was grunting, crying, even screaming. Her body lifted up from the mattress, her legs tightening around me fiercely. Her eyes flashed open and she hissed, panted loudly through clenched teeth. "Baby! B-b-baby! Oh fucking hell!"

Sheila's orgasm was incredible, and inspiring. She shook and moaned, thrashed and gasped. Her cunt sucked powerfully on my dick, and I had no more will left to deny her. As I felt the squelching juices of her pussy spurting around my cock and soaking into my groin, I hammered deep inside, enjoying my own release. I felt every last pulse of semen from my dick as it was emptied deep in Sheila's womb.

For an instant, it was like we were trapped within a sliver of time. I held Sheila close, my hands digging into the firm flesh of her hips. We stared into one another's eyes. I saw only bliss, content, and perhaps, even a shadow of love.

With a groan, I fell atop her, pressing Sheila into the mattress. She cooed and purred, wrapping her arms and legs around me tightly. I felt her soft lips kissing my neck, my ear, my cheek, then my lips.

"I love you, baby," she whispered.

I might have responded. But I was too drained. I barely remember rolling onto my back, clutching Sheila close as we recovered.

***

The pizza was lukewarm, but neither I nor Sheila minded as we sat on my bed and watched some contrived, predictable movie on the Sci-Fi channel and ate. Neither of us bothered with clothes; Sheila had stripped of her top, and sat Indian-style in full nudity as I reclined on my side.

"See?" she declared, stabbing a finger at the screen, mindless of the pizza sauce smeared at the corner of her mouth. "That's just stupid! You're getting chased by a ninety-foot snake! Don't run up the hill, where it can see you! Go in the stupid fucking house!"

I chuckled, watching her. Her casual nudity had maintained within me a constant level of simmering arousal. My hand slid up between her thighs, and automatically, Sheila uncurled her legs, letting me seek the moist, hot center of her sex. She took another bite from her slice of pizza. "Idiot," she remarked.

I smiled, slowly pushing a finger inside her pussy. She was surprisingly wet, even moreso than usual. "It's just a movie," I said.

Sheila looked down to me, smiling as she chewed. She spread her legs even wider, lifting one in the air to give me better access to her cunt. I slowly slid my finger in and out, then added a second. She moaned softly, swallowed her mouthful. "Mmm," she moaned, rocking gently on her hips. "I know. Still, these kinds'a movies always piss me off . . . um, Nate, baby . . . ."

I grinned, leaning in slowly, watching Sheila's face as I slipped out my tongue and swiped at her clit. "Yeah?" I asked, feeling the little button as it swelled and grew.

Sheila dropped her half-eaten slice of pizza back in the box and leaned back on her hands, spreading her legs wantonly. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked with a little smile.

"Having dessert?" I asked, then smiled back, slipping my tongue into her pussy. I was aware of a tart, salty, bitter flavor. It was different from before. 

Sheila giggled, evidently amused by the expression on my face. "You do remember that you came inside me, right?"

I stopped licking her, looked down at what I had been sampling. Sheila's pussy was creamy, the fluid coating her labia thick and gooey. I suddenly realized why Sheila was so wet, and that what I had tasted was my own cum, mingled with her juices. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

She giggled again, and scooted back on the bed. "Come on, baby," she urged, standing beside the bed and reaching for my hand. Her eyes flashed excitedly. "Let's have shower sex."

I couldn't very well argue with that. I followed Sheila's perfect cheeks into the bathroom, temporarily cringing at the thought that she would be offended by the scum in the tub or the shower curtain that really needed to be replaced. But she gave no indication of disgust as she pulled open the curtain and turned the knob. The way she was bent over . . . I couldn't help myself.

"Ooo!" she gasped, then giggled as I pressed my groin to her ass, feeling the swampy heat of her pussy against my growing shaft. I bent at the waist and kissed her shoulder, smoothing my hands up her slightly oily skin.

"I want you," I whispered.

I watched her face in profile as she closed her eyes and bit her lip sensuously. "Mmm, I know you do, baby."

I was quickly hard, and pulled back, just a little, enjoying the feel of that heavenly ass against my lower abdomen. My cock angled up automatically, seeking her hot center. I groaned at the feel of her, of those slippery lips caressing the head.

Sheila wiggled her hips, teasing me, then straightened and turned around. Giving me a sultry look while curling her fingers around my dick, she stepped into the shower, bringing me with her.

Warm water ran over us both. Sheila looked even sexier as her hair became thick and heavy with water, sticking to her neck and back. She kissed me passionately, raking my chest with her rock candy nipples. Her hands stroked lightly along my shaft as it jutted between her legs. I moaned as she rubbed the tip against her clit.

"I can't believe . . . how hot . . . you make me," I whispered between kisses. I rolled my hips a little, trying to push inside her. But Sheila would tilt her own hips back, just as the head of my cock penetrated her pussy.

"I think about you all the time," she said back, moving her hand down to cup my balls. Rivulets of water trickled down her face. Her plastered hair and wide dark eyes made her look like a teenager. "I fantasize about you."

That surprised me. "Really?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Even when . . . I mean, when you're with—"

Sheila shushed me with a finger to my lips and a soft, sensuous kiss. "This is about us, baby. About you and me and making love all night."

My passion hit a new peak, evoking a warm, sharp stab of raw emotion in my heart. Sheila's words were akin to a commitment, it seemed. With a roughness – tempered by my adoration – that made Sheila yelp, I gripped her ass and lifted her up, pinning her to the wall. I smothered her mouth with mine, and drove my cock inside her slick tunnel, feeling the powerful muscles pulling me within.

"Oh! Nate!" she gasped, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around me. I reveled in the feel of her trembling body.

"I love you, Sheila," I moaned, thrusting hard and sure, making her back squeak against the wet tile behind her. With each deep drive, my balls slapped wetly against her ass. I sucked water from her neck and shoulder and listened to the heated panting in my ear.

"Mmm Nate," she groaned, clenching me tightly within her. "God, baby, you make it so easy to cum . . . ." And, to make her point, she let out a shuddering wail, clawing my back so deeply that I winced.

But I didn't stop. I couldn't. I was going to fuck her all night.

***

It was a little after three in the morning when I awoke, stirred from sleep when I realized my arms were no longer wrapped around Sheila's warm, supine body. Feeling almost drunk from the pleasure we had shared, I rolled up in bed, watching Sheila as she got dressed.




By The Numbers Ch. 04



"You're leaving?" I asked.

Sheila wiggled her hips into her jeans, paused as she gazed upon me with a small smile. Her firm little breasts swayed only slightly as she bent and retrieved her shirt. "I gotta go," she said simply, threading her arms through the holes and scrolling the garment down her body.

"Sheila, I wanna say something," I said.

She stopped, staring at me, her expression inscrutable.

I took a breath. "I really do love you," I said.

Sheila's features softened, and she smiled. She cocked her head to the side, then leaned in for a long, loving kiss. She sucked on my lower lip as she pulled back. "I know," she said, then opened the door.

"I wanna see you again," I blurted out.

She paused, smiling, and nodded. "You will."

***

I did not see Sheila until Wednesday, when we both worked the dinner shift. All night, she seemed subdued around me, barely speaking, even as she gave me soft-eyed and sexy looks now and then. When she thought no one was looking, she would waggle her tongue in an almost obscene manner, then grin and walk away.

I couldn't wait to be with her again.

Just after nine o'clock, a bunch of us headed out to the back dock for a smoke break. Me, Sheila, Andi, Mark, and a few others. As we all lit up, Sheila clandestinely slipped her hand over my backside and between my legs. I almost dropped my lighter when her hands briefly groped my balls through my jeans. No one noticed, except Andi, who gave me a knowing, yet warning, look.

"Hey, Nate," Mark said, blowing smoke. "My ride's fucked up. Give me a lift?"

I shrugged. "Sure. Get me some beer?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Yeah, dude, no prob. The usual?"

I nodded.

"What's 'the usual?'" asked Lexie, a skinny blonde girl. She was in college like me, and gave me the impression of being the stereotypical sorority chick; easy, blank-minded, with no more identity than that which her sisters provided. She had already slept with half a dozen of my fellow servers in the few months since she had started at work. Had it not been for Sheila, I may have had her in my bed as well. Lexie had pretty much made it obvious that she was up for it.

"Warsteiner dopple-bock," Sheila said just as I began to answer Lexie's query. All eyes suddenly fell upon her, many with wonder that she knew what I preferred.

She looked around a moment, then laughed it off casually. "Hey, I pay attention," she said. "I also know that Mark likes Tecate. So what?"

The conversation quickly degenerated into the pros and cons of various kinds of beer. Sheila's intimate knowledge of what I liked had been diverted, and no one appeared to give it another moment's thought . . . save Andi.

I caught Andi's look as the others, including Sheila, laughed and joked. The message in her eyes was one of warning and sympathy. But I did not recognize it just then.

***

"Dude, what a fucking night," Mark said as we got into my car later that evening. I had almost immediately dreaded agreeing to give Mark a ride home, since the impression I got from Sheila was that she was pretty hot to trot. But Mark was my buddy, and I owed him for all the times he had gotten me beer.

"No shit, man," I said, starting the car. "Can't believe that asshole at your six-top. Did he really think he was gonna get better service after all that bitching?"

Mark shrugged. "I figure he hasn't gotten any in a while," he said with a dry chuckle. "No pussy can make anybody cranky."

I laughed, starting to back out. I paused as I noticed Sheila walking to her car, jingling her keys. She glanced toward me, and for a moment, we locked eyes. The corners of her mouth curled slightly before she turned away, unlocking her car.

"Damn, that's some fine ass," Mark commented, obviously indicating Sheila. "I'd give my right nut to tap that."

I glanced to him with a sly look. "Yeah, you would," I said, then resumed backing out. I somehow understood that I was going to see Sheila that night, and I wanted to get home and get showered.

Mark stared at me a moment as I drove away from the restaurant. "Nah," he said at last. "No fucking way. Every dude in the place has been trying to score with Sheila since she started."

I didn't say anything as Mark prattled on about Sheila's obvious assets and her reputation for shooting guys down. A big part of my ego wanted to tell him the truth, to brag about 'bagging' Sheila. But that, I knew, would get back to her. And then our fun would end.

I couldn't take the chance of losing the woman I loved.

***

I got home just before midnight, after dropping off Mark at his apartment. I stowed my Warsteiner in the fridge and peeled off my clothes. I took a shower, brushed my teeth, spiffed up the place a little. Then I popped open a beer and flipped on Comedy Central. South Park kept me entertained and helped the time pass as I waited for Sheila.

Two beers had me feeling a little anxious by one o'clock. I kept checking the window, looking for Sheila's car pulling up in the lot outside. By one-thirty, my heart was beginning to sink. I popped the cap off another beer. By two, I was fairly morose, despairing that Sheila was not going to stop by.

The knock came just as I opened the third beer. Sheila! I rushed to the door, then paused and peered out the spyhole. It was her. She stood on my doorstep, smoking a cigarette.

I thought about slipping on my jeans, or at least a pair of shorts. Fuck it, I thought, and opened the door, fully nude.

Sheila looked me over, her eyes a little heavy and glazed. The sweet aroma of alcohol rolled out from her lips as she spoke. "Just what I was hoping for," she commented, swaying slightly. She flicked her cigarette away carelessly and crushed her body to mine, grabbing my cock roughly with one hand and kissing me fiercely.

Alcohol hot gotten me buzzed; passion made me drunk. Heedless to any eyes from the surrounding apartments or the parking lot, I groped Sheila's tits through her shirt, slipped my hand between her cheeks from behind.

Sheila sucked her mouth from mine and panted hotly. "I wanna fuck," she muttered drunkenly, shoving me back. She ripped off her shirt and the T-shirt she wore beneath, tossing them aside while giving me a feral look. "And I wanna fuck hard."

***

I had never known a woman to get naked so swiftly before. Sheila did not want to be romanced, or seduced; she was horny. She wanted dick. And I was more than happy to give it to her.

Her clothes scattered on the floor, Sheila bent over the end of my couch, arching her back and keeping her legs straight and slightly spread. Her puffy pussy bulged out from beneath her globular cheeks, already shiny with moisture. The tiny aperture of her slightly darker anus winked at me.

"Get me ready, baby," she whispered huskily.

I grinned, emboldened by alcohol. "Like you need help," I said, dropping to my knees. I pries her cheeks apart and nuzzled my face between her thighs, licking and sucking her smooth lips. There was a little stubble along her vulva, not that I minded. I actually found the slightly scratchy feeling against my tongue endearing.

"Yes, baby, yes," she hissed, pushing back against me. "Push your tongue in my cunt. Deep. Do, it baby."

I loved hearing her talk dirty. The fact that the word 'cunt' would ever drip from Sheila's lips was incredibly arousing. Inspired by her abandon, I thrust my tongue as far as it would go inside her, feeling the rhythmic contractions of her inner muscles. Sheila panted for a few moments – she seemed so easy to get going, I suddenly thought – and clawed the arm of my couch.

She squirmed as I sucked noisily on her oozing pussy, whimpering faintly now and then. Then she reached back, grabbing a handful of hair, and pulled my head up. "My ass," she growled. "Do my ass."

I hesitated a moment. She wants me to lick her ass? Well, sure . . . .

She sighed in mild frustration as I dragged my tongue along the firm curves of her rear. "No, baby," Sheila said, directing my face between her cheeks. "There. Do it there."

Again, I hesitated. The aroma was not unpleasant, sort of like Albacore tuna, packed in spring water, mingled with a base, earthy smell. There was a certain attraction to the prospect of licking Sheila's asshole, despite the vaguely disgusting connotations of the tight opening's purpose.

Tentatively, I slipped my tongue out, licking the wrinkled skin there, feeling the muscles of her sphincter flexing around the tip of my tongue. The flavor I experienced was surprisingly sweet, if a bit strong, since Sheila had been wearing her jeans all day. I decided that I liked it, and kept licking.

"Mmm, fuck yeah, baby. Lick my ass, lick my ass . . . ."

I'll go one better, I thought, gripping and squeezing her cheeks. Parting them wide, I made my tongue firm and suddenly stabbed it past her sphincter, right into her ass. The tightness of that ring of muscle was unbelievable, as well as the heat of the dark cavern beyond.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, slapping her hands to the couch. Her thighs and cheeks shook. Clearly, she was enjoying the sensations I gave her. "Ooo, Nate, baby . . . ."

I moaned in response, encouraged by hers, and slid my tongue back and forth, feeling her anus relax and open. I licked all around it, inside it, up and down her narrow crack. Sheila moaned and murmured as my tongue traveled from her clit to her tailbone, and back and forth, back and forth . . . .

Sheila was seething, panting in heat, rolling her back and hips, keeping me firmly in place with her vice-grip on my head. She really need not have worried; this new and delicious variation was one I would gladly have kept up on my own.

It took her a while – thanks to the alcohol she had imbibed – but eventually, my thrusting tongue and digging fingers did the trick. Probing her pussy with my fingers, feeling her juices seeping out to coat them, was a good indication that she was about to cum. Then I felt her anal muscles squeezing my tongue, and she shoved back hard against me . . . .

"Oh! My! GOD!" Sheila screeched as she came, her body roiling and bucking. I had to hold onto her hips to keep from falling over, and her fervent movements nearly broke my nose. But my ego soared that I could elicit such a response from her.

Sheila sagged against the couch, gasping for breath, slipping her fingers between her legs to massage her satisfied sex. She smiled sublimely, looking at me over her shoulder. Her cheeks glowed; her eyes were dusky. "Ready for Number Six?"

My heart skipped a beat as I wiped my sloppy mouth. "Six?"

Sheila grinned, then straightened. She turned and crooked her finger in a 'come hither' way, reaching for the door. "Come on," she said.

Anxiety flashed swiftly through my brain. "Sheila! We're naked!"

She giggled, and jerked open the door, silhouetting herself against the glow from the security lights on the apartment buildings. "Yeah. Easier to fuck without clothes on, you know," she said. Amid more chuckles, she stepped out, spreading her arms and spinning around. Sheila, obviously, loved being naked outdoors, and did not care if anyone saw her.

And at – I checked my watch – just after two-thirty on a Wednesday night, who would be awake to see? I'd had just enough to drink that my simple rationalization, along with Sheila's tempting charms, were enough to sway me. Forsaking any thoughts about discovery, arrest, and humiliation, I jumped out the door, following a laughing, giggling Sheila as she ran naked toward the parking lot.

I never thought that running with an erection would be painful. Well, not painful, actually, more like distracting. And uncomfortable. The damn thing slapped against my legs and abdomen as I chased Sheila around the cars. Her face was glowing with child-like excitement as she faced me over the hood of a Firebird.

"You want me, baby?" she teased, firm little breasts swaying on her chest. Her image was vaguely reflected in the glossy paint of the car.

"You know I do," I responded.

She leaned forward, onto the car. "Then, come and get—" She cut herself off with a startled cry, as the Firebird's alarm blared through the air. We both looked toward my building, as lights flicked on behind windows.

"Shit!" exclaimed Sheila with a grin, and she darted for the treeline just thirty feet or so away. Her long dark hair flowed behind her like a wake.

I started after her, hearing Sheila's playful giggles even as I heard a door open behind me. Someone called out in startlement. "What the fuck--?"

I didn't look back. Enough for one of my neighbors to see two naked people running for the trees . . . they didn't have to know one of them was a neighbor.

Sheila's laugh echoed like a nymph's as she disappeared into the trees. I followed the rustling branches and foliage, thinking I was right behind her, but after a minute or two, she seemed lost to me. Little light penetrated through the leaves and branches, despite the time of year. It was pretty cold, below fifty I was sure. But excitement, exertion, and alcohol let me ward it off. Not to mention anxiety.

"Sheila?"

There was a long pause before I heard a slight ruffle in the bushes ahead. "Marco!"

I chuckled, moving forward. "Polo!"

"Marco!" she called again, her voice wavering slightly with mirth.

"Polo . . . ." I moved through the trees, pushing branches aside, feeling the course twigs scratch at my flesh. Shadows danced in the dim light. There was only the filtered glow of the moon to navigate by, and it wasn't much.

"Marco!" she cried, jumping in front of me, making me gasp. Sheila laughed, then bounced ahead, her little breasts jiggling and firm ass quivering, if only a little. She stood within a small clearing, running her hands over her body, drawing more attention to her tits and pussy. The moon overhead filtered down like a gentle spotlight, painting her body in a near-alabaster tone.

I stepped closer, my thickening cock leading the way. Sheila stared at it, face colored with lust, tongue wetting her lips. "Is that for me?" she asked huskily.

I nodded. "Any way you want it."

Her eyes flashed to mine. "Really?" she cooed, then turned about and settled her hands against a tree, arching her back and thrusting her gorgeous ass out. "Even if I want it here?"

I shuddered, stepping close, running my palms across her smooth, taut ass. "Is that Number Six?"

Sheila grinned at me over her shoulder. "Yes," she said.

I breathed in deeply, admiring Sheila's firm round ass. The thought of taking her that way . . . I had always wondered, and occasionally fantasized, about anal sex. I never thought I would be offered the chance to experience it in such a way.

"I want you to do it, Nate," she said softly, her eyes boring into mine.

I trembled with desire. "I want to," I said.

Sheila grinned. "Lick me back there again," she suggested. "Get it real wet. I mean, really wet."

I could only nod. I was directed by nothing more than lust. I lowered myself to a squat, and pulled her cheeks apart once more. Her tight little anus still seemed a little wet from my earlier licking, but I understood that it needed to be more wet. Slippery. Dripping.

So I licked her. Lapping, up and down. I spat on her asshole, prying it open with my fingers, and thrust my tongue inside. Sheila squirmed and moaned, digging her fingers into the tree she was braced against. I thought about getting her off that way again, but I knew I would not be able to wait. The heat of her ass, the kinkiness of the situation, the temptation of exploring a new horizon . . . .

I stood and pushed myself against her, reaching around to cup and fondle her breasts. Sheila moaned and gasped lightly as I pinched her nibbles, and rolled her hips in tight little circles. My cock slid between her legs, rubbing against her swollen, slick lips. I really did not care about the cold air, the skittering of invisible creatures in the darkness. I was in the Garden of Eden, and Sheila was my Eve. She had given me the apple, and I had taken the largest bite from it that I could.

I ran one hand down Sheila's taut abdomen as she writhed beneath me, sucked tenderly at her neck. She panted and moaned, reaching back to muss up my hair. She tilted her head, offering a sloppy, passionate kiss. "Fuck me, Nate," she hissed, reaching down between her legs and tilting my cock up. The head slipped between her silky folds, then further up, until I felt the tight, slick pucker of her asshole.

"You sure?"

"Fuck me!" she demanded, her eyes blazing with need and lust.

I stared into those gorgeous, dark eyes, feeling my soul being drawn out and into them. We both drew, and held, our breath at the same moment. And then I pushed.

Sheila whimpered. Her eyes quivered. Her brow furrowed as I felt that pursed opening slowly spread around the head of my dick. The tightness was unreal; I actually had to push, harder than before, and despite how wet I had made her passage, the friction was nearly painful. I grunted as I felt a near-ripping sensation around the head of my cock.

"Oh, God!" panted Sheila, shaking against me. She slapped her hand to the tree, knocking off bark. She worked her mouth like a fish out of water, and I suddenly felt her anus relax. Taking advantage of the moment, I shoved inside, feeling the head pop into her rectum.

"Uhn! Oh, fuck!" Sheila muttered, hanging her head. "Slow, baby . . . go slow . . . ."

That was a request easier to agree to than obey. With the relaxation of her muscles, I felt that I could plunge into Sheila to the hilt with but a single thrust. But even in my inebriated state, it was obvious to me that Sheila needed to adjust. I even wondered if this was the first time she had ever had anal sex.

I braced my hands against the rough bark of the three above Sheila and slowly, steadily, eased inside her. It suddenly struck me, in a moment of stupefied wonder, that I was actually fucking Sheila's ass. Her ass!

I groaned loudly once I had driven every inch of my length within her. I felt the sopping wetness of her pussy against my balls. Her rectum burned like a furnace through my cock. Never had I ever felt something that was both so pleasurable and also invasive.

"Jesus, Nate . . . it feels so huge inside me . . . just . . . just hold it there. Lemme get used to it."

I leaned into her, savoring the moment, the heat, the unbelievable reality of the moment. I could feel every pulse and throb of blood coursing through my shaft, since it was so tightly pinched by her anus. Sheila took deep breaths, even as she moved a little, grinding her ass back against me. After several long, sweet moments, she reached back and settled a hand on my hip, pushing against me.

I took the hint, and pulled back. An inch or so of my dick slid out of her. Sheila grunted, then curled her fingers, digging them into my flesh, pulling me back. I slowly eased back in, moaning at the feel. For a long time, we savored the union, caressing and holding each other. Sheila's anus relaxed more and more, yet remained the tightest opening my cock had ever plundered. Eventually, I grabbed her hips and began thrusting in and out of her, steadily increasing the pace. Sheila murmured and mewed, sometimes wincing, but more and more grinning.

"Fuck me, baby," she growled at last, throwing her head back. "Fuck my ass."

Those words were the strongest aphrodisiac I could have ever experienced. Encouraged by her submission, I held Sheila's narrow waist as I pounded into her, watching my dick sliding back and forth, surrounded and caressed by that wondrous red ring of muscle.

"Oh, yeah! Yeah! Fuck me, baby! I'm gonna . . . oh, fuck!"

Sheila came, and came hard, heaving and shoving back against me. I relished the hard, sucking motions of her ass, the splash of warm wet fluid against my balls. I fucked her hard all the way through her orgasm, eliciting another, then another. I was possessed, driven by lust and love. I wanted this to last.




By The Numbers Ch. 04



But it could not go on forever. I felt that incredulous rush after what seemed an eternity of plunging in and out, in and out. My balls were dripping from the wetness of her pussy, which they slapped against on each thrust. I could have kept fucking Sheila all night, I knew. But it wasn't to be.

"Sheila!" I cried.

Her face flashed to mine over her shoulder, a pained, impassioned expression coloring her rouge-glowing features. "Give it to me, baby!"

I knew what she wanted, and pulled my cock from her ass, making Sheila grunt with the unexpected vacation. She watched as I stroked myself rapidly over her taut cheeks, and we both moaned as my orgasm erupted from my cock in thick, milky pulses. Lines of cum splashed onto her cheeks and shot almost halfway up her back. I squeezed out every last bit, watching heavy dollops of cream falling to her ass, dripping down her thighs, and making the dark valley between her cheeks glisten.

Sheila cooed as she reached back and smeared her fingers in my fluid, then brought them to her lips for a taste. I pushed my cock back inside her ass, making Sheila sigh, and relaxed against her, holding her close. Her rectal muscles squeezed me tightly as I softened. I listened to the erotic sounds of Sheila sucking her fingers clean amid murmurs of content.

After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, the branches stirred before the march of a stiff, cold breeze. Both Sheila and I shuddered.

"B-baby?"

I nodded, knowing what she was going to say. "Yeah. Come on," I urged, pulling out and taking Sheila's hand.

"Fuck!" she exclaimed, then giggled. "I-it's f-f-freezing out here!"

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, holding her close as we made our way through the vegetation. "H-hey, it was y-y-your idea," I chattered.

"Sh-shut up," she said with a laugh. "G-get me back home b-before your s-s-spunk freezes to my s-skin."

I laughed, but felt a sudden warmth. She said, 'get me back home,' I thought. I grinned all the way back to the apartment.

To be continued . . . .



By The Numbers Ch. 05



Valentine's Day was the second busiest day of the year, I had heard, after Mother's Day. I couldn't imagine a restaurant more bustling than what I witnessed that late morning, when I arrived for work at just before 10:45, seeing a crowd of guests awaiting the opening of our doors.

The business of the day kept my mind occupied, so much so that, when two dozen red roses arrived for Sheila around two in the afternoon, I was not there to observe her initial reaction. But I did hear her excited cry of, "They're from Grant!" as she inhaled their fragrance. And I watched as she hugged the vaseful of thorny stems, as if holding her beloved Mr. Lawyer, carrying them back through the kitchen.

It was fortunate, then, that I managed to catch the second delivery man just half an hour later, spying him through the double front doors. I stepped out quickly, as the pudgy guy – about my age –- held up a crystal vase full of roses on his way to the restaurant.

"Who's the lucky girl?" I asked, sounding casual.

He gave me an annoyed look. "Some chick named Sheila," he said.

I frowned. "Oh. Damn. She doesn't work here anymore."

He almost dropped the vase, his frustration more than evident. "What?"

I forced a laugh, pulled out a ten-dollar bill from my bank. "Look. They're already paid for, right?"

The guy shrugged. "Yeah."

"Give me the flowers," I said, and pushed the ten-spot into his hand.

"Uh . . . sure," he responded.

I took up the flowers, went back inside. Trying not to think of Sheila and the way she was bragging about the flowers her boyfriend had sent, I settled the vase on the hostess stand, giving the girls there an amiable smile while deftly (I hoped) taking the card and slipping it into my apron. "Happy Valentine's Day," I said, then stepped away.

***

Sheila was positively glowing for the rest of the shift. Naturally, with her constant bragging about how 'sweet and thoughtful' Grant was, I didn't want to hear it. So, of course, I avoided her. It was pretty childish on my part, of course, but I wasn't thinking much differently than when I had been seventeen or eighteen. I felt snubbed.

My mood wasn't easily assuaged by the fact that I waited on doe-eyed lovers all day, staring at one another with stars in their eyes. From young couples on their first date to septuagenarians celebrating their fiftieth anniversary, reminders were constant that I was going to head home and spend the rest of the day alone. And frustrated.

Sheila, I figured, could tell that I was spurning her. At first, following the arrival of the roses, she gave me sort of sheepish, almost apologetic, looks. But as I continued to avoid her, she became quietly defensive, and spurned me in turn. Whenever I would meet her eye, I would receive nothing but coldness.

I had not had the chance to enjoy a smoke break all afternoon, so when four-thirty came, and my relief was taking over my section, I hustled out to the back dock for some much-needed nicotine therapy. There was no one else back there, and I relished the lack of cacophony as I lit up. Ah . . . just a few minutes of 'me' time . . . .

The door flew open, then closed quickly. Sheila stared at me, her expression somewhere between anger and sympathy. "You haven't been talking to me," she said.

I ground my teeth a moment. "Enjoying your roses?" I asked acidly.

Sheila crossed her arms, her nose reddening a little. Her eyes drifted away as her lips twitched in thought. "Are you jealous?" she asked.

I blinked, my ire instantly inflamed. "'Jealous?'" I echoed, nearly shouting the word, making Sheila blink. I backed off, suddenly confused as to how I thought. "No, of course not," I said with a measure of calm, pulling on my cigarette.

"Look, Nate," she said. "You knew I was with Grant when we started fooling around. And . . . I like hanging out with you, but if you're gonna be like this, maybe we should just stop."

I knew I was infatuated, then, because her threat all but literally made my heart leap in my throat. Sheila had me wrapped around her finger, and I abruptly realized it. I could suddenly feel myself becoming, and looking, contrite. "It's not . . ." I sighed, pausing, trying to find a way to both endear myself to Sheila and keep my machismo intact.

"I don't want to stop."

Sheila softened, smiling slightly. "Look, baby, you've been really cool with keeping this private. That's why I keep coming to you. I like being with you. It's like . . . I don't have to worry about anything when we're together. I really need that."

There was something behind her words – I really didn't recognize it consciously at the time, but still, it was there, and I somehow sensed it – that made me feel bad for avoiding her. Sheila suddenly seemed frightened, like a child in need of a friendly and recognizable face. The dynamic, it seemed, had shifted. Maybe she was the one who needed something.

I met her eyes, slightly quivering as they were. "I don't want to stop," I said again.

Sheila didn't speak. For a long moment, neither of us even moved. She just stared. I waited for her to do or say something. Finally, she did.

She took two quick steps, breathing in deeply as she did so, and grabbed my head. The kiss she gave me was fierce, hot, desperate. She moaned into my mouth, undulated her sweet body against mine. I felt like she was going to suck my heart out through my mouth, such was the intensity of her kiss.

She finally pulled back, just a little, giving us both room to breathe. I inhaled her scent, caressed her back. "I wish I could have you tonight," I whispered.

Sheila took a moment to compose herself, then backed off, not looking to me. She seemed suddenly embarrassed, perhaps even dazed. "Um . . . I still got a table," she said, then turned to the door to the restaurant and yanked it open.

I watched her go, even more perturbed than I had been before.

***

I tried to wait for Sheila after I had finished with all my duties, but I began to feel more than a little self-conscious, hanging around my car and smoking my second cigarette within fifteen minutes. I waved to a few of my friends and co-workers, some of whom gave me wondering looks as they went to their cars.

I felt, foolishly, that I was risking the revelation of mine and Sheila's 'romance' by lingering. Reluctantly, I slid behind the wheel and headed home.

***

I tried to absorb myself in my collection of Star Wars games on the Xbox. But shooting down tie-fighters and slashing up bad guys with a lightsaber did little to preoccupy my mind from mine and Sheila's conversation. I wanted to be with her, that much was a given. More than that, though, I wanted to explore that brief moment's vulnerability she had shown me. I wanted to learn why she 'needed' to be with me.

I had stepped through the door around five-thirty, changed into a pair of sweatpants, and jumped on the game. By seven, hunger was gnawing at me, so I ordered a pizza, which arrived just before eight. By nine, I was feeling morose, thinking what a loser I must be to be alone on Valentine's Day. What a loser, for being in love with a woman who only wanted to 'hang out' with me.

I became dulled by the game I was playing, caught up within its intricacies, for which I was at least subconsciously glad. The hours ticked by. I ate pizza and sipped soda, oblivious to the world ticking by outside.

Then came the knock.

I frowned, in the middle of a particularly decisive battle in the game. I almost thought about ignoring the knock, thinking it was one of my neighbors complaining about the noise. But the second series of rapping made up my mind, and I paused the game, getting up.

I didn't bother with looking through the spyhole; I simply turned the locks, and opened the door.

Sheila gave me a nervous look as she stood before me. She wore a tight red dress and high-heeled sandals with straps that wound all the way up her calves to her knees. Her perfume was sweet, but not strong. Her hair was almost professionally coifed, her makeup perfect. She looked like a woman who had spent the night on the town. "Can I come in?" she asked demurely.

I stepped back, sensing something very different about her. "Sure," I said. "You okay?"

Soft dark eyes glanced around my apartment. "You got something to drink?"

I sighed inwardly, shook my head. "No, sorry."

She shrugged slowly, still averting her eyes from me. "Doesn't matter, I guess."

I frowned. "What doesn't?"

Sheila didn't answer me. Instead, she let her eyes drift slowly up my body, until they settled upon mine. "You want me?" she asked.

"Yes."

She smiled suddenly, but it was a mirthless one. "I mean . . . you want me."

I understood, and nodded. "I'm in love with you, Sheila. I want you. All of you."

Silently, she closed the door, then reached behind and unzipped her dress. It fell amid a soft flutter around her ankles, leaving Sheila deliciously nude save for her shoes and what little jewelry she wore. "Take me. Any way you want."

***

I had a hundred questions for Sheila. I wanted to know why she had come over, at one o'clock in the morning, after having obviously spent the evening with her boyfriend. Had she dumped him? It was the most likely possibility, considering how she seemed skittish, anxious, and apparently in need of affection.

I wanted to ask her. I needed the confirmation of my suspicions. However, when you're a twenty-year-old man, faced with the most beautiful naked woman on the planet . . . well, rationality just seemed to fly out the window.

My romantic mind was in full gear, however, as I lead Sheila to the edge of my bed and set her down. I knelt on the floor, making us nearly level, and gazed into her eyes. "I love you, Sheila," I said. "And I want to prove how much."

She trembled slightly, her eyes becoming dewy. "Oh, Nate," she said, then smiled and sniffled. "I-I love you, too," she whispered.

We kissed, slowly, longingly, letting our passion simmer. My hands wandered over her body, cupping warm, full breasts and running down that taut, slender torso, while hers remained upon my shoulders. Very gently, I lay her back on the bed, slipping between her legs as she parted them. Pushing her breasts together, my tongue danced back and forth between her stiff, dark nipples. Sheila sighed in passion, hissed loudly when I sunk my teeth into one of the dark buttons.

"Yes," she panted as I made my way down her body, feeling the muscles of her abdomen moving beneath my lips. "Yes, baby, please . . . ."

The aroma of her sex was the purest I had ever inhaled: the scent of rising bread, mingled with olive oil, with a hint of sweat and the salty-sweet tanginess of the sea. I breathed in deeply, filling my cells with the fragrance. Sheila spread her legs wider, reaching down with her hands to pull gently at the back of my neck. I glanced to her face, seeing the need there, the desire.

Keeping her eyes locked with mine, I lowered my head and pressed my mouth to her pussy, sucking the bulging lips into my mouth. Sheila's eyes fluttered closed, her head falling back on the mattress. For long moments, I simply drew out her flavor with my mouth, massaging her labia with my tongue. I wanted to savor the moment, that first, incredible moment, in which I truly began to make love to the woman I adored above all others.

Sheila's passion simmered quickly, and she drew her hands up her body, caressing her skin while gently rolling her hips. I felt her clit against my upper lip, watched her hands squeeze her breasts and pull on distended nipples. I licked further inside her, curling the tip of my tongue so that it rubbed her clitoris from beneath. Each time I did that, Sheila jerked with a tiny spasm of pleasure.

I kept licking until I felt her pussy contract against my tongue and tasted the sweet flavor of her cum. Sheila had never been quiet during orgasm before; she merely panted and sighed, her body stiffening. Her fingers dug slightly into my skull, holding me in place as I devoured her sweet juices, then relaxed as I pulled back.

"Kiss me, baby," she whispered, beckoning me to climb up over her. I did so eagerly, settling between her legs and leaning over her body. Our lips met as my engorged cock pressed against her pussy, seeking the intense heat within.

Sheila broke the kiss after licking my lips clean of her essence, and gave me a twinkling smile. "Not yet, baby. Lay down."

I started to protest, the sublime lips of her cunt spreading around the head of my dick. The temptation to just plunge in, to take her, and feel those magical sugar walls sucking me in . . . but I could not deny Sheila anything she wanted. I figured that was going to be a running characteristic of our relationship.

With a smile, I rolled onto my back. Sheila got on her knees beside me, beautiful face glowing from her orgasm, and reached back to let her hair down. She ran her fingers through it, all the while smiling upon me. Then she leaned over, kissing my lips tenderly before leaving a slow, weaving trail down my body. The closer those lush lips approached my cock, the more excited I became. By the time I felt her breath on the crown of my dick, my shaft was so hard it stuck up like the rod of a sundial.

"Oh, baby, you're ready for me, aren't you?" she cooed.

"I figured . . . that was obvious," I groaned. My hands massaged her back and right thigh as I felt her firm, wet tongue gliding along the length of my cock. She licked with long, sweet strokes, lapping my dick, tasting the rigid skin. I squirmed when her lips brushed the very tip, her tongue licking out oozes of pre-cum.

Sheila shifted, swinging her leg over me until she was comfortably settled in a sixty-nine atop me. "I'm gonna suck you dry, Nate," she declared heatedly. "And then we're gonna fuck all . . . damn . . . night . . . ." She punctuated her statement with a low, rumbling growl that became muffled when her lips slipped around my cock and slid all the way down. I grunted, gripping her cheeks, when the head of my dick popped into Sheila's throat.

Her pussy was swollen and wet, shining in the soft light of my lamp. The delectable view of those sweet lips and her puckered anus above me was erotically inspiring, and I dove in, licking and sucking with gusto. I suppose my passion inspired Sheila as well, for she moved above me like a lioness devouring her prey, all but growling around my cock.

Sheila came amid muted whimpers and moans, never removing her mouth from my dick as her pussy spurted onto my tongue. I kept licking her, probing her anus with my fingers, keeping her cauldron boiling while the powerful surges of my own orgasm finally built up to the point where I was about to burst.

Sheila was bobbing furiously on my cock, using just her mouth, sucking hard and fast to coax out her reward. I could not have denied her skill and yearning even with a gun to my head.

"Sheila!" I gasped. "I'm cumming!"

She responded with a needy moan, then plunged down, all the way down, taking my dick into her throat. I felt her chin pressing into my abdomen just as my cock tensed and began spurting. The automatic swallowing motions of her esophageal muscles added an intense dimension to my orgasm. Ejaculating directly into Sheila's throat was mind-numbing. Electric. Religious.

I shook and gasped beneath her, my pleasure intensified to near pain when Sheila, no longer able to hold her breath, slid up my dick and bobbed once more, sucking me dry and getting a taste of my seed. She moaned softly, sucking with a tender sincerity that kept the sensations just below agony. I could feel my cock seeping into her mouth as she held me there, her tongue lightly caressing, her lips gently massaging.

My mind was numb with pleasure, my body nearly paralyzed with ecstasy. I could barely stroke Sheila's back as she settled upon me comfortably, hugging my hips with her arms and laying her head on my hip. My cock never left her mouth as she sensuously, lovingly, milked me.

***

We awoke after a while, uncurling from each other, and shared soft, sweet kisses. Sheila snuggled against me, her back to my chest, my arms around her, and took up the remote. She flipped through the channels on TV before settling on a rerun of an old sitcom.

"You hungry?" I asked, brushing her hair from the back of her neck and kissing her there.

Sheila giggled softly, hugging my arm tight around her body. "After what you just fed me?" she asked playfully.

I rolled my eyes at her words, but the way she was so casual about our coupling was both arousing and heartwarming. I kissed her neck again, nipped at her ear. "I love you," I whispered.

Sheila said nothing, just closed her eyes – I could see her face in profile – and nibbled her lip. "You're a wonderful man, Nate," she said, her voice slightly choked. She tilted her head enough so that she could meet my eyes. "I'm really glad I met you."

I touched her chin, graced her lips with mine for a moment. "I'm glad I met you, too."

Sheila smiled, a genuine, grateful smile, then settled back into the protective frame of my body. "I think, right now," she said. "I'm the happiest girl in the world."

I smiled. "And I'm the happiest guy."

***

By the time the rerun was over, Sheila and I gave in to passion once again. This time, after licking and sucking each other in preparation, Sheila got up from the bed and leaned against the counter of my breakfast window. She moaned, sighed, panted and groaned as I fucked her from behind. The gentle sensuality we had experienced before was now replaced with animalistic fervor. I slammed into her hard, making sweat-slicked skin smack loudly against sweat-slicked skin. Sheila's volcanic orgasms all but shook the walls and rattled the windows.

We rested for a bit, then went at it again, this time with Sheila on her back on the couch, her legs curled back until her knees framed her head. She madly fingered her sloppy, drippy cunt as I plundered her ass. Sheila was all but fixated on the sight of my cock sliding in and out from between her cheeks. She erupted three times, literally spraying fluid onto my abdomen the last time, before her inordinate sexiness had me cumming at last.

After recovering, panting and sweating, from our shared high on Elysium's clouds, Sheila pulled me to the bed and spooned up against me, wrapping my arms tightly about her under the comforter. I was a little surprised, but very grateful. Sheila had never evidenced that she wanted to spend the night before.

Just further proof that I was now the man in her life, I reasoned with a smile on my face, and fell asleep, inhaling the sweet aromas of sex and love.

***

Thankfully, neither Sheila nor I had to work the following day. I had classes, of course, but I elected to skip them. I had never done so before, so I figured a single day's absence from my collegiate life could be forgiven.

We awoke late, yawning, stretching, giggling and kissing. Like newlyweds after the first night of a honeymoon, I thought, as Sheila rolled atop me. Waking up with an erection was a constant in my life at that age, and she was quick to take advantage of it, slowly impaling herself on my manhood while staring down into my eyes. Following a pair of sweet, mewling orgasms on Sheila's part, I finally came inside her. Then, indulging in her kinky side, Sheila let my seed dribble out of her pussy and back onto my cock . . . which she proceeded to lick clean.

We showered, and Sheila ran down to her car – nothing on but one of my shirts, which did not hide much – to get her day bag. We wore jeans and T-shirts, held hands the way lovers should, as we did a little light shopping, saw a movie, and had an early dinner. We shared kisses constantly, and Sheila was smiling all day.

I couldn't help but think, I make her happy. I'm the man she wants. And I don't have to be some rich lawyer to do it.




By The Numbers Ch. 05



Sheila's exhibitionist nature sprung out as we drove back to my apartment from dinner. Though sated on filet mignon, she was obviously in the mood for more meat, judging by the way she slinked across the seat and began rubbing me through my jeans. The sun was descending, painting the world with twilight contrast, giving more than enough light for occupants of other cars to see what Sheila was doing.

"You know what I really like about you, Nate?" Sheila asked as she undid my jeans and tugged on my fly.

"What's that?" I asked, looking around with only slight nervousness as Sheila pulled out my cock and began stroking it. Her face hovered just about a foot above my crotch.

"I like that you let me do things like this," she said, then lowered her head and swiped her tongue around the head of my dick, while her hand pumped up and down.

I concentrated on the road, conscious of wondering eyes looking inside my car, watching Sheila's head floating over my lap and occasionally descending. "You really think I'd ask you to stop?"

She lifted up slightly, laughing softly, her breath warm and moist on my cock. "Some would," she said, then plunged down, slipping my dick all the way into her throat. I couldn't hold back a grunt of passion as Sheila deep-throated me, sucking arduously all along my shaft.

I got off the main avenue, looking for a secluded place. Just after six o'clock on a weekday, there was quite a bit of traffic. I wondered how many people would be going home to wives, husbands, friends and lovers with 'I saw a girl giving road head!' on their lips.

A large parking lot, mostly empty save for a few cars parked close to a brown-bricked building, called to me. I pulled in past the sign that advertised a private high school, found a spot beneath a broad elm with branches that showered the car in shadow.

I pulled Sheila's head from my lap, her mouth open and wet, dripping with spit and pre-cum, and pushed her back across the seat. She had already undone her jeans, and we both worked hurriedly to get them off. Within moments, the jeans were tossed on the dash, and her legs were splayed wide. I sunk inside her with a grateful moan, and Sheila curled her legs around my back.

"Oh, Nate," she deplored. "I love fucking you."

I smiled down upon her as I thrust in and out of her. "I love fucking you, too, Sheila. I want to make love to you every day for the rest of your life."

She smiled sweetly, lifting her hands to caress my face. "Tell me you love me," she said.

My heart soared. "I love you, Sheila," I said. "I always will."

She grinned, then closed her eyes, emitting small gasps with each deep plunge I made inside her body. At that moment, as we both climbed the precipice of bliss together, I felt that a pact had been sealed, an arrangement akin to a marriage formed. Sheila was mine, and I was hers. Our shared cries of ecstasy as we came at the same time only served to cement that feeling.

***

Sheila left me with a dreamy kiss that evening, after we had showered together. I watched her dress and apply her makeup as she sat on the edge of the bed, stood with her by the door for a parting kiss. As her lips left mine, Sheila backed out, smiling sweetly. She took my hands, pulling them with her.

"I wish I knew why I was so lucky, Nate," she said.

I smiled back. "I think I'm the lucky one," I said.

Sheila stared at me a moment, her smile frozen. Then she suddenly rushed me, hugging me close, squeezing me like a sumai wrestler. She didn't kiss me; she just hugged, with a sense of fierce, desperate longing. Then she stepped back, her eyes dripping the faintest trickles of tears down her cheeks.

"I love you," she whispered, then stepped away, walking briskly. I stepped out on the tiny landing of my front porch, watched Sheila break into a jog as she headed to her car.

The anxiety I had always felt before at such partings returned. My chest suddenly felt tight. Reluctantly, I slipped back through my door, and closed it.

***

Despite the emotion surrounding that departure, I headed into work the following afternoon walking on a cloud. I grinned at the hostesses as I stepped through the front door, and held my chin up as I made my way back to the kitchen. My life was perfect, as far as I was concerned; I was just a year and a half from graduation, and the most incredible, beautiful and sexual woman in the world was mine. I almost felt like shouting my joy to the world.

I did not notice the conspiratorial buzz amongst my fellow coworkers at first. I saw a few of them cluttered at the usual places – the end of the kitchen, out at the server islands – undoubtedly sharing the latest gossip. I went through my usual ritual; I always showed up early for my shift, so I could grab a soda and smoke a cigarette on the back dock before taking my first table.

Andi gave me a tentative 'hey, Nate' as I passed her; I grinned foolishly in return, riding my emotional high, and headed to the back with my glass of Dr. Pepper. Beneath the slowly-fading sun, I lit up and exhaled smoke. All is well in the world, I thought.

The door opened as Andi stepped out. Her face was solemn as she gazed upon me. "How you doing, Nate?" she asked.

I grinned. "Never better," I said, then frowned. "You okay? Something wrong?"

Andi regarded me a moment, her lips parting slowly. A heavy sigh left her lips as she shook her head ruefully. "That bitch," she muttered under her breath.

I looked at her curiously. "Bad day?" I asked.

She held out her hand. "Got a smoke?"

I dug out my pack, becoming more perturbed by the moment. "Hey, something wrong?" I asked. "You have a bitchy guest or something?"

Andi took a cigarette, leaned in as I lit it for her. "I had a two-top, earlier," she said. "Happy couple. Just got engaged. Huge fucking diamond on her finger."

I chuckled. "Kind'a makes me think about what—" I began, but Andi cut me off.

"Turns out, the guy's a lawyer," she said, giving me an intent look. "Just got offered some serious job with a law firm halfway across the country. They're leaving tomorrow."

I frowned again. "Um . . . cool," I said, not sure where Andi was going with her story.

She sighed loudly in exasperation. "Holy fuck, Nate!" she cried. "How stupid can you fucking be! It was Sheila! She's done! She's gone! She got up and told Juan that she quit! Right then and there! No two-weeks notice, nothing! She's getting married, Nate!"

I stared at Andi, my hand shaking. The glass slipped and shattered on the ground, spraying shards and dark liquid across my shoes. I didn't really notice. "No," I said in denial. "No, that's not true." My heart was hammering with anxiety and fear. A sudden storm of emotion welled behind my eyes.

"Then call her," Andi said in a simple voice. She dug out her phone, and held it out for me.

For a long moment, an eternity wrapped within a second, I didn't move. Then, tentatively, I took Andi's cell. She had called up the number in her phone's memory. All I had to do was hit 'send.'

I listened to it ring on the other end. Once, then twice. Then came the mechanical voice: "We're sorry, but the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected—"

I tired it again, even as I felt the film of tears begin to coat my eyes. "We're sorry, but the number you are trying to reach—"

I slapped the phone closed, handed it back. I was suddenly having trouble breathing. The tears began dripping down my cheeks.

"Nate," came Andi's sisterly voice as I sagged to the ground. "Nate, come on. Just breathe, okay? Just breathe . . . ."

***

Juan, my manager, was a cool guy. He had been divorced twice, so I suppose he understood why I had suddenly become a vegetable. Andi's explanation – which, apparently, included a summarized version of mine and Sheila's relationship – seemed to persuade him, and he let me go home. I don't think I was ever as humiliated as I was that night, stomping through the kitchen with my face reddened and dripping with tears, the eyes of my friends and coworkers upon me.

I tried calling Sheila as soon as I got home, and got the same message that I had heard on Andi's cell. I called again and again throughout the night, to no avail, and thanks to the beer Andi bought for me, drank myself into oblivion.

She stayed with me for a while – Andi, that is – listening to my ranting, my venting. I told her everything, and she withstood the brunt of my emotional whirlwind like the white cliffs of Dover against a maelstrom.

"I love her," I lamented at one point. "How could she do this—"

"You love the idea of her," Andi interjected pointedly. Her eyes darkened. "Sheila doesn't love anyone."

I wept some more, guzzling beer after beer. Eventually, I passed out, and Andi tucked me into bed before leaving.

***

It took a few weeks before I was no longer a rude, morose asshole at work. The truth of mine and Sheila's relationship had become fairly widespread, and while I was praised by many of my male friends, offering comradely high-fives for having 'bagged' Sheila, I hated their words. And neither did I much appreciate the sympathetic musings of those who told me they 'felt' for me. Eventually, however, I began to accept what had happened.

Sheila had used me, for whatever reasons. I was the 'nice guy,' the 'quiet guy.' I was the sort of willing stool she could wrap around her finger, use for her own whims and pleasure, and still be assured that I would keep quiet. Because that was the kind of guy I was. The moment I understood and accepted that, I became a different man.

Sheila still had her friends amongst the employees at Jersey Jacks, and when the invitations for the wedding came out, they gleefully showed off theirs. But not to me, not directly. Apparently, thanks to Sheila's spinning of the facts, they had come to believe that I had made everything up. So they shunned me. Fine with me; I had no desire to humor the vapid supporters of Sheila's lies.

The wedding, I came to discover, was set surprisingly soon, in July. I had figured that a man like Mr. Lawyer, with his undoubtedly conservative family, would want a longer engagement. Guess I was wrong.

I had fallen into an equilibrium by that point, having focused much of my anger and disappointment into work and studying. Ironically enough, by the end of the spring semester, my grade point average had jumped a quarter of a point, and I was asked to become a trainer at Jersey Jack's. I suppose there is a lot to be said for sexual and emotional frustration.

Around the first week of July, I was working my usual station. Being a trainer meant that I got to pick my schedule, so I always worked the same shifts every week. On the day in question, I was closing the lunch shift, and looking forward to a day off. The afternoon had become pretty slow following the lunch rush, and I had only a single table that needed little attention. I was hanging out at the bar, bullshitting with Ace, when a customer came in. He looked past me, and his face blanched.

I turned slowly, and just . . . stared.

Sheila had cut her hair short, to just above her jaw line, where it flared out. She wore a yellow blouse and a tasteful skirt. The large diamond on her finger glittered obtrusively. Her wide, dark eyes found mine quickly as I pushed away from the bar and faced her.

"Hi."

I stared at her for a moment. It was hard to fight down the instinctual arousal I felt when in her presence. "Hi. Long time."

Her eyes darted away a moment, and she blushed. "Yeah."

I stepped closer, feeling a sudden desire to unleash all my anger, pain, and frustration upon her. But I held it back. "The date's getting closer, huh?"

She nodded, still not looking to me. "Just a week, now," she said.

I gritted my teeth a moment, then forced a smile. "Good for you."

She sighed deeply. "Look, Nate, I wanted to—"

I cut her off, taking one more step, which had me looming over her. I spoke in a low voice, so that only she would hear the words. "I honestly don't care what the fuck you want," I said. "I loved you, I wanted you, I wanted to be the guy you would wake up with every morning. And you made me think that would happen."

She huffed. "I never said—"

I leaned in. "No, you never did," I said. "Not with words." I stepped back. "Go away, Sheila. I don't want to play with you anymore."

I left the bar, giving Sheila one last look before I disappeared into the kitchen. She wore a stunned, incredulous look, as if she had expected absolution from me. My words, I later realized, had bit deeper than I had intended.

Epilogue

I hadn't been sent an invitation to Sheila's wedding, of course, and I doubt I would have gone even if I had. By all accounts, it was a beautiful, inspirational ceremony. Sheila looked beautiful in her long white gown and twenty-foot train, according to her friends who still worked at Jersey Jack's. I didn't want to look at the pictures, and no one offered them to me.

By the end of the summer, after turning twenty-one, I seemed to have assumed the throne of 'king shit of thunder mountain.' I had the respect of those I worked with, and garnered more from those whom I trained. I was enjoying my job, my position. Juan even mentioned to me that, once I got my degree the following summer, I could have a real future as a manager.

Just before classes started in the fall, I trained a cute, demure young woman named Jackie. She had the sweet features and natural blonde hair one might expect from a stereotypical small-town girl growing up in the Midwest. Having just moved to the south from Ohio, she was understandably reserved and shy, and kept her distance from all the lechers who deigned to prey upon her. More often than not, following her training, she would come to me with questions.

It was not long before I began to realize it was more than simple professional admiration which compelled Jackie to seek me out. Thanks to Andi and a few others, I learned that the innocent-eyed teenager (she had turned eighteen just a week before she came to work for us) had a crush on me. I found that arousing, and . . . intriguing.

One night, during the first week of September, I headed out to my car, lighting a cigarette. I heard the tortured spin of an engine that would not turn over, and looked to see cute, blonde Jackie behind the wheel of her car. It took but a moment for me to make a decision. I approached her car, stepping around to the driver's side, and rapped on the window.

"Hey."

She looked to me through the glass, her wide blue eyes almost fearful. But she smiled with relief upon seeing me, and rolled the window down. "Nate. Thank God. My car won't start," she said petulantly.

I smiled. "Come on, I'll give you a ride. And if you need a ride in the morning, I can pick you up."

Jackie's face glowed as she smiled. "Really?"

I chuckled and nodded. "Come on."

Jackie got out, and followed me silently to my car. She had eschewed her work shirt, and wore just a loose tank that covered full, bouncing, and obviously braless breasts. I opened the passenger door of my car for her, and she gave me an impressed look and smile.

"Where do you live?" I asked once I had gotten behind the wheel.

She paused for a long moment, making me look to her. I noticed her eyes darting away from my crotch. "Um . . . you're twenty-one, right?" she asked cagily.

I chuckled. "Yeah."

"Can we get some beer?" she asked, then quickly added: "I'll pay."

I chuckled, pulling out of the parking lot. "Tell you what," I said. "Let me get it, and we'll drink it together."

I glanced to her for a moment, saw her demure, but sexy, smile. "Sure," she said. Her hand tentatively reached across the divider between the seats and touched my thigh.

I breathed in. "Jackie."

"Yeah, Nate?"

"You ever hear of . . . doing it 'by the numbers?'"

Her eyes wandered a moment, and she shrugged. She was still smiling. "Um, no. What is it?"

I just grinned.

-finis-