5 comments/ 13199 views/ 6 favorites Real Men Still Exist By: PayDay This story is my story, I wrote it, stealing is lame. If you don't like it, don't read it. This story has been re-submitted, with minor tweaks and corrections, feel free to complain. I hope you enjoy instead: Real Men Still Exist Or The Joys of Autophobia Not another one. "Oh god, here he comes..." Eileen huffed under her breath as she snatched up the free $8 Cosmo in front of her, napkin and all, in an attempt to thwart him. He couldn't be so uncultured as to speak to a woman who fronted zero interest in him, let alone one whom already had a drink. She crossed her left leg over her right, and turned away from him. Truth be told, Eileen had no idea how the male mind worked, nor did she realize the power of a small red straw on ruby lips, or toned thighs under a pleated skirt - but she was learning fast. Her lack of interest drew him closer, speedier; he was so inept that he took it as a sign of her obvious attraction. This guy really thought he was smooth. She could feel his lecherous stare on her toned thigh and perky side-boob. She guessed and knew that he was not blinking. "Yo boys," she thought as she unconsciously shook her head and frowned. He approached, standing too close for comfort. "Hey yo, babe. My name is Jeff. You're looking fine tonight. Why don't you get dat ass of yers up and dance wit me." The smile on his face finally revealed to Eileen what a 'shit eating grin' really was. He didn't pause as he spoke from memory, nor did he pronounce his syllables. His baggy, trendy clothes, his cheap watch, and his off--angled, upturned hat, made her gag a little. Perhaps it was his cheap, overused, flavor-of-the-month body spray. She didn't need this. "Fuck it..." she thought. "Don't you want to know my name first?' she asked brazenly, turning to face him directly, her amber eyes suddenly shrinking and turning to black fireballs. Her legs were still crossed, and her perfectly manicured nails began to tap the bar, for some reason the 'tap tap tap' was louder than the music in the club. Her drink was still in her other hand. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, except for a sexually frustrated, workaholic red head. Jeff felt his cock shrink, and his balls retreat, she was out of his league; his stereotyped mind could not grasp what was happening. In a boyish, childlike fashion, he retorted. "Whatever, bitch. I just wanted to dance," and turned in search of easier, dumber, and/or sluttier conquests. "Wonderful," she thought, "very adult and mature." As he walked away, she set down her drink, and sighed, wondering why she even let Jenna drag her here. She also wondered what happened to all the real men her mother had told her about. *** "Come on, it'll be fun. I need a wingman, and you never go out with me anymore," she heard Jenna squeal through the phone. "I don't know..." came her predictable reply. Eileen had not been social in a long time, but she had her reasons. She was going to be a professional woman, and The Law takes up a lot of time, especially for the budding legal assistant with hopes of post graduate school and a full law degree. "Ooooh pleeeeease," came the response from Jenna, before Eileen could make up another excuse, for the umpteenth time. "I'll even let you borrow some of my clothes, it'll be fun. We'll get all dolled up, and sexy, you might even meet a guy. 'Cause you need one," Jenna was giggling uncontrollably before she even finished speaking, and Eileen knew she was right. She'd been working too hard, for too long, and her plastic man really wasn't doing it anymore, she needed flesh. Eileen heard herself agree before she had the ability to comprehend the reasoning. "Great, bitch, be at my apartment by eight," and the phone clicked. If the two hadn't been friends for so long, since childhood, they probably would not be. Eileen had her career in mind, while Jenna was always thinking about dick and the boys. (ha) As Eileen put her phone away, and went back to her lunch, she suddenly began to think like her friend. "It has been a long time," she thought to herself as she pictured her last rendezvous with a man, one of a very short, but well used list. He was the starting wide receiver from her college, or 'wide giver' as Jenna liked to call him. He was pretty, but dumb, and he never treated her like a woman, only a piece of ass. It had been over a year and a half since their last tryst, which was during her last semester of college. Eileen never saw him again after that - because his girlfriend had called his cell mid coitus. She felt a little used when he left, and had found the filled condom just laying on her high thread count bed sheets, even though the wastebasket was only a foot away. She found herself idly tonguing one of her carrot sticks as she thought about his muscles. "Maybe Mom was wrong, and all the good ones were taken right out of high school. Maybe anything is better than nothing." Eileen was no prude, but she came across as frigid, simply because she wanted a man to set her on fire, a man with something to offer other than a few tweaks and a thrust. "I must be the only person with morals that wants to be a lawyer," she mused to herself as she started back towards the office. "At least it's Friday." *** True to her word, Jenna had them both looking sexy by 8:30, which is drastically an understatement - and a record time. Both of the young women were knockouts to begin with, slightly taller than most, athletically lean, and stacked short of defying gravity, Jenna the unnatural blonde and Eileen the natural, freckleless bright red. Shortly after she had arrived, Eileen was saying "I'm not putting that on," but by 9 PM when they walked into the club, from the cab, they had matching 'school girl' outfits, complete with loose, oversized, overly triangular ties. Jenna skirt was blue plaid to match her eyes; Eileen's was red for no reason at all; more open buttons on their white shirts being the only other difference beyond color. Jenna, being the type of girl she was, loved the draw her cleavage and short skirt had. Eileen, being the type of woman she was, preferred men to look her in the eye, leaving only one button undone on her shirt. As good as Eileen looked though, it would take a strong willed man, one similar to Jesus. Thirty minutes after they arrived, Jenna was no where to be found, and Eileen was tired of men she didn't know pinching her ass. She stomped off the dance floor, by herself. When Eileen approached the bar, she asked the ebony god of a man (similarly built to the wide giver) for another drink. "Cosmo, right?" he asked her, and she nodded. Moments later he was back, with a beautiful smile on his face. "Here ya go, sweetie," he said as he set down the drink on a napkin that contrasted his skin wonderfully. "Thanks... you wouldn't happen to be single, would you?" She asked as she dropped the $20 bill on the bar. This made him chuckle, as he looked at the sex bomb in front of him. "Sorry, doll, taken," he continued to smile, "but it looks like you won't have to worry. I see a few pigmentally challenged fellas itching to come and talk to you," he stated blankly as he nodded in the general direction of the dance floor. Eileen turned to look, and saw only trendy boys with stickers on their hats. "Ugh," she said as she turned back to the bar, "Keep the drinks coming as fast as possible." The large, dark man, still smiling, said: "Sure thing, lovely," and went to another customer. He never touched her money, and she was on her third free drink by the time Jeff shriveled away. It was then she noticed the icon blinking on her phone, a text from Jenna. "Found some boys, call you tomorrow" was all it said. "Bitch," she commented aloud to herself, but she didn't mean it. She was just jealous that her friend could so easily find what she wanted. She dropped another $20 on the bar, on top of the other, knowing she had found a new favorite bartender for her sorrows. She was about to get up, and hit the bathroom before leaving, when he walked in. Suddenly Eileen was locked in place. Some women have the ability to stop traffic, others to dumbfound a man when he tries to speak, and some women have the ability to cream their panties at the sight of their perfect man. Eileen did just that. Her legs unconsciously clamped together, her nipples hardened, and her breasts swelled as the phrase "Oh my lord..." slipped from her lips. She suddenly felt warmth all over her body, and he hadn't even fully entered the club. The double doors that made the entrance to the club were no taller than average, and his head almost touched it. Six foot five, maybe more - she couldn't tell - but he was definitely the largest man she had ever gazed upon. He looked as wide and solid as one of the double doors, like a perfectly sculpted man, only larger, dwarfing the fellow he was speaking to, and the bouncer who was holding the door for them. Eileen could see a few of the ladies outside, behind those red ropes, mirroring her internal expressions. He appeared totally oblivious to their awe, as if it didn't matter. A moment or two later, once he had finished talking to the man by the door, he surveyed the dance floor. Out of no where, he lifted his arm and pointed to the DJ. Eileen's eyes followed the casual movement of his arm, and watched each sinew of his perfect muscles ripple beneath his plain thermal shirt. "Look at his shoulders, yum... and his chest... ooo, and those arms," her panties were soaked and her legs were squirming as she was thinking to herself. "They must be three feet long." She began to think this man could make her a squirter, along with a hundred other dirty and filthy thoughts. Her eyes continued to follow in the direction of his pointed finger, when she noticed the DJ pointing back at him, and that the current song had abruptly ended. By the time the song she loved - and hadn't heard in ages - began to play, the man of her attentions was making his way to the bar. She giggled aloud when she saw Jeff shrink for the second time that evening, as the girl he was currently attempting to hit on was turning her attentions to the mystery man. Jeff jumped, dove, out of the way as the man passed, and the girl of Jeff's attempt suddenly looked sad. She was pretty, and the man paid her zero mind. It was then that Eileen realized he was coming her way. She had inadvertently, or advertently (your choice), sat at the farthest away point from the dance floor, at the corner of the bar, one of the cash registers just a few feet away. This appeared to be his spot, and he appeared to own this room. The song the DJ had chosen for him elicited a cheer from the dancers on the floor, and suddenly very few women were staring his way; the booze and beats taking over for most. He was less than ten feet away from her, and she took a deep breath to clear her head, trying to peer at him with a clear mind. "Bad kitty," she thought as she tried to reign in her body. The closer he moved towards her, the larger he appeared. She began to take notes on his features, his jaw was strong, and was totally proportionate. It looked as if he had not shaved that day, and his hair was too long, it was actually done in a bundle towards the top of the back of his head, random strands falling here and there, almost like an unkempt samurai. Light brown wavy hair, with random natural blonde streaks, shiny from the lighting. He was in jeans to go with the thermal shirt; at this distance she could tell the clothes were simple and worn, but very expensive, like boutique clothing from the clearance rack. The bottom cuffs of his jeans were slit on either side to fit over his sneakers. Not simply baggy pants, but tailored boot cut. That is what caught her attention the most: His slightly worn, slightly dirty sneakers. They were a style she had never seen, in an off red color that barely matched his off red shirt, and his perfectly faded slightly frayed jeans. He was everything she knew she shouldn't like. A total combination of every thing she and her friends joked about never wanting: long hair, scruffy, simple, and not quite matching. Altogether though, he was making her nipples ache and her sex scream - and he hadn't even looked at her. He was looking at everything around him, not focusing on anything in particular as he walked. He stopped four bar stools away from Eileen, but didn't sit right away. "H-hey, Darren," the giant stuttered in a barely audible, strangely quiet voice, but she felt the deep tremors of a tenor. They went straight to her clit, each syllable. "H-how are t-those tips tonight?" She almost came, but she also felt as if he were holding back, trying to keep the power out of his voice. "They're pretty good so far, Pro, thanks again for this hook-up," Darren replied. Eileen thought they must be old friends, slowly pondering their clashing skin tones. "N-no prob-blem, Sir, I owed you and M-mely a huge f-favor, I'm g-glad you like it h-here." The giant, who had a blank expression on his face, began to slightly smile, more like a smirk, but he still hadn't looked at Darren. He was still surveying the dance floor, the lighting, the counter top. "So are you sticking around? Do you want a drink or something? Maybe a G&T?" Darren asked, though he had grabbed a short glass before the giant answered. He moved his leg so that his foot was slightly higher than the other, resting it on the round foot rest at the bottom of the bar. "I dunno, man..." The giant replied as Eileen's eyes were instantly glued to his ass and left leg. He had put his hands on the molded edge of the bar, covering the smooth wood from top to bottom, then holding on and leaning back. His fingers gripped the wood suddenly and he pulled himself forward, causing his muscles to snap flexed for an instant beneath his almost tight shirt. Eileen let out a moan, and swore she dribbled onto the bar stool. The instant she was audible, his head turned to stare directly at the center of the space between them. Had he heard her? Did she want him too? She could not tell. It was like he wasn't paying attention to her at all, and it was driving her into a frenzy. "Sorry, Jeff," she mused silently. "You should, brotha, you really should," Darren replied, as the smile on his face had gotten bigger, his pearly whites contrasted to his skin. At this remark the giant tilted his head to the side, like a ditzy cheerleader, "W-why's that?" he questioned while staring at Darren's teeth. Eileen had to smile at his genuine confusion, "My god he is sexy!" she thought to herself as she continued to eavesdrop. Darren made no reply, he simply pointed directly at Eileen with his index finger, while his thumb was up in the air, the glass still in his hand nearest to her. Eileen's jaw dropped for a split second while she turned from staring at Darren's finger, to the face of the giant. Now he was looking right at her, and standing up straight. His posture was perfect. His eyes looked like a never ending dark blue ocean, and a real smile worked its way onto his face. He was beautiful to her in a way she had never seen, and his smile was a killer. Eileen moaned again, and began to shiver, but this time, she was coming. She could smell herself, and she knew he was looking right into her, reading her, studying her. The moral part of her brain was telling her that "Men like this shouldn't exist, I need to get out of here now" while the rest of her brain was screaming "Shut the fuck up, morality, and go pull his pants down." Outwardly though, no words escaped her slightly parted, glossy, cherry red lips. She was a deer, and he was all headlights. What turned out to not be an eternity since Darren pointed at her, was rather less than ten seconds until the giant simply said, "Well hello there." There was no stutter, nothing held back, his voice echoed in her ears and clit. "H-hi, h-hello," it was Eileen's time to stutter as she smiled and lost herself in his baby blues. Her uncontrolled response to his presence brought a small, sexy, chuckle from deep within him. "Relax, beautiful," he said as he studied her, then slowly turned back towards Darren, both men with smiles still on their faces. "I think I will have that drink, did the Black Label come in yet?" He asked Darren still looking at his teeth. "Indeed it did ma man, what's your vice?" Darren replied. "Three fingers of J. Walker Black, and a dash of water, please, and another for the lady if she wants one." He made absolutely no attempt to reach for his wallet, or pay for his drink. As Darren slowly poured the dark amber liquid into the glass he looked over at Eileen, with a wordless look of 'well?' on his face. Eileen gulped her heart back into her chest and nodded as the glass was placed in front of the giant, "What was his name?" she asked herself, "Did he call him Pro?" Her head was spinning, and she wasn't drunk, not from the booze, anyway. Darren picked up her glass, and napkin, while at the same time he pushed one of the two $20 dollar bills back at her, and stuck the other in his pocket. "Thanks, sweetie," was all he said to her as he began to make her another drink. She had absolutely no idea what to do, until Darren set down a fresh napkin, and her drink, in front of the stool next to Pro. Darren looked at Pro, who was casually staring at the drink in his hand, and her drink on the bar, at the same time. It was like he was fascinated by the color contrast of the two drinks; his drink as tan as his skin and hair, hers as red as her hair, perhaps even the fire inside her. "Holla," said Darren as he walked away toward other customers. "Word," echoed the reply from Pro. They were old friends, she knew it now. A second later Pro looked down at the empty seat next to him, then over at Eileen, rather, into her. "Care to join me?" He asked her, the gorgeous smile back on his face. Eileen almost came again, her panties were ruined, but she pulled herself together enough to say "Mm-hmm," and nod slightly. She felt like a teenager again. Ten years of confidence had suddenly disappeared. He was still standing, facing the bar except for turning his head to watch her walk as Eileen came over to the seat. As tall as she was for a girl, he was still easily a foot taller, since her face only came up to the height of his pecks. When she managed to make it to the stool, she bumped into it, and had the sudden urge to run, she felt out of her league, silly, stupid, unsure. Pro saw it all. He knew he was intimidating her; he did it to most people, but not on purpose. He had to act fast or she was going to bolt, and he knew it. He slowly started to sit down, and as he did, he touched the crease on the inside of her arm, just above her elbow. "Relax, Red," he said to her, the tenor and power in his voice was still there, but he was speaking calmly, slightly hushed. "Why don't you have a seat, and tell me your name?" Eileen slowly released the breath she didn't know she was holding, and slowly sank to the barstool facing him, with her legs squeezed together, and her hands clinging to each other just under her thighs. She did not adjust her skirt; it didn't matter, because she had other things on her mind. The cheeks of her round, firm bottom felt slightly cool against the vinyl seat as the back of her skirt hung in a halo around half of the stool. As she settled into the seat his hand slowly slid from her arm to the top of her knee - she watched it move and felt static shocks throughout her body, causing her to part her legs ever so slightly. His hand was larger than her knee. She could feel his fingers slowly tickling the top of her calf. "E-Eileen, my name is Eileen Patterson," she said as she finally moved her gaze away from her own knee, towards his face, stopping at his crotch along the way. "My god just look at him," she thought, "no matter what I have to call my mother tomorrow." Real Men Still Exist "Well, Eileen Patterson, it's an absolute pleasure to meet you," he turned towards her, his left knee bumping her left knee, causing her to jump. With his left hand still on her right knee, he extended his right hand towards her. "My name is Prometheus Annamopolis." Eileen cocked her head to the side, echoing the ditzy cheerleader move he had made earlier. "Really?" she questioned, not believing that such a name could exist. Her quizzical head move made his manhood jump in his pants. "This girl is an absolute stunner," he said to himself on the inside, while replying, "Yes, ma'am, I've had it since I was born," to her on the outside. It was a bad joke, he knew it, but Eileen giggled anyway, and grasp his hand to shake it. It was easily three times the size of her own. "Nice to meet you too," she replied, still giggling from the bad joke, or maybe it was seeing his pants jump. Either one worked for her, as long as it was from this man. Eileen felt herself blushing as the fire inside of her was now trying to escape. At this distance she was catching wisps of his smell. He smelled like clean and warm with the slightest hint of tobacco. His nails were clean and cut, not bitten, and his hands were rough enough to belong to a working man. "So what is a spectacular beauty - such as yourself - doing all alone at a dance club on a Friday night?" He could smell her juices, and her soft perfume, before he realized what he was doing he had closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose. Prometheus could smell strawberries and evergreens. When his eyes opened, she was looking at him, smiling with perfect teeth. Busted, he grabbed his drink and took a slow sip, swishing the liquid gold in his mouth with his tongue. Eileen didn't miss a beat, though; he had calmed her quite a bit, like a snake charmer. His fingers were still idly stroking her knee and calf. "My friend ditched me a little while ago, even though it's my first night out in a long time, and she begged me to come." "Begged me to come" echoed in his brain, and his pants felt tighter, but he replied. "So she found a man, and then ran off on you?" His smile was spectacular. "Boy, or boys," she replied sarcastically, her amber eyes casually rolling around in mock cynicism. "Ahh," the sound seemed to come from the bottom of his chest. Vibrations, followed by shivers, ran through her body, while his hand slowly moved to the middle of her thigh. "That explains a lot, actually, quite a lot..." He trailed off, a far away stare in his eyes for a moment. Eileen gasp slightly as her fire fought for control of her body. The sound brought Prometheus's gaze back to her angelic face, along with his sexy grin. "So why have you not been out in a while, everyone needs a little fun time. You at least went dancing before she went and vanished, right?" His brain was trying to concentrate on her reply, but his little head was winning the battle. Her skin was perfect, soft like cotton, and the color to match; his darker hand almost looked ethnic against her thigh. Her breasts had a perfect shape under the tight white shirt, like they were made for hands like his. He could see her buttons fighting to hold the shirt closed. Her bra was barely showing through the shirt, it looked red, but he couldn't be sure. "We did go dancing for a bit, it was fun until the boys got touchy," Prometheus could be in love with her smile alone. "I, uh, work a lot, so..." Eileen actually didn't think he cared. If he only wanted to fuck her, that was just fine, so she didn't go for the details. Her morals had lost long ago. "His hand is driving me crazy!" she screamed internally to herself as she parted her legs bit by bit to his ministrations. "Please touch my pussy, please touch my pussy," soon became her mantra to herself. Her agitation was not lost on Prometheus. He saw it, he was going to touch her mound soon, but in true snake charmer fashion, he took his time - plus he was genuinely interested. He could tell she was perceptive, but what set him off was how out of place she was. "So what do you do?" he asked as his hand crept closer to the prize. He was definitely hard and still growing as his member worked its way up his left leg. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this turned on. He used his fingers like a guitar player on her leg, wiggling them in series, but only once, while at the same time picking up his drink and sipping some more. Eileen was about to speak, but his fingers made her squeal out loud, and her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes went wide as she looked around, but only Darren was looking at her. Darren winked at her and went back to work. The DJ's hot streak had absorbed everyone else's attention. "I-I'm a legal assistant," she began a moment later, as her hand slid on top of his, "I'm sort of t-trying to become a lawyer," their collective hands had reached the hem of her skirt. "Time to go for broke," Prometheus thought to himself. "Trying to become?" was all he said as he slid both his, and her, hands together under her skirt. When their hands disappeared under, she slid hers up his arm, under the cuff of his left sleeve, and encircled his forearm, gripping it tightly. Her mind thought of steel as she squeezed, and when his hand reached the spot where her panties met the top of her thigh, she let out a long slow soft moan. She had come twice, now, and he hadn't touched her button. "My, my, you seem excited," he stated as his middle finger nail traced her panty covered outer lips from bottom to top. The material was so wet, for a second he thought she wasn't wearing any underwear. "Maybe we'll have to finish this conversation tomorrow night, over dinner, perhaps?" Prometheus could feel her hand trying to pull his wrist closer, and he could see her muscles tighten, but he waited patiently for an answer. Eileen's eyes snapped open when the question finally pierced through her lust crazed brain. "Dinner, ok, yes, ok," she needed to fuck him now, to hell with dinner, breakfast sounded better, or cock and sweet release until dinner tomorrow. Whatever he wanted as long as she got what she wanted. In her whole life she never felt more alive, she had to stop this torture, now. She was humping towards his hand, and he was resisting. "Maybe he wants to dance, maybe he wants to wait, please no," she thought, "it has been too long." Finally, she spoke up, with a pleading, confused look still on her face, "Do you want to dance or s-something?" Her gaze dropped to his crotch, her hand still trying to pull his arm forward and failing miserably. She involuntarily licked her lips. "Since you've wanted to fuck me since I walked in here, Eileen Patterson, why don't you give me your phone number, then I'll take care of that fire you've got there. We can dance another time." His right hand pulled the pen from his pocket and clicked it, while at the same time he slid two fingers past her panties and into her soaked opening. Prometheus never broke eye contact, even after she shut her eyes, and screamed at her third orgasm. It had hit her harder than either of them had expected, this fiery redhead could have put a banshee to shame. People were definitely looking now. Before she could have a chance to be embarrassed she was giving him her phone number. He scrawled it onto a napkin, shoved both it, and the pen, into his pocket, and stood, hand still in her pussy, playing it perfectly. His loud whistle snapped her eyes open once again and she saw him nod to the smiling Darren, who returned in a mock salute. Prometheus downed the last half of his drink in one gulp and scooped Eileen off of the stool and out the nearby side door that exited towards the parking lot. As Darren walked over to clear the bar, he couldn't help but laugh at the puddle on the chair. "Son of a bitch" he said aloud as he grabbed the spray bottle to clean off the chair. "For a bastard who's been celibate for two years, he sure hasn't lost his touch." *** The pair were twenty feet out of the door when she heard the chirp of his auto alarm. Prometheus's hand was palming her ass and squeezing while still rubbing her lips from underneath as they walked. His car was parked in the farthest corner of the lot, all by itself, and there were no lights nearby. Eileen suddenly became very worried. "Please don't be a serial killer..." She muttered aloud before she could stop herself. At this point though, she didn't care as long as she got fucked. It seemed like a fair trade for this much man. He started laughing when he heard her mutterings, it was musical, and instantly set her at ease. "Don't worry, Red, I just like to avoid dents from drunken idiots, and theft." When they were a few feet away from the vehicle, he released her and walked towards the driver's door, leaving her at the back. Eileen was confused; she thought he was going to open her door for her... Then the lights came on, all around the car, that cheesy neon lighting the kids use, except, no kid had this. The light was dark purple, just enough light to see. She ran her finger over the emblem of the car, she knew it, her boss had one, but not quite this nice. "You have an Aston Martin?" Eileen asked, she honestly couldn't believe it. "Seriously, what do you do?" "Oh, now who wants to ask the questions?" Prometheus was laughing as he took off his shirt and tossed it on the top of the car. It was then she became aware: He was going to do her here, leaning against his car. Once his shirt was off, though, any inhibition she had were gone in an instant, and her cunt began dripping down her legs. Eileen had never seen an eight pack, in magazines maybe, or on TV, but never this close. "Oh my..." was all she could mutter before she was licking his abs like a cheap porn slut. Up close she could see the muscles on his muscles; he had what looked like paragraphs of writing in tattoo form, on his ribs, both sides, from his pectorals all the way down past his sexy squared hips. She felt his fingers running through her hair as she wondered how far down the writing went. "That was my club we just left, I own a few," he made a small grumble from his core as she licked, causing her tongue to vibrate. Somehow in her lust filled brain, she realized her mother knew what she was talking about. "Where have you been all my life?" She asked him as she leaned against the trunk of his car and began unbuttoning her shirt. Prometheus was right, her brassiere was red, he just couldn't figure out how she got those melons into it. "Mysteries of the universe," he thought. "I'm pretty sure I was looking for you..." That was the last thing he said before leaning into her for a kiss. Their tongues danced and caressed as his hands slid over her bra clad bust. Her breasts fit his hand like they were custom tailored, he had to free them. One hand found her ass and womanhood once again, hooking her panties and dragging them down her legs while the other hand simultaneously unclipped her bra. He left her skirt as the sole piece of clothing on her body, save her three inch heels. "Well aren't you a smoothie," Eileen whispered as he broke the kiss and stood slightly back. He was drinking her in, and she loved it. She grabbed the hem of her skirt and slowly lifted it in a mock tease, proving her red hair to be natural, the curly landing strip shown on her alabaster skin, even in the dim lighting. "No shit... real... no way..." was all blurted as he looked at her, he was frozen, mouth agape, she was easily the most beautiful girl that had ever offered herself to him, and she had done it before she knew he had money. He was in love, and awestruck. He had forgotten what he was doing and where he was, the vision of her blinding, that is, until she started giggling and undoing his belt. He wasn't the only one with his eyes on the prize. She had his pants and boxers around his ankles so fast that his underside whacked her on the top of the head. She knew he was big, but this was beyond her imagining. She had thought he would be totally proportionate, but this... His thighs were made of steel as she ran her hand along them to his butt, while licking the entire underside of his prick in the same upward motion. His tattoos stopped mid thigh. "Mmmm... king size," she cooed as she grabbed the base of the shaft, and began licking the precum out of the slit. "This must be what it's like to win the lottery," she thought to herself, the fingers short of touching themselves, the head engulfed in her mouth. Eileen began sucking hard, bit by bit; making whimpering sounds, until three quarters of his dick was gone in her hot mouth. She gagged slightly, but championed on. "Oh wow," was all Prometheus could muster as the redhead began to slide her mouth, and talented tongue, up and down most of his rod, moving her hand in the opposite direction. His hands flew to the trunk of his car, purely for support. He watched her free hand tickle his sack for a moment before moving straight to her cunt. She had two fingers pumping in and out at pace with her mouth. He was going to cum, too long without this kind of stimulation, he was strong, but this was something else. "This must be what it's like to win the lottery" he thought to himself. "Eileen, you're too good at this, I'm going to cum..." She popped her mouth off his dick and looked up at him, still stroking her aching sex and his solid tool. "What? You're not gonna fuck me?" She was pouting and it was the single hottest thing he had ever seen in his life. "Oh, I am going to fuck you until you pass out, here, against my car," he said to her while she was still hand pumping his shining piece, "but first I want to fill up that sweet mouth of yours." That was what she needed to hear, and she went back to sucking with a vengeance. Eileen felt the cock swell in her mouth, his breathing was becoming ragged, and his grumble was coming from a deeper place - now she knew he was close. She pulled off of his manhood long enough to say "Give it to me, show me how much you got," quiet and huskily before going back to work. She didn't have to wait long, as her words set him off with a roar. And roar he did. Two years of pent up seed flowed from his body. His knees went weak, and he forgot where he was. The sound made Eileen's brain move in her skull from vibration. Shot, after shot, after shot filled Eileen's mouth, overflowing it after the second one. She came mutually from shoving two fingers as deep as she could into herself, it would be the first, but not the last thing shared between them. His seed was spilling down her chin, all over her perfect breast, and her flat stomach. She came again from the thought of it, making her dizzy. She would have fallen over if her sculpted fanny had not been on the rear bumper. She came back to reality first, looking up at his heavy breathing. His muscles were slowly relaxing, and his breathing was slowing, but his member stayed rock hard, pulsing with his heartbeat. It had no signs of losing its life. Whenever she thought of him from this point on, this is what she saw. "My, my, aren't you a real man," she was staring at his cock now, watching it flex, when he suddenly lifted her up and shoved his tongue in her mouth. Her feet weren't touching the ground anymore. While kissing her, he gently set her flawless rump onto the trunk of his car. His tip was level with her opening. He broke the kiss and looked at her sex; he swore it winked at him. "We'll see if we can avoid these later, but for now, safety first," he said as he rolled the condom onto his pole. She giggled at his comment, then began laughing out loud when she thought of something. "Magnum?" She said it as best she could through the laughter, as she felt his finger lift her chin to meet his gaze. His eyes were sparkling as he winked at her and began rubbing his head against her swollen lips. "You make me feel like a teenager again...lovely man," she looked down at his massive erection one last time before saying, "Just go slowly at first, please." "As you wish." That was all he said as the head slipped past, sure the line was stolen, but it worked. He felt her tightness go vise-like as he inched into her. She really was on fire, good thing he had an extinguisher. He was half way in when he felt her hand on his chest, pushing lightly, he watched her mouth hang open slightly, and her eyes looked like mirrors. He slowly began to pull out. "Holy fuckstick!" she screamed as he began to slide back into her. She was already coming. He saw the drool trickling from the corner of her mouth and held still until she recovered. He saw her hand fly to her clit for a moment, then down to the unstuffed remainder of his shaft, just under halfway. Prometheus was looking down at her face, waiting patiently, when she looked up at him, she couldn't help but smile, he looked worried. "Don't worry, I'm ok," she said to him sweetly, relief settling on his face. "I want it all," she said, quite sternly. "All of it." He looked down at her, finally understanding the term 'vixen' as he slowly moved his hands to her perfect nipples and pliable flesh. "Are you sure?" He had tilted his head again, looking at her quizzically, as if he could not believe it. "You are an amazing man," she was stroking the side of his face lovingly, "but I want you to just worry about getting that thing in me." "All of it!" " Now!" Her heels dug into his ass as she thought "This man is made of metal." She stopped thinking shortly after her command, though, as he did as he was told. Once again, all he said was "As you wish," feeding his wood back into her bit by bit. He wasn't all the way in before she started grunting and milking his shaft with her muscles. Her ass was wriggling all over the trunk as she kept repeating "more, more, more... give me more," even after he bottomed out on her cervix, only a small bit of his shaft left outside. He pulled out slightly, bumping her cervix a second time, she winced, but before he could stop, she pressed his ass and grabbed his hips, willing him forward. Suddenly the resistance was gone, and he was all the way in. He chuckled as he realized Eileen had passed out. "I always try to be a man of my word," he said aloud, to no one in particular. Slowly, gently, he began tiny thrusts in, then out, a little more each time, building towards a full length thrust. Her eyes flung open, looking right at him, then down at her pussy stretched to capacity, his thumb slowly working her clit. "Not a dream..." was heard before and as she moaned, long and loud. He stopped rubbing her clit, and pulled out until all but the tip remained. She suddenly felt empty and looked up at him. "Are you ready Eileen Patterson?" His grin was ear to ear. She nodded and he rammed it home like genetics had built him to do. With each successive thrust her ass lifted higher and higher off the trunk, her legs still around his waist. About a minute into his full power she started to drool again. She saw stars, only the slight dull ache of an unused woman plagued her, but that quickly changed to a new sensation she had never felt before. She was full of more man than she knew she could take, and she loved it. He was ruining her for any other man. His hands had fallen to her waist, and her hands had risen to her breasts, pulling her nipples as hard as she could stand. Her orgasm was constant, one long never ending orgasm with smaller ones accentuating it. They both lost concept of time, location, space, it was only his big dick, and her tiny pussy. It was all that mattered to them. When Eileen's eyes rolled into her head, and she began to make a gargling sound, that was all it took for Prometheus, he had never seen such a thing, and it set him off. Real Men Still Exist He didn't trust this condom, not with the load he had for her. He would worry about those conversations later. Right now, he wanted to shower this beauty in every drop of sperm he had left. He could always fill her up later. "Here... it.... Cooooooomes," he pulled out at "it" and shot a load bigger than the first one, all over every part of her above the waist. It didn't seem possible, plausible, nor feasible. It was as if a full bucket was dropped on her. He had not even noticed she was stroking his shaft with two hands - he thought he was doing it himself - but his hands were still firmly planted on her sexy hips. He leaned in and kissed her, Eileen kissed him back harder than she ever kissed anyone. She was in love, but she'd worry about that later. He was still hard as a rock. He could tell she needed a break, but waited for her to let go of his piece, not in any particular rush. The poor girl was a mess, her hair was everywhere, sperm from her forehead to the hem of her skirt, and she couldn't have looked happier. Her eyes were glowing and dreamy. Slowly Prometheus picked her up and set her heels to the ground, then pulled up his pants, tucking his erection down a leg. Off in the distance they could hear both applause and laughter. The trunk of his car looked like it had been in a rainstorm, with almost every fluid two people could make. He could only smile, his hand was still around her waist. Eileen was scooping his cum off her face and licking it off her fingers. He never wanted to let her go, but he had to, at least temporarily. He popped the trunk with the keyfob and handed her a towel from inside. While the trunk was still open, she pulled off what was left of Jenna's skirt, gathered her clothes, and tossed them in. Standing in only high heels, with her purse, she closed the trunk and smeared their fluids around on the car, with the towel, in an attempt to clean it up. "Don't worry, Red," he laughed as he patted her firm bum, "I'll have it detailed at the body shop." She was smiling at him, and his pet name. "You wouldn't happen to be able to cook, would you?" He asked her directly, with no other agenda past yes or no. "Absolutely, handsome, why don't you take me home and I'll show you." "Absolutely," was his reply as they sat on the cool, plush leather seats, him shirtless, her naked.