The Magic Word
Updated: Apr 30, 2020
He gently grabbed the wine glass from my lips and leaned in to take its place.
Tonight I found myself at a chic downtown bar, locking lips with a total stranger.
He was of more gentleman than sleaze. The type of man you wouldn’t feel embarrassed waking up next to after several cocktails...
Which is really more than I could say about the Tinder date I left behind about an hour ago! Ugh, this guy's breath was appalling, his shirt was stained beyond repair, and he would constantly circle every conversation around politics and “what a nuisance our society is”. Do not ask me what I thought I saw in a smelly, cheap, wanna-be-business schmuck. Clearly some people are better left on Read. But enough about him...
This man. This sharply dressed mystery man with a 6 o’clock shadow and a smile with the ability to make my pussy instantly pulse… he made tonight worth living for. Perhaps I should thank the ol stinky politic dude. I mean, if it weren’t for his complete and utter bore, I wouldn’t have stumbled across this bar romancing about a needed glass of Riesling.
He placed a hand on the small of my back and gently pulled me closer.
“Let’s get out of here”, he whispered onto my neck before kissing it.
Goosebumps. Fuck it.
I responded by finishing off my wine, and gracefully accepting his hand.
His city loft was a mix of metal and brick: a man-cave at its finest.
He poured us a double whiskey on the rocks and lead me to his large sectional. I hadn’t even realized the lights had dimmed as we sat. Mystery Man is good. Too good. “Do you want to play a game?“ he asked. “I don’t know, do I?” I quickly gulped down my whiskey and mounted him. “You’re not allowed to moan.” “Wait. What?” What the hell kind of a pick up line is this? “Not without my permission.” He smiled. “That’s the game.” “You really think you’re that good,” I teased. “All you have to say is the magic word.” “What? You mean please?” I laughed. “Okay. Please.” He agreed. “Or else, no dick for you. Let’s see how long you can last.” “Hah, I accept this challenge.”
Without a second to spare, he grabbed my thighs, lifted me up, and walked over to his king-size bed.
He gently laid me down; my legs remained open for his tasting.
I found his desire to control and satisfy incredibly sexy. Playing his game, I bit my finger to stop from groaning out loud as he slipped off my panties and kissed my pulsing clit.
I grabbed his hair and pulled him in, thrusting myself all over his face.
Ughhh, he drove me crazy. He then sat up abruptly and flipped me onto my stomach, as if I weighed no more than a feather.
His hands spread me open from the back, my pink out for his full viewing pleasure.
I felt his tip caress my pussy, teasing his way in.
At this point I was soaked, and I couldn’t take it anymore. “Please.” I moaned. He begun to slide his cock in, slowly. “Please...“ He swiftly thrust himself in, deep. “Ahmmm, please!" He pulled me up onto my knees, yanked my head back with a handful of my hair, and whispered deeply, "you may moan now.” “Yes! Oooh, mmmmahhh!" I could feel him grow thicker with his every hard thrust.
We fucked for hours. My clothes were thrown over every piece of furniture...
I needed this. The funny thing is, Diary, I never even caught his name. Now to think of it, he hadn’t asked for mine. Nor do I care!
I caught an Uber at a quarter past 3 in the morning, still weak in the knees from the pounding I received; having left behind nothing but a lipstick-kissed napkin and the words “Thank You, Mystery Man" written atop. I hope we get another play day. Someday...