There used to be a chain of steakhouses in Texas, and perhaps elsewhere, called the Old San Francisco Steakhouse. They typically looked like a red barn, and featured “the girl in the velvet swing.” The girl wore a Gibson girl style outfit, and swung back and forth over the crowds eating below.
My roommate’s girlfriend was a velvet swing girl. We had a flirty off limits relationship forever, with a lot of casual touching and furtive glances.
Late one night she showed up after we work in her uniform, complete with heels and fishnet stockings. She was very sweaty on this hot summer evening, and covered in perspiration. I told her my roommate wasn’t home, and invited her in for some ice water. Instead, I took her in my arms and began kissing the sweat off her.
It was sweet release of months of tension between us. We ended up fucking on the floor in the dining room like two animals in heat. Good thing my roommate did not come home, because she was grunting like a sow, snorting and squealing, while I stretched all of her holes. I held her head up so she could watch my cock sawing in and out of her, and I made her say derogatory things about my roommate’s fucking abilities.
She ended up on her knees with her uniform hiked around her waist. I banged her red bush, while pushing both thumbs in and out of her puckered ass. I didn’t pull out. I hoped my roommate would get a taste of my sauce, if her pussy wasn’t too tender.
They broke up a few weeks later. I don’t think it was over me, but I do think she realized there was someone better for her out there. In the meantime, I finally went to the OSFS and watched her swing.