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the pick-up part one


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does he know what we're into?  does he want to be into it too?

 


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We had met him before and had non-sexual conversation—polite sorts of hellos.  Jayme ran into him at work from time to time.  He was young, clean cut, confident.  Jayme thought he was hot.  Maybe hot doesn’t do justice to her impression of him.  For what it's worth, I thought he was a nice guy. 

We knew he didn’t have a girlfriend.  We knew he liked to have fun.  But would he swing? 

That was the question.  Well, one of them.  We weren’t on a mission to convert him; he was just on the possibilities list—an ever growing and changing list of co-workers, waitresses, and celebrities that we would love to bump into at a swingers convention (or in bed).  If it happened, it happened, but we were generally satisfied—what other choice is there—with just talking about the people on the list from time to time.  “Would you?”  one of us will ask.  “Hell yes,” the other one might respond.  In the case of Matt, Jayme made a definite hell yes case.

One Friday evening we went to the local pub to grab a drink.  It was one of those, “let’s just go have one” nights that we knew would turn into a “we should have left a little earlier” nights.  One thing leads to another.  I suppose we shouldn’t complain about having a place with people we enjoy so much.  If only they had a public sex room—or even private ones.  In a perfect world. . .

Our favorite table wasn’t open, so we sat at the bar.  It is a good place for conversation anyway.  Soon, who should walk in but Matt.  He said hello to us both, but sat, politely, by me.  Another friend came in shortly after and sat next to Jayme.  Though she likes the other friend, I’m sure she would have rather been sitting next to Matt.  Knowing that she was thinking about what we were talking about the whole time she was talking with our other friend (it is so difficult to have conversations at a bar with someone sitting more than a stool away), I included her and filled her in from time to time.

For whatever reason, Matt’s conversation went immediately to and almost never swerved away from sex.  Hmmm.  So I discovered he likes sex.  I suppose that shouldn’t have been a big mystery anyway.  He was single, attractive, and twenty-two.  But it was his enthusiasm and kink that got me thinking.  His stories were all about him and his friends picking up girls, having all sorts of wild sex, how he often had to masturbate before going to work, how he needed sex all the time, and—listen to this—how he had recently discovered he was attracted to older women.  He had an experience with a women in her late thirties a couple years earlier (when he was 19) and had a recent experience with an “older woman” as well.  She was thirty.   Even though “older” had a slightly different age-range attached than we would think of, there was an interest. 

I wondered, of course, if that was his way of saying he was interested in Jayme.  What did he know about us?   We always wonder that. 

As the evening progressed, Jayme started flirting.  Our other friend had gone, so she could move between us.  I went to the bathroom and told her she should switch seats with me “so she could hear.”  She didn't hesitate.  Now he was between us. 

Some of what follows is fuzzy (sorry), but the most important thing is that his conversation didn't change much.  Sex, and then some sex.  Jayme didn't have any trouble keeping up.  The three of us (mostly those two) talked about preferences, experiences.  I distinctly remember some talk of threesomes and squirting women. 

He began to worry about not getting laid that night, so called a girl he had sex with recently.  Little did he know, he really didn't need to call in re-enforcements.  She came.  Jayme had some fun by flirting with Matt, and Matt had fun by flirting with Jayme.  She danced on him a little, rubbing her ass on his crotch.  At one point, I believe he saw Jayme's right breast. 

We left him alone, though, to make his move on the girl he had summoned. 

We left it at that and thought little more about it or him for a few weeks.  Maybe Jayme thought more than a minute.  She did say confidently, “It’s going to happen.”  And she qualified:  “I don’t know when, but get him in the right situation and it’s going to happen.”

A couple weeks later, we found out exactly what he had been thinking.

Read Part Two. . .
 

 

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He was young.  When he sat next to us at the bar, all he talked about was sex.  Did he know our secret?  Did he want to have sex with us (her)?  Read on . . .

Snow is sexy.

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