Carl Weber

So You Call Yourself A Man


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now, most of mine had to do with sex and how Tiffany used to put it on me every night in the backseat of my father’s car. Boy, did she have some good damn pussy. My dick was getting hard just thinking about it. I was glad I was sitting down so the table could cover it.

      Tiffany was a year older than me. We started dating in my sophomore year of high school. She was one of those girls who never had any girlfriends and was always hanging around with a bunch of guys. Truth is, she had a reputation for being a slut, and the only reason I started to date her was because I wanted to lose my virginity.

      What I didn’t know was that it wasn’t as easy to get in her pants as everyone said. Oh, she wasn’t a virgin, but you could count the guys she’d been with on one hand. I found out later that many a brother had lied on their dicks when it came to her, including my boy Brent. Let him tell it, all you had to do was buy her an ice-cream sundae or a shake from Baskin-Robbins and take her for a walk down by Roy Wilkins Park, and she’d do all the rest. I must have bought twenty-five sundaes and another thirty shakes before I finally got some, and even then, she didn’t initiate it. Funny thing is, by the time she did give me some, I really liked her and didn’t give a damn what her reputation was. From that point on, we were boyfriend and girlfriend, an inseparable pair. That is, until she graduated and joined the Navy without telling me.

      “How you doing, Tiffany? You’re looking good.” My eyes were fixated on her hips. Deep down, I wanted to ask her to turn around so I could see her ass.

      “Thanks.” Her dimple got deeper. “You’re not looking so bad yourself for a dead man.”

      “You know what they say. Embalming fluid helps preserve your youth.” I rubbed my hand across my smoothly shaved face. We both cracked up, laughing.

      “Oh, Lord, Sonny, you still crazy. You know that?” She was still chuckling.

      “Yeah, and you’re still the prettiest girl at the prom. Did you know that?”

      Don’t ask me where that came from, because I don’t have a clue, but neither one of us was laughing anymore. We were staring at each other, our eyes doing all the talking, reminiscing about what quite possibly was the greatest night of either of our lives. I loved my wife more than anything in the world, and when she married me she made me the happiest man in the world, but the happiest night of my life would always be the night of Tiffany’s senior prom.

      The lights in the hall got dim when the DJ announced that Brent and Alison had just left the building and he would only be playing three more songs. As if it were scripted, the next song he played was “Endless Love.”

      “Remember this?” Tiffany finally broke our silence.

      “How could I ever forget our song?”

      “So, can a sister get a dance or what?” She placed a hand on her hip.

      “Sure,” I told her as I stood, trying my best to use my tuxedo jacket to hide my erection.

      I thought about Jessica and the kids back in Seattle. Like I said earlier, I’d never cheated on my wife before, but dancing wasn’t cheating, so I didn’t feel any guilt. Tiffany led the way to the dance floor, and for the first time, I saw that bodacious ass of hers. It looked just like a Georgia peach in that tight-fitting dress, and my dick got just a little bit harder.

      When we got on the dance floor, Tiffany wrapped her arms around my neck and placed her head on my shoulder. She was so soft and smelled so good that I just wanted to squeeze her and pull her in close, but I resisted. I didn’t want her to feel my bulging manhood up against her dress. I wanted to believe she wouldn’t mind, but the last thing I needed was to get slapped on the dance floor at Brent’s wedding.

      “I love this song,” she whispered, snuggling her head up against my neck. She pulled me in a little closer, and I’m sure she could feel what was going on down below. “Whenever I hear it, I think of you and the prom. That was the best night of my life.”

      “Mine too.” I couldn’t see her face, but I was sure she was smiling from the sigh she let out. She pulled me in closer and my stuff slid right up against the soft mound between her legs.

      “You’ve got me feeling like we’re in high school again, Sonny.” I rubbed my hands against the skin where her dress was open in the back. “I’m starting to feel like it’s the prom all over again.” I didn’t reply. I was too busy enjoying the pleasure of our bodies rubbing up against each other.

      “That was the first time I ever spent the entire night with a man.”

      “For me that was the first night for a lot of things,” I whispered.

      “I’ll never forget that night. That was the first time you ever went down on me.”

      “You know, I had to read a book to find out what to do.”

      “What’s the name of that book? ’Cause there’s a lot of men that need to read it. You were the absolute bomb.” Now I was blushing.

      “It’s called The Joy of Sex.”

      “Oh, it was a joy, all right.” She reached behind and moved my hands lower. I stopped them at her waist, opening my eyes to see who might be looking. I wanted to feel Tiffany’s ass, to massage it with my hands, but I was afraid someone might see me. Fortunately, most of the guests had left shortly after the bride and groom, and everyone on the dance floor was preoccupied. I slowly guided my hands below her waist, feeling the soft globes of her perfectly round backside.

      “That’s not too much for you to handle, is it?” she teased. “She’s a little bigger than she used to be back in the day.”

      “Nah,” I replied, my hands continuing to roam. “You don’t have to worry. I can handle it. I like ’em big.”

      “Good.” She pulled me in closer and our two-step became a flat-footed grind.

      We danced like that for at least one more song without a word being said, and I was starting to feel woozy. I hadn’t had more than one or two glasses of champagne throughout the night, but I felt like I was drunk. I’d heard of people getting sex-drunk, but I’d always thought of it as an urban myth until now.

      I think Tiffany was just as intoxicated as I was because the way she was grinding up against me, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was close to orgasm.

      “Sonny,” she whispered halfway through the third song.

      “Yes?”

      “My kids are with my ex-husband tonight. I was wondering if you’d like to come home with me.”

      I lifted my head and looked in her eyes. I would have gone anywhere with her at that moment. “Yeah, I’ll go home with you,” I replied without any hesitation.

      I bent down to kiss her, but the music stopped and the lights came on before our lips could meet. We stepped apart, but it was hard because we were still drawn to each other. I tried to position my rock-hard manhood in my pants so it wouldn’t be so conspicuous, while Tiffany scrambled to push down her hiked-up dress. We got ourselves together just in time, because her girlfriend called her from the door like she was her mama, and on top of that, James was headed our way.

      “I’ll meet you in the parking lot. I gotta get rid of my friend,” she said.

      “No problem. Looks like I’m gonna have to do the same.”

      She stepped toward me as if she wanted a kiss, then stepped back when she glanced at her friend. “I’ll be outside,” she mouthed then walked toward the door, switching her ass just for my benefit. I couldn’t wait to get her out of that dress.

      “Hey, is that who I think it is? Is that your ex, Tiffany?” James pointed and we both watched her walk away.

      “Yeah, that’s her,” I said nonchalantly.

      “Man, she’s sure got a nice ass.” He laughed. “Bet you wish you could get some of that again.”

      “Yep,