Galveston, Texas, 2003

Close Up

This one, I write as much for myself as for you. This time, this one time, I need to chronicle the events that unfolded – and changed my life.

Part one

I spotted her first. After registering for the medical conference at the front desk and taking my bags to my room, we shared an elevator down to the lobby. No, that’s not true, we didn’t share it. We didn’t know each other. The doors opened, she was there, I got in – down we went. I’m not sure she even noticed me. Just another middle-aged married guy with glasses and a receding hairline.

I surely noticed her, though. What exactly was it at first, I now wonder? She was no runway model, not tall enough and too full-figured. Actually, she looked rather prim and proper, with her dark hair pinned up, and her small stylish spectacles. There it was –the wedding band. She wore a flowered dress, I think and…that was it. Her dress, as I now recall, was a little tight. And her breasts – big round melon breasts – well, I couldn’t miss those. Not me. Take your runway models with the skinny legs and anorexic bodies. I’ll take the big tits. But it was more than that.

She had a look somehow, something in her dark brown eyes. Maybe just a hint of a smile…no, a smirk.

We said nothing to each other. I heard my own breathing. And as the elevator reached its destination and the doors opened, I smiled to myself, “Honey, you may be prim and proper, and I may look like mister average, but I would take those big tits in my hands and fuck you so hard…so long…you’d beg me to stop, then beg me not to.”

As I watched her walk off into the lobby, in a hotel of thousands, I never really expected to see her again. I was wrong. Very wrong.

Part two

Galveston is one hot place. Literally. It must have been 85 degrees that evening as I strolled alone in an outdoor mall, the sounds of Latin music – especially the strong percussion – ringing in my ears. How unusual it is to be the English-speaking minority in one’s own country. Yet, perhaps that’s part of the charm. Like traveling to a tropical paradise without needing a passport.

By the time I got back to the hotel, I was in dire need of a cold beer, and sat down at the bar, alone again. Arnold Schwarzenegger was on TV, providing Larry King with his views on how to improve California’s economy. Spend less than you take in, Arnold advised. A genius. The man is a fucking financial genius.

With my beer glass half empty, I was getting ready to pack it in, an early morning looming. Suddenly, a soft, low voice behind me asked if the empty seat next to me was taken. She was back! She was dressed differently, but it was the same girl from the elevator. Of all the people in the hotel…I couldn’t believe it.

I introduced myself. “I’m Greg, are you here for the convention?”

“Yes,” said Sabrina. “It’s my first one.”

“Me, too,” I responded. Sabrina took the stool next to mine.

We made small talk, while she ordered a mixed drink, and I slowed the rate at which I sipped my beer. Sabrina was nothing like the first impression I got from the elevator. Isn’t that nearly always the case? Not prissy at all. She smiled a lot and laughed easily. She was personable and charming, talking easily enough about herself but also asking about me; what I did, why I was there, etc. I truly enjoyed our conversation, but when the server asked if I wanted another beer, I declined.

“Are you sure?” Sabrina asked? A tingling started in my groin.

“Yes,” I replied, reluctantly, “I’ve got a 6:30 wake-up for a discussion group.”

As I walked away, I muttered something about wanting to take a walk with her, but I was truthfully too tired to hear her answer, and I wearily made it back to my room.

That night, thoughts of Sabrina drifted in and out of my sleep, making my cock do military pushups, up-down, up-down. There was just something so sexy, so voluptuous about her and, perhaps, something so available. It was just mind games, I rationalized. Nothing would happen. I’d never done anything out of character before. I did hope to see her again, though.

Part three

The next day was filled with typical convention activities: meetings, seminars, workshops. Some were interesting, others were what I call sleep fighters, where you have to struggle to keep awake. I met a lot of nice people from all over the country, a treat for me, because I rarely travel. As so typically happens with busy schedules, the day flew by, and before I knew it, I was dressing in a jacket and tie for an evening buffet with open bar – my favorite kind. Not that I’m a big drinker, but $5 beers annoy me as much as $3.50 soft drinks.

I’m not great at these things. I admit it. I’ve always found it easy to speak to people and have fun, but difficult to walk up to total strangers and begin a conversation – especially when they’re in a group, though I don’t mind it done to me. As it is with most of these conference buffets, the food sucked, giving the alcohol almanbahis an even greater opportunity to soften me up. A very professional woman I’d met earlier in the day wanted to sit and talk about the convention. After 30 minutes or so, I excused myself, beginning to fear that she would monopolize my evening. Frankly, I was expecting to have more fun than that and – hopefully – run into Sabrina.

I walked around nonchalantly, smiling at people I recognized and making a comment or joke in passing. That’s me – working the room. I walked around scanning the tables, and as a few people cleared away, there she was. I watched her for a moment. She was clearly a girl who was comfortable with people and liked to have fun. I could see it in her smile and hear it in her easy, natural laugh. The way she held her drink. For a moment, I considered walking away. I didn’t want to intrude, and the table was filled up. I hate those situations, don’t you? The night before was a nice moment between us but….

No. I wanted to talk to her, damn it. I took a deep breath and moved closer. My fears were unfounded. Sabrina was happy to see me, and before long there was room at the table for me. Feeling at ease, I ended up having a fun conversation having nothing to do with business – thank God.

Before long, for some reason, we began talking about adult videos. Another fellow and I wondered aloud if Sabrina and another young woman at the table had ever heard of Jenna Jameson, the porn legend and cottage industry. They had. My cock twitched. If she was familiar with adult video, then she was at least…open minded. Time to push the envelope. I casually inserted some comments about .com, an erotic website seen by thousands. They’d never heard of it – but they all seemed interested — Sabrina too. I talked about some of the wonderfully arousing erotic stories I’d read (and, unbeknownst to them, written) and they enjoyed hearing about it. But I kept the conversation at a PG-rated level. Sabrina, I noted with great interest and, frankly, joy, wrote down the name of the site.

Eventually, I got up to use the men’s room and when I returned, the table was filled up again. I sighed and walked away. The event ended at midnight anyway, and it was after 11:00, so I went to my room, thinking no one would miss me.

But I was unsettled somehow when I got there. Unfinished business perhaps. As midnight neared, I hopped the elevator back down for one more beer before the bar closed. Taking my first sip, I looked around the nearly empty room and saw…Sabrina, still sitting there with, of course, a couple of guys. With that smile and laugh, and naturally, those tits, she was like guy fly paper. Guy paper?

I walked up to her and, words aside, we both looked at each other with that ‘lets get out of here’ expression. I asked her if she wanted to take a walk, and this time we left together, beers in hand.

We took the elevator to the fifth floor – access to the outdoor pool, but the doors were closed. How disappointing; I was hoping to sit by the pool with her in the evening warmth while we drank our beers. Instead, we walked slowly through the empty hall, neither of us, apparently, wanted the night to end.

Inevitably, it seems, our conversation turned to our down-time activities and like me, she liked to ramble along the internet.

“What do you like to look at?” I asked.

“Porn,” she casually replied. My heart sort of skipped a beat, and a buzzing began in my crotch.

“Oh yeah?” I replied, “me too”. What sites do you like to look at?” She rattled-off a list of sites that I’d never even heard of, and I thought I’d heard them all. This girl was serious. Sexy and serious.

“What kinds of things do you like to look at?” I continued, wanting to see just how deviant she could be.

“Anal, double penetration, group sex,” she answered, a smile curling her lips as she recalled what she’d seen.

Now I may be naive, but any girl who likes porn: pictures and videos, likes sex. Stands to reason. It occurred to me that I just might have found the female version of myself.

As our beers dwindled, we found ourselves in her hallway and, ultimately, sitting in her room by the huge picture window which overlooked the incredibly beautiful Galveston waterways.

My heart was beating out of my chest. Here I was, in her room, talking about porn, my cock straining my pants, and yet unsure of what to do, what she wanted. Fuck it, I thought. She didn’t invite me in to play cards, and I didn’t break in.

“Sabrina,” I began, “you have one beautiful set of tits, if I may say. Have you ever been on the internet yourself?”

“There have been some photos taken,” she smiled, “but I don’t think they’ve ever made on to the internet. I hope not.”

“Do you prefer your pussy natural or shaved?” I managed to say, my voice cracking only slightly. I was still able to play it cool…sort of.

“Shaved,” was her one word reply.

It was time to almanbahis yeni giriş make a move, take a chance, and see where the evening would truly go.

“May I see it?” I whispered.

“Really?” she asked shyly.

“Yes, really,” I said in a soft, shaky voice.

She slid closer to me and lifted her dress. No panties.

“You’re not wearing any panties,” I swallowed, stating the obvious.

“I never do,” Sabrina said, her voice lower than before.

I reached out and touched her bald pussy, and Sabrina literally jumped. Not in surprise, not in fright or fear. In arousal. Sitting at the edge of the window, overlooking nighttime Galveston, I put my cheek against the inside of her thigh as I used my thumb to play with her clit. She was writhing and shaking, reached around for something to hold on to.

“Oh God,” Sabrina replied. “Mmmm…that feels so good….God that feels good…mmm.” She couldn’t keep still, her legs were opening and closing as I continued to play with her pussy. Talk about sensitive to the touch.

I lifted up her dress and got my first eyeful of those beautiful tits. They easily filled the promise of what they looked like under her dress. Big and round, with perfect small nipples, just the right size the suck and nibble on. I held them in my hands like two melons at the market that I was considering buying. Sold — both of them.

She pulled the dress over her head and took it off. We walked over to the bed, and Sabrina helped me take my pants off.

Now some girls like to suck cock. And some are pretty good at it. Sabrina didn’t like

it — she loved it. And she wasn’t just good at it. Looking up at me, she took my entire cock down her throat – I mean the whole thing, down to the root. God, it felt great. This girl was sent to me from the cock sucking hall of fame, to be sure. It was lovely to find someone who really loved their work.

“Baby,” I said in admiration, “you can really suck cock…you’re sucking my cock so good.”

As I held her head by the sides, Sabrina continued to suck my cock from the tip to the base, licking my balls and driving me into a frenzy. This was the best head I’d ever had. But I didn’t want it to end here.

“Do you want me to fuck you up the ass, baby?” I asked tentatively.

“Mmmm,” she replied between slurps. “That would be nice…”

“Get the lotion,” I suggested.

I applied the lotion to my cock while Sabrina lay down on the bed. I lifted her ass high in the air and, placing my cock head at the entrance to her asshole, slowly slid my cock inside of her.

“Ohhh Godddd…” she moaned in a husky voice, “that feels soooo good.”

She thought it felt good to her? I was in heaven. She lifted her legs up in the air. Great legs. Beautiful, shapely calves. Not the stick-thin calves that some women – even porn stars have. But strong, shapely, muscular calves. Delicious. And as I slowly slid my cock in and out of her ass, holding her by the hips, Sabrina treated me to the most incredible, hottest, most arousing sex talk I’d ever heard.

“God, yes,” she chanted. “Yes….yes….yes….God that feels so….good….yes….Oh God, yes…fuck me Greg….fuck my ass…fuck me…yes…I’m close…I’m gonna cum…gonna….oh yes…yes!”

I couldn’t go on much longer – this was way too hot for me. It was so fantastic to be fucking this sexy girl’s tight ass, her big tits bouncing as I pounded her.

“I…I’m gonna cum Sabrina” I croaked, “…gonna cum.”

“Cum in my ass…in my ass, lover,” she moaned.

It seemed like my orgasm shot from my toes, up my legs, through my groin and into my neck and face. I felt hot, tingly. My eyelids fluttered and my jaw trembled as I unloaded my creamy white cum inside of her ass. It felt just indescribably wonderful.

I will admit that I felt awfully strange in those next few moments, my head reeling from the realization of what I’d done. I probably should have stayed longer, but I did have an early meeting, so I dressed quickly, kissed her goodbye and left.

Back in my room, showered and in bed, I felt more conflicted than at any time in my life. My wife, my kids…my God — that was great sex! I wondered what she was thinking, alone in her room. Had I been good? Was she happy about what we’d done, or did she regret it? Did I still have the sexual prowess I’d always felt when I was younger, or was it just in my imagination now? In many ways I felt just terrible, while in other ways I felt elated, alive again. Would it be just a one-night stand, or would I do it again if I had the chance. Would she?

And there was still one night left…

Part four

I’m not going to resort to the old “when I woke up in the morning, it seemed like it was all a dream” device that some writers use. I knew when I woke up that it was no dream. Fortunately, I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, worry about it and analyze it to death. I had meetings and classes to attend, and that’s where my mind was. Sure, now and then almanbahis giriş my cock would get plump and fill my underpants, thinking about what we’d done. Guilt would creep in now and again, as would the thought of whether we’d do it again.

Wandering into town for a quick sandwich at lunch, I found myself buying a package of condoms. Again, I didn’t analyze it to death; it seemed almost a sensible precaution.

In the main reception hall near one of my classes, I saw Sabrina sitting at a table peacefully sipping tea, looking as coolly professional. I sat down and we chatted, saying not one word about the night before. Rather odd, I thought, but perhaps more comfortable than asking a lot of questions and raising all kinds of self-doubt. She did ask me if I was going to the evening’s awards dinner, and I said I would.

That evening, the dinner was in a large hall and very crowded. I took a hurried look around but was unable to see her, so I sat alone at a table, which quickly filled with other attendees. The dinner was as dry as I had expected, but the company was good and I had a pleasant time.

It was on the way out that I saw her, her hair down, and wearing a shimmering blue dress that highlighted her…well, her incredible rack. She looked lovely. She was walking with a group of people, some from the night before, and she stood out like the one ripe apple on the tree.

“That’s some dress,” I said truthfully.

“We’re going into town for a drink,” she smiled, “come with us.”

“I don’t know,” I hesitated, “I’ve got to wake up early and pack…”

“C’mon,” Sabrina said, taking my arm and pulling me along. “It’ll be fun.”

Never one to argue with a girl whose ass I’d plundered the night before, I walked along with the group, finding a table in an outdoor bar. The air was filled with the strong Latin beat of salsa music. We all drank and laughed – it was a nice change from the formality of the conference.

At one point, someone made a salty joke about…I think it was a donkey cock, and Sabrina put her lips to my ear and whispered, “Actually, you have the most perfect cock I’ve ever seen.” My fingers tingled and my cock twitched. You can never pay too much for an ego massage, and this one was free. We looked at each other and smiled secret smiles.

When one of the girls asked me what she’d said, I froze, but Sabrina quickly covered, saying she was referencing a joke from the night before. It was the first time during the evening, though, that she’d mentioned anything about our previous encounter. It sent a chill through me – a pang.

It was interesting, putting in mildly, to be in a group of people and unable to say what you’d like to another person. But that’s the situation we were in. What would she have said? I don’t know. I would have told her that the sex was phenomenal and that we could fuck the night away if she wanted to as much as I did. As it was, we said nothing about it.

By 11:30 or so, we were back at the hotel, three or four of us riding up on the elevator. My floor let out first, so I walked out with a casual goodbye to the others. Sabrina and I looked at each other, but said nothing more – couldn’t say anything more.

I got to my room, threw my jacket on the bed and splashed some cold water on my face, washing off some of the Galveston sweat. Moments later, the phone rang.

“What are you doing?” Sabrina asked.

“I know what I’d like to be doing,” I playfully replied.

“What?” she cooed.

“I’d like to pull that dress down over your beautiful tits, and hold them in my hands.”

“Mmmm,” she responded. “You would? Then what?”

“Then I’d take each nipple in my mouth, one by one, and lick them, then suck them. I’d hold them one by one and caress your soft flesh. I’d move my hands down your sides to your ass and around to your lower back. Then I’d pull you close and kiss your neck, licking around your ear.”

“Oh God,” she moaned, obviously enjoying the picture I was painting. “More.”

“I’d kiss my way down your neck and over your tits, brushing my lips over your stomach and down to your crotch. Then I’d lick your pussy lips as my fingers found your clit and rubbed it…”

“God, yes,” she swallowed. “Then…then what?”

“I’d lick your beautiful, shaved pussy lips, while your legs spread helplessly to let my tongue in. I’d lick all around your pussy, getting it soaking wet. Then I’d take your juices and wet your asshole with them, taking your clit between my teeth and sucking on it…”

“Oh my God,” she wailed, louder. “Don’t stop.”

“Then I’d tongue-fuck your pussy and your asshole, holding you up so you don’t fall, as you begin to feel the ripples of an orgasm coming on stronger and stronger, shaking you…making your tremble all over…”

“Mmmmm…yes…yes…” she groaned as my words, and her desire, brought her to a climax. “That’s so hot…mmmmm.”

I stopped talking, listening to her moans die down and her breathing return to normal. I was nearly breathless myself, my heart pounding, my throbbing cock straining hard against the pant fabric, begging to be set free. Listening closely, I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers — waiting and hoping for the words that would come next.

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