Table Talk (M/F)


"She would be absolutely perfect for you," Erin said as she inclined
her head slightly toward a blond bimbo sitting at a booth in the
coffee shop.

"After all these years, I would have sworn you’d know me better," I
replied in mock indignation.  "Sure, she’s built right, and no man
alive could resist those knockers, but just look at that vacant
expression."

"The ‘anything for a drink’ look," Erin said coyly.  "It hasn’t
stopped you in the past, though."

"Maybe I’m looking for something more than another one night stand."

Erin’s eyes went wide and she clutched her chest in mock astonishment.
"You?  The eternal bachelor?  Passing up a good fuck?"

I smiled and I’m sure I had a light blush.  Erin had a right to be
skeptical; she knew me too well and had a better tally of the women I
had slept with than I did.  Erin is the only beautiful woman I know
with whom I have not slept, and that is not for lack of trying.  We
grew up together, and she is the closest friend I have in this world.
I’ve made passes at her before--any red-blooded man would--but she has
always politely turned me down.  

"Well, I am 30 now," I replied.  "The big three-oh.  It’s getting old
waking up in a strange apartment, or worse, waking up in my own
apartment with someone I barely know.  You’re still single, you know
how it is."

"I do," she assured me.  "I just never thought you’d get tired of the
hunt.  You can’t seriously be telling me you’re going to finally
settle down."

"I’ve given it some thought, yes."

"Anyone in mind?"

"You.  Always you," I admitted.

She smiled.  "Haven’t we gone over this before?"

"We have.  It’s why I’ve been so down lately."

She leaned forward and took my hand.  "One day, if I haven’t found Mr.
Right yet, and you haven’t found Mrs. Right, and I’m sure you’re not
going to chase the next pretty face that walks by after you’ve had
your fun with me, then maybe, just maybe…"

"Am I really that transparent?"

"You wear your motives as a bulge in your pants," she laughed, and I
had to join her, but soon I was brooding again.  

After a brief silence, Erin said, "I know how to cheer you up."

"And how’s that?" 

"Go buy that pretty blond a drink," she said with a wink.

"I’ll pass.  The company at this table is much nicer."

She made a playful face and then said, "I think you need perking up."

"I have a headache."

"She’s pretty.  That dress doesn’t leave all that much to the
imagination.  Just look at those hooters."  

"You’re not playing fair," I pleaded.

"I’m not talking to your mind!" Erin laughed.  "I’m talking to your
OTHER head.  She looks just slutty enough to let you fuck her breasts;
they look about the right size."

"I’d rather make mad, passionate love to you," I suggested.

"Buy her a drink, take her home and bend her over the kitchen table.
Stuff your meat up her hot, tight ass while you feel up her breasts, I
bet you won’t feel so down then."

"Let me run my tongue through your pussy until you beg me to fuck you
instead."

"With a few Irish coffees in her, she might just give you the best
blow job you ever had in your life.  Look at those lips, see how full
they are?  I bet they’d feel great around your cock."

"Just imagine how great you’ll feel when I slide into your hot, wet
pussy with my chest brushing against your erect nipples, your legs
around me, our lips meeting, our tongues dancing."

"Maybe she’s into games.  She might even like to be tied up to a bed,
completely at your mercy."  

"If you really want to make it a threesome…"  

Finally she broke off the intense conversation and laughed.  "You,
Barbie and me, wouldn’t you just love that!"

"I’d love just you," I countered.  "Tell me that the thought of you
and me together doesn’t excite you."

"Tell me the thought of you and Barbie doesn’t excite you.  If you say
no, you have to stand up."

"Touche."  

She dropped her eyes to the table.

"I’m dripping wet."

"Come home with me."

"I think tonight, I will go home with the fellow in the far table
behind you."

I turned around and saw an attractive man about Erin’s age.  Turning
back to face her, I sighed, "Well, I guess I’ll go buy Barbie a
drink."

"I knew you would."

"One day, Erin."

"One day."

Barbie’s real name was Jill.  She was a secretary out looking for a
good time and I don’t know if I talked her into bed so much as she
dragged me.  But as she spread her legs for me and guided me into her
warm, quivering pussy, it was Erin’s face I saw in my mind.  

One day.

-- Sandman

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