The Girl Who Played Hard to Get: My Friend’s Troublesome Ex

Years ago, when I was about 20, my friend Mike started bringing his young, flirty girlfriend to parties. She was the kind of girl who would turn heads, with her funny, pretty, and sexy demeanor. But she was also the kind of girl who would push boundaries, like the time she reached out and grabbed my crotch at a party, only to quickly pull back and laugh it off.

Mike laughed it off too, saying she was just drunk, but I knew she was something else entirely. And sure enough, a few weeks later, they broke up. Mike said she was trouble, but I wasn’t so sure.

I was working late one hot summer night at my father’s small business, a draftsman/designer position. The building was located down on the road to the beach, a local cruising spot. I often went down and worked late to get ahead on orders. That’s when I saw her, Mike’s ex, standing in the parking lot, waving at me.

“Whatcha doing down here so late?” she asked, running up to the door. “Can I use your bathroom?” I invited her in, leading her to the ladies’ room. She seemed bubbly and full of smiles, but I couldn’t tell if she was drunk or high.

When she came out, she walked up close to me, closer than I expected. “Are you going to show me around?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I led her upstairs to my office, a large room with my desk and drafting table.

She asked me what I was drawing, but her eyes kept drifting to mine, and I knew she wasn’t really interested in the design. She kicked off her flip-flops and struck a flirty pose, asking me to draw her. I pulled a chair over, and she sat down, her thin skirt riding up her thighs.

As I looked at her, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was, with her long legs and toned arms. But I also couldn’t help but wonder how old she was, and if she was legal. I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the drawing.

“How do you want me to pose?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes on the paper. She folded her hands behind her head, arched her back, and slid down in the chair, her skirt sliding up her thighs. I couldn’t help but stare, my eyes fixed on the gap between her legs.

“Wow, you really have beautiful legs,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Lift your skirt a little so I can see more.” She smiled, a wicked smile, and lowered her arms, pulling her skirt up a few inches. I fanned her, my eyes fixed on the gap between her legs.

“Open your legs more,” I said, my voice low and husky. She slowly opened her legs, and I fanned her some more, the breeze lifting her skirt and revealing her panties. I could see a large wet spot, and I knew she was turned on.

“You really look so beautiful,” I said, trying to sound sincere. “I’m not sure if I can capture your beauty on paper.” She smiled, her eyes locked on mine, and I knew I was in trouble.

“Show me more of your tan lines,” I said, trying to sound casual. She didn’t hesitate, pulling off her bra and panties, leaving her wearing only her thin skirt. I was shocked, but I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt.

“You have a beautiful figure,” I said, trying to sound sincere. “That sweater was covering too much.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and I knew I was in trouble.

“I want to see more,” she said, her voice low and husky. “Show me a little bit more. Open your legs and raise your skirt.” I was shocked, but I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt.

“You need to get it hard first,” I said, trying to sound casual. She smiled, a wicked smile, and started rubbing her pussy. I was shocked, but I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt.

“Show me your cock,” she said, her voice low and husky. I was shocked, but I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt. I walked over in front of her, unbuckled my belt, and pulled down my jeans. She reached out and grabbed my shaft, and I knew I was in trouble.

“Pull my hair!” she said, her voice low and husky. I grabbed a handful of her hair, and she started moaning and rocking back on me. I was shocked, but I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt.

“God, I love your cock!” she said, her voice low and husky. “Pull my hair! Fuck me! Fuuuucckkk MEEE!” I was shocked, but I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt. I started pumping into her, my cock sliding in and out of her tight pussy.

As I looked at her, I knew I was in trouble. I was falling for her, hard. And I knew I had to have her, no matter what the consequences might be.

It had been several years since that intense night, and I had often wondered about the woman I’d had a whirlwind encounter with. She was getting really loud, and I thought about the open windows and anyone nearby, but my focus was on the moment, not the consequences.

I started fucking her harder, pulling her hair back and driving my cock deeper into her pussy. I’d always tried to be gentle in lovemaking, but it was clear she didn’t want to make love. She wanted to be fucked, hard and roughly.

“FUCCKKK MEEE!! HARDER!!!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the room.

“I’M CUMMINNNGG!!” she shouted, her body tensing beneath mine.

I pumped harder and harder, driving deeper into her, pulling her hair, and pulling her body back onto my cock. My cock felt like the center of the universe, the pressure of my orgasm swelling up uncontrollably.

My head exploded as I pumped into her, bottoming out inside of her again and again, complete euphoria coursing through me.

I collapsed on her back, out of breath and seeing stars from my orgasm.

I’d never cum so quickly before – nor after. No foreplay at all. I swear I didn’t last but a minute after I started pumping fully into her.

I never even kissed her.

I pulled out from her, and tried to get my act back together. I stood up, pulled off my condom, and pulled my pants back up.

She crawled over to grab her clothes, put her bra back on, her panties, and the pink sweater.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot… I’m late. I gotta run. I’m gonna be in trouble,” she said, her voice laced with worry.

She pulled herself together and ran out to her car and left. I went back to the drafting table and started working on the project again.

-About 5-years later-

I ran up to a nearby strip mall to get my hair cut, a familiar place I’d never been to before. A friend had recommended it for its speed and affordability.

I sat down in the barber chair and recognized her almost immediately. She cut my hair and made casual conversation, her laughter a reminder of that night.

She had gained weight since the last time I saw her. She now had a child, but no husband, and it was clear she was making do, day-by-day.

After she was almost done with my haircut, I finally commented, “Do you ever see Mike again?”

“Oh my gosh… you… you worked down on the beach?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see you again,” I replied, trying to play it cool.

Her face reddened, and for a moment, I worried I’d said too much.

“I… uh… yeah,” she stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

As the stylist finished my haircut, I couldn’t help but wonder what had become of the woman I’d had a whirlwind encounter with. Was she really in trouble? And what was her life like now?