My last summer in Yuma, I was done. I decided I’d procure my MA in creative writing and get outa that town. The education system didn’t make sense (despite what people think not everyone is supposed to fulfill their college dream). And I was an odd English teacher in small school. Feeling outa place, I didn’t even date. It’d been a year since a man had been at my place. Tired of being alone with my cat, I ventured to a bar for a drink and some Marine eye-candy.
Rolling through the crowd to the very back, I took my big purse in my lap to an empty corner. I set my quarters on the ledge, slid my notebook out, and scanned the room for inspiration while I waited for my turn at the pool table.
I scribed some lines then glanced up to think, when across from the room, I saw a tan beautiful man looking at me. Medium but muscular build with blonde hair and a gleaming smile that made all the women stare.
“Way outa my league!” I thought there’s no possibility he’s looking at me. Yet, with my back to a corner, I knew me and wheelchair were the only things there. I wrote and played pool, acting oblivious to the man who kept watching my every move. Secretly in my head, I was scheming how to get him home to my bed. So, when he finally approached me at last call, I was ready with a line that no man could resist. My plan was perfect.
“You’re impressive.” He said, “I thought about playing you, but I shied away as I watched you kick everyone’s asses.”
“It’s a full moon. That’s my cue to play pool. Since my name is Luna, I know I’ll rule.”
“So you’re of the moon?”
“Ruled by the tides. And who are you?”
“Chad, I’m here with the Navy for training.”
“Drink up,” said a waitress walking by.
“As I spied your eyes this evening, I couldn’t help but think of my cat.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because I work so much, he’s deprived of love. I never get to pet him enough. I’m wondering if you could help me with that. Would you come home with me and play with my cat?”
In a flash we were on my floor, literally petting my cat, drinking wine, and having a chat. Full of corny questions, I tossed one out quick.
“If you could choose the ideal setting to make love, what would you pick?”
“Well,” he said, finishing his glass, “that’s the kind of question I like when asked.”
He straddled my legs, the couch supporting my chest, “Let’s see,” he pulled up my dark hair from over my ear, “with you, I think…it’d be a vineyard in Italy.”
He sucks my earlobe and tongues my neck, kissing my collarbone and continues talking while removing my clothes. “I’d lay you down between the vines, just like this…” he gently places his hand at the base of my neck, an arm carrying my knees, and he lays me down and mounts me, “I’d grasp your breast, licking your nipple and suck as I press into you deep with the grapes on the vines cheering for me, and I’d push myself in and out of your juice as passionately I kiss you…”
Orgasm came only moments later for me. After only ten minutes of this sexual escapade! More than size, length, or girth, with talking this man moved my earth with imagery that made me cum. He pleasured my cat and me that night. I guess you could say the power of a creative line can be amazing!