Be Careful What You Wish for Pt. 01

Geoff was about to have the night of his life; he just didn't know it yet. I knew all too well because I was the sole reason his world was about to be rocked. Chance and fate would play their part, but I felt highly optimistic as well as nervous. For this date, our fourth, I had done all the planning. The truth be told, there wasn't much scheming involved--I merely had to tell him where to meet me. Still, I was extremely trepidatious. My new beau ticked all the right boxes and then some, and I feared that this next step would doom the budding relationship.

In the past, I'd tried every trick and approach I could think of. No matter what I said, tried, or did, the result was always the same. As soon as I had sex with any potential suitor, male or female, disaster always followed. I hoped that Geoff would be different, but hope is all we have left when the reality of numerous experiences proves otherwise.

"This time, it will be different," I promised the bitch in the mirror.

I'd been staring at myself on and off for the entire day. Mentally chastising myself for being nervous, I stopped teasing my hair and pondered my closet. I had time before the date, but I was pulling out all the stops for this one. Geoff had been my every fantasy up to that point, and I was going to reward him. Besides, if I didn't have a hard cock to pound my dripping wet cunt into oblivion before the night ended, I'd explode. Therein lies my biggest problem.

On our first date, a fine dinner and a movie, I had to take several bathroom breaks. Not cursed with a tiny bladder, my frequent excursions weren't to relieve myself. Geoff's superpower was this intense aura of sexuality. He made me so horny that I needed relief--the relief of an orgasm. For that date, I'd dressed cute and casual in jeans and a nice blouse. I didn't want him to think that I was a rutting slut who wanted to constantly fuck his brains out. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on one's point of view, I was.

On that first date, he mesmerized me with his personality and seduced me with magnetism. During our second date, when I had dressed suggestively and grown comfortable around him, he'd earned my trust and admiration. That very fun date was miniature golf, and I nearly surrendered to my infinite lust and ravaged him before the course's fourth hole. Our third date was a wanton repeat of the previous two, including secret masturbation breaks. Geoff had that effect on me--he affected all women that way, it seemed.

I held out for as long as I could, but when he suggested a fourth date before seeing if I'd sleep with him--as many women practice that pesky three-date ritual--hope sprang in my breast and nectar flowed from my always-wet pussy. Thus far, Geoff has proven himself to be my romance novel fantasy man. I just hoped that he truly was. If not, at least I'd give him dirty, nasty, torrid sex that he'd remember for eternity.

"You know fucking him is going to destroy everything," my flame-haired reflection told me.

The bitch was right, but I didn't care. Returning to my primping, I set about making myself as physically desirable as possible. Being sexy is both a privilege and a curse. One of the biggest problems with being an attractive woman is that most people assume you're vapid. I had a brain and even a shining personality, albeit quirky and nerdy.

However, as soon as somebody glimpses my pert, high breasts, the hourglass curves of my body, or my heart-shaped, firm behind that once caused a traffic accident, they forget that there's a living, breathing person inside that body and treat me like a fuck-toy. That night, I was doing everything I could to entice Geoff into treating me that way. All I had to do was simply be myself. My true nature--a sexual force of nature--always got me sex.

I teased my hair out, then tried it in a ponytail. Not liking that look, I attempted pigtails, and then wearing my hair up. Ultimately, I settled on gentle waves, my natural red hair looking like a fiery waterfall. As long as my hair is, it hangs down to my waist, even after sculpting it into cascading flames. Finding it sexy but not enticing enough, I wove a few tendrils into a slim braid that hung just off my right temple. That simple alteration added a "wild in bed" allure, not that I needed a boost in that department.

Dark, smoky makeup highlighted my facial features. My high, pronounced cheekbones were the perfect canvas for some midnight blush, and my moss-green eyes popped under the frame of wispy, dark eye shadow. Dark, almost Goth lipstick turned my slightly plump lips into a centerpiece, drawing one's eyes and evoking visions of my mouth doing whorish, slutty things. Using just barely enough foundation to subdue my freckles turned my sexy face into one of sexual allure with promises of sensual delights that few mortals would ever taste.

With my hair teased out just so and my makeup perfect, my wardrobe had to match that sensuality. I spent hours trying various ensembles, finally settling on one that radiated "fuck me" vibes. I called it truth in advertising. I covered my slender frame with a frilly dark charcoal top, one that made wearing a bra impossible, and a gauzy skirt that was perfectly cut to draw one's sexual attention to my shapely ass and hips.

The blouse was spun from fine muslin, the scrunchy fabric molding itself to my high, plump breasts. The shirt was an off-the-shoulder cut, with some stretchy ruffles drawing the eye. Down the center of the front, the feminine blouse tied with dark laces zigzagging from the swooping, cleavage-revealing neck to the bottom. The lacing was designed to never fully close, revealing my flesh beneath the micro-thin fabric.

A designer cut, the top wasn't just skin-baring; it had been designed to enhance the wearer's breasts. The fabric's waves expertly hid the fact that the blouse was cut to lovingly cup my breasts and accentuate their contours. The overall effect was that my tits were enhanced. The bottom hem was perfectly positioned as well. The sides of my designer blouse gently swooped outward from the gap in the middle, widening more than an extra inch before the top ended just above my waistline.

I'm not huge in the breast department, but I'm not small either. On paper, my boobs sounded boring--a simple 36C. However, my slight, athletic frame made them seem much larger, especially with the curvy taper from my torso to my waist. My tits spill over the sides of my body and hang very high with nice separation. My upward-pointing nipples are constantly hard, and the muslin fabric, while opaque, showed the contours of not only my nipples but also the puffy areolas around them. In excellent physical condition, my braless boobs had just enough bounce to hypnotize, but not enough to be vulgar.

Rather than wear pants, I settled for something that provided much easier access. An asymmetrical skirt, inspired by gypsies and medieval wenches, adorned my lower half. The layered fabric was in a muted forest green, matching both my eyes and hair. On the left side, the hemline descended to my ankle, but it swept upward and ended just below the top of my thigh on the right. The simple, gauzy fabric was embellished with some wispy trim, more ruffles, along the edges and bottom.

I loved the skirt and the way it accented the round plumpness of my ass, but it was too long for my intentions. A simple belt in thin brown leather was the perfect solution. Canting the belt loosely over my hips at a slight angle and rolling the elastic waistband of the skirt over multiple times raised the bottom hem to my calf. This had the added effect of raising the already-scandalous slit a few inches over the top of my thigh. That made wearing panties an impossibility--not that I ever wear them, anyway.

"Geoff's getting fucked hard, tonight," I told the bitch in the mirror.

Looking at myself in my full-length mirror, I was pleased with my appearance. I radiated sex, plain and simple. I looked like a cross between a model and a porn star. I hadn't crossed the line into trashy slutdom, but I was definitely hovering near the border. Slut-adjacent was how I looked, and it was perfect.

By the time my ride arrived, my cellphone pinging to tell me the driver was outside, I had worked myself up into such a sexual frenzy that two of my fingers had found their way through the body-revealing slit in my skirt and were feverishly plunging themselves into my sopping hole. Luckily, the driver didn't mind one bit that I finished myself off during the ride to the bar. He enjoyed the show, and I got off on being watched. That was a win-win.

Other than my legs, which are a bit too scrawny for my taste, I have the look of a sexually wild vixen. I usually can't make it from my car and across a store's parking lot without every would-be Lothario in a two-mile radius accosting me. That time, I welcomed the attention. I timed my arrival to be intentionally late, texting Geoff that I was running behind and would be there within half an hour. I not only wanted to gauge his reaction when I walked in, but I wanted to savor the lusty stares and ogling.

Geoff and the public didn't disappoint. He was already seated, chatting with the adoring waitress. Even from across the restaurant, I could tell that my hopeful boyfriend's stunning good looks and seductive charisma were working their magic on her. She was giddy with laughter, reaching out to touch him as he said some unheard comment she found amusing. I glowered, then corrected my expression, adopting a mien of seductive horniness.

Every set of male eyes and most of the females' couldn't help but stare at me as I sauntered toward our booth. I could feel the laser-like heat of lusty gazes on my ass. The skirt was so thin that the very slight jiggle from each step resounded through the gauze fabric. The skirt's cloth was also thin enough that the contours of my figure were barely shadowed when light shone from behind. It just so happened that a row of lights ran across the front entrance, highlighting the curve of my hips and my legs' tapering lines. A waiter openly stared at my freely bouncing tits. I caught his eye and gave him a wink and smile as he blushed.

"Hi, Geoff," I smiled, seating myself.

I made certain to swivel my leg out from the slit as I maneuvered into the bench seat. That showed off my lacy sandal, all of my leg, and enough of my hip that my victim's eyes focused on my hip bone with orgasmic intensity. My hard nipples tingled at that.

The man-stealing waitress may have been hot, but my sexuality eclipsed her. I shot her a demure smile, not at all flustered. I simply smiled at her, then shot Geoff a look that projected all my lust at him. His eyes met mine, and he smiled. He was doing that thing again, that thing where he makes me need to cum without even touching me.

I quickly grabbed the drink menu, making sure to jiggle my boobs ever so slightly. Geoff looked hypnotic in a simple black linen shirt and jeans that were tight in all the right places. His muscular body and long, dreamy medium blond hair gave him a rebel-warrior vibe. He was exactly my type, any woman's type.

"See," he said to the waitress. "My goddess has arrived."

"Hmph," the cute and buxom woman emoted. "Ready for drinks then?" I ignored her eyes scanning his body and settling on the wonderful, promising bulge at his crotch.

"So many choices," I purred to her, my voice sounding as if I were cumming. "Can you give us a few minutes?"

"Sure thing. I'll be back in a jiffy."

I waited until she'd retreated, my nerves overpowering my composure. Mentally promising myself that I wouldn't launch myself into scaring him away with the truth, I considered a million things to say.

"Do you consent to sex with me, tonight?" I blurted out, mentally cursing myself.

He gave me that crooked smile of his, his well-defined cheekbones scrunching up to his mirth-filed hazel eyes. Geoff could either tell from my tone that I was about to talk my head off, which I do when I'm nervous, or he was so taken aback that he couldn't find any words. Having experienced his delightful, sharp and quick wit and mesmerizing conversation, I doubted it was the latter. He was perfect for me; I hoped he'd be the one.

Before he had the chance to formulate any response, I verbally pushed forward.

"I'll be honest with you, starting now."

A single eyebrow raised on his humpable face, Geoff's expression showing volumes of understanding. I didn't need to tell him that I'd been holding back. I got the very real impression that he already knew. Despite us only kissing and a few glorious fondles thrown into the mix, I'd been a good girl. My behavior wasn't truly by choice; I wanted to decide if he could handle me. Hundreds of broken relationships had been left in my wake. The jury was still out, but I felt that he could.

I forged ahead. "This is how I usually dress. Too slutty for you?" I didn't give him a second to respond. "I dress for attention because I'm an attention whore, and I love it. Well, actually, I'm just a fucking whore. I'm the sluttiest slut you'll ever meet. That's why I didn't sleep with you yet. That's been a struggle, because you check all my boxes, and I'm really into you. You make me so wet I haven't stopped masturbating since our first date."

I paused, waiting for my soon-to-be lover's acknowledgment. He merely nodded, somehow conveying volumes of understanding, and sipped his water. Having his full attention, as always, I soldiered on.

"The problem is that I'm really, really into you and would like to pursue a relationship. Be warned, though. Sexually, I'm way too much for any guy... any woman, too, and there's been a lot of both."

His hand was on the table, and I took it into mine. Shivers went down my spine as I felt the manliness of his flesh, that hardness that made me fantasize about how hard other pieces of him could be. When we'd kissed, my caresses over his body felt as if I were running my hands over chiseled marble. My pussy gushed at the thought of his body.

"You know how everybody wants a constantly horny, uninhibited, sexual wildcat for their lover?" I continued. "I'm all of that times infinity. I'm always horny and crazier than the most filthy, dirty, perverted porn you jerk off to. Trust me on that one. I probably fucked myself into oblivion watching kinkier shit than you do. The truth is, nobody can handle my sexual urges. Everybody gets jealous and insecure, and they try to 'fix' me or tame me."

His crooked smile turned into an impish smirk, a silent giggle escaping his mouth.

"No, really!" I insisted. "They run away screaming, try to dominate me, not in the bedroom, which I dig, or shame me. I'll have none of that. So, if you agree to sleep with me," I paused, catching my breath. "But I promise you there won't be any sleep, I'll be the nastiest, dirtiest fuck you'll ever have, but it will doom our relationship." I paused. "Assuming we're having a relationship."

"What kind of drink would you like? Did you make your choice yet?" he responded, infuriating me and making me even hornier. There's something about a man who knows how to escalate without descending into Neanderthal mode.

"I'm serious!" I lamented. "I'm a nasty, dirty, kinky slut that needs sex all the fucking time. I know you think, right now, that I'm just trying to seduce you, but it's true. I'm brazen, into all sorts of kinks and fetishes, and can never get enough. That's just when I'm sober. If I have some wine, or worse, hard liquor, especially tequila, I'm a nasty nympho who wants to do all sorts of risky, perverted things."

Geoff took a long quaff of his water, eyeing me up and down with open, brazen approval. Part of his superpower was that it wasn't creepy, it was thrilling and arousing. My body responded by turning up the heat so much that my pale cheeks flushed.

"And if I have some weed, I go completely insane. Booze and herb together turn me into a sexual force of nature. Geoff, I'm deadly serious, here. I'm everything you ever sexually fantasized about, and that's going to be a huge problem. Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it. I'm so fucking horny right now that I'll suck your cock and fuck you, right here, right now, in front of everybody. If I'm into somebody, and they treat me how I need, it's a million times worse. You're guilty on all fronts. I have almost zero limits, and I'm the type that always wants it dirtier, kinkier, and hotter. Yes or no, your choice."

The waitress chose that moment to interrupt my confessional rambling by showing up.

"Decided what to drink yet?"

I held up one finger. "Just a moment." I looked at my smiling date, feeling his sexual magic force me to surrender. "Are we fucking or not?"

He only smiled.

"Aren't you going to say anything after all that? I spilled my guts out to you, and you just sat there all understanding and smiling that pussy-drenching roguish crooked smile of yours."

Geoff chuckled, his eyes on passionate fire. "First, I was going to say that I love how you're dressed, and I marveled at how you chose every garment, even your perfect makeup, to enhance your inner perfection with your outer flesh. Then, I was going to compliment you on your bravery in telling the truth up front, as it takes courage to lay everything on the line. Finally, I was going to mention how much I admire your ability to hold hope in your passionate heart in the face of so much past disaster. As always, I'm stunned by your perfection, poise, and stunning intellect."

The waitress was staring at him, her mouth agape and an open look of lust on her features. She looked at me, then back at him. She could wish she was in my place all she wanted; he was going to be mine.

"Are we fucking or not?"

"Most definitely," he assured, his finger caressing my intertwined hand with a feather-like touch that nearly caused a spontaneous orgasm.

I turned to our jealous waitress. "I'll have one of those giant tequila sunrises and a glass of water, followed by another drink. Make them double-heavy on the booze, please. Also, do you think anyone would mind if I discretely popped a few edibles? I fully intend on getting crazy."

"So jealous," she smiled. I watched as she positioned herself between me and the rest of the bar, concealing me from view. "Go ahead. Can I have one too?"

"Sure thing, sweetie," I said. I opened my purse. "These are for euphoria, but allow you to function fine. This bag has some 'melt into the couch' ones for some blissful fun, and these," I opened the bag and grabbed a tiny handful. "Are for making you so horny and insatiable that you'll spend all night cumming your brains out."

"Ooh, those!"

"Help yourself."

The three of us shared a conspiratorial smile as she grabbed several of my sex gummies.

"And you, handsome. What are you drinking?"

Geoff paused, smiling. "I assume I'm driving." He looked at me, and I nodded. "Very well. The lady has every right to change her mind, of course, so I need to have my wits about me, just in case. In either event, I'll be ensuring that she gets home safely, so I'll have hot tea if you have any. Failing that, iced tea or soda will do."

"We have the best variety of hot teas in the city, sexy," she suggestively drawled. "How do you like it?"

Geoff's eyes scanned the cute waitress. "Like you, hot, sweet, and bold."

"What flavor?"

"Fifty Shades of Earl Grey, if you have it."

"You got it."

She strolled away, her hips swaying, covertly popping one of the edibles into her mouth. I turned to Geoff and admired his physique. Some men are good-looking, and others are handsome. He's the type who, at first glance, makes you realize that you'd let him do anything he wants to you. In fact, he's so hot that you instantly know that you'll be the one suggesting things for him to do. I had a lengthy list.

"Well, you're not running away, yet, that's a good sign. Most guys try to assure me that they can handle me. Little do they know."

I waited, wondering if he'd take the bait. It was my final test. I'd given him plenty over our prior dates. The "I'm not like most men" line was forthcoming.

"Lovers are like motorcycles," Geoff began. "We all want the ones that will kill us."

"That's it?" My voice showed my shocked dismay. Perhaps, he was the one for me.

"Don't fear the Reaper. So, planner of dates and my perfect goddess, what sort of date has your kinky, perverted mind conjured for us?"

I couldn't help myself. I laughed, a sincere, heartfelt chortle that made my tits bounce.

"You take me back to my place and spend the entire night fucking my brains out."

"Excellent," he responded. "Our drinks are here."

"Here you go, lucky love birds," she said, smiling at Geoff and staring jealous daggers into me.

"Thank you," I said, taking a sip of my drink. It was tasty and very strong.

The brunette made puppy dog eyes at my date and said, "If you need anything, anything at all, just call me."

I remained silent, plotting her downfall. I hadn't even gotten him to fuck my face with his hopefully-large cock, and I was already laying claim. The hovering waitress stood there, invading Geoff's personal space, until he took a sip of tea and nodded to her with approval.

"So, what do you want to talk about, Geoff?"

"Lady's choice, Amber," he said. The inflection in his voice made my clit tingle.

"Don't you want to know why sleeping with me will spell doom?"

"Of course," he smiled. "But I never push issues."

"Oh, that's why you haven't tried to fuck me, yet."

His swoon-worthy behavior suddenly made sense. I'd lose myself at the moment, his charisma, sexual magnetism, and wit arousing me more than I had ever felt possible. I made the first move, then the second, then the third. However, as soon as I mentally stopped myself, he'd back off, as if psychic. The god-level flirting and pressure never relented, they just didn't advance any further until I did.

"But I never once said, 'No,'"

He chuckled in understanding and genuine amusement. "True, saying no means exactly that, but only, 'Yes,' means yes."

"What do you want to know?"

He smiled, his eyes only seeing me. I felt his seductive powers invading my body. My soul cried out for him to plunge into my essence harder and never relent.

"Tell me everything," he answered. "Your sexual desires seem to be a huge part of you."

"Promise me you won't run away, screaming once I tell you. I really need a hard cock tonight."

His chuckle was so sexy that my drooling cunt flowed into my skirt. "I pledge my hard cock to you, the body it's attached to, and the blood that pumps through my veins."

"If you don't stop talking like that, I'm going to go insane with lust," I warned.

"That's how I am, and you know it. I refuse to change, just as I'd never want you to change yourself for me or anyone else."

"Well," I began. "Everything I just told you is true." I stopped and downed a big portion of my oversized drink. The rim of the glass was as big around as both of my hands together. "I love sex more than anything else in the world, and I get uncontrollably horny in an instant. If I see something sexy, I need to cum. If I'm thinking about sex, I want to get fucked hard like a dirty slut, or, at least, finger myself. I have all sorts of kinks, especially public sex and exhibitionism." I paused, taking another sip. "I get off on being watched. My Uber driver loved it on the way over here."

"You dirty girl."

"Oh, shit, dirty talk. When I'm horny for somebody, that drives me insane. But, don't do that Daddy stuff. I'm not into that."

"Love it thus far. What else aren't you into?"

"Limits, yes."

I stopped and downed my massive drink, already feeling the buzz. The waitress waved at me, and I nodded.

I went on, babbling like before. "I'm weird about things, so you can either treat me how I want, or we're done."

"Sounds more than acceptable," he agreed.

"You can't make me do anything; it's all up to me. Got it?"

Geoff nodded. He was so damned sexy that my hand dropped beneath the table and slid through the high slit in my skirt. My pussy was scorching hot and dripping. I played in my wetness for a moment, pulling my hand up, showing it to my date.

"Look how wet I am."

A seductive smile and wink were his responses. Pushing the gauntlet further, I plunged my fingers into my mouth, licking my juices off my digits.

He didn't respond negatively to my tawdry actions, so I pushed further. "Does it make you nervous that I'm fingering myself in public? What if somebody sees?"

"Let them see," he said, his tone low enough for only me to hear. His words ripped through me like my Hitachi wand set to high.

"Does it turn you off?"

"It makes me want to tear your clothes off you and take you hard and deep, right here on this table."

YES! My mind erupted. "Do you like the fact I'm not wearing a bra? I wanted to make you want me."

"I've wanted you from the moment I first saw you."

My body had all the seduction it could take. My thighs erupted with volcanic heat, and I squirmed in my seat, slightly spreading my legs for easier access.

"But do you like my tits?"

"I love your physical perfection as much as your inner beauty."

"Oh, my limits," I remembered. I was so worked up that I couldn't help but slowly masturbate as I spoke.

"Here's your second drink," the waitress said, interrupting us.

I shot her a polite smile, my mind wishing she'd fade away. "Thank you."

"Another tea, handsome?"

I didn't say a word, but Geoff knew my thoughts, somehow. "We'll be leaving shortly, so this one is fine."

As soon as she left, I launched into another diatribe. "What I want, when I want it. No exceptions. Don't worry, I have no shame about asking, even begging. I need total honesty, okay? If you fuck somebody else, tell me about it--preferably while you fuck me. Better yet, let me watch or join in. As far as acts I won't do, no pain, no scat, no minors. Bondage, spanking, and light pain are cool, just nothing real or major."

"Got it. That leaves a lot of open territory."

"Like I said, insatiable slut with almost zero limits. Oh, that reminds me, I'm not into drinking piss, but every now and then, I like to get peed on or give a golden shower."

"Anything else?"

"Nope, just that I give in to my sexual impulses whenever I can, and that's almost always. I'm the type of girl who will finger herself in the shower when she wakes up, fuck you before you go to work, then blow your friends in front of you. It's hotter when you watch. I fuck and suck anybody I want to, whenever I want, and I expect you to be the same. Just never keep it from me."

Geoff laughed, his expression turning pensive for a brief second. "I see why you've had relationship troubles. But you asked about our relationship..."

I cut him off. "Yes! I dig you, you make me feel like the most appreciated and desired woman on the planet, and I'm really into everything about you. Please try not to bail on me, that is, if you want me."

"Of course, I do. I find you mesmerizing, perfect, and being in your presence is glorious."

"Do you really like the way I'm dressed?"

"I never lied to you, and I don't intend on starting now. Yes. It's the perfect combination of stylish and sexy."

"What do you think the sexiest thing a woman can wear is?"

"No panties."

All the sex talk, plus his open acceptance, had me in a stupor. I plunged my fingers inside my quivering hole, hearing the sloshing of my wetness above the bar's din. My thumb reached up and flicked my swollen clit.

"I, aah, um, mmm, I'm not wearing any," I confessed.

My orgasm ripped through me, scorching my flesh with dancing wildfire. Because I was in public, I bit down on my lower lip rather than shriek out a cursing announcement that I was cumming. I tried to look normal, but my entire body quaked, my breasts heaving as my spine contorted and unclenched multiple times. My breathing came in ragged, orgasmic heaves. The entire time, Geoff smirked at me, his soulful expression giving me not only his approval but also heightening the intensity of my slutty, public self-love.

"Let's get the fuck out of here right now," I suggested. "I swear, if I don't have your cock down my throat in one minute, I'm going to scream." I stopped and giggled. "I'll be doing a lot of screaming, tonight. I hope you like it that way."

My sexy date slammed some cash on the table and gently took my hand, leading me toward the exit. All eyes were on me as we walked out. I hadn't lied about loving the attention. My sexual nectar was dripping down my thighs before I made it out the door.