Date night. The perfect man. The perfect outfit. Terrible restaurant.
Candice just wants a fun night out with Brad. He holds doors open for her, touches her gently on the elbow, and pays for the dates. But at Abby’s Restaurant, where the tilapia tastes oddly like cod and wine is served in plastic cups, Candy longs for more with Brad. Much more?
What will it take? A little candy, some condoms, and the age old question: “Your place or mine?”
If you enjoy sexy humorous erotica, be sure to read The Life of Candy.
THE LIFE OF CANDY
“That’s the story of my life,” she said. It wasn’t entirely true, but tonight, in this restaurant, with this man, it certainly felt true enough.
Candice sipped at the Pinot Noir served in a chipped plastic wine glass. She would’ve preferred a Merlot, but the waiter—a short, good natured but completely oblivious man who clearly only worked here for college money—insisted they no longer had anything but Pinot, and one that tasted like bitter sugar water.
So she leaned back in the squeaky wood chair. The cushion was flat from a thousand asses sitting in it, and the armrests felt sticky. She dared not look under the table, for fear of whatever it was she’d kicked around throughout the date.
The lighting was low, presumably for atmosphere, or mood, or some such thing. But in reality, it was probably to make the salmon pink wallpaper less repulsive.
Two different sets of music competed with each other. Light modern pop playing from the loud speaker directly above their table. And the heavy thump-thump-thump of a cover band playing in the sports bar next door. They were trying their best on “Heart Shaped Box,” and sounded more like a hornets’ nest amplified a thousand-fold.
Presumably, Abby’s was a nice restaurant, at least according to people who maybe hadn’t actually eaten there in the last decade or so. The tilapia tasted oddly like cod, and the baked potatoes were shriveled little bastards. The only good part of the meal was the breadsticks, which were buttery and garlicky, and practically melted in Candy’s mouth. Thankfully, the waiter dude kept bringing those out in large baskets, six sticks at a time. Candy caught the guy eating a few himself, while he thought nobody was looking.
The other good thing about this date was Brad, the man sitting across from her. This was date number three, and he was still acting like a perfect gentleman. Opening doors for her, touching her gently on the elbow while riding the escalators in the mall, and he paid for the entire dates.
Also, he still hadn’t made any moves, beyond sweet good night kisses and hugs. Candy worried that he was secretly gay, or hiding something. Like psychotic tendencies. Or a small penis.
But that was crazy thinking. He was just a nice guy, who wasn’t in a rush to lift her skirt.
Even though she wore the shortest skirt she owned. The tight stretchy black one, with the slit that revealed one well muscled thigh. She wore six inch strappy black heels, which made her legs feel even longer, and made her the same height as Brad. Her gauzy purple blouse revealed more cleavage than she was used to revealing. And with a little help from her bra, her boobs seemed bigger than they had a right to be.
Brad was the tall, dark, and handsome type, in that order. His hair was long enough to be curly in the back. A permanent five o’clock shadow covered his face, which tickled Candy every time he kissed her.
He wore jeans and a black polo shirt, with shiny black dress shoes. Always relaxed, leaning back in his chair, as if his body were made for his clothes, and not the other way around.
He’d given up drinking the Pinot.
But he laughed at all of Candy’s lame jokes, and made more than a few gut ripping punch lines himself.
“Come on, now,” he said. “That’s can’t be entirely true. Can it?”
“It is,” Candy said. “That really is the story of my life.”
And then they both laughed, and reached for the same breadstick at the same time, which caused even more laughter.
She couldn’t even properly remember what brought on this exact conversation. What the fuck was the story of her life? Ending up on good dates in bad places? Having fun where shouldn’t be any fun?
All three of her dates with Brad should’ve been disasters. The first one was just a normal dinner and a movie date. But the restaurant he’d made reservations for just got closed down that afternoon after a health inspection, and then the movie theater was so full that they waited two hours and were turned away when the tickets were sold out. Instead, Brad and Candy walked along the waterfront, holding hands and throwing pennies into the river.
The second date was supposed to be bowling night, but they had the bad luck of going during the senior citizens’ league night. Every old geezer hit on Candy, including some of the older women.
And then dinner at Abby’s.
Earlier in the week Candy had decided, almost subconsciously, to make a contingency plan, just in case Brad chickened out. The plan involved a bag of Skittles, a TV marathon to catch up on the current crime dramas, and a fresh bottle of lube for her vibrator.
Luckily, Brad didn’t chicken out.
He was a good sport. He pushed the breadstick basket over to her. Candy split the stick in half, took one half, and shoved the other back towards him.
Then they clinked plastic wine glasses in toast.
“Almost hate to ask what you want to do next,” said Brad. “You know, given how your life story seems to be.”
“Hey, now,” Candy said. “It’s not all bad. Mostly the bad stuff happens when I go out.”
“Really? I’ve had a wonderful time.”
“Kiss ass.” Candy chewed on some breadstick. It wasn’t as good as it was earlier. Less hot, not as garlicky. Brad seemed to agree, he put his down after one bite.
“So,” he said. “If the bad luck only happens when you go out, maybe we should stay in?”
Now that was an idea. Candy had thought of that several times during the week leading up to her hot date. Well, to be honest, she mostly thought about that while using her vibrator. Which was why she needed a new bottle of lube.
Candy winked. “Your place or mine?”
Brad scratched the stubble on his chin and raised one eyebrow, which made her laugh. “My place has room mates,” he said. “And they have girlfriends who might be having the same idea.”
“Which idea is that?”
“The idea you’re having, of course.” He winked.
And then, Candy let the silence turn awkward. She let it hang there for a moment longer than necessary. Brad squirmed. He shifted in his chair, and looked down at his half eaten breadstick.
Candy burst out laughing. She winked at him. The hard edge—that oops, what-did-I-do-wrong look in his face—softened, and he laughed too.
“My place,” Candy said at last. For good measure, she picked up the breadstick and kissed the tip softly. “Unless you’re not having the same idea.”
He squirmed again, this time in a more playful way. As if he were adjusting his equipment inside his pants. “I’m having some wonderful ideas,” he said.
“Good,” she said.
Brad got his wallet out. She reached across the table and smacked his hand.
“I’m paying this time,” Candy said. “You go to my place, you play by my rules.”
“Okay,” said Brad. “Any other rules I should know about?”
Candy smiled. She got out her credit card and tapped it on the table. “Nobody gets hurt. Ask permission for anything weird. Listen to instruction. Think you can handle that?”
He placed a hand on his chest. “I can do that.”
“Good.” Candy handed the card to the waiter dude. “By the way, the rules are more like guidelines. But the listening thing is rather important.”
“As long as it goes both ways,” he said.
“Yes!” she said. “But really. My vibrator is an excellent listener. Just so you know how you’re being judged.”
She paid. Then they left hand in hand. Candy couldn’t keep her eyes off him.
Then, at her car, he kissed her. She gave him her address and promised to meet him there.
The drive home was far too long. She could barely drive straight, her hands shook so hard.
She didn’t even make it home.
Brad texted her along the way. “Need condoms,” he wrote. She noticed him pull into a convenience store at the corner. She turned around and parked her car next to his.
He seemed pleasantly surprised when he noticed her walk through the door.
“Not a lot of selection,” he said, shaking his head. “Hope ribbed is okay with you.”
“Fine by me,” she leaned against him, and kissed him. The tip of her left breast poked at his arm.
Brad turned a little, rubbing her nipple with his arm very slowly. Then he casually flicked a finger across her breast. Just a light touch, as if he didn’t even do it at all.
“How much further to your place?” he said. “I don’t know if I can stand the wait much longer.”
“Well don’t explode before we get there,” she said. “I’d hate to clean up after you here.”
An elderly couple appeared at the end of the aisle. The old man shook his head and walked the other way. The old woman winked knowingly and chased off after her husband.
“Think that was a tad obvious?” Brad whispered.
Candy pressed her thumb and forefinger together. She whispered back, “Just a tad.”
They both laughed. This really was Candy’s luck. But at least it wasn’t all bad luck. Strange luck, more like it.
An idea popped into her brain. She suddenly wanted to test her luck. Good or bad, this was going to be fun. She grabbed Brad by the arm and led him to the back of the store, to the women’s bathroom.
“Wait,” Brad said. She didn’t wait. He turned a cute shade of pink around his ears. “Where are we going?”
She didn’t give him the benefit of an answer. She peeped a quick glance over her shoulder and stepped inside.
“Hello,” she said. When nobody responded, Candy dragged Brad inside. And then she pushed him inside the handicap stall and locked the door behind her.
“Can’t say I saw this coming,” he said.
She squatted down on her haunches in front of him. “Do you approve?”
“No,” he said.
“Oh. Sorry.” Well, that was disappointing. She stood up, trying not to let the disappointment show too obviously on her face. Her luck certainly ran out this time.
She turned to unlock the stall door. But he grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around.
“I didn’t say I completely disapprove,” he said. “I just don’t completely approve of you going down on me here.”
“We can finish this at my place,” she said. “If you’re still interested, of course.”
And then he squatted down in front of her, hands on her pelvis. “Oh, we’ll finish at your place. But while we’re in the ladies’ room, it will be ladies first.”
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, my.”
He lifted her skirt up and pulled her panties down in two swift motions. The air in the bathroom was a bit colder than she expected. Didn’t help that her pussy was clean shaved. Usually she let it grow out, and maybe trimmed it now and then to keep the stink down.
But before the date tonight, Candy had been feeling frisky. She was now glad she spent the time to shave herself.
He rubbed his fingers across her bare thighs. And then closer to her pussy. Two fingers on her lips, and spread her apart for a moment. The motion was mechanical, not quite what she wanted, but he was attentive to her reactions.
“Too soon for this?” he said.
She shrugged one shoulder. “I want it. But yeah, this idea might’ve fizzled.”
“How can we unfizzle it?” he said. “Is that even a word?”
Candy snorted. “Sure. It is now.”
She rubbed her clit with one finger, slowly, as if she were masturbating at home. Still wasn’t doing anything for her. Not yet. Usually a porno and a toy would do the trick. When she was by herself. But she certainly wasn’t this time.
Brad kissed her thigh, and then stood up. Hands around her waist, he pulled her in for a kiss on the lips. A slow, sensual kiss, with slow tongue movement. He pressed her against the stall door, making the walls rattle. He tugged at her blouse, as if wanting to expose her breasts. She wanted him to. Hoped he would. He even found her bra strap, and tugged it down.
Then he kissed her shoulder, and set the bra strap back where it belonged. That little act of denial made Candy’s skin tingle with heat. She flicked her clit faster.
Brad skimmed his lips down her chest, and lingered between her cleavage. His warm breath against her skin felt good. Felt right, as if his head were made to lay between her breasts like.
He squeezed each one, and then licked them both. So very close to her nipples. If he just pulled down her blouse and her bra, he would’ve had them in his mouth. Instead, he inhaled her, and then got down between her legs again. He carefully stuck his tongue out and tasted her pussy.
She was surprised how wonderful that small touch felt. Not earth shaking, by any means. But sweet. Tender.
Then he pressed his mouth onto her pussy and licked her from clit to just below the anus.
Candy pressed her hands on both sides of her face. The bathroom started to smell musky, like wet pussy. He kept massaging her with his tongue, as if licking ice cream. By now he should’ve had a brain freeze. She imagined how light headed he must feel. He gripped both of her thighs to steady himself.
And then, while he massaged her clit with his tongue, he slipped the tip of one finger inside her. The way he slowly ate her drove Candy crazy. Now she couldn’t wait to get to her place, for fear of exploding in the middle of a public place. Instead of cleaning up after him, he’d be cleaning up after her.
And when he slipped more than the tip of his finger in, she almost lost it.
Candy clamped a hand over her mouth. The scream was there, just below the surface, not quite ready to come out. But she wanted to scream.
She imagined a whole lot of people rushing into the bathroom, rushing to aid a screaming woman. And turns out she was screaming in orgasm.
She snorted back a laugh.
Brad pulled away. Her pussy felt cold without his tongue or finger inside her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. She cupped the back of his head and gently forced him back down on her.
He obliged willingly. He continued nibbling at her and fingering her, but more carefully this time, as if she were fragile. She leaned her head against the wall, wishing he’d do what he’d been doing before her snort.
Absent mindedly, Candy pressed a finger against her clit and rubbed while he finger fucked her. She closed her eyes, half aware of what she was doing. Yeah, it wasn’t his doing, but it felt good.
And then he hit her G-spot, right on, and curled his finger against it. Her toes curled and she suppressed another scream.
And then she rubbed herself in the just right way. His finger inside her and her own finger doing some well practiced magic on herself, that combination sent her over the edge.
Her knees buckled, and if he hadn’t been holding her legs upright, she’d have fallen over.
Once she regained her balance, Brad stood up and held her for a moment.
“There’s a lot more I’d like to try with you,” he said, and then kissed her on the mouth. He smelled of her. Kind of a sweet, musty smell. That odor probably wasn’t leaving the bathroom for awhile.
“Oh? Is that so, mister?” she winked at him. And then she pushed him away. “Perhaps we find some place more cozy for what you have in mind?”
“Like your place? Like we meant to do.”
He helped her pull her panties back up, his fingers not quite helping, and ended up bunching her panties in a wad that rode her pussy lips. She straightened her skirt. Not like it mattered. With any more luck, she’d be out of these clothes soon anyway.
That was the plan for sure.
She was home at least, but that plan still hadn’t come to fruition.
Sure, Brad had Candy pressed up against the wall, kissing her, both hands squeezing her boobs. She slid her fingers down his waist and tugged on his belt. Then tugged on something else just below the belt.
But the part of the plan about being out of her crooked clothing was coming about too slowly for her tastes.
She even said so, rather sloppily around kissing.
“Huh?” said Brad.
“Let’s find somewhere more comfortable,” she said.
He eagerly agreed and followed her upstairs to the bedroom. She’d left the bed-side light on earlier, which cast a yellow glow. She tossed her purse on the TV stand, next to the bag of Skittles, her contingency plan that thankfully she didn’t need anymore.
“Taste the rainbow,” Brad picked up the candy bag.
“Knock yourself out,” Candy said. “Though I’d hope you’d make a better decision by this point in the night.”
“Let’s see,” he said. “Which candy do I really want? Real conundrum here.”
“Hey now!” She slapped him on the arm and moved to the bed to pull the sheets down. She was impressed he was able to use the word conundrum. Especially after being as worked up as he was.
She started to kick off her high heels, and thought otherwise. When was the last time she wore heels to bed? Sounded like a fun idea. She sat her ass on the side of the bed, and waited for Brad to decide on how to solve his conundrum.
He opened the box of condoms, and tossed one to the bed. Then he opened the candy and brought himself to bed.
“Having a little of both?” Candy said.
“Why the fuck not?” he said, and winked. He tossed a candy into his mouth.
And then he unzipped her skirt and pulled it and her panties to the floor. She took off her blouse, but left her bra on. She wanted him to decide on that one.
She helped him out of his polo shirt and jeans. He kicked his shoes to the side, and had the decency to take off his socks.
Clearly he worked out at the gym. Not big muscles, but he was well chiseled and formed. And the bulge in his boxers looked well formed too.
He pushed her down onto the mattress.
Before he could do anything else, she flipped over on her stomach.
“I think I owe you,” she said.
“Is that so?” He didn’t waste any time slipping off his boxers and getting in front of her face. He was long, much longer than she would’ve normally preferred. But she wasn’t telling him that. Plus he was thick, which mattered more to her. He was cleanly shaved, except for a little patch of dark hair above the shaft.
Candy tugged on his balls, and then stroked his member. He waited patiently, on his knees in front of her, arms behind his back, not forcing himself, letting her take the lead.
She gripped him by the girth, and tugged him closer. He scooted an inch. Close enough for her to taste his tip and scratch her fingernails down his shaft. She took him in a little bit at a time. His breathing became panting.
He stroked her hair back and she swallowed him deeper yet. Not balls deep. She didn’t have that kind of talent.
And thankfully, he didn’t force her to deepthroat. Likely she would’ve gagged. And that just wasn’t sexy.
And then he shifted a little to the side, and she heard the rustle of plastic. She spat him out and looked up. He popped a Skittle into his mouth.
“Want one?” he said, and offered her the bag.
She burst out laughing. Even spat a little on his cock on accident. “Seriously, dude?”
“I take all my pleasures seriously,” he said, a wry grin on his sexy lips.
She took a candy and ate it, trying to chew it slowly. The effect wasn’t as seductive as she hoped, and she burst out laughing again.
He laughed with her.
“Sorry,” she said, when she finally settled down a little.
He shrugged. “What for? I’m having a wonderful time.”
“Good,” she said, and grabbed hold of his cock to bring him back to her.
The after-taste of the candy made him taste sugary. She thought about lines in bad erotica novels, about cocks that taste sweet like sugar or strawberries, and she suppressed another laugh. Brad responded with a guarded chuckle of his own, as if he wasn’t sure what to think of her latest outburst.
And then she finally got serious about sucking his cock.
She couldn’t fit him inside her mouth, so instead she licked him down the shaft. First one way, then the other way back up. She wrapped her lips around his head, and flicked him with her tongue. And then back down again, leaving a sloppy mess to his sack. She sucked in one ball, then the other.
A soft moan from him told her to keep doing just that. She massaged his balls with her tongue while tugging on his cock, making him harder. He throbbed under her touch, which just made her even more hungry for him.
She held nothing back. She covered him with her saliva. He panted, hunched over, massaging her shoulders and begging her not to stop.
And then she tasted a hint of salty with the sweet. She pulled back, and a long string of precum attached itself to her mouth from the tip of his cock. She touched the tip and lifted the string onto her finger. And then she licked her finger tip and swallowed.
She dove right back for more, almost taking him in entirely. An inch short. And she tried for more. She gagged, spit on him, and tried again.
He pushed her away.
“Hold on,” he said.
“To what?” she said.
“Your ass,” he said, and reached for the condom. He unwrapped it, and slipped it on.
“I’d rather hold onto other things.” She pushed him down on his back and straddled him. The expression on his face was priceless. He must’ve thought he’d be in charge at this point. He didn’t object. He certainly didn’t say no.
Candy slipped his tip inside her. Only the tip at first. That was all she could handle. She wiggled her hips, putting those belly dancing classes from long ago to good use. Slowly, she spread open for him. Even more slowly, she took in more of him. He massaged her sides and tugged at her bra straps.
And then, she had him balls deep. She felt so full, so stretched out. Amazing.
She rocked back and forth on him, as if riding a slow moving bull. She pressed her hands on his firm chest, squeezing his pec muscles. He played with her ass. To her surprise and delight, he pressed the tip of one finger into her bum, which made her feel all the more filled.
Somewhere along the way, her bra straps slipped down her shoulders. Her hair felt sweaty and sticky. It seemed like somebody turned up the room temperature by ten degrees, her skin felt so hot.
And then she rode him faster. Her world narrowed down to only him and the bed and the crazy good sensations coursing through her body. Her heart pumped overtime. The sounds of skin slapping against skin might’ve been coming from another room, made by some other couple doing far nastier things to each other.
She really wanted her bra off. But apparently, he didn’t. And she was too busy fucking his brains out to bother with a clasp.
He renewed his fingering effort on her ass. And then he added a finger on her clit. Right when he did so, Candy let out the loudest scream she had ever heard come from her mouth.
And then she orgasmed on top of Brad.
She collapsed onto his arms. He held her, and inch by inch he slid out of her. She let out her breath when he was finally all the way out.
He rolled her over onto her back and straddled her.
To her shock, he reached for the bag of candy.
“You’re still hard,” she said.
“Not for long,” he winked, eating a candy. And then dropping a few between her breasts.
She laughed and called him a dork.
Brad smiled so cutely when he pulled off his condom and tossed it aside. He didn’t stop smiling while he jerked himself in front of her. Candy pressed her boobs together. He slipped his cock between them.
And then he titty fucked her.
Any other man, Candy might’ve found the experience boring. What would be the point? But after the orgasm he gave her, she couldn’t deny him whatever he wanted. He made sexy grunting sounds while he jabbed his hips at her. Her entire body rocked with his motion. The bed squeaked. The headboard rattled.
He jerked himself a few times. He squeezed his thighs around her. And then stream after stream of sticky white come sprayed out of his cock. Candy didn’t think it would ever stop.
When it finally did, he bent down and licked his mess up. He couldn’t get it all, there was so much sprayed all over her.
He laid his head down between her breasts.
“When’s the next date night?” Candy asked.
“Who said tonight’s date was over?” he said, sounding as if half asleep.
Sounded like she needed to bang him again, before she missed her next opportunity. That would be the story of her life.
But she could afford to let him rest for a bit.
Copyright © 2018 by Hermit Muse Publishing
Cover Image: Lashkhitzetim/BigStockPhoto
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