The Throw-Away Line

I met Amanda when I went back home to settle my father?s estate; ?home? being a small city on the Intracoastal Waterway north of Vero Beach. Since the last time I had been back, a new pizza place had opened in a town that had more pizza places than it really needed. Their hook was ?Authentic New York Style? pies, and my sister swore that they were. So after spending the better part of the day with lawyers, bankers, investment counselors, and the like, I decided to try the place out. Walking in, the first thing I noticed was the big oven in the back, with what looked like about a dozen pies of all sizes already cooking, and a staff of four preparing what looked like a dozen more. I really didn?t want to wait an hour for a pizza, and was about to walk back out when a voice called out ?Wait! Can I help you??That?s when I first saw her; her bright hazel eyes and wide smile stopping me dead in my tracks. ?I really don?t want to wait an hour for a pizza? I said.?Oh, don?t worry, if you order anything but the super large, it will be done in less than twenty minutes? she replied. So I ordered a pie to go and a beer to drink while I waited, and proceeded to sit at the counter where I could watch her work. She looked etlik escort to be about twenty, 5? 7? with a tomboy?s build. Her brown hair was pulled up and clipped, but with little wisps escaping. Funny, but she had no one individual feature that, on its own, stood out. Smallish breasts, an average looking behind, etc. Yet, as a package, they created an allure that had me following her every move, to the point that when my pizza came, I had hardly touched my beer. As I paid the check, I gave my standard throw-away line, ?Boy, I wish I was thirty years younger? (yes, I?m in my fifties).?I don?t know if being thirty years older is such a bad thing? she replied, ?I sure haven?t had much luck with guys my own age.??Well then, what time do you get off?? I asked.?Not until two AM,? she answered, ?Too late to do anything in this town.?Thinking that I had heard the polite brush-off, I turned and left. Well, my sister was right; it was great pizza. So great, in fact, that a couple of days later I decided to order one to be delivered. A male voice took the order; so imagine my surprise about thirty minutes later when, hearing the doorbell, I opened it to see the same girl as the other keçiören escort night standing there holding my pizza. ?I was hoping it was your order,? she said with a smile. ?I?ve been saving your name from your credit card swipe in case you called in. I?m Amanda. Can I come in and put this down?? Standing back from the entryway, I motioned her in with a gallant wave of the arm. As she passed, I couldn?t help but notice that her little rear-end looked way better than I first thought, now that it was encased in a pair of tight fitting denim shorts that looked as if they had been painted on. I wondered if maybe I had misjudged her tits, as well. She seemed to know exactly where she was headed, going straight to the screen patio out back and putting the pizza on the table. Walking behind the wet-bar, she took out a couple of cold Tecates, popped the tops, and took a long slug from one as she handed the other to me. ?No sense wasting time,? she announced. ?I?ve only got a half hour for dinner, the pizza?s getting cold, and I?m already hot.? Then, putting down her beer, she stripped off her t-shirt. While I had not misjudged the size of her breasts, I had definitely underestimated kızılay escort their quality. They looked to be about 34 B?s, but firm and high with the most adorable pink nipples that were pointing out straight and proud. I took this as my cue to reciprocate, and doffed my shirt as I moved closer to her. My lips sought hers out as I pulled her towards me; her delicate mouth opened to receive my probing tongue as her nipples danced through the salt and pepper hairs on my chest. I moved one hand down her back to grasp her tight little ass, and she responded by grinding her pelvis against mine as she wrapped her arms around my waist. Breaking our clutch, I began kissing my way down her soft neck as I brought my hands up to cup her firm but supple mounds, catching the nipples between my fingers. As if molding something from the most precious of clays, I slowly kneaded as she reached between us to rub my hardening cock through my pants. Lifting her, I sat her on the edge of table, pushing the pizza box aside. She leaned back, supporting herself on her elbows as I leaned in for my first taste of her flesh. Using my tongue on one breast and duplicating its movements with my fingers on the other, I traced ever closing circles as I moved from the outer edges towards her areolas, finally taking one nipple firmly between my lips while pinching the other between my finger tips. Grasping my hair, she pulled my head closer as if trying to feed me whichever breast I suckled, softly moaning.