April Eight: Fiancés

My coworker is marrying a busty Italian girl who is charming and silly. She asked me to fireman’s carry her and I declined because I was tired and I thought my coworker would think it was weird. She’s very flirty but there’s no risk of me fucking her or anything. I’m not a scumbag. She wasn’t satisfied since I didn’t pick her up so she jumped on my back and insisted on a piggy-back ride. I couldn’t resist so I ran around saying “Oinky, oinky, oinky!” while she said “Go piggy, go!” and I ran into objects and pretended I was going to throw her off my back. She laughed with girly delight. My coworker looked irritated so I made her get off and went back to work. I got their wedding invitation in the mail when I came home.

My friend’s sister shot me a text message asking if we were still on for tonight. I had forgot we made plans. She has a fiancé too. She told me she secretly hopes he has an affair. She is bored with him. All he does is go to work, then come home and eat raw meat or something. I guess he doesn’t fuck her good either. He could probably kick my ass though.

I went home and took a nap. I didn’t have any sort of plan where to take this girl or what to do with her so I grabbed my guitar (she had hers in her car) and we went to Capitol park and played together. This consisted of us trying to find a song we both knew in between her complimenting me on how smart, good looking, and talented I am and some drunk Indian people making me play a song for them – which I did. After all, who am I to let down a drunk foreigner? Once we had come up with two songs we could sort of play together, we went to the open mic across the street and signed up. The bartender there likes me. She makes me these very strong gin and tonics and charges me $2.75 for them – when she charges me at all. She’s a total sweetheart but I don’t find her to be particularly interesting. She also likes dumb music but she says she’s a fan of the music I play, so that’s good. Stroke my ego and you can probably stroke my cock. I got my friend’s sister a whiskey lemonade and she paid for it with her fiancé’s credit card. I was okay with this. We played on stage early and sang into the same microphone, which is weirdly intimate. When we sat back down our drinks were full again. I tried to flirt with my friend’s sister and the bartender simultaneously but ended up neglecting the bartender. I have a bit of history with my friend’s sister. Nobody knows it and we’ve never discussed it, but I kissed her in my garage one night a couple of years ago. I also finger banged her in a hotel in Reno next to her best friend who was sucking my dick. Then I made out with her other best friend which she castigated me for. If only she knew that friend also stimulated my cock, she would have been pissed. Nobody knows any of this. We pretend it didn’t happen but the sexual tension between is out of control. I was now drunk and staring into her lovely eyes and admiring her perfect mulatto skin and peeking up her skirt which she wore just for me. It was time to go home. We drove back to my house and I took a piss on the lawn. I went back in her car and made her give me a massage. She can fucking rub my back like no one else. She said “Fiancé doesn’t allow me to give massages to other men.” I said nothing. She gets just deep enough. She genuinely likes delta blues. Her favorite novel is Lolita. I want to fuck her raw and cum in her hairy little pussy. So I rubbed the back or her neck and pulled her in and we made out somewhat uninhibited. She kisses perfectly; no training required. I slid my hand up her skirt. We kissed some more but she had to go home because her fiancé told her to be back at midnight and no later. It was 11:50 and she lives a half hour away. We kissed some more then she sped off and I went inside and masturbated and fell asleep.


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