1
Laurie
I hate using Tinder. There’s something that’s just so depressing about on-line dating. Swipe left, swipe right, and the faces start blurring together. My hopes are always high in the beginning, only to come crashing down after five minutes.
Despite that, I was hoping luck would find me late this Christmas season. Sometimes I feel like the Grinch because I hate spending the holidays single. Of course, I’m not technically alone because I have my family, but the questions I get from various people asking about my relationship status are just so depressing.
“Have you met anyone nice?” my Aunt Carrie clucked last year. “You know, your cousin Harriet is already married with a baby on the way, and you girls are the same age!”
I smiled wanly at my aunt.
“Harriet was really lucky to meet Dominic while they were in high school, but unfortunately, I haven’t been so lucky. But I know Father Christmas is going to bring me an awesome man this year.”
Of course, Santa did not bring me an awesome man, which is why I’m single again this holiday season. Yet, hope springs eternal because tonight I have a date. The guy that I’m meeting, according to his Tinder profile, is named Shawn Payne. He was supposedly twenty-six, with dark hair, azure eyes, and he likes to keep his body in good shape. I say “supposedly” because you never know if you’re getting trolled. Maybe Shawn was actually a twelve-year-old boy living down the street who was pranking people for fun.
But Shawn looked like a dream on the computer screen at least. He was built, with a chiseled, powerful frame, and towered over his friends in the one group photo he’d posted. Nice. I like tall men, especially when they have cocky smiles.
Plus, we’d been talking frequently ever since connecting about a week ago. He was like me: a Los Angelino focused on building a career. One big reason why I’d swiped right was because he was employed by the magazine industry, just like me. However, whereas I had a stable job, Shawn was unfortunately hopping from place to place. I was a little self-conscious about our age gap—I was thirty to his twenty-six—but considering he’d been awfully flirty with me since we matched, I didn’t worry too much.
I arranged to have our Tinder date at a hotel bar in downtown L.A. Maybe we’d have some drinks, chat for a bit, and if things went well, we could get a room at the hotel for the night. I was dressed particularly sexy in a dark blouse that exposed a lot of back and cleavage, and a short dark skirt that complemented my curves.
So when Shawn turned out to be even better looking in person than in his photos, I was ecstatic. He was genuinely tall and handsome, and the button-up shirt and jeans emphasized that perfect masculine physique. We shook hands, he took his seat next to me at the bar, and we engaged in unimportant small talk.
After only a few minutes, I could tell that Shawn was a major playboy. This kind of date was not new to him, and he knew how to talk smoothly. To be honest, the alpha attitude worried me a little. If things went to the bedroom, would he listen to me? Or was everything going to happen his way? On the one hand, it made me nervous. On the other hand, I was titillated and wanted to find out more.
Taking a deep breath, I tried not to let things get away from me, and attempted to focus on what I knew. There was definitely an obvious, instant, and intense desire going on between us. Our words meant nothing because body language did the talking for us. We couldn’t keep our eyes off each other, and the air hummed with electricity. Every whisper and every word seemed to be an invitation.
In less than an hour, we paid for our drinks and headed up the elevator to Room 508.
The moment the door closed behind us, Shawn and I began to kiss furiously. He ran his hands up my skirt, and I ran my hands along his body under his shirt. His pecs were hard slabs of muscle, solid and firm. I ripped off his shirt and pants quickly and kissed every inch of him that my lips could get to. He slowly removed my blouse, tenderly but firmly caressing every part of me that he could reach.
He was the hottest guy I’d ever met on Tinder, no question about it. Even before I could rip off his boxers, I was craving what was hidden inside them. I was so turned on, and it was like going to a candy shop with an open purse -- I didn’t know where I wanted to begin.
Once the boxers came off, I was fully prepared to take him immediately. Instead, he pushed me onto the bed and nuzzled my pussy, making me mewl. Oh wow. No man I’d hooked up with via an app had even offered to do that for me, and here was this man doing the job with a willing smile.
While the alpha ate my drenched folds, he began to lightly rub my clit with two of his fingers. I grabbed onto his head, keeping him down there, ensuring that his tongue would stay buried inside of me until the job was done.
But Shawn resisted, maintaining his control. I was so close, but he pulled away from me, slowly crawling on top of my luscious form.
“What are you doing?” I asked in frustration. “I was almost there.”
“I’m trying to drive you wild,” Shawn growled. “I want you to beg for it.”
My smile grew knowing, but that’s okay.
“Please,” came my breathy pant. “Give it to me. Put it inside and make me feel good.”
Shawn grinned, flashing those bright whites. He had a nice, long tool, and he eased it in as we both moaned with passion. He went from slow to fast, drilling me with an intensity that I hadn’t felt in a long time. He not only had an amazing shaft but he knew how to use it too. To be honest, I’ve been in this hotel before with other men, but none of them had gotten me as turned on as this guy did.
Once he’d gotten a couple good strokes in, he pulled out and fell onto the bed beside me, that hardness pointed straight at the ceiling.
“Ride me,” he ordered.
Although it was a command, I was okay with it. Lifting one thigh, I straddled him. Even though the action was fast, the way that my body responded to his was even better.
His fat tip rammed against my walls just right, and with speed and determination, climax came quickly. I didn’t want to release immediately because I loved where I was sitting, with that thickness pulsing inside. Plus, I was enjoying watching him relinquish control. He reached around and grabbed onto my ass as I bounced on him.
“Pull my hair,” I ordered.
He obeyed, tugging my locks aggressively and with enough force that I felt like he might cause a little soreness the next day. I massaged my clit while I slid up and down his hot rod, and that was what finally sent me over the edge. I came harder than I ever had in my entire life, screaming and squealing as my pussy pulsed and spasmed on that mighty pole.
That propelled Shawn over the edge too. He roared, his back arching as mighty jets of virility spewed into my soaked channel. It was so good that I felt like I might black out. Luckily, that didn’t happen, but I was close.
Finally, we came back to life, and I collapsed against the man’s chest, naked and sweaty. My big boobs smushed against that hard slab of muscle, his thickness still buried in my puffy slit.