Betty - Part 2
I ordered us drinks and we found an empty booth. I sat down and she slid in opposite me.
We talked and flirted and drank our drinks, and by the time we’d finished I was so ready to fuck her my cock practically ached.
I got us more drinks and sat back down.
"How much do I owe you?" She asked.
"Don’t worry about it,” I said, but after a beat, added: “You can always pay me back later.”
Betty giggled and took a sip of champagne. The look on her face told me everything I needed to know.
The conversation was smooth and flirtatious; her body language making it abundantly clear she was into me, and slowly we got a little drunk.
“You want another?" I asked after a while.
“You’re gonna get me drunk,” she mock-scolded, but her eyes told me she wanted me.
I laughed and stood up to go back to the bar, but a hand clamped companionably down on my shoulder.
“Deke!” A loud voice exclaimed above the thumping music!
I smiled at the tall black guy grinning down at me and he leant over and d****d his arm around me.
“Deon, this is Betty,” I said, introducing them. “Betty... Deon. Deon is my boy. I should warn you that we do everything together.”
“Hey,” Deon greeted warmly, turning on the charm. “Not quite everything Betty, don’t you worry,” and the two of them laughed.
“It’s nice to meet you, Betty; I hope you’re taking good care of him. Can I get you two a drink?”
Betty nodded enthusiastically and Deon left us. As he headed to the bar he tossed me a wink and did a piss-poor job of hiding his grin.
I sat back down, this time beside Betty and a little while later Deon returned with drinks. We talked for a bit and got to know her better; she was 28, neatly 29 and lived with with her best friend and their cat. She had a sister and two brothers, and had a degree in history, but she’d never done anything with it and had a job working for a law firm.
Deon told her a little about me and shared a few details about himself, but he didn’t stick around and less than ten minutes later he excused himself again, leaving Betty and I alone in our dark little corner of Excess.
I looked at her closely in the muted darkness: She wasn’t completely trashed, but she was well on her way and as I looked at her she leant over and kissed me on the cheek.
“What did I do to deserve that?”
She shrugged and giggled, so I put my arm around her and drew her close. As I pulled her to me her sequinned top shifted for just a moment and I could see she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath.
She looked up at me coyly, as if reading my thoughts, her face half hidden by the shadow of her fringe.
“So what exactly was it that I felt in your pants out on the dance floor?” she asked. “It felt...”
“Large?” I finished for her with a laugh, and taking her hand, added: “Something like this?”
She didn’t try to stop me and didn’t hold back, just sucked in her breath involuntarily as she felt the coiled shaft of my cock resting against my thigh.
She cast a furtive look around to ensure no one was looking and slowly ran her delicate hand along its length. When she got to the tip so paused and squeezed gently and then traced her fingers back up to my crotch where she cradled my balls.
She was so close to me now that I could feel her heartbeat.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “It’s so thick. It’s absolutely huge!”
She looked around again, double-checking we were alone.
“Can I - I mean, I really want to...”
“Go ahead, girl,” I nodded, and she practically groaned with delight.
She shifted slightly, affording us a modicum of privacy and caressed my shaft through the fabric of my pants, oohing in wonder as my cock responded and began to stiffen in her grasp.
I could feel her heartbeat start to race.
She slid her hand across and unzipped my fly.
We talked and flirted and drank our drinks, and by the time we’d finished I was so ready to fuck her my cock practically ached.
I got us more drinks and sat back down.
"How much do I owe you?" She asked.
"Don’t worry about it,” I said, but after a beat, added: “You can always pay me back later.”
Betty giggled and took a sip of champagne. The look on her face told me everything I needed to know.
The conversation was smooth and flirtatious; her body language making it abundantly clear she was into me, and slowly we got a little drunk.
“You want another?" I asked after a while.
“You’re gonna get me drunk,” she mock-scolded, but her eyes told me she wanted me.
I laughed and stood up to go back to the bar, but a hand clamped companionably down on my shoulder.
“Deke!” A loud voice exclaimed above the thumping music!
I smiled at the tall black guy grinning down at me and he leant over and d****d his arm around me.
“Deon, this is Betty,” I said, introducing them. “Betty... Deon. Deon is my boy. I should warn you that we do everything together.”
“Hey,” Deon greeted warmly, turning on the charm. “Not quite everything Betty, don’t you worry,” and the two of them laughed.
“It’s nice to meet you, Betty; I hope you’re taking good care of him. Can I get you two a drink?”
Betty nodded enthusiastically and Deon left us. As he headed to the bar he tossed me a wink and did a piss-poor job of hiding his grin.
I sat back down, this time beside Betty and a little while later Deon returned with drinks. We talked for a bit and got to know her better; she was 28, neatly 29 and lived with with her best friend and their cat. She had a sister and two brothers, and had a degree in history, but she’d never done anything with it and had a job working for a law firm.
Deon told her a little about me and shared a few details about himself, but he didn’t stick around and less than ten minutes later he excused himself again, leaving Betty and I alone in our dark little corner of Excess.
I looked at her closely in the muted darkness: She wasn’t completely trashed, but she was well on her way and as I looked at her she leant over and kissed me on the cheek.
“What did I do to deserve that?”
She shrugged and giggled, so I put my arm around her and drew her close. As I pulled her to me her sequinned top shifted for just a moment and I could see she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath.
She looked up at me coyly, as if reading my thoughts, her face half hidden by the shadow of her fringe.
“So what exactly was it that I felt in your pants out on the dance floor?” she asked. “It felt...”
“Large?” I finished for her with a laugh, and taking her hand, added: “Something like this?”
She didn’t try to stop me and didn’t hold back, just sucked in her breath involuntarily as she felt the coiled shaft of my cock resting against my thigh.
She cast a furtive look around to ensure no one was looking and slowly ran her delicate hand along its length. When she got to the tip so paused and squeezed gently and then traced her fingers back up to my crotch where she cradled my balls.
She was so close to me now that I could feel her heartbeat.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “It’s so thick. It’s absolutely huge!”
She looked around again, double-checking we were alone.
“Can I - I mean, I really want to...”
“Go ahead, girl,” I nodded, and she practically groaned with delight.
She shifted slightly, affording us a modicum of privacy and caressed my shaft through the fabric of my pants, oohing in wonder as my cock responded and began to stiffen in her grasp.
I could feel her heartbeat start to race.
She slid her hand across and unzipped my fly.
5 years ago