I closed my eyes and turned my face toward the sun, feeling the warm rays on my cheeks and face. The crowd was still filing in and the players milled around the field, some chatting, others stretching or playing catch. The pitchers were running lazy sprints in the outfield while several others crisscrossed the green grass, working on long throws to build their arm strength. Batting practice was coming to a close and the last groups of hitters rotated in and out of the batter's box, eagerly taking their last few swings. The ballpark was coming alive with the activity and pulse of the crowd and clusters of fans interacted with the action on the field, applauding a well hit line drive or just calling out, hoping for an autograph.
      As the seats began to fill, I was amazed with the diversity of the crowd. There were young boys wearing too-large Diamondback caps, carrying their baseball gloves, hoping for a chance to grab an errant flyball. Dads staring at their tickets, squinting at the seats, trying to navigate their young charges to the correct spots, while being distracted by the surreal activities of the players on the field. Young and old, men and women, all of them, lured here by the game of baseball. The crowd was full of anticipation and you could hear cries of recognition as the kids caught their first "up close" views of their idols.
      BANK ONE BALLPARK in Phoenix, is a scant three years old. Modeled after the old style ballparks of yesteryear, it combines a traditional atmosphere and design with all the amenities of a modern facility. (I even showed up on a Tuesday afternoon, months before it opened to participate in the "The Big Flush". After extensive instructions, over 3000 volunteers showed up, and at exactly 11:42am, we had simultaneously flushed all 16,460 urinals and toilets at the same time. That's when I knew the Diamondbacks would succeed� talk about planning ahead! ) The ballpark is an attraction all by itself, with a swimming pool in the right-center field seats and a museum of baseball memorabilia on the basement level.  Another great idea they'd come up with was their $1.00 ticket plan. Every game, they offered 2000 tickets for only $1.00 each to encourage walk up traffic. The only disadvantage was that you needed to show up 2 hrs before the game, they were first come-first serve, and it was one ticket per person. But I loved to watch the warm-ups, batting practice� and the girls as they entered the ballpark. The was never any shortage of pretty girls at the games, and the hot Phoenix sun made halter and bikini tops a common sight. Yes, I liked coming early. So, I'd coughed up my buck and settled in for this 5:00PM start.
      I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. I also loved the sounds of baseball� the murmur of the crowd growing louder as they entered the ballpark, the pop of the ball against leather, the cracking sound of the bat meeting the baseball, the occasional shout and whistle of the fans to their heroes. I tipped my head back again, relishing the warmth of the sun. The air was fresh with a gentle breeze and I could smell popcorn, mingled with the faint scent of tobacco, hot dogs & polish sausage. A few rows below my seat, an old timer in a beaten NY Mets cap was puffing a cigar, and I could almost taste the full rich flavor of the tobacco. The full-bodied aroma hinted of brandy, creamy nutmeg and black pepper and transported me back in time to the days of Cobb, DiMaggio and Ruth. The concession row in the main corridor of the stadium featured a vintage smokeshop and I was seriously considering checking it out.

"Excuse me, can I sneak by?"
 
      Jolted from my daydream, my jaw fell open as I was confronted with the sight of one of the most beautiful females I'd ever laid eyes on. I muttered an apology and sat up in my seat, drawing my legs in to let her by. She smiled sweetly, appearing sorry to have bothered me and began to sashay past me. Her big blue eyes twinkled at me, paralyzing me temporarily with their warmth. Her hair was a golden, honey blonde, soft and fine, the texture of silk and it fell seductively across her face, the flowing curls cascading over her shoulders. Her face was a golden tan, with the warm red glow of new sun on her skin. Her lips were rich, full and red, voluptuous and very naughty, against her blinding white teeth. She grinned sheepishly as she passed me, an engaging mix of playfulness and sex appeal. I was overwhelmed by the power of her gaze and I realized I was staring. She seemed to enjoy my look, leaning slightly over me as she passed, leaning her hand on my shoulder for support. She wore a short, teal, purple and yellow flower print sundress and sandals, the bare skin of her inner thigh flashing in front of me as she tiptoed to void my feet. Her body was equally incredible and I muttered to myself, delighted with a clear view of her cleavage and the outline of her untethered breasts below the sheer fabric of her dress. I felt the desire growing in my lap watching her breasts gently bounce as she sidestepped in front of me. The thin spaghetti straps highlighted her delicate neck and shoulders, as well as the warm glow of her skin and the intoxicating roundness of her tits. I was sure I could make out the imprint of her partially aroused nipples rubbing against her top as she swept past me. Her tanned legs were firm and round, her skirt barely covering her luscious bottom as it rippled in the gentle desert breeze.
I inhaled deeply as she stood in front of me. God, she smelled good! Her fragrance completely transformed my mood and focus. She was an intoxicating blend of "attraction" and "desire"� a complex combination of blonde bombshell, lust, heat and sexiness. It was something I'd never experienced before and probably never will again� it was the smell and effect all the fragrance companies promise, but can't truly deliver. I took a breath and put my hand over hers on my shoulder, helping to steady her, the smoothness of her skin sending a chill down my back in the summer heat.
If I was correctly reading his look of disdain for me, her boyfriend or husband followed her. He clearly didn't care for me touching her hand and I grinned stupidly as he moved by me. They crossed my row to the opposite isle and moved down several rows. Checking his tickets again, they found their seats.  She took the isle seat and she shot a glance back at me, grinning a huge smile as she caught me watching them. She was directly in the line of sight between me and home plate and I found myself "pretending" to watch the remainder of batting practice with renewed interest.
The game began and I found the sight of this ravishing blonde infinitely more interesting than the play on the field. Her guy seemed riveted to the game and she caught me looking at her on several occasions. Each time she smiled, not seeming to mind at all. Mid-way through the bottom of the second inning, the D'Backs got something going offensively. With only one out and runners on first and second, she glanced back at me. Meeting my gaze, she fired off a serious look that seemed to command me to pay attention to her.  Without taking her eyes from mine, she leaned over and whispered something to her boyfriend. That said, she winked playfully at me and rose from her seat. I sat back hard, surprised at her directness.  She kept her eyes on mine as she made her way up the stairs to the concession area! Was she really staring at me? Did I have food in my teeth? Was this gorgeous babe REALLY giving me the eye? I shot out of my chair and headed up the stairs to investigate. As I entered the concession area, I stopped, my eyes searching for her whereabouts.

"Were you STARING at me?" she asked, appearing out of the crowd.

I looked at my shoes, embarrassed. " I, uhh,  �well, yeah�  I guess so." I stammered. "I was just really taken off guard with how� uhh, how gorgeous you are."

She smiled again� "I'm sorry, I'm teasing you. I was staring at you too. My name's Whitney. You looked like someone I'd like to get to know better. With that comment, Whitney unashamedly began to check me out. Her dancing blue eyes considered my tanned athletic body, apparently approving of my curly brown hair and soft blue-green eyes. I shifted a bit uncomfortably as she scanned my broad shoulders and tight, powerful chest and arms. I wore a powder blue Diamondbacks polo shirt with purple and copper trim with baggy blue jean shorts that accentuated my muscular and powerful butt and legs. Her eyes trailed down to my waist and she took a deliberate and hungry look at the growing bulge in my crotch. I fidgeted and she glanced up at me, her eyes filled with eagerness, as if to reassure me that she liked what she saw. Her gaze returned to my crotch and she perused my chiseled, muscular thighs and calves. "Yeah, I think I'd REALLY like to get to know you better.  The only problem is, that I'm on a date."

I nodded sympathetically. " I guess I should ask for your number� I'm going to have a VERY hard time concentrating on the game. You're quite a distraction� a beautiful, sexy, very good distraction, I might add."

She grinned mischievously. "I never give out my number right away� I always wait until I bump into a new guy a second time. That way I can tell if it's infatuation, or if he's someone I should go out with."

I could see she was playing with me and decided to play along. "Well then I guess I'll need to run into you later on� say middle of the fourth inning? I'll probably be looking at one of those expensive cigars in the Smokeshop."

She smiled. "I LOVE the smell of cigars, maybe I'll run into you" she cooed. She turned on her heels and headed back toward her seat, the outline of her delicious bottom evident as it wiggled under her skirt.

      Well, the Diamondbacks scored a couple of runs that inning, but I was so preoccupied I don't remember much about it. I couldn't wait for the next out, anxiously awaiting the middle of the fourth inning. Whitney continued to look in my direction. Only now, she was hanging on her boyfriend, catching my gaze and kissing his neck or nibbling his ear. Unbelievably, this guy was so into the game, he practically ignored her. I, on the other hand, was getting incredibly turned on watching her perform for me. She rubbed her tits against his arm, her lips glistening as she kissed him. Finally, it was time and she stood up and headed for the concessions, not looking in my direction for the first time since our first meeting.

"Hello again." she giggled at me as I perused the cigars.

"Hi Whitney" I declared, liking how her name sounded as it rolled off my tongue. We moved off to the side of the concession area and nestled in against a huge concrete pillar so we were out of traffic.
"I just have a moment, do you know where the Hall, of Fame Museum is?" she asked, moving closer, her hands going to my hips.  I laughed to myself, looking at the huge sign above the doors to the stairs. "HALL OF FAME MUSEUM - Basement Level" the sign said.

I touched her waist, gently pulling her toward me. "I do. Would it be appropriate if I asked you to go see it with me?" I answered.

"I'd love to! I'll have to give you my number." She coyly said. She didn't resist my touch, sinking into me, her lips inches from mine. " I have to go right now� but here's a sneak preview of what to look forward to."

Whitney wrapped her arms around my waist and melted into my embrace. Her lips brushed against mine, slowly and deliberately. Her kiss was sweet and passionate and I held her gentle frame in my arms, feeling her skin, her silky soft lips, feeling her breasts, nipples excited, against my chest. She leaned into me, her tongue darting into mine, our kiss probing, erotic and intense. My hands dropped to her ass, massaging her tight, round cheeks, my fingers hiking up the back of her skirt as we embraced. I reached underneath and felt the thin fabric of her panties, knowing how little separated me from her womanly treasure. Backing her against the concrete pillar, my body hid her from view, not that anyone had any business or interest in this area of the concession anyway. I pressed the palm of my hand against her warm, pubic mound, her hips pressing her pussy into my grasp. I could feel her growing wet, my fingers tracing her warm moist opening. She groaned a little and we broke our kiss.

"Ooooooo, I have to go� and I don't have anything to write my number on." She complained sweetly.

"If you lost something 'accidentally", I could look for you and return it. That way, I'd have an excuse to run into you and you wouldn't need to leave me your number" I offered helpfully, my hands on her bottom.

"That's fine, but I don't know what I could possibly "lose". I don't even have a purse with me."

"I have an idea� hold on.". I commanded her. Taking my hands from her curvaceous hips, I reached under her skirt and grasped the waistband of her panties. In one swift motion, I roughly yanked them down to her knees. She gasped with surprise and I dropped to one knee to slide them further down to her ankles. Whitney pulled me toward her, leaning on me, pressing my face into the front of her. I could smell her sex and felt her mound of pubic hair against my cheek through the sheer material of her sundress. She held her breath as she obediently and reflexively stepped out of her panties allowing me to gather them into my hand. I straightened up, her sheer baby blue panties warm and wet in my hand. She stood before me, radiant, her face flush with desire. I kissed her again and she voraciously kissed back. I allowed my hand to slide to her ass again and I caressed her naked bottom, grinding my thick, erect cock against her as I kissed her.

"You'd better go� I'll look for you under that sign later. Shall we say�? Bottom of the seventh inning? I asked, finally releasing her, my member aching as she rubbed it through my shorts.

"I can't wait� " She said. Her face smoldered with passion, a look of unbridled lust and desire. I watched her smooth her dress, and wiggle back toward the runway to the stadium seats.

CHAPTER 2 - THE "DATE"

        Well, that could have been the greatest game of Baseball ever played in the history of Sport. However, I couldn't tell you what the score was, who played, who pitched, or anything else about it. The one thing I CAN tell you about is� Whitney. I can remember what she wore, how she smelled, how her skin felt against my lips, how she giggled and squirmed from my touch. I can try to tell you how she affected me � but I'm not sure I've really grasped all the ramifications of Whitney's presence in my life yet myself. All I really know is that she is almost addictive in her appeal.
I followed her back into the stadium area and watched her carefully heading down the steps to her seat, one hand on the railing, the other in front of her pressing the front of her skirt against her now naked pussy. I could see she was suddenly very aware of the shortness of her skirt and she moved deliberately, so as not to swirl her skirt around unnecessarily. I put my hand in my pocket, fingering the soft, still damp fabric of her panties, the scent of her, strong and inebriating. I couldn't take my eyes off her and she stole many a glance back at me in anticipation as the game progressed. Her gaze had changed from a playful giggle to a lusty, almost hungry, wanton look. One other thing I can say for certain� that was the LONGEST two innings of baseball ever played� to me, at least.
      As the beginning of the seventh inning began, I eagerly left my seat and headed for the concession area. My heart was pounding with nervousness and I crossed under the sign to the museum and started down a flight of concrete stairs. I followed the directions pointed out by the writing on the wall, thinking about the taste of Whitney's lips. Two flights of steps later, I stood at the main entrance, facing an ornate, set of double-doors. The sign above announced the entrance to the museum. There were large glass display cases on each side of the doorway filled with bats and balls, all hinting at the baseball memorabilia inside. Museum hours of operation were posted on the wall and I was devastated to find that it had been closed since the end of the second inning. I grabbed hold of the large, brass doorknob and turned it, with no success. It was locked. I scanned the area for another entrance� no luck. I circled the foyer. Disappointed, I gazed at the items in the case, noting the doors to a freight elevator in the darkness of the corner and an unused sandwich sign leaned against the wall. I sighed and approaching the elevator, punching the "Up" button.

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN HERE?!"

I jumped and turned to find Whitney behind me, her hands over her mouth, giggling wildly, her firm, playful breasts rising and falling.

"Very funny" I smiled wryly, "I think I peed my pants. You scared the shit out of me!"

She was still laughing, but she looked sympathetic. "You're so cute, I couldn't resist" she giggled. "I'm sorry� is it closed?"

The elevator opened and  I held the door, letting her pass in front of me. "Since the second inning� want to explore?" I asked. She nodded and I followed her into the elevator car. "Where to?" I asked.

She peered at the buttons, a set of elevator keys inserted in the console. Whitney considered her decision for a second and reaching out, pecked the button marked "ROOF". The car lurched upward and I stopped to look at her again. God, she was magnificent! She stood a few feet away from me, her legs shoulder width apart, tanned, curvaceous and firm. She held the railing of the elevator on each side of her, elbows back, chest out, the firm mounds of her tits stretching the material. Her sundress clung to her every curve and she stared into my eyes, her breasts rising and falling with each breath she took.
As the elevator rose, I subconsciously watched the numbers. We came to a halting stop. The "R" signifying "ROOF" was lit, but the door didn't open. Whitney looked at the keys hanging from the console and muttered something to herself. Reaching out, she turned the elevator key first one way, then the other. Amazingly, the door opened. Whitney grinned, pleased with her ingenuity. We stepped into a 6'x 6' cubicle leading to a door labeled, "ROOF ACCESS". I tried the knob, and to my astonishment, it turned. I pulled the door open, the skyline of Phoenix enfolding majestically before us.
It was a perfect evening in Phoenix� 85 degrees with a light breeze. The sun had disappeared, the sky was clear and the stars were out and shining. The last remnants of daylight lurked just over the horizon and we could still make out the now grays and purple-blues of the patchy white clouds of the day. The sights of downtown Phoenix stretched out below us, traffic moving through the maze of buildings like ants through an ant farm. The landing we stepped out onto was probably 10' x 10', on the South-East Corner of the roof of BankOne Ballpark, just below the slope of the retractable dome. It was attached to a series of ladders and catwalks that bordered the massive structure. This was obviously a station designed to provide access for maintenance workers who needed to service the roof and dome. The landing was completely safe, encircled with railing, and apparently also served as someone's break area during the day. There was a sturdy, but sun-faded chaise lounge in one corner, an office trash can and a littering of soda cans and crumpled trash.
The roof of the retractable dome was open tonight and we were directly above the right field foul pole. There was a blind spot directly below us, but we could see the infield and we dreamily gazed directly into the mouth of the huge stadium at the action below. The murmuring of the crowd, the organ music, even the faint hints of tobacco and cigars wafted up to us as I moved to the railing. "WOW! I wonder how much these seats go for!" I observed sarcastically.

Whitney cautiously followed me onto the concrete landing. "Your seat, my darling?" I played, standing and pulling the lone chaise lounge around, aiming it at the open stadium dome.
Whitney stood watching me, a serious, intent look on her lovely face. Her golden hair was waving in the breeze, gleaming in the moonlight. Up this high, the breeze was much more brisk than on the ground and her skirt rippled in the breeze. She no longer held it down, allowing me gratuitous glimpses of her pussy and upper thighs.
      Stunned by this vision, I stopped and stood up straight, drinking her in. Her golden hair gently swayed in the wind and she smiled, knowing what I was thinking. She placed her hands, palms flat, on her stomach. She softly stroked and caressed her stomach and breasts, her nipples coming to life beneath the sheer material. She spread her legs a bit further and took a deep breath, her head tipping momentarily backward as she felt the warm desert breeze between her legs. The skirt of her sundress flapped up, exposing her neatly trimmed golden-brown bush of pubic hair. I muttered amazement to myself and she grinned more wickedly as she hooked her thumbs under the thin spaghetti straps of her dress. Whitney's eyes smoldered, and as if reading my mind, dragged the straps over her shoulders, letting her top fall, the pastel peaches and pinks of her breasts glowing in the starlight. Her fingers fluttered over her nipples, the deep red areola puckering and reacting to her knowing touch.
I took a step toward her, and her body hungrily greeted mine. I wrapped my arms around her, swallowing her delicate, voluptuous frame. My lips touched hers, our tongues wildly exploring each other's passion. She dropped her hands to my waist and pulled, untucking my shirt. We broke our embrace long enough for her to pull it over my head. My bare chest and stomach were illuminated by the glow of the stadium below, and she touched me, sparks coursing through me as she fondled me. I kissed her again, the sweetness of her taste and the velvet softness of her lips enough to make me swoon. Whitney leaned forward slightly, her nipples grazing against the tightness of my chest. I cupped her lovely mounds and squeezed firmly, a gasp escaping her mouth and she pressed her palm against the rigid-ness of my growing cock. The feel of my arousal seemed to excite her further and she became more frantic, less controlled, fumbling to unsnap my shorts. She drew the zipper down, my cock springing forward, still contained by the soft cotton of my briefs. I needed to taste her again and I kissed her, nipping her neck and collarbones, smelling the flowery, lusty smell that was Whitney. She plunged her hand under my shorts,grasping my thick, hard member, stroking it, my knees practically buckling with the pleasure. I reached behind her and unzipped the short zipper near the small of her back. Her skirt was now free of her curvaceous hips. I held it with one hand, allowing it to drop to her ankles.
As it fell, I slowly dropped to my knees, trailing kisses over her velvety soft breasts as I went, lingering over her sweet, pink nipples. I kneeled before my Goddess now, staring directly at her throbbing opening. I gently brushed my fingers against her inner thighs and she responded, as I wished, opening her legs. I gazed at her magnificent beauty, her pussylips moist, completely in awe.
Whitney had no tanlines, the bronzed color of her stomach, chest and tits surrounding her thick patch of golden brown pubic hair. She was perfectly trimmed and extremely wet and aroused. The delicate column of her curly pubic hair extended below the "V" of her pussy, the tight curls matted and sopping with her juices. I kneeled before her, and marveled at the swollen, wanting lips of her pussy, an erotic pink contrast to her bronzed body. I placed my hands on her waist, stroking her curves, massaging, trying to fathom her loveliness. I kissed the skin above her pubic bone. She twitched and I felt her arch her back with the sensation of my tongue. She ran her slender, nimble fingers through my curly hair, pulling and tugging, trying to guide my mouth as it explored her sensitive private area. I continued to nibble and kiss and ran my tongue down lower, approaching her warm, wet slit. I could smell her sex now and I thought I would tear free of my shorts as her scent heightened my arousal. I licked all around her swollen pussy and she began to gyrate and buck her hips. She moaned for me to "eat her" and with very little self-control left, I finally plunged my tongue into her warm, dripping pussy. She groaned with delight as I eagerly flicked my tongue all around her moist, slippery opening. The taste of her sex was exquisite, and I hungrily lapped at her, sucking her delicate pink folds into my mouth, searching for her raw, sensitive clit. She was dripping with desire and I could feel her juices all over my face and chin, adding to my arousal. Finally, she began to tense and I knew she was close to orgasm. I renewed my tender attack and as I felt her begin to spasm, I sucked hard, licking at the sensitive button of her clit with all my might. "OOOOoooooooo" she screamed, her pussy actually spewing more of her sex onto my chin and face, her soft, inner thighs already soaked with her juices.
It was at that moment that I think Whitney looked the most beautiful. She was utterly and completely naked, soaked and glistening with perspiration and her own wetness. She was framed beautifully by the stars and city lights, totally uninhibited, her golden blonde hair in her face, breasts quivering, nipples erect, legs spread, her perfectly trimmed pubic hair wet and matted with her sex, pussy glistening. God, I get hard just thinking about it.
She stood, leaning on me, the waves of pleasure rocking her beautiful body, pulling at my hair wildly. I released my hold on her pussy and standing up, looked into her eyes. She had a dreamy, faraway look, like she'd just awoke from a deep sleep. She caught my gaze and smiled at me, muttering something to no one in particular. I turned her, laying her down on the chaise. The beautiful line of her figure, intoxicating, the moisture of her pussy glistening down her thighs in the starlight. She settled into the chaise, and looked at me intently.
      My cock was aching for escape and I stood before her, clad only in my underwear. I shyly peeled them down, allowing my erect, throbbing cock to spring forward. Her face broke into a huge smile and her fingers searched for and fondled her hot, wet pussy. I moved to her, naked, wanting her, wanting to pleasure her. She leaned forward to greet me and grasped my erect penis. Whitney opened her wonderful mouth and took all of me, eagerly, and totally. I've never felt pleasure like that before and to say that she was great is an understatement. Now it was my turn to writhe and twist in pleasure. Very soon, I was ready to cum and she teased me, alternating between sucking me fully and nuzzling and licking the sensitive red tip of my penis, drawing my pleasure out unselfishly, but driving me crazy at the same time. Finally, I couldn't take it any more. I had to have her.
"I want to fuck you now." I gasped as she teased me with her tongue. "Stand up".
        Whitney stood and I kissed her once more, marveling at her sweetness. I turned her around, wrapping my arms around her, my hands cupping her full, wonderfully bronzed tits. I twisted her nipples between my fingers, amazed at the firmness. I leaned her forward, her arms resting on the cool, metal railing. I stroked her cheeks and positioned her beautiful, firm butt toward me. She looked perfect there, her bronzed body tight and ready. I opened her legs and held my breath as I gazed at the wonderful sight of her pussy from behind. The slope of her ass was wonderful and her pussylips were swollen and red, the folds of her vagina yawning open, a drop of her cum still dangling from the curls of her pubic hair. I ran my hands furiously all over her body, wanting to feel her every breath. I brushed her pussy with my cock and she twitched with pleasure, moaning softly. I took my cock in my hand and rubbed it all around her now throbbing pussy, her lubrication again dripping from her opening. She writhed with anticiption and I slowly found her slit, and firmly pressed my hardened cock into her soaked opening. She and I both groaned with the incredible sensation. She began to scream, "Fuck me, Ohhhh, Yes, please fuck me!" I was amazed she could feel me at all she was so wet, and I began to pound away at her, burying my member as deep as I could go. She was as ready as I was, and I could fell her shudder as she again climaxed. I continued pumping away at her and could feel her tighten against my shaft as I slammed into her, her breasts swaying back and forth as I slapped into her. Finally, I could take no more and I ardently came, filing her pussy with my boiling seed. I felt her begin to cum again and she shook with the intensity of her orgasm, my cock spurting my last few drops onto her butt and lower back. I collapsed forward, holding her, smearing my cum between our sweaty, exhausted bodies.
        I held her like that, leaning against the railing, enthralled with the sight of the stadium below us, wishing it could last forever. She began to stir, holding my hands with hers, massaging her breasts. "You feel sooo good." She purred. She wiggled against me, her pussy and pubic hair brushing my stiffened dick. I held her tightly, my cock growing harder with her movements. "God, you're getting me hard again, you're incredible". I turned her around and roughly grabbed her nipples. I twisted them and she winced, smiling at me. "I want to fuck YOU this time� sit down" She ordered.      I sat on the edge of the chaise, clothes scattered around me, my hard, erect member standing tall and straight again in the moonlight. She carefully climbed onto the end of the chaise, using my shoulder to steady her and straddled my body. Her pulsing twat was eye level to me again and I just had to taste her. I pulled her hips to my mouth and attacked her dripping pussy, tasting my own cum inside her. She allowed me to suck her for a few moments and then gently pulled my head from her opening. "Lay back, I'm going to fuck you now" she commented dirtily. I leaned back, supporting myself on my elbows and watched fascinated. She bent at the knees and squatted over me. She glanced at my face and moaned slightly, her eyes rolling back, her face contorted beautifully with pleasure. I watched as she lowered herself onto my waiting member. The folds of her pussy erotically opened, accepting my thick, red penis, caressing it as it swallowed into her rapture. Her body twitched, and she pressed onto me, her pussy completely soaked, totally engulfing my cock. I could feel her pubic hair, wet with sex, mingling with the thick mound of mine. She arched her back, not fucking me, simply enjoying how I filled her so completely, enjoying the sensations of the moment.
        She gently began to rock her hips, and then slowly began to bob up and down, the slick coating of our juices mingling together to lubricate my member. She began to fuck me more quickly now, slamming her ass down onto me as she came down. She leaned a hand behind her, holding the edge of the chaise, her other hand playing in my pubic hair, her fingers dancing through the thick bush. I watched her passion begin to build, her breasts bouncing wonderfully with each downward movement. She began to pull at my pubic hair, the pain heightening my arousal. As I neared my peak, she flushed, her tan skin flaming red as she lost control.

"Are you going to cum baby?" I asked, holding my load as I began to climax.

"Yes, yes� yes" she answered accentuating each stroke with her words. She tensed, and suddenly stopped, her head lolling forward. Her body coiled as she paused and when she moved again, she screamed aloud. "Yeeessssss, OOOaaaahhhhh, Oooooohhhh" as she wildly thrashed on top of me. I came simultaneously, spurting the last remnants of my body's cum into her already full pussy. She jerked and twisted, her honey blonde hair flying in her face, breasts heaving, her pussy stretched wide, the wetness of her sex soaking us both. This girl was wonderful and though I wanted to tell her, I couldn't find the words. She rolled forward, the last waves of her pleasure rolling over her body, her pointed breasts naked against my chest. I held her, still inside her, stroking her hair. She looked like an angel, eyes closed in rapture, her naked back and perfect ass highlighted by the stars above.
        We didn't say much as we dressed. The game was almost over and we needed to hurry. We cleaned up as best we could, but as we rode the elevator down to our seating level, I was aware that we smelled like we'd been fucking all night. I kissed her a final time as I sent her back to "her date". She'd commented that she was going to claim to have been watching the game in one of the concession bars. I watched her walk away, gripping her phone number in my fist, her ass perfectly bumping and grinding as she wiggled down the steps. I was heartbroken to be losing her, but excited for the future.
      My concern for the game completely gone, I absently found my car and headed home. After a leisurely drive, filled with erotic thoughts, I stopped for a burger and pulled up to my house. I climbed out of the car, my thoughts on Whitney. I slowly headed for the door, and patted my pocket, reassuring myself that the scrap of paper was still there. I held my keys out and fished through the key chain until I found my house key. I stabbed at the lock and went to turn the key when I was jolted from my thoughts again.

"HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE!"

For the second time in a night I stared, at first angry, then overjoyed. Whitney sat in a patio chair, her long, sleek, tanned legs stretched out in front of her. Once again, she was giggling, one hand behind her back, the other covering her smiling, gorgeous face.

"Surprised to see me?' she asked me coyly.

"Of course I'm surprised� I'm� how did you�." I stammered.

She held up my wallet. My hand reached for my back pocket, realizing that it must have fallen out of my shorts. "I felt like I should return it personally.

"You know� I'm an artist?" I asked. She nodded. "I'd love to draw you, would you be interested in seeing my studio?"

She giggled her approval. "I'd love to� would this drawing be in the nude?"

"You never know what can happen." I said, pushing the door open.

"No you don't." She smiled, "By the way, I had something else I thought I should give to you."

She smiled, standing up. Not waiting for my response, she dug her fingers under the skirt of her sundress and peeled her baby-blue panties down to her ankles. She stepped out of them and plucked them from the toe of her sandaled foot. She held them out, offering them to me. I took the erotic garment, a new dampness soaking them, unable to contain my pleasure, the bulge in my crotch giving me away.

"I also brought you one last thing. I thought we could share it." She reached down and picked something up off the chair. Stepping forward into the light, she took my hand. In the other, she held out a very expensive, thick, full bodied cigar. "I just LOVE cigars!" she smiled naughtily. I took it from her, recognizing the nutmeg and peppery tobacco.

"I don't think I've ever smoked a cigar before", I confessed.

She leaned forward and playfully kissed me. "Who said anything about smoking it? �After all, it's like you said� You never know what may happen."

THE END

To Whitney, From Ed