Hot Lady luck

“Uh, Chloe.”

Her lips slid off my finger with a final flick of a tongue that had my cock reaching for the sky: “Yes, Rand.”

“Could I kind of loosen something there for you?”

“Rand, darling, I’m here to be whatever you want me to be and do whatever you want me to do. All you have to do is to say the words.”

Disbelievingly, unbelievingly, as stunned as a billion to one lottery winner, I tugged at a bow at the top of her teddy and watched the scarlet material open up like the red sea to let the true believers have free passage. Like the Israelites, I was also beginning to feel like my guardian angel had finally gotten back on my case after one hell of a long vacation.

“Do you like what you see, Rand?”

Somehow, somebody had pushed a pool ball down my throat. “It looks like the promised land,” I croaked as we both looked at an exposed breast as though it was a work of art. Well, it sure was as far as I was concerned. A side order of heaven with a tight little cherry on the top.

“My turn now.”

“Uh!”

Conversation wise, I was doing about as well as a mentally retarded parrot. But there’s something about having a beautiful girl pulling down your pants which slows down certain parts of your nervous system and sends sparks through the rest of a guy’s neurons. Especially when you’ve known the girl seeking carnal knowledge of you about as long as it takes to boil an egg.

It suddenly occurred to me that maybe I’d had an heart attack or something already and died on the couch. Maybe this was the after life and it only looked like my apartment and Chloe was an angel sent as a kind of meeter and greeter. It didn’t seem like a bad theory but if I was right, and this was how they behaved in heaven, there were going to be some real surprised church leaders by and by, including the Pope and Billy Graham.

Naw, the one thing every religion on earth I’d ever agreed on was that God had no use for any kind of fun: if this was really the afterlife I was down below in the coal cellar and loving every minute of it so far.

The next minute didn’t disappoint either because Chloe knelt down in front of me, slid her hands between my legs and took each of my balls in her palms as gently if she was stealing eggs from underneath a sleeping chicken. My throat seemed almost as stiff as my cock as I tweaked the tips of her taut little boobs as though they were channel selectors and I was looking for the best show around.

It seemed like I’d already got it anyway because having foreplay with Chloe felt like I was caddying for Tiger Woods. I’d do the heavy work but when it came to the finer strokes of sexual technique I’d just have to stand by and watch an expert at work. Where in the name of Middle Earth had she come from and was there any chance at all of getting her to stay around?

“Rand, why don’t you help me take my top off?”

“Sure, sure.”

Again, it seemed like such a great idea I wondered why I hadn’t done it without being told to. But how come she knew my name when I knew her about as well as I knew Cleopatra? And how come she was stroking my chest with her fingertips like I was Tom Cruise and she was the president of his fan club? Was she at the wrong apartment, had she gotten me confused with somebody who was somebody? And why the hell was I worrying about things like that right now?

Well, the reason I was worrying about it was because when you’re making love to a normal kind of girl you don’t have to worry about her suddenly disappearing into a puff of smoke or turning into something with scales from the seventh circle of the pit, or taking off over the rooftops like Mary Poppins.

But even with a girl who may do any of those things what you can do while you’re waiting is to pull her down into your lap and nibble at her nipples. It’s the second best way of persuading her to stick around. And maybe this time I could get ahead of the game by suggesting the first best way of getting her in the mood for a real party.

“Chloe, how about I give you some tongue work?”

“Maybe you should sit me down on the couch, open my legs and see if I smile at you — maybe that’ll be a good clue.”

So I did, and she did, and it was.

I went at her pussy like an ant eater going after double rations but to tell the truth, there was more effort than inspiration about it. I guess as good as the average guy at giving head but I couldn’t claim I was giving my best performance right then. As crazy as it sounds, I was trying to remember if I’d brought home any old bottles or lamps recently. It’s strange how long some of those old TV shows can stick with you. 

The only difference was that, unlike Major goodie shoes Nelson, if I’d gotten a good looking female genie I’d screw her so hard and so often that she’d end up needing a corkscrew to get in and out of her bottle.

Chloe had been laughing when I first began but as I zeroed in on her clit and bounced it around like a balloon in a gale, she’d started gasping, then gently moaning.

I sneaked a look up at her face and nearly stopped what I was doing. Just for a second there, by some trick of the light, her face glowing with inner pleasure, Chloe did look like a genie might look. Well, if Barbara Eden was any guide anyway. And then I decided I’d better try and hold onto whatever shreds of sanity I still had left. But whether I was sane or mad, she was a beautiful and desirable woman, I knew that much for certain and I wanted to fuck her until I wasn’t fit for anything but hibernation.

Then her eyes opened and stared deeply into mine: “You’re a nice guy, Rand.”

“How do you know that?”

“I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t a nice guy.”

I couldn’t make any sense out of that and, anyway, it really wasn’t polite to talk with my mouth full. But I kept looking up and saw Chloe smiling at me that women sometimes do when they’re looking at somebody they’re really fond of. Her fingernails scratched playfully against my shoulders. This was a hell of a relationship, the best I’d ever been in, and only five minutes old!

“My turn again, Rand.”

“What?”

“It’s your turn to lie on the couch while I give your cock a hand job and then try to suck your brains out through the end of it. But only if you want me to, of course.”