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Men Only
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Straight Male / 46
What A Man Needs Is To Catch His Prey Before He Eats It
It was pretty cold, raining sleet and I walked into a small German restaurant. The girl working was German, Ursula, in a German maiden dress, boobs pushed up. Her accent was heavy, but she had a good command of the language. I ordered hot chocolate and a pastry. Other than me the place was empty.
We talked, I noticed she had a scar along her cheek, starting at the corner of her mouth. It wasn't a surgical scar. We talked, I was in graduate school and got caught in the rain. She told me she had come with a serviceman, married. After she got her green card, they split up. It was the 'deal' they had. Now she was working near the university, she wanted to meet college students.
The place was pretty dead and the cook said he was closing early. She picked up, and I offered her a ride, my car was on the street behind the building. We went to the small house she was renting, a disabled car in the driveway. Inside she took off her coat and took mine back into the bedroom. I saw her slip out of her dress, she walked out in panties and bra and gave me a Hustler magazine to read while she changed. Again I saw her pull on a sweater, and a pair of pants. She never closed the door to the bedroom.
She offered me a beer, and sat down beside me, and leafed through the magazine. She licked her finger as she touched the girl's pussy, she spent more time on the girls who were clean shaven than the ones who went all natural bush. It was clear to me that she knew every page of the magazine, and she had her favorite girls.
One girl in particular captured her attention. A girl leaning back on a sofa. She stood and pealed off her sweater. Then her bra. Then standing, she turned and stepped out of her pants. Looking back at me over her shoulder, she slipped out of her panties. She turned, closely trimmed pussy, she leaned back on the sofa like the girl in the picture.
I watched, couldn't help my stare of her pussy, she opened her legs and used her index finger to finger her vagina. In spite of her behavior I just wasn't turned on. She was both vocal and physical, but I stood up and walked to the door.
It was sometime later before I got out there again, on the hunt.
We talked, I noticed she had a scar along her cheek, starting at the corner of her mouth. It wasn't a surgical scar. We talked, I was in graduate school and got caught in the rain. She told me she had come with a serviceman, married. After she got her green card, they split up. It was the 'deal' they had. Now she was working near the university, she wanted to meet college students.
The place was pretty dead and the cook said he was closing early. She picked up, and I offered her a ride, my car was on the street behind the building. We went to the small house she was renting, a disabled car in the driveway. Inside she took off her coat and took mine back into the bedroom. I saw her slip out of her dress, she walked out in panties and bra and gave me a Hustler magazine to read while she changed. Again I saw her pull on a sweater, and a pair of pants. She never closed the door to the bedroom.
She offered me a beer, and sat down beside me, and leafed through the magazine. She licked her finger as she touched the girl's pussy, she spent more time on the girls who were clean shaven than the ones who went all natural bush. It was clear to me that she knew every page of the magazine, and she had her favorite girls.
One girl in particular captured her attention. A girl leaning back on a sofa. She stood and pealed off her sweater. Then her bra. Then standing, she turned and stepped out of her pants. Looking back at me over her shoulder, she slipped out of her panties. She turned, closely trimmed pussy, she leaned back on the sofa like the girl in the picture.
I watched, couldn't help my stare of her pussy, she opened her legs and used her index finger to finger her vagina. In spite of her behavior I just wasn't turned on. She was both vocal and physical, but I stood up and walked to the door.
It was sometime later before I got out there again, on the hunt.
