A Booty Call Backfires - Sex Stories

A Booty Call Backfires

... exactly in the driver's seat. I was the one being taken for a ride. “I guess I don't have a choice, do I?” I said, trying my best to sound non-committal. “Only if you want to walk home without a coat,” she said simply. I glanced through the window to see snow had started falling. I was a little irritated but aroused even more. The deck was stacked against me and I was more in the mood to teach her a lesson than I was to submit to one. I did a quick bit of math; I was wearing a shirt, a pair of pants, boxer shorts, a pair of socks and a pair of shoes. I'd have seven guesses. My eyes fell upon my shoes where they had fallen earlier next to the bed. No, I’d only have five guesses. Christy followed my gaze and read my mind at the same time. “Tell you what,” she offered. “The keys aren’t in the closet.” My eyes swept the room again. A double bed was against the wall to the left of the door. A dresser took up most of the wall opposite the bed. There was a nightstand next to the bed under the room’s only window. A bookshelf occupied the corner to the left of the dresser, and a chair sat in the corner to the right of the dresser. The closet took up most of the wall opposite the window. Staring at the dresser, two small drawers across the top with three large drawers beneath, I pondered the possibilities. “How exact do I have to be?” I asked. Christy followed my eyes to the dresser, piled with cosmetics and perfumes, a jewelry box on top. A pile of textbooks were stacked at one ...

... end. A couple of stuffed animals, propped against the dresser’s full-length mirror, were on the other end. Quite a mess. For a moment, she looked a little sheepish about the clutter. Then she got back to business. “You can't just say, ‘In the dresser,’” she said. “You have to guess a drawer.” Well. That could exhaust my guesses right there. “Then you'll have to tell me if I'm hot or cold,” I demanded. She smirked, as if she had seen this coming. “All right,” she agreed. I stood in the center of the room and turned slowly, sizing things up. I'd better divide the room in half with the first guess. “On top of the dresser,” I said, eyeing the mess. Christy walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing one leg over the other in silence. “Nope,” she said with a satisfied smile. “Well,” I snapped. “Am I hot or cold?” Christy leaned back on her hands, arching her back. The unzipped coat fell open, pushing her beautiful breasts out toward me. I never could decide whether she was a B-cup or a C-cup. Probably a B. Only her waist was so slim, it made her boobs seem big. Her nipples were poking themselves against her sweater, and I admired the view. Something else to distract my attention. Christy rocked her upper leg. I lifted my eyes back to her face. “You're hot,” she said and smiled a bemused smile. My eyes lit up. “You're hot,” she said again. “Your guess is cold.” I groaned. She chuckled and pumped her leg a couple more times before standing up. “Take it off,” she demanded in a voice ...