Her Teddy Bear (2 page)

“No, not
chunky
. I said hunky. Take a compliment, Trevor. You told me I was cute, and I took the compliment, even though I don't feel cute all the time.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “I'm
hunky
. I can live with that.” He tapped on the steering wheel, in rhythm with the song on the radio. “A cute girl says I'm hunky.”

I folded my hands on my lap and tried not to think about his dick. And how big it might be.

He had some pretty big boots on those feet of his. And his hands were a good size. I'd only been with men who had small hands and feet not much larger than mine. Shorter guys were always into me because they were taller than me.

If Trevor's boots were that much bigger than my ballet slippers, I wondered if we'd even fit together, if his cock would get all the way into me. I'd never used a big sex toy inside myself, so I had no idea. But I wanted to try.

He said, “Now whatcha thinkin' about?”

“How hungry I am.”

“Great!” He turned the truck into a parking lot and parked. We were at a place I'd never been inside, a restaurant called
Hank's Bar and Grill
. Don't let the name fool you, though, this was no dive, no greasy spoon diner. It was actually a high-end seafood place, the type with tiny portions on big plates, or so I'd heard.

He said, “I come here with a lot of business clients. I wine 'em and dine 'em and—”

“And sixty-nine 'em!” I finished. As soon as I said it, I felt my face flush red with embarrassment.

He turned off the ignition and turned to me, his face intensely serious. “Not unless they're cute,” he said.

I giggled nervously as I broke out in a sweat all over, my skin prickling.

He jumped out of the vehicle quickly and dashed around to my side. He opened the door and reached up for me. I could have easily stepped down on my own—my skirt would allow that direction—but I wanted his hands on me.

I clicked off my belt and moved sideways in my seat.

He took his time picking me up and setting me on the ground.

I slid my hand into his and we walked into the restaurant, hands clasped. Just like that, things got romantic.

* * *

Things stayed romantic all through dinner. We had nice wine, great food, and conversation. He was a good listener, enjoying my stories, which said a lot about him. I have this one anecdote, about a rather spectacular bike-riding accident I had when I was twelve. I'd tried to go over a skateboarding ramp on my pink bicycle and ended up with stitches. Some people laugh when I tell this story. Trevor gasped and held his hand over his mouth in horror. Even if he'd laughed at me, I probably still would have wanted to fuck him, but I would have felt conflicted. As it was, his kindness and compassion made me want to blow him right there in the restaurant, just for being such a great date.

He told me about his pet ferret he'd had growing up. He showed me some photos he'd scanned in and put on his phone, and I just about died from the adorableness.

As he thumbed through the photos, I asked him to stop and go back a picture.

It was him, shirtless, about to go white water rafting, by the look of it.

“Lemme see that!” I said, trying to get the phone away from him.

He pulled the phone away and acted embarrassed, but he caved and showed me the pic of himself, shirtless. He was hairy, yes, but he still had a lot of skin visible. Not too hairy. Not too hairy at all!

Seeing the image turned me on. My panties were getting a nice little flooding from the photo alone, and I'd be a waterfall for sure, if only he'd kiss me.

I flicked over to the next image on the roll, looking for another angle of him shirtless, and the next image surprised me. I was speechless as I stared at a picture of Trevor, still shirtless, standing next to a girl who could have been me. She wasn't me, of course, but a girl who looked more like a sister to me than my real sister, Nikki.

“Who's that?” I handed the phone back to him.

“Oh, shit. That would be the ex. I thought I deleted all those.”

The idea of her, of this ex who had not yet been discussed, passed over the table like a dark cloud.

I waited for Trevor to say something about our striking similarity, but he didn't. She looked so much like me, or vice-versa, since she'd been first.

The waiter came, cleared the dessert plates, and refilled our coffee. I tried to shake the image from my head, but I couldn't
un-see
it.

Trevor said, “You already know all about my work, but I've no idea what you spend your days doing.”

“How long were you guys married?”

He jiggled the ice cubes in his near-empty water glass. “That's not first-date conversation material.”

“Has someone been coaching you?”

He avoided my eyes. “I've been talking about myself all night.” He reached under the table with one hand and grabbed my knee. “Let's talk about you. About what you want.”

Rather than pull back, I slid down in my chair, letting his hand move a little further up.

“I'm not sure what I want.”

He leaned forward as much as he could with the table in the way. “Do you want to skip the movie portion of this date?”

His eyes burned at me.

Yes, I
very much
wanted to skip the movie.

The hand moved forward, inching toward my moist panties.

His breathing changed, and I imagined that big lump in his pants getting bigger, growing for me.

I sat upright in my chair, his hand now resting on my knee.

Casually, I said, “We could watch a movie at … your place.”

He nodded. “I have a big TV.”

I slipped off my shoe and slid a stocking-clad foot up his shin and then between his legs.

“I bet it's enormous,” I said, licking my lips.

“It's a good size.”

“Probably bigger than any TV I've ever seen.” My toes made contact with the lump in his pants, and I ran the soft pad of my foot up and down his erection. “Enormous.”

His eyes fluttered closed then open and he cleared his throat. “My TV hasn't been watched in a very long time.”

I gently massaged his cock with the sole of my foot, fascinated by how big it was getting. “Tonight may be a special night,” I said. “For your TV.”

He grabbed my foot as he looked me right in the eyes. He massaged my toes with his fingers as he pressed his hardness into my sole. With intensity, he said, “I don't know how long I'll be able to wait. My TV is dusty.”

“Let's go,” I said, pulling my foot away and backing up my chair.

He frowned and bowed his head. “Give me a minute.”

Of course, he didn't want to walk through a crowded restaurant with an enormous erection.

I stood. He'd already paid the bill, and I had an idea.

I pulled him to his feet and quickly turned around, pressing my backside into his hard bulge. I wrapped his arm protectively around my shoulder and said, “C'mon. Stick with me.”

“Like glue,” he said, and we walked out of the restaurant that way, with my hip protecting his modesty.

He kept bumping into the round of my ass and the small of my back with his hard cock, and I was nearly delirious with desire for him. I wanted to reach down into his gray slacks and hold it in my hands, feel its weight and heat.

We got out to the truck in the dark parking lot and he opened my door again. When he lifted me up, my hand went to his crotch and I squeezed at him.

He leaned in to give me a first kiss. He'd insisted we share each other's dishes over dinner, so neither of us would have to worry about our breath, and as he got closer, I was grateful for that. His lips met mine, and they felt like normal lips, then the beard and hair on his upper lip made contact.

The beard was actually soft—much softer than stubble.

He stood next to the truck, leaning in, and I sat in the passenger seat, leaning out, and we kissed, hesitantly at first. And then, he pressed harder against my mouth, his tongue thrusting into me hungrily, probing me.

I moved back and he moved forward. He reached down between my legs, pressed a button on the base of the seat, and the seat moved backward as the back reclined. The truck had a large cab with a second row of small seats in the back, and my seat nearly reclined to flat.

He climbed in the truck, still on my side, pulled the door shut, and shifted his body over top of mine. He was big, but the truck was big, too.

He was supporting most of his weight with one knee on the seat between my knees, and one hand on the console between the seats.

We kissed this way, lips meeting and pulling apart, tongues touching, hearts beating together.

I reached down with both hands and started working his belt, unbuckling it.

“Naomi!” he said, but he didn't stop me.

I got the front unzipped and released him, though he was still inside his boxer-briefs, a soft, stretchy fabric, black.

I stroked up and down the length of his hot erection, feeling the graceful curve of his head.

“Can anyone see us?” I asked.

“Who cares.”

“You're right.” I let go of his cock for a moment to ease his trousers down below his hips, feeling his round, muscular butt in my hands.

Next, I grabbed the elastic waistband of his shorts.

The reveal.

Just like those few seconds while your date walks around to the driver's side, this part is full of amazement and wonder.

Pulling out that glorious erection.

It was like unwrapping a gift.

We were cramped in pretty close together, with Trevor awkwardly above me in the vehicle, but I could feel the moist kiss on his shorts from his erection inside, letting out lubricant.

The interior of the truck was lit only by the dashboard light, pale green.

I had to pull hard on the elastic waistband to allow his big member out and pull the shorts down.

What a magnificent piece it was.

Tall and thick, just like Trevor. The skin was soft and smelled good. He was cut, though he had a little extra ridge of skin in the middle, and when I grabbed him in one palm, the skin moved in my hand, allowing me to stroke the shaft easily.

He was so hard that I could have used it as a handle and pulled myself up out of my leather seat.

I shifted my body under him and curled up so I could get that lovely, glistening head into my mouth. My mouth was watering for it. I could have just eaten him right up.

I popped the head into my mouth and swirled my tongue around, mixing his taste into my saliva and wetting him.

Far below, my pussy was also getting wet, excited.

I pumped my fist up and down on his shaft while I licked and sucked. There was no way the whole thing was going in my mouth, but I did what I could.

He said, “Damn, that's good.”

“Mm hmm?”

“I mean … damn!”

“Mmmmmmmmmm.” I moaned a few more times, letting the vibration of my voice tickle my mouth and his hot, throbbing cock.

“Uh-oh,” he said.

It got harder, thick and urgent in my mouth and he thrusted a few times.

“Mmmmmmmmmm,” I said again, then I moved the other hand to cup his balls.

Give it to me
, I thought. Give me your hot come, drown me in it.

I reached one hand around to his firm ass and squeezed it, encouraging him to come, to come in my mouth.

“Damn. Uh-oh.”

Around the fat cock in my mouth, I told him to go for it, to come in my mouth. “Give it to me,” I said between sucks.

I desperately wanted to feel him deep inside my aching, wet pussy, but I still had my tight-fitting skirt on, plus panties, plus (of all the stupid things) cable-knit tights. He was ready to come, ready to spurt, and there was no time or room in the truck to get him inside my body any way but my mouth.

Besides, he was young and hard, and he'd be ready to go again soon enough.

“Damn.” He thrust and tensed.

I paused before the finish, pulled back, and lapped at his head with the tip of my tongue. I kissed it lovingly, like a prize, then I licked all down the shaft, slowly, and then back up again. I plunged him into my mouth, and his balls tensed up with pleasure, readying for the blast.

My own pussy began to pulsate in sympathetic pleasure, coming with him in a sense, a sympathy semi-orgasm.

Ecstasy flooded me as his firm, hot cock pulsated and shot into my mouth.

I sucked and swallowed, eating him up, loving every taste of it, of his desire for me.

“Damn,” he said, and he bucked one more time, his cock still hard, still spurting.

As his spasms diminished and he groaned over me, I massaged the base with one hand as I squeezed his firm buttock. The bottom of my blow-job hand was half-buried in his dark curls. I stroked those silky curls and moved my hand through them. I kept him in my mouth without a guide, and allowed both of my hands to move over his torso, traveling up his stomach and to his chest. He had so much soft fur, like a teddy bear, and I wanted to curl up alongside him and nuzzle his neck, but we weren't exactly in a position to do that.

Slowly, he pulled back away from me, my leather seat underneath me creaking from the shift of our bodies. I gave the head one last swirl of my tongue and a good suck, with the head now softening and conforming to fit the roof of my mouth.

He eased out and pulled away from me, a little shaky, and then he said, “Damn,” and let a little of his body weight rest on me.

I kissed his cheek and said, “You're welcome.”

One of his hands snaked down under my skirt and deftly made its way under the tight waistband of my tights. His fingers nudged down, parting my slick lips, feeling around.

I gasped and shuddered, nearly climaxing on the spot

“Damn,” he said. “This is a really nice pussy.”

Breathlessly, I said, “Thanks.”

“I'm gonna take it home,” he said.

“Oh, yes.”

“And I'm gonna make you come, over and over again.” He fingered me, thrusting with two firm fingers, making me quiver.

“Oh, yes.”

“Unless you want me to do that right now.”

We were so tight on space, cramped together in one seat, but I wanted him, and I didn't care. His fingers felt good, so good, but I wanted his cock. I was so close to coming, but I started to think about us being in the parking lot, and people seeing us. I could wait, I decided.