By nature, I am a voracious planner. Every aspect of my life is thought out beforehand, then written with perfect penmanship inside my daily log. My spice rack is alphabetized, my panties sorted by style and color, even my refrigerator is strategically organized by food groups. I wake at precisely five o’clock every morning to begin a daily routine that never wavers. One cup of coffee that I sip while perusing the newspaper, followed by a shower. The next sixty minutes are spent styling my hair, applying makeup and dressing in the outfit I laid out the night before. Every button is fastened, every detail is scrutinized. It is my life, my way, my choice.
Not everyone agrees with the way I do things, unfortunately, which I suppose is why I was served with divorce papers last year. George and I were married for ten months before he packed up and moved in with his mother, citing “irreconcilable differences” as the cause of our breakup. When I pressed him for more details, this is the conversation that followed:
“Help me understand, George. Perhaps I can change.”
George rolled his eyes at me like an impudent child. “Change? You? Is there room in your daily schedule for that?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You schedule everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.”
He threw his hands up, which caused the sock he was holding to fly across the room. I hurried after said sock, attached it to its partner, and then placed the pair in the cardboard carton he was filling with his belongings.
“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about. We’re in the middle of an important discussion and you go chasing a fucking sock! And don’t get me started on your daily routine. At first, I thought your need to organize was sort of cute. But when you scheduled our sex life, well, that was the last straw.”
“In my defense, I scheduled five separate slots for sexual activity. I fail to see how you could possibly complain.”
He sank onto the bed and sighed. “The sex was great, Doris. Otherwise, I would have left after the first week.”
“So, this is it? Our marriage is over?”
“Yes, it’s over. Mainly because you drive me up the fucking wall.”
“I see.” I peered into the carton he was holding. “You’ve packed that all wrong. Toiletries should be placed in their own container, in case of spills and such.”
After I helped him repack all of his moving cartons, I said goodbye to George and married life. Living alone again gave me ample time to reflect on my life in general. I wondered if I was too tightly wound, and fantasized about how my life might change if I could become more spontaneous. Such ideas led to thoughts of sex, and since I wasn’t getting any, those thoughts began to drive me crazy. I was bursting with pent-up sexual longing and feared I might implode. After I confided in a female friend, she offered to set me up with a gentleman acquaintance of hers. To make it less awkward, I decided I would host a small dinner party, so that I could get to know the gentleman in question before making my decision to proceed with a proper date. The guest list and menu were carefully chosen, keeping in mind each person’s dietary requirements. All that was left to do was purchase a protein selection for the main course. The local meat market was well known for its quality cuts, so I stopped there on my way home from work.
The bell on the front door tinkled merrily as I pushed it open. Immediately, the smell of raw meat permeated my senses as I headed toward the counter. Behind pristine glass was a dazzling display of filet mignon, New York strips, even some lovely prime rib beef roasts. Leaning over the counter was an equally ravishing display of meat. Man meat.
My body tingled from the inside out as my eyes roamed over his bulky frame. He was roughly six foot six, with bulging biceps and a cleft in his strong chin. Wavy dark brown hair spilled over his collar, giving him a bit of a devil-may-care aura, which I have only recently found appealing. The hunk was deeply engrossed in a paperback novel. It was quite a treat to come across a man who was not only devastatingly handsome, but a voracious reader as well.
“Hello?”
He startled a bit, then peered up at me with vibrant blue eyes. “Oh, hello, miss. I didn’t even hear the bell.”
“John Grisham?”
“No, the name’s Mack.”
“I meant the author.” He flipped the book over and glanced at the cover.
“Right, Grisham. I’m at the exciting part.” He set the paperback facedown on the counter so that the pages were splayed open.
“Tsk, tsk. You’ll break the spine that way.” I dug through my pocketbook and found an old receipt that would serve as a proper bookmark. I tucked it inside his book, and then placed it back on the counter with a flourish. “There. Much better.”
“You must really love books,” Mack said with a grin.
“Yes, I’m a librarian, so I suppose you could say books are my life. I also write in my spare time, although I don’t have much of that.”
I made a big show of peering into the glass at the slabs of red flesh, hoping he would notice my ample cleavage. In an attempt to break my routine, I had purposely left a few of the buttons on my cardigan unfastened. The thought of his deep azure eyes roaming over my breasts made my panties dampen.
“I’m hosting a dinner party tomorrow night. For six.”
“Did you notice that I have crown roasts on special this week?”
“Yes, I did. They are quite tasty, aren’t they? I just adore the little paper frills that cap each bone, as if the dinner itself dressed up for the occasion.”
“Always enjoyed that myself, although I’m usually afraid I’ll end up eating one by mistake.”
He erupted in the most delightful laugh, one that was deep and rich. It was then that I noticed the adorable dimple in his right cheek, and was overcome with the sudden urge to dip my tongue inside of it. Thoughts of seducing him flooded my brain, but did I dare? He was a stranger, albeit a lovely one, so bulky and masculine. I was newly divorced and a bit shell-shocked but aching with sexual needs. The ticklish feeling in my clit spurred me on, and I decided to flirt a bit.
“So much delicious looking meat. This eye of round roast is so plump. Do you think it would be juicy?”
“If you cook it nice and slow, it would be very juicy.” The way he drawled the words made my nipples hard.
“Hmm, so many choices. I like the look of these T-bones, they’re so thick, I can almost feel them in my mouth.” I licked my lips for emphasis.
“Are you stuck on beef? The reason I ask is that I have some great pork loin over here. If you marinate it for a few hours, it’s very succulent.”
I ran my fingers over my throat as I perused the selection. The tangy smell of blood mixed in with the musky scent of Mack’s aftershave was making me delirious. A trickling sensation distracted me as I grew even wetter between my legs. I wondered if Mack could smell my sex, and the thought made my cheeks blaze crimson.
“I do love pork.” I looked up at Mack and smiled. The front of his apron was stained with reddish-brown blotches. His barrel chest pushed against the rough fabric as he leaned over to get a better look at me. “It has a nice mouth feel, almost sensuous.”
“You’re right, miss, pork also has a very delicate flavor.” Mack ran his fingers through his hair, and shifted from foot to foot. I could tell I was getting to him, which excited me even more.
“Indeed. So delicate, it’s almost sweet, don’t you think?”
“Definitely. These butterflied pork chops are nice. What do you think?” Mack asked as he ran his thick index finger down the splayed center of one pink-fleshed chop. It reminded me of a woman’s labia, spread open and dewy, waiting to be massaged by a warm, wet tongue.
“Those do look very tender.”
“They’re even better if you pound them a little.”
Mack teased the fatty edge of the pork chop with his fingertip, and I whimpered slightly as I imagined that same finger teasing my clit as I lay before him, naked and willing. I nervously tucked a lock of red hair behind my ear as I browsed further. A row of fat chicken breasts caught my eye. Since we were teasing each other so well, I couldn’t resist remarking on them.
“These breasts are so voluptuous, I suppose the men at my dinner party would quite enjoy them.”
“Some guys like large breasts. Me, I’d rather sink my teeth into this nice rump roast over here. See how nice and round it is?” He gave it a pat and I giggled.
“Your sausages look divine. Do you stuff them yourself?” They were plump, and so perfectly phallic, I longed to put one in my mouth, even in its raw state. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of my neck, and my heart began to race.
“Sure do. My grandfather’s secret recipe. I use all natural casings. Mine are a little longer and fatter than most, so they fill up the bun real nice,” Mack said with a wink.
“They certainly are. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any that were quite this stout. I mean, they’re positively swollen. May I get a closer look at one?”
“Sure.” Mack pulled a square of wax paper out of a dispenser, then reached into the cooler and wrapped it around one of the links. He handed it to me like it was his own cock. I almost swooned.
“They look even bigger up close.”
“I stuff them good.” Mack watched in fascination as I squeezed the tube of meat in my fingers, then inhaled the aroma.
“I love the smell of fennel. It’s so sensuous.” I looked at the piece of beefcake behind the counter and smiled. “It feels so good in my hand, I would love to feel it in my mouth.”
“If you like that, I have something in the back room you’ll like even better.”
“Really? I would be quite interested.” I bit the tip of my index finger, then darted my tongue over it. “Quite.”
The small gesture was not lost on Mack. He walked around to the front of the counter and took my hand. I almost hesitated. Engaging in impromptu sexual acts with perfect strangers was not in my repertoire, but the longing won out. I dropped the sausage on the floor as we quickly headed to the rear of the shop. “It’s back here, in my office.”
Mack’s office was a cramped room containing a desk, a chair and a filing cabinet. As soon as the door was locked, I dropped to my knees, lifted Mack’s apron and nuzzled his generous bulge. He let out a small groan as I unsnapped his jeans and yanked down the zipper. With both hands I gripped denim and silk together, then tugged. Mack’s hard cock made a grand entrance, a sight that made me quiver.
“My, my, this is grade-A prime.”
“It’s also aged to perfection.” Mack chuckled. “What’s your name, beautiful?”
“Doris.”
“Well, Doris, you aren’t like any librarian I’ve ever met before.”
“Darling, I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
It is my sincere belief that you can’t even begin to know a man until you have been nose deep in his manhood. Oh, how I love to pleasure a beautiful cock with my mouth, and Mack’s penis was especially alluring. The silky shaft was the perfect length and width; it stretched above a lightly furred sac that hung heavily between strong thighs. I couldn’t wait to taste every glorious inch. First, I lifted that erect cock and sucked one firm testicle into my mouth. My nostrils were filled with the heady aroma of meat juice from Mack’s apron mingled with the spicy scent of his scrotum.
“Is that one big enough for you?” Mack’s voice was husky with lust, and reverberated down my spine.
“Yes, it certainly is. It’s perfect. Thick and meaty, yet tender and succulent.” I circled the flared head of Mack’s cock, and tasted the delicious saline fluid that dripped copiously. “It’s also delectably juicy.”
As I sucked the spongy tip, I cupped the balls in my right hand, and kneaded gently, while my left hand snaked into my moist panties. My clit felt like it was three times its normal size and throbbed exquisitely. I took as much of Mack between my lips as I could, and reveled in the feeling of my mouth being so delightfully full of cock.
“Oh, baby, that’s damn good.”
“This hunk of meat needs to be savored.”
I nibbled on the tip and Mack let out a sexy growl. His fingers curled into my hair as he arched his back in pleasure. I slid my tongue up and down the full length of his shaft, then buried it in the recess that was just under the tip.
“That’s really nice.”
I loved the fact that I was pleasing him, crouched with my knees pressed against the dirty linoleum like a common tart. I pulled his cock straight down, then licked the place between it and his pubic hair. My nose was buried in the bristly patch and I inhaled. He smelled of shower gel and lust, of raw meat and testosterone. I stood up and looked him in the eye.
“I’m really in need of a nice stuffing.”
“First, I need to taste you.”
Mack removed his apron, then lifted my skirt while I bent over the desk. He pulled my pink lace panties down to my ankles, and then carefully worked them over my shoes. My moist folds were twitching under his gaze as he spread me open wide. He groaned as his tongue took its first taste.
“Even better than the finest filet.”
His tongue flicked over my clit, then worked its way up to my opening. I surrendered completely, giving in to his warm mouth.
“Am I tender enough for you?” I asked, somewhat breathlessly.
“You sure are, baby. And juicy, too. It’s dripping down my chin.”
His lips returned to my clit and he tugged at it firmly, while I writhed in pleasure. I lifted my body slightly, and pulled up my cardigan and bra together. I loved the way the cold metal desktop felt against my hard nipples. My ardor grew until I was ready to burst.
“Please,” I moaned.
“Not yet.”
Mack continued to dazzle me with his amazing oral talents. His tongue traveled from the tip of my clit to the top of my asscrack and every place in between, over and over until I was almost pleading for mercy. When he paused to tease my anal bud with the tip of his finger, that’s when I began to really beg.
“Please, I need you inside. Now.”
Mack pulled me up until I was leaning with my back against his broad chest. He teased my nipples with his fingers as he kissed my neck.
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Yes, don’t make me wait.” My voice sounded thick with desperation, which mirrored what I was feeling. Nothing else in the world mattered except that man’s hands and that man’s cock. I wanted to be fucked hard and proper. “Now, Mack.”
“You’ve got it, kitten.” Mack turned my body around to face him, then lifted me by my hips. I wrapped my bare legs around his waist as he impaled my pussy with his stony cock.
“Yes, yes, fuck me!”
I crossed my ankles behind his back and drove him in deeper. His hands were gripping my ass, and he had no problem holding me up with his muscular arms. Without warning, he leaned in close and captured my lips under his. This anonymous afternoon fuck had turned into something else entirely. Waves of delicious excitement coursed over me as his tongue and his cock invaded my flesh.
Mack leaned me up against the doorway, while he continued to thrust. I gripped his shoulders and felt my body clench as I was brought to the edge of climax. My clit was rubbing against his coarse pubic hair, sending ripples of euphoria racing through my core.
“So tight and hot,” Mack murmured.
My pussy tightened around him like a bear trap as I surrendered to orgasmic bliss. Soft mewling sounds floated up from my open mouth as I squeezed him between my thighs. He sped up his rhythm, causing the door to bang loudly on its hinges. Then he slowed down, turning his movement silky as his fingers caressed my ass. One finger slid between my cheeks and teased my puckered hole.
“Would you like…?”
“Yes, I would like. In fact, I demand.”
He pulled his cock out of my pussy, then stood me on my feet. My knees threatened to give out, so I quickly bent over the desk once more. Mack gently kneaded my asscheeks while he covered the small of my back in kisses.
“Mack, please, I need you, now!”
His cock was so well lubed from my own juices, it slid inside easily. I could hardly breathe as the tender area was stretched and filled so carefully by Mack’s large shaft. He was gentle and slow, taking time to let me adjust before burying himself inside.
“Oh!” I gasped when he began to thrust in short, pleasing strokes. “It’s so divine!”
“You’re a dream come true, Doris,” Mack murmured.
His cock pulsed inside my ass, taking me once again to the pinnacle of climax. He came first, filling my insides with liquid heat. Then I fell over the edge, clamping down upon him as I slammed into a powerful orgasm. I gripped the sides of the desk and hung on for dear life as the tiny aftershocks made my pussy tremble with delight.
Mack rubbed my lower back as he pulled out. I felt his semen drip down, soaking my already wet folds with his sultry essence. Like a true gentleman, he wiped my bottom with some paper napkins, before pulling me into his arms and covering my face with kisses.
“Where have you been all my life?” he said huskily against my lips.
I couldn’t speak. All I could do was cling to him while I tried to catch my breath. We stood there in silence for a few minutes, softly caressing each other as we floated back down to earth. Mack finally broke the spell, and helped me back into my panties, then adjusted my skirt while I pulled down my bra and buttoned my sweater. I carefully tucked his spent cock inside his jeans and zipped his fly. We walked back out into the front of the shop, holding hands and smiling.
“I think I’ve decided on the crown roast,” I said breathlessly.
“Perfect choice.” He weighed it, then wrapped it in crisp brown paper and placed it into a grocery sack. “On the house.”
I blushed as he handed me the bag. “Thank you, Mack.”
“You’re welcome, Doris. By the way, I’ll have New York strips on special next week.”
“I’ll be sure to stop by. Very sure.”
“And I’ll be sure to stop by the library.”
I headed for the door, and then stopped. Schedule be damned, spontaneity was my newfound friend. “What are you doing right now?”
Mack’s eyes lit up. “I was going to take one of these filets home and grill it up. Maybe make a little salad.”
“How about this—you grab two of those, and follow me back to my place. I’ll cook while you pour the wine.”
“And will you be dessert?”
I grinned, cheeks flushed, heart racing.
“Play your cards right, and I might even be breakfast.”