PaulX35
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Oct 21, 2002
- Posts
- 331
This is a story not yet posted here, as it's still somewhat draft-ish. It's a re-write of something older, and I keep wondering if the idea would appeal at all to others. To me it does, but that's because of elements of autobiographic nature 
Let me know a few impressions please? It's the first time I used an "I-perspective", so comments on that would be especially welcome, as would the usual corrections on my English (forgive a non-native speaker).
Depending on the judgement of this respected forum I'll then decide wether or not to post it for posterity.
Paul
Pinball Wizard
The last of the Thursday night guests took his time to find the door. The last except for me. Gus Dewey was a regular, with an irregular drinking pattern. He had hit the booze hard tonight, making him drift about on his way out. Home, if you could call it that.
Karen was cleaning up the bar, ostentatiously lifting my last glass of beer.
“I’ll be finished in a moment, okay?”
“Take your time,” she replied.
It did sound like she meant it, which was important to me. I knew she had just dumped her boy friend; we had even talked about it this evening. Not for too long, though. More the way matters of life and love were discussed at the bar, shallow and opinionated. She hadn’t really attempted to uphold regret or sadness, which was good. I had an eye on Karen. The eye of a one night stand, but still.
Some say people always look a bit like the dog they own. Karen didn’t have a dog, but she studied Spanish. Stupid parallel, but I remember it crossed my mind when I sat there, looking at her. Karen did look Spanish, but there wasn’t a trace of Iberian blood in her pedigree. Every time she looked back, I had to notice her slight squinting too. I found it damn sexy. And it was not the only thing sexy about Karen.
“One more for the road?” I inquired.
She smiled at me, a disarming cross-eyed smile.
“Heck, why not. I have the day off tomorrow. A beer?”
I nodded.
“It’s on the house, but only because I already cashed up,” she said, as she put the beer in front of me.
“You sure know how to make a guy feel honored.”
“Yeah, I keep hearing that. Surprizing, not?”
I grinned from behind the last sip of my penultimate beer, seeing her pour herself a whisky. She raised the glass and looked at me.
“To Gus making it home?”
“Yeah, he’s gonna need it,” I replied.
Karen chuckled, unaware of the seduction of her pose. No doubt this was my own interpretation of a woman just standing, but she did look stunning in those tight jeans, fancy pumps and that black t-shirt cladding nicely around her chest. I observed her, just enough to let her be aware of it.
“Did you already check out the new pinball machine?” she asked.
Karen knew I was hooked on the damn things. So was she, by the way.
“Just a few games, but I haven’t really sorted it out.”
“Me neither. It reminds me of the one we had here last summer, just more modern,” she replied.
I grabbed into my pocket, looking for some small change.
“Wanna try it out now?”
She lifted an eyebrow. We were fierce competitors for the highest score of the house.
“There’s a few beers on your tab tonight. Are you sure you can still beat me?” The obvious tease in her eyes made the squinting even more attractive.
“Well, Karen, if I’m still sober enough I can, and if I’m not, I’ll probably not admit it,” I replied.
My own astuteness surprized me; there were a few drinks on the tab, alright. I saw her laugh, moving over from behind the bar.
“You’ve got enough change?”
I counted what was in my hand.
“Just enough for a game,” I said, smiling.
“You’re on then,” she replied. “Let me just close the curtains. It’s after closing time.”
The high heels made her butt wiggle nicely as she walked. They also pushed her chest out, which offered a nice look at her pretty tits. Firm young breasts, a tad too round to be called perky, but firm enough to make me look if she was wearing a bra every time I saw her. Tonight she wasn’t, I was almost sure. As I scanned her tits, I wondered if it would ever get me caught. Some habits were hard to control for a man. Looking at women’s breasts too often was one of mine.
I inserted the coins and set the machine to a game for two. The first ball rolled in position. As Karen came walking back, she saw me ready to start. Quickly, she sneaked in front of me, pushing herself between the machine and me.
“I always start,” she said, sniggering.
I looked over her shoulder, remaining close behind her. She didn’t seem to mind. Karen was not a flirt, but neither did she object the patting and touching that comes with working in a bar and not being ugly. Although this was a bit closer than Gus Dewey’s approaches.
“Damn,” she exclaimed. “Did you see that ball coming down!?”
I did. That sure was a nasty hole to land in. It’d require instant reflexes to save it from catapulting straight down between the flippers. I wasn’t sure I still had them, but it was my turn. She gave me another subtly cross-eyed smile as she moved away to stand behind me. I felt her hands on my shoulder as she tried to look over them. Me being taller, that was not the best way to ensure a good look at my game. It must mean something, I thought, as my ball ricocheted back up. Either she liked it, or she was trying to disturb my concentration. I held her capable to come up with either.
“Just over 25,000,” I commented as I saw my ball disappear the same way hers had. “Not a lot, but more than your score.”
“It’s a five ball game,” she replied, sneaking back in front of me.
As she did, I thought for a moment she was brushing that tight butt of hers against my crotch. I had heard of sexual harassment accusations. Great thing, of course, but it wasn’t doing much good to a man’s sexual intuition. Mine in particular, or was it the beer? I wasn’t sure if she had done it on purpose.
I felt her step back, pushing her butt out trying to keep her ball in the game. She didn’t move away, though. Her butt was rubbing against my crotch. I leaned over her shoulders, following the ball. I could smell her closeness, her long black hair, her neck. Slowly, I grinded back in response, almost as a test.
Karen squealed.
“Shit, again! I hate this machine!”
For a second, I thought that squeal was meant for me. But it was just ball number two letting her down. She went to stand behind me again.
It’s a great moment for a man to discover his suspicions were right, probably a lot more than it is for a woman. I doubt everything I sense; I feel I can’t rely on it. Women have often told me how different that is for them. I don’t think I ever really grasped it, in its essence. But the moment Karen softly pressed against me did help to confirm my instincts. I pushed out a little, feeling her sway behind me, both her hands on my shoulders now. I loved the erotic tension, of being in this game with her while subtle seducing started.
I lost the ball much too soon, making the score about even again. Karen smiled, obviously pleased with that run of events, and slipped in front of me once more. This time it was hard not to notice. She almost pressed back against me, clearly rubbing against my crotch. When I placed my hands on her waist, she wiggled. As ball number three launched, I let my hands sneak underneath her t-shirt. Not a word was spoken, the soft wiggling of her body was her silent consent. I felt her body move as she played turn three, my hands sliding up the soft skin of her waist. No bra, I was right. Karen pushed back, grinding her butt into my crotch, her fingers hitting the flippers. Her breasts felt firm, just like I had imagined. I could feel her push them out into my hands as she played the pinball machine with energy.
My erection bulged inside my jeans as I looked over her shoulder. I made her feel my hard on. She was doing a good score this turn, and her jeans rubbed against me with a thrilling lack of shame. I had always imagined her to be like that; disarming smile but with an enterprizing touch. Pity I could see that sexy squinted look of hers. I’m sure if would have made my hard on even bigger.
This time Karen didn’t comment as her turn ended. The score had put her in the lead. As I moved on for my third ball, I felt her hands slide down my waist. I wiggled a little too, playing the game of wordless seduction. The moment I launched my ball, I felt her flip the button of my Levi’s. Agile fingers unzipped me as I tried to concentrate on saving my game. I needed a good ball now. She grinded full against me as she sneaked behind the waistband of my boxers. Her long nails raked over my shaft, making me throb even harder. I simply had to gasp as she suddenly grabbed full into my cock, tightening her hand around it. I hit the flippers violently.
I was glad she had closed the curtains. Seeing a bar-maid jerk a guy off after closing time wouldn’t incline the average cop to be lenient. I gasped again. Fuck, she was really jerking me off now. I tried to keep my eyes on the ball, not with great success. I was about 15,000 down on Karen when the ball speeded straight between my flippers. End of turn three.
She let go of my cock almost carelessly, slipping behind the machine again. My hands grabbed her with hunger, even before she had had the chance to start the fourth turn. Her Wrangler’s opened just as easily, and she pushed into my hand as it sneaked into her jeans, behind her panties. Her skin was awfully soft there, as was the short trimmed hair on her pussy. I heard her gasp too, as my fingertip teased her clit. My bare cock pushed against the fabric of her pants, and she welcomed me. I pulled her jeans down a little, taking her panties along. Her scents filled the bar as I cupped her glowing cunt. I watched her fingers at the flippers, destined to keep the ball in play. Hmm, she was wet already, nicely wet. My finger smoothed into her as I let it tease her clitty. Her grinding became harder, she pushed her slit into my touch, tilting her pelvis as she kept her eyes on the ball. She was 43,000 up on me when she lost the ball.
We changed position again, without saying a word. I felt my jeans being yanked down, half-way my things as I started my turn four. Her hand grabbed with bold hunger; there was three balls in the game now. My boxers were down as well, and she squeezed gently into my scrotum, a fingernail raking over the wrinkly skin now and then. I swayed my lower body, shamelessly hard from her touch. The strong scents of my cock mixed with hers. Karen started to jerk me off again, pulling the foreskin all the way back. Her hands felt lusty, holding my hard prick, driving it to almost painful hardness. I gasped again from another hard jerk. She could make me cum before the end of the game, I realized. My ball jumped up, hitting the glass with a sharp tick. Her hand clenched, squeezing hard into my erection. The machine rattled as my ball was caught between two springs. It got me past her score, but only just. Then the ball catapulted into the wrong port.
My hands squeezed into her firm buttocks as Karen went for her last ball. She wriggled, almost shivering when I rubbed my cock against her bare butt, feeling the glowing shaft slide over her cool skin. I moved between her thighs again, grabbing her with lust. I could feel her flinch for a moment, but her cunt bucked forward, hungry for my fingers. She was very wet now, and moving her lower body in a rhythm, grinding against my cock, and riding on my fingers. The pinball rattled, jumped out of a bonus-hole, putting her in the lead again. I flicked her clit, not hard, but she gasped out, trembling. Then I circled the fingertip around it, feeling her ride it. Her hips undulated, seeking her arousal as my finger moved faster. Her own fingers pushed the flippers hard, launching her ball back into the game. Grunting escaped from deep down her throat as my finger moved faster. Her pelvis bucked with lust, her scents permeated the room as her breathing turned to panting. Squirms, lustful bucks, loud groans as she frantically tried to concentrate on her last ball. It rattled again, faster and faster, as if caught between two ports. The machine flickered as it added the scores. Her hips shuddered as a deep growl resounded in the bar. She still tried to finish the game, even when she could no longer withhold her orgasm. My last frantic rubs full over her clit made her collapse. Her fingers stopped moving, letting the ball roll past the flippers as she exploded in a raw gasp, her cunt violently trembling as it started convulsing. Her panting was heavy, making her need a break before it was my last turn. She was 72,000 up, and determined to get her erotic revenge.
I didn’t even get the chance to properly position in front of the pinball machine. Both her hands grabbed into my crotch, one squeezing my balls while the other held my stiff cock in an iron grip. As the ball launched she jerked me hard, making me gasp. Karen was on the verge of hurting me, as she was determined to make me cum before I’d have the chance to beat her score. Her hands were expert, fuck she was good at this. Her fingernails tickled my balls as she let her other hand jerk. Not too fast, but at a pace she knew men found hard to control. I tried to watch my ball in play, glancing up at the score, 56,000 down still. I slammed the flipper, shooting the ball back up. Yeah, bonus core, 36,000 to go. She saw it, and squeezed even harder into my throbbing hard on. I was biting my lip to control myself. My face must look red with excitement now. Hmm, Jesus, she’s too good, I thought, as she kept jerking me at exactly the pace I couldn’t stand. My ball rattled up in the machine. More bonus. I glanced up, gasping when I felt her devilish hands almost push me over the limit. Only 18,000 to go, I was doing well. And Karen didn’t want me too. I tried not to make too much noise; it would only make her feel more convinced she was applying the winning touch, for her. God, her hands were good. She was jerking me off as if she knew what it felt like to have a cock. I had to hold my breath now and then, I was so close to shooting all over her hands. Yes, got that ball, back into the game. How much left? Still 8,000, and I was so fucking close to cumming. She jerked faster, looking over my shoulders as she watched the score. Her hands almost loosening the grip, but she knew the effect of that when a man was close. I felt the gush approach in the distance, unable to really stop it anymore now. Fuck, 3,000 only, and I’m losing it. I bit my lip again, unable to close my eyes to accommodate the tension.
The gush kicked in, I saw the ball catapult down. A frantic slam on the flippers, first left, then right. She knew I had to cum now, she could feel it from my scrotum contracting. The hazy glowing feeling swamped in, 1,200, and I couldn’t operate the flippers anymore. I had to close my eyes, hearing a last rattle of my last ball before I heard it shoot out of play. Her last jerk was merciless, and I came all over her hand, gasping out a low guttural sound. She continued the jerking, making me cum painfully hard, and quite unable to play any pinball anymore. I felt my cum spurt out, against the machine, over her hand. It was so intense that I forgot about the game for a moment.
When I opened my eyes again, Karen was standing next to me. Her eyes smiled with the usual sexy squinting.
“I won,” she whispered coyly. “By 1,200 points, but I won.”
I looked at the score, then down at the counter of games left. It showed “1”. I grinned as I looked at the random four-digit number the machine had produced. It was the same as my score.
“And I won myself a free game, it seems,” I replied, sticking out my tongue.
Karen leaned over to kiss me, stroking over my limping cock once more.
“I guess we’ll have to do a raincheck on that one. Time to close.”
That sounded like a good idea.
Ten minutes later I was out in the night, walking my way home. I had found it wiser to leave the car behind. The night was cold, but nicely refreshing. A thing I needed. When I crossed the street a last thought made me grin. I had never before left a bar after first having to wipe my cum off a pinball machine.
Karen’s car honked as it drove by. She was waving at me, with her panties. My laugh resounded in the empty street.
<<< >>>
Let me know a few impressions please? It's the first time I used an "I-perspective", so comments on that would be especially welcome, as would the usual corrections on my English (forgive a non-native speaker).
Depending on the judgement of this respected forum I'll then decide wether or not to post it for posterity.
Paul
Pinball Wizard
The last of the Thursday night guests took his time to find the door. The last except for me. Gus Dewey was a regular, with an irregular drinking pattern. He had hit the booze hard tonight, making him drift about on his way out. Home, if you could call it that.
Karen was cleaning up the bar, ostentatiously lifting my last glass of beer.
“I’ll be finished in a moment, okay?”
“Take your time,” she replied.
It did sound like she meant it, which was important to me. I knew she had just dumped her boy friend; we had even talked about it this evening. Not for too long, though. More the way matters of life and love were discussed at the bar, shallow and opinionated. She hadn’t really attempted to uphold regret or sadness, which was good. I had an eye on Karen. The eye of a one night stand, but still.
Some say people always look a bit like the dog they own. Karen didn’t have a dog, but she studied Spanish. Stupid parallel, but I remember it crossed my mind when I sat there, looking at her. Karen did look Spanish, but there wasn’t a trace of Iberian blood in her pedigree. Every time she looked back, I had to notice her slight squinting too. I found it damn sexy. And it was not the only thing sexy about Karen.
“One more for the road?” I inquired.
She smiled at me, a disarming cross-eyed smile.
“Heck, why not. I have the day off tomorrow. A beer?”
I nodded.
“It’s on the house, but only because I already cashed up,” she said, as she put the beer in front of me.
“You sure know how to make a guy feel honored.”
“Yeah, I keep hearing that. Surprizing, not?”
I grinned from behind the last sip of my penultimate beer, seeing her pour herself a whisky. She raised the glass and looked at me.
“To Gus making it home?”
“Yeah, he’s gonna need it,” I replied.
Karen chuckled, unaware of the seduction of her pose. No doubt this was my own interpretation of a woman just standing, but she did look stunning in those tight jeans, fancy pumps and that black t-shirt cladding nicely around her chest. I observed her, just enough to let her be aware of it.
“Did you already check out the new pinball machine?” she asked.
Karen knew I was hooked on the damn things. So was she, by the way.
“Just a few games, but I haven’t really sorted it out.”
“Me neither. It reminds me of the one we had here last summer, just more modern,” she replied.
I grabbed into my pocket, looking for some small change.
“Wanna try it out now?”
She lifted an eyebrow. We were fierce competitors for the highest score of the house.
“There’s a few beers on your tab tonight. Are you sure you can still beat me?” The obvious tease in her eyes made the squinting even more attractive.
“Well, Karen, if I’m still sober enough I can, and if I’m not, I’ll probably not admit it,” I replied.
My own astuteness surprized me; there were a few drinks on the tab, alright. I saw her laugh, moving over from behind the bar.
“You’ve got enough change?”
I counted what was in my hand.
“Just enough for a game,” I said, smiling.
“You’re on then,” she replied. “Let me just close the curtains. It’s after closing time.”
The high heels made her butt wiggle nicely as she walked. They also pushed her chest out, which offered a nice look at her pretty tits. Firm young breasts, a tad too round to be called perky, but firm enough to make me look if she was wearing a bra every time I saw her. Tonight she wasn’t, I was almost sure. As I scanned her tits, I wondered if it would ever get me caught. Some habits were hard to control for a man. Looking at women’s breasts too often was one of mine.
I inserted the coins and set the machine to a game for two. The first ball rolled in position. As Karen came walking back, she saw me ready to start. Quickly, she sneaked in front of me, pushing herself between the machine and me.
“I always start,” she said, sniggering.
I looked over her shoulder, remaining close behind her. She didn’t seem to mind. Karen was not a flirt, but neither did she object the patting and touching that comes with working in a bar and not being ugly. Although this was a bit closer than Gus Dewey’s approaches.
“Damn,” she exclaimed. “Did you see that ball coming down!?”
I did. That sure was a nasty hole to land in. It’d require instant reflexes to save it from catapulting straight down between the flippers. I wasn’t sure I still had them, but it was my turn. She gave me another subtly cross-eyed smile as she moved away to stand behind me. I felt her hands on my shoulder as she tried to look over them. Me being taller, that was not the best way to ensure a good look at my game. It must mean something, I thought, as my ball ricocheted back up. Either she liked it, or she was trying to disturb my concentration. I held her capable to come up with either.
“Just over 25,000,” I commented as I saw my ball disappear the same way hers had. “Not a lot, but more than your score.”
“It’s a five ball game,” she replied, sneaking back in front of me.
As she did, I thought for a moment she was brushing that tight butt of hers against my crotch. I had heard of sexual harassment accusations. Great thing, of course, but it wasn’t doing much good to a man’s sexual intuition. Mine in particular, or was it the beer? I wasn’t sure if she had done it on purpose.
I felt her step back, pushing her butt out trying to keep her ball in the game. She didn’t move away, though. Her butt was rubbing against my crotch. I leaned over her shoulders, following the ball. I could smell her closeness, her long black hair, her neck. Slowly, I grinded back in response, almost as a test.
Karen squealed.
“Shit, again! I hate this machine!”
For a second, I thought that squeal was meant for me. But it was just ball number two letting her down. She went to stand behind me again.
It’s a great moment for a man to discover his suspicions were right, probably a lot more than it is for a woman. I doubt everything I sense; I feel I can’t rely on it. Women have often told me how different that is for them. I don’t think I ever really grasped it, in its essence. But the moment Karen softly pressed against me did help to confirm my instincts. I pushed out a little, feeling her sway behind me, both her hands on my shoulders now. I loved the erotic tension, of being in this game with her while subtle seducing started.
I lost the ball much too soon, making the score about even again. Karen smiled, obviously pleased with that run of events, and slipped in front of me once more. This time it was hard not to notice. She almost pressed back against me, clearly rubbing against my crotch. When I placed my hands on her waist, she wiggled. As ball number three launched, I let my hands sneak underneath her t-shirt. Not a word was spoken, the soft wiggling of her body was her silent consent. I felt her body move as she played turn three, my hands sliding up the soft skin of her waist. No bra, I was right. Karen pushed back, grinding her butt into my crotch, her fingers hitting the flippers. Her breasts felt firm, just like I had imagined. I could feel her push them out into my hands as she played the pinball machine with energy.
My erection bulged inside my jeans as I looked over her shoulder. I made her feel my hard on. She was doing a good score this turn, and her jeans rubbed against me with a thrilling lack of shame. I had always imagined her to be like that; disarming smile but with an enterprizing touch. Pity I could see that sexy squinted look of hers. I’m sure if would have made my hard on even bigger.
This time Karen didn’t comment as her turn ended. The score had put her in the lead. As I moved on for my third ball, I felt her hands slide down my waist. I wiggled a little too, playing the game of wordless seduction. The moment I launched my ball, I felt her flip the button of my Levi’s. Agile fingers unzipped me as I tried to concentrate on saving my game. I needed a good ball now. She grinded full against me as she sneaked behind the waistband of my boxers. Her long nails raked over my shaft, making me throb even harder. I simply had to gasp as she suddenly grabbed full into my cock, tightening her hand around it. I hit the flippers violently.
I was glad she had closed the curtains. Seeing a bar-maid jerk a guy off after closing time wouldn’t incline the average cop to be lenient. I gasped again. Fuck, she was really jerking me off now. I tried to keep my eyes on the ball, not with great success. I was about 15,000 down on Karen when the ball speeded straight between my flippers. End of turn three.
She let go of my cock almost carelessly, slipping behind the machine again. My hands grabbed her with hunger, even before she had had the chance to start the fourth turn. Her Wrangler’s opened just as easily, and she pushed into my hand as it sneaked into her jeans, behind her panties. Her skin was awfully soft there, as was the short trimmed hair on her pussy. I heard her gasp too, as my fingertip teased her clit. My bare cock pushed against the fabric of her pants, and she welcomed me. I pulled her jeans down a little, taking her panties along. Her scents filled the bar as I cupped her glowing cunt. I watched her fingers at the flippers, destined to keep the ball in play. Hmm, she was wet already, nicely wet. My finger smoothed into her as I let it tease her clitty. Her grinding became harder, she pushed her slit into my touch, tilting her pelvis as she kept her eyes on the ball. She was 43,000 up on me when she lost the ball.
We changed position again, without saying a word. I felt my jeans being yanked down, half-way my things as I started my turn four. Her hand grabbed with bold hunger; there was three balls in the game now. My boxers were down as well, and she squeezed gently into my scrotum, a fingernail raking over the wrinkly skin now and then. I swayed my lower body, shamelessly hard from her touch. The strong scents of my cock mixed with hers. Karen started to jerk me off again, pulling the foreskin all the way back. Her hands felt lusty, holding my hard prick, driving it to almost painful hardness. I gasped again from another hard jerk. She could make me cum before the end of the game, I realized. My ball jumped up, hitting the glass with a sharp tick. Her hand clenched, squeezing hard into my erection. The machine rattled as my ball was caught between two springs. It got me past her score, but only just. Then the ball catapulted into the wrong port.
My hands squeezed into her firm buttocks as Karen went for her last ball. She wriggled, almost shivering when I rubbed my cock against her bare butt, feeling the glowing shaft slide over her cool skin. I moved between her thighs again, grabbing her with lust. I could feel her flinch for a moment, but her cunt bucked forward, hungry for my fingers. She was very wet now, and moving her lower body in a rhythm, grinding against my cock, and riding on my fingers. The pinball rattled, jumped out of a bonus-hole, putting her in the lead again. I flicked her clit, not hard, but she gasped out, trembling. Then I circled the fingertip around it, feeling her ride it. Her hips undulated, seeking her arousal as my finger moved faster. Her own fingers pushed the flippers hard, launching her ball back into the game. Grunting escaped from deep down her throat as my finger moved faster. Her pelvis bucked with lust, her scents permeated the room as her breathing turned to panting. Squirms, lustful bucks, loud groans as she frantically tried to concentrate on her last ball. It rattled again, faster and faster, as if caught between two ports. The machine flickered as it added the scores. Her hips shuddered as a deep growl resounded in the bar. She still tried to finish the game, even when she could no longer withhold her orgasm. My last frantic rubs full over her clit made her collapse. Her fingers stopped moving, letting the ball roll past the flippers as she exploded in a raw gasp, her cunt violently trembling as it started convulsing. Her panting was heavy, making her need a break before it was my last turn. She was 72,000 up, and determined to get her erotic revenge.
I didn’t even get the chance to properly position in front of the pinball machine. Both her hands grabbed into my crotch, one squeezing my balls while the other held my stiff cock in an iron grip. As the ball launched she jerked me hard, making me gasp. Karen was on the verge of hurting me, as she was determined to make me cum before I’d have the chance to beat her score. Her hands were expert, fuck she was good at this. Her fingernails tickled my balls as she let her other hand jerk. Not too fast, but at a pace she knew men found hard to control. I tried to watch my ball in play, glancing up at the score, 56,000 down still. I slammed the flipper, shooting the ball back up. Yeah, bonus core, 36,000 to go. She saw it, and squeezed even harder into my throbbing hard on. I was biting my lip to control myself. My face must look red with excitement now. Hmm, Jesus, she’s too good, I thought, as she kept jerking me at exactly the pace I couldn’t stand. My ball rattled up in the machine. More bonus. I glanced up, gasping when I felt her devilish hands almost push me over the limit. Only 18,000 to go, I was doing well. And Karen didn’t want me too. I tried not to make too much noise; it would only make her feel more convinced she was applying the winning touch, for her. God, her hands were good. She was jerking me off as if she knew what it felt like to have a cock. I had to hold my breath now and then, I was so close to shooting all over her hands. Yes, got that ball, back into the game. How much left? Still 8,000, and I was so fucking close to cumming. She jerked faster, looking over my shoulders as she watched the score. Her hands almost loosening the grip, but she knew the effect of that when a man was close. I felt the gush approach in the distance, unable to really stop it anymore now. Fuck, 3,000 only, and I’m losing it. I bit my lip again, unable to close my eyes to accommodate the tension.
The gush kicked in, I saw the ball catapult down. A frantic slam on the flippers, first left, then right. She knew I had to cum now, she could feel it from my scrotum contracting. The hazy glowing feeling swamped in, 1,200, and I couldn’t operate the flippers anymore. I had to close my eyes, hearing a last rattle of my last ball before I heard it shoot out of play. Her last jerk was merciless, and I came all over her hand, gasping out a low guttural sound. She continued the jerking, making me cum painfully hard, and quite unable to play any pinball anymore. I felt my cum spurt out, against the machine, over her hand. It was so intense that I forgot about the game for a moment.
When I opened my eyes again, Karen was standing next to me. Her eyes smiled with the usual sexy squinting.
“I won,” she whispered coyly. “By 1,200 points, but I won.”
I looked at the score, then down at the counter of games left. It showed “1”. I grinned as I looked at the random four-digit number the machine had produced. It was the same as my score.
“And I won myself a free game, it seems,” I replied, sticking out my tongue.
Karen leaned over to kiss me, stroking over my limping cock once more.
“I guess we’ll have to do a raincheck on that one. Time to close.”
That sounded like a good idea.
Ten minutes later I was out in the night, walking my way home. I had found it wiser to leave the car behind. The night was cold, but nicely refreshing. A thing I needed. When I crossed the street a last thought made me grin. I had never before left a bar after first having to wipe my cum off a pinball machine.
Karen’s car honked as it drove by. She was waving at me, with her panties. My laugh resounded in the empty street.
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