The end is the means

Auto-posted at 2:00pm as I am on a flight from Europe back to Chicago.

Kari and I spent that night together, but we didn't fuck. Oral sex was good to both, really good if you consider how few women can make me come from a blowjob. I slept in her bed but woke up much earlier than her. It's a blessing and a curse for me: 3 hours of sleep and I'm revved to start my day.

It sucks when it's the first night over at a dame's place, though. I don't want to be "that guy" who gives a gal a good time and then shovels off before she awakens. Note that even with booty calls and friends-with-benefits, I'm still a gentleman out of the bedroom. I woke up at sunrise feeling a lot of pain in my bruised side. I turned over and looked to see Kari still sleeping, her blanket pulled up to her belly, her perfect tits and gorgeous long neck showing minor signs of my come from not many hours ago.

She's pretty, but not stunning, but she sleeps smiling, and that's a pleasure to wake up to. I get up and her hardwood floors creak, so I use my silent-walk technique to get myself to the kitchen to scrounge up some food. Her fridge isn't too packed and neither is her freezer, so I ring up my assistant who happens to be in the city and ask her to pick up some eggs, cheese, a tomato, an onion and a package of mushrooms. 45 minutes later and my assistant is meeting me out front on this cold spring day.

I find her frying pan (which needs a mean cleaning) and some oil (which I am hoping isn't rancid) and whip up an omelette (4 egg, thankyouverymuch). I sit in her living room window, grab the notepad and pencil that my assistant brought me, and take the notes that cover the journal leading to now.

Where am I going with this? Is she going to be my first one night stand, or is she looking for a lover for those lonely summer nights? Will she booty call me (I haven't done the booty call thing in 2 years) or will be be friends with benefits, or just friends who never approach the bedroom again?

It doesn't really matter, but I find myself enamored with her body. She has the shoulders and neck and back and arms that I love on a woman; her belly is almost perfect. She's confident and studious, works a regular job for regular pay, and isn't too spend-thrifty. She won't be a sugar-baby because she doesn't care for material things like I do.

At about 10am, I hear her get up. Walls shake from the floor that creaks, so I stand up and walk to the kitchen to get the frying pan going again. A little oil (ok, a lot of oil), crack the first egg and there she is: wearing new panties but also wearing my dress shirt from the night before. Women, I know it's cliché but wearing a man's shirt is hotter than hell. It's an ego stroke to end all ego strokes (other than bragging to your friends about us).

She has a smile on her face, asks me what I'm doing. I'm making you breakfast. "That makes it two for two then." Huh? "Most guys don't make me come the first time we fool around, and no one makes me breakfast." I guess you'd hungry, right? "Sure."

I slice up some more tomato and onions, drizzle oil on the mushrooms, and toss up a perfect omelette a few feet in the air as I flip it to completion. A little cheese (read: lot) and flip it onto her plate.

My shirt is unbuttoned on her body, and it's making Little Fire Hydrant perk up a little. I'm wearing my jeans, but I don't want to be uncomfortable so I start thinking about what I should do today. I'm on a break from a hellacious winter work schedule, with no major travel plans ahead. Money is good, plans with family are set, most of my friends are busy with family and work, so I have as much time as she has for me to stick around.

"So," she said, chomping down her omelette gracefully. So? "I think we should fuck." Ok, I agree with that. "No, I mean after I brush my teeth." Uh oh, LFH bounces up a bit more. "Do you have condoms?" Of course I do. "Let me finish this and you can meet me in the bedroom." I didn't say I agree to this idea. "You will." She removes my dress shirt and lets it fall to the floor. She wins.

She gets up, her tits even better than I had expected, and strolls to the bathroom to scrub that morning breath from her mouth. I already took care of brushing my teeth (my overnight medicine bag has it all). I watch her stroll out of the bathroom and remove her panties in the hallway as she disappears into her bedroom. I grab my medicine bag, double-check to make sure my favorite condom is at the ready, and head on it.

She under the covers, which is a bit of a thrill killer. But she's smiling, which balances it well. A sexy woman with a sexy smile basically tell me to get inside of her is probably the hottest thing a woman can do, short of wearing glasses. I get into bed, crawl under the covers, and she immediately rolls over to her side to clench her body against mine, her head on my chest.

"I said it last night, I don't want a boyfriend." I know, that's a good thing. "Let me say that I haven't had a lot of guys I've fucked, but they all get emotionally attached and annoy me quickly." I won't. Who's to say you won't be the one to get all weak-kneed for me? "Maybe I will."

She turns her face up and I bend my chin down and we try to kiss. It didn't work as well as it does in the movie, but I like kissing her. I like knowing this beautiful and sexy lady wants my dick in her.

We kiss for quite awhile, her hand stroking my cock readily without my prompting. The gal can kiss, that's for sure. And her moans are ambrosia to this lover's ears and body. My hands dance playfully on her body and I find her spots are her neck, her back just under her shoulder-blades, her forearms and her legs just below her hips.

"I want your dick in my mouth again," she says. I nod my head no, letting her know non-verbally that I want to save it for her pussy. I flip onto my back and pull her on top of me, my cock throbbing between my belly and hers. She pulls her hair out of my face and smiles at me, causing me to smile back. Then I laugh, which makes her laugh, too. Laughter in bed really is funny. And sexy.

We kiss some more, my hands in her hair and her hands in my hair, then she pulls back again. "I should let you know, I don't ever come from penetration." Never? "Never." Do you get close? "Sometimes." What breaks it? "I don't know." Willing to work on it, seriously work on it? "I want to, but seriously sounds scary." Give me some time and we'll find a way to do it.

With that, she crawls her face down my chest to my belly, my thighs, and envelopes my cock in her mouth. I moan, and she strokes my cock with her two hands below the head while popping the head in and out of her mouth, keeping her tongue on the parts that matter. The gal is really good at this. She'd get a mouthful every day if it was up to me.

After a good ten minutes of fantastic sloppy head, I pull her face off of me. She resists a bit, really liking my cock hitting the back of her throat. A few times she almost had her face buried in my pubes, but she gagged enough that she had to withdraw. I know she's one who can overcome that gag reflex, which means some furious and aggressive throat-fucking to come. Lucky me.

I pull her up to me and roll her over, pushing her shoulders down. I want to get on her back so badly, but she pushes my head to one nipple and screams at me to lick it. I do, but I still tease enough that she pulls my cheeks down to it against my will. The more I fight, the more she moans. My hands are on her forearms and her back, eliciting moan after moan.

"I think you need to fuck me now." I think I need to lick your pussy and clit for a half hour. "No, I need your cock inside me."

While she is straddling me, my cock laying on top of her shaven pubes, I reach over and grab my medicine bag. As I reach for a condom, the bag topples over to the floor, spilling the entire contents across the hardwood. Shit. She laughs, as do I.

I get between her legs, on my knees, and stroke my cock a little bit more to regain the hardness I like for penetration. It's not as hard as it can be, but that's LFH for you. I'm not nervous, and she spreads her pussy and tickles her clit herself while I open the condom, squeeze the tip, and unroll it over my cock.

Her eyes are on me, not on my dick. I push her hand away from her pussy and rub my cock her across her lips and lightly on her clit, which is fully engorged and ready for a good licking. She smiles as I tease her, battling my tease with her own goading glances. I put my cock between her pussy lips, the head just barely penetrating them and look at her. She nods. As I push in slowly, I realize she is completely soaked, but her pussy lips are full enough to prevent major spillage. Her smile retreats and her eyes open nearly to the point of bugging out.

"Fuck, that's thicker than it looks" she says as I slip the cock head in finally. "Ohhhh, fuck that's good." Yes, tell me that. "I love it, put more in." I need to hear that you really want it. "Ohhh I really want it" she says as I slide another inch inside.

"Fuck, put it all in." I refuse, putting only the first three inches inside of her, then pulling out to make sure she's wet enough. "No, put it back in" she implores as I pull out almost entirely.

She grabs my hips and pulls me, and I give her a little power as I slide back in, only 3 inches. Her pussy is wet and fairly tight, paying the rent expected from my cock landlord. "God damn, put it all the way in." I nod my head no, smiling nefariously as her eyes pop out again when I give it a little more penetration than before. "Yes, like that. Please fuck me." Why? "I need it, so bad."

I push in further, spreading her legs a bit more on the bed and laying my own body on top of hers. "Oh God please more." I pull out again, grabbing her biceps in my hands as I kiss her. Her eyes are still opened as I push in another inch, leaving the final inch outside.

"Ohhhh my" she moans. I love her verbal openness. My cock is now almost entirely inside of her, but her moans cause it to get thicker than usual. "Oh fuck, I can feel you stretching me." I look at her eyes, which are open but dazed.

I pull my cock out almost entirely, leaving just the head in. I pull one hand down from her shoulder, lick my thumb, and put my hand flat on her belly with my thumb on her clit. "Oh God, yes. Please fuck me now." I abide by her request and push my cock in, feeling it thicken at the looks she's giving me, at the "O" shape of her mouth that wants to speak or moan but can't.

I still don't give it all to her. I leave the last inch out, but she doesn't know it. I pick up the pace, leaving my thumb barely touching her clit, almost no pressured contact, just warmth and touch. "God I needed this, I needed your dick so bad." I'm fucking her faster now, still refusing to push entirely in.

"Yes, fuck me, Sane." Do you like my cock? "Ohh, I love it." You know it's in your pussy, right? "Oh God yes, it's amazing." We kiss, me temporarily withdrawing my hand from her clit as I embrace her face. We kiss, and I slowly penetrate and withdraw, forcing myself to withhold from entering her fully.

As we kiss, I nuzzle my cheek to her cheek, kissing her cheek, forcing her to kiss mine. I let her kiss my chin, my nose, my mouth as I continue to pummel her slowly and softly.

As I return my finger to her clit, I realize just how wet she is. She's loving every minute of this. I give it a little tickle, just a touch of pressure. Her eyes close as I push into her, stretching her, while giving her clit just enough attention to make her feel filled and attended to.

She's biting her lip, moving her head to one side as I continue my rhythm, trying to find the rhythm that she needs. I continue to thumb her clit, and suddenly her pelvic bone is pushing against me in rhythm to my cock falling into her. That's just the sign I need. Instead of pressing harder on her clit with my thumb, I push down on her pubic bone, right under her pubic hair. I massage her clit still gently with my thumb, but the pressure on her pubic bone causes her eyes to open, she screams "My God, don't stop" and then closes her eyes again.

As I push onto her pubic bone, I thrust my cock into her, still refraining from giving her the last inch. She starts making moaning noises, and her hips are thrusting back at me, knowing subconsciously themselves that there is more there to conquer. I pull out entirely and slide back in, pushing down on her pubic bone with each thrust, removing pressure a little with each withdrawal.

"Fuck, don't stop, please don't stop." I say nothing and continue the rhythm, the pressure on and off, the penetration and withdrawal, increasing the speed at which my thumb is circling her clit, but not increasing the pressure yet.

Finally she gets there "Oh fuck, I'm coming, please, please." I laugh a little inside, wondering what she's begging for. Her clit pushes up at my, and only then do I push back with my thumb. I also push down on her pubic bone as hard as I can, finally pushing my cock all the way into her, completely. "Ohhh fuck yes, fuck fuck fuck, yes, God yes." I stop fucking her, at least I don't withdraw anymore. Instead, I push my cock as deep as possible, holding her hip with one hand, keeping my cock as far in as possible.

My other hand is pushing her pubic bone down, my thumb is pushing and releasing against her clit in the exact rhythm I was fucking her before. I keep my cock pressed inside of her, and feel her body quake. Her chin is aimed at the ceiling, her face tipped backwards, her tits are up as her back arches. I keep my cock pushed in, but I withdraw the pressure on her clit. I still keep my hand pressed against her pubic bone, as her hips push back. My cock is soaked.

Finally she comes down. "Oh God no, I'm I'm" I look up and her eyes are filled with tears. No sad tears or happy tears, just emotional release. "I'm sorry" she says as she closes her eyes, pushing tears down both sides of her temples. I laugh a little, release my hand from her hips and clit, grasp her shoulders and put my chest on hers as I nuzzle into her neck.

"Oh God I didn't think THAT would happen." I chuckle again, saying nothing.

She takes 15 minutes to come down entirely. My cock is still hard, still inside her. Finally, she lets out a final strong breath. "Ok, wow. Just. Wow." I smile as she sees me watching her face.

"Shit, did you come?" I nod my head no. "Oh crap. I don't think I can handle anymore fucking." I smile and nod and begin to pull out of her. "NO. Don't pull out, just don't push in yet. I think I'm sore." Hah!

"Holy crap, what the hell were you doing to me?" Nothing, just investigating your body. "No, I mean that crazy shit with your hand on my pubes." Oh, just seeing what brings you off. "Fuck yeah, you can do that shit always. I love it."

We kiss again, and I fight hard not to fuck her. At this point, I could actually pound the hell out of her for 2 hours, she was that sexy and gorgeous when she came on my cock. But I can tell she's sore, I was letting her pussy adjust to my cock by not giving her all of it, and then I gave her the last inch pushing past her adjustment/comfort phase. It's a cheating trick, for sure.

"I want you to come." I'm actually OK. "No, it's not fair." How many times has a guy fucked you, come, and left you without anything? "Always. Well, often." So what's wrong if we consider the job done here this morning, and I'll get a little extra attention next time? "It's not fair to you." I just got to fuck you, I got to see your first good orgasm from a cock, I had my cock in your mouth for 10 minutes, what's the problem? "You need to come." How about I take a rain check? "Did you lose respect for me?" I laugh LOUDLY. Fuck no! I'm just happy with what we just had.

"Are you sure?" Yes, I'm sure! "I can suck you off again." I know you can, but I'm honestly OK.

I withdraw. My cock is still hard and she doesn't believe me. I'm honest when I say that orgasm is not the end result. Fucking isn't the end result. The end isn't justified by the means, the means are what matter. We had sex, really good sex. Not for very long, not very hard and hot and heavy, just a good fucking. She needed it, and I wanted to be the one to give it to her.

Sure, I'm horny, but that doesn't mean I have to satiate my desires right now. For me, I was just happy to please her. If it happens again, and I know it will, she'll get her chance to give me something and not get anything in return. Until then, we'll be pals. Good pals, I hope, but pals first. The next fucking can wait for another day.

Anonymous Female Chicago Blogger #2

What should I call these folks who I read and who may read me? AFCBs? Argh.

Today I went to look at a filly, a young female horse. When they walked her out, I noticed she's way too small and way too fat. Not what I like. 14 hands is too small for me, even though I'm a short guy. I like big beasts. So I rode her for 15 minutes and realized it wasn't going to work.

Will see another filly this week, and a gelding colt next week. Hopefully one of the two works. They're both convenient to my home.

After the ride, I decided to head into the city to see some friends later. I was going to just sit at an outdoor patio, smoke a ceegar, have a nice cold drink and let the day pass. I brought my tiniest of netbooks so I could even get some writing done on an assignment due Saturday.

Instead, I received an invitation from Anonymous Female Chicago Blogger #2. I already met one Anoymous Female Chicago Blogger last week, and had a great time. Since I'm always intrigued by writers, and the vast majority of those I communicate with are strangely female (not strange themselves, of course), I figured I'd take up her offer to join her for lunch.

We decided to meet at a restaurant near her work somewhere in the mysterious city of Chicago. We texted back and forth, and she said she'd meet me there. I got to the city about 15 minutes ahead of schedule, so I ran to Walgreens to pick up some things. This particular Walgreens is home to 50,000 homeless people buying Snickers, at least it was today.

I hopped back in the car and zipped to the part of town where the restaurant is, a few blocks walk from her office. She asked me to text her when I was close. I paid the parking meter (2 hours, just in case!) and ventured down the street looking for the place. Being my clueless "blonde" self, I picked the wrong side of the street and likely walked right by her, only the turn around, cross over and notice her when I was making the double-cross to the other corner. Oops. Is embarrassment cute?

She was standing outside, looking surprisingly prettier and happier than I had expected. This is the second blogger I've met, but for some reason I always picture them in my head to be... not like the two I met. She was wearing a fantastic dress that should not be worn within 45 feet of a horny old man. No glasses, thank God (sunglasses on her head, though). Cute shoes, cute bag, not overbearing on the makeup from 10 feet. Surprising, considering the area she works in tends to be all bleach bunnies with too much face paint.

I walked up, said hi, shook her hand and proceeded to walk towards the restaurant. A little bit egotistical of me: when meeting someone you don't know and it's a random encounter, it always makes sense to keep them comfortable. We decided to sit indoors (it was a bit muggy out). The restaurant had maybe 2 tables with people, and we were seated by a cute hostess who played on the fun banter AFCB#2 and I provided.

It's good to see a woman smile. In fact, I would say that a woman's smile is probably tied for a woman's "Flush and I can't move and don't touch me until I can get my breath" look. She sat facing the door and I sat facing rows of empty seats.

The chit chat was good with no pregnant or uncomfortable pauses. I ordered a cocktail and she ordered her own alcoholic beverage, which to me looked like way more than her frame could handle in a weekend. She had to get back to work in an hour or so, alcohol being the preferred consumable for us both. We both took sips of our water glasses, and the drinks were presented quickly by our waitress, another cute 20-something who definitely did not want to be there.

She talked with me intruding a bit more than I normally do. Her eyes were curious and her smile contagious, but the dark cast behind her pupils showed that she was stressed. She mentioned this, and we talked about the lead-up to the stress in her life. I don't like to see people stressed, and I try to do my best to let them discuss things in hope that they find a new solution to the stress than what they're already letting weigh in on their chest (note: she had a great rack).

We jumped subjects like hipsters jump the turnstyles at the Red Line (one of Chicago's subways). The conversation started off with a bang, neither of us remembering to share with the other our real names (it came up, but it passed too fast). She's confident, with no obvious twitches, fidgets or lip biting (too bad on the last one). She does have a significant poker tell, a glance to the right when she's thinking deep about something.

That's a good thing, to see her thinking deep about what we talked about. There is always a way to get someone to realize a different path to take if they think deeply. I didn't know what to expect with her (we've never chatted or emailed before, ever), so to see her open up to digging into her cranium to produce answers (and honest ones, at that) was great. Seeing her think and respond and even react with laughter to some of my (not so great) comedy pleased me greatly.

Our lunch came and it was fabulous; I had chilean sea bass and she had a sushi-style roll. Since she made time for me out of her day, I offered to cover the first round of drinks. Food was the perfect size: neither her nor I were stuffed at the end. When our server came back, it was obvious she wanted to either spend some more time, or at least talk some more, so I offered to order desert. The desert was a cake, and as many people know I am anti-sugar and wheat. The cake came highly recommended, so we decided to share it (two forks) and returned to our drinks, our conversation. Her eye contact is fantastic, never breaking or falling away shyly unless she was deep thinking. I like that, it's rare.

Between obvious sadness over her stress point and unforced laughter, the conversation had a good rhythm to it. I interrupted to ask questions based on parts of her answers. The stress she has should be easy to overcome, but her answers to other seemingly non-related questions I pitched leads me to believe that she's still got a few weeks to get over it. Other things in her life should help, though, so I think she's going to be A-OK and soon.

I spoke a little bit about myself, which again is rare when I am talking to a woman. It's obvious we hit it off in some sort of odd virtual friend manner, and I do think we'll do it again. I am in her neck of the woods at least 2-3 days a week already, so lunch at the very least will be a possibly regular event.

Our desert arrived and we each ate 1/3 of it. It wasn't too sweet, and was a perfect end to a wonderful lunch. I'll return again. After paying the bill (she paid for her meal, I paid for mine, drinks and desert), we tipped and continued talking, well past the hour mark. Neither of us checked our phones or the time until we realized it was probably late. She confirmed it by checking her phone, and then we chatted some more, probably 20 minutes.

At the 90 minute mark, it was obvious she needed to go back to work. I doubt it was because the conversation lulled, but an honest need to be responsible. I can appreciate that. The waitress came and thanked us both for the generous tip (about 30%, but it was slow and I always tip at least 25% if the server checks on our water and drinks, which she did constantly). That was a nice thank you, too. Rare.

AFCB#2 and I walked out together to the corner, her work in one direction, my car parked in the other. I thanked her for a great meal, and we agreed to try it again in the future. Before I turned to leave, she says "So we don't hug or what?" or something like that, so I step forward and embraced her quite-perfectly-suited-for-my-size frame. This girl definitely can be a firecracker, she needs a strong guy to throw her up in the air, catch her on his shoulders, and parade her in front of the world. I'm sure a little of that would get her unstressed really fast. I hope she gets it, and soon.

She is smooth though, and she pops like a spark plug, so I think she'd be awesome to go drinking with. She mentioned that her life doesn't allow for much time or desire to drink, but we can change that, can't we? I think I can.