unexpected meeting

This story, a joint venture of dawnj and me, was both a lot of fun and very exciting to write. We hope it’s a lot of fun to read, too.


I will never forget the look you gave me when I turned up on the symposium, out of the blue. I hadn’t told you I would come, because I meant to surprise you — I certainly did. Your eyes almost popped out of your head…I felt so sorry; I didn’t mean it that way. You didn’t take it amiss, though, fortunately.

I’m trying to select the right clothes to wear to take you out for dinner – but as it is one of the things we never talked about in our email contacts, I just have to follow my own lead; there’s no reference section for me there.

We have known each other — how long? It seems like always; but it cannot be more than a little over six months that we chanced upon each other on an online forum on teaching literature and started to talk to each other outside of it…

It was strange – your ideas on teaching echoed mine in an uncanny way, and we liked all sorts of other things, too, and I started to look forward to our talks eagerly — I even got grumpy when we couldn’t talk for whatever reason.

Then you told me of the symposium. It was exactly half term here, and I got a brainwave. I’d always wanted to visit New York, and visit the Guggenheim Museum, and wander in Central Park, and go up the Empire State Building, and sit and look at the Hudson. A forefather of mine must have sailed up it…Is it possible at all? I don’t know; New York isn’t London, and perhaps you can only stand and stare…

But now there was a truly good reason to go. I don’t think I would have gone, otherwise.

You told me enough to go and book myself in, and the rest was easy enough. After the initial shock of finding me here, I was treated to the most brilliant smile I’ve ever seen. I knew it from the pictures you sent, but in real life it was so animated, and you lovely brown eyes sparkled. You’d told me you were proud of your legs – I could see why! Oh girl, you bowled me over online; now you easily did it again. Wow. I hope you didn’t notice me looking at your breasts…I still feel all warm and fuzzy and hot and bothered. I loved this day — can’t say I heard much of the symposium, but that’s alright, I will read the handouts when I’m back home.

We talked and talked during breaks. I love your voice — it reaches parts of me other voices can’t reach – and your face… I could just sit for hours and drown in it.

Phew. I have to concentrate on getting dressed. You agreed to come and have dinner with me…We’ll be meeting in the lobby in five minutes, and I want to be there in time — I hate making people wait.


I smooth my hands down the sides of my dress, as much to calm my nerves as to make sure I’m not ruffled anywhere. The black dress falls just to my knees in a demure pencil skirt hemline that belies the dramatic neckline — scalloped but seductive despite the fact that it hides my cleavage nicely. It is demure enough not to raise any eyebrows, but sexy enough to make anyone who wanted to, take a second look. I hate that I don’t have a flat belly, and that my arms are fat, but I know the dress will disguise my imperfections, and maybe I will get lucky and you’ll not notice all that. I thank my lucky stars that I had decided to bring a second formal dress, in the event I have to do more than go to the final grand ballroom celebration on the last night. I know the ball gown I have ready for that occasion would be over the top tonight, but I want to look as good as I can for a first date with the stranger who is also my friend.

I touch my hand to the silver chain that gleams at my neck, and remind myself that I look quite presentable.

I know when you get to the lobby before I see you, because the fine hairs on my arms stand on end, as though they have been electrified. I look up and meet your eyes, and immediately the charge arcs between us. You smile at me, and I watch your blue eyes grow warm. You are a handsome man, gray hair adding to a distinguished jaw line. It suits you, as does the dark business suit that you’re wearing. The crisp white shirt and dark tie are conservative, and they match my outfit nicely.

I return your smile and allow you to take my elbow and lead me out to a waiting cab, which takes us to a nearby restaurant. How you have managed to secure us a table for two in the quietest part of the restaurant I will never know, but I’m grateful for the dim lights and ambiance. You’ve been a true gentleman so far, though every touch is electric, no matter how accidental. We talk of everything and nothing through the courses of the meal — your parents and cousins, your trip to Sri Lanka, your plans for Christmas, my issues with my principal, my plans for the house, my new business. By the time dessert arrives, we are all caught up, and comfortable in each other’s company.

I’ve been wondering all evening what it would be like to hold hands with you, and I look down as I scoop some ice cream into my spoon. Your fingers are long and slender, and your hands are ropy and large — a man’s hands. I’m fascinated by them — the blunt fingernails, clean, almost buffed, the veins on the backs of them, the large knuckles, as though you are used to cracking them. Without thinking, I reach across and rest my palm over your hand. You look up, startled for a second, and then a slow, heated smile breaks over your face. You turn your palm to mine, and your big hand engulfs my small one. Instantly, I am so hot I can hardly breathe, and when you raise my hand to your lips and kiss each knuckle, I cannot stop the trembling that overcomes me.

You abandon your own dessert to cup my hand between yours, and I wonder, suddenly afraid, that you won’t be able to control the urge to kiss me that I can see lurking in your gaze, which is fastened on my lips. I can feel myself blushing. When you lean forward, my heart hammers in my chest, wondering where this new and urgent intimacy will take us.


I slowly look up from those tempting lips to your eyes — my seated heart knocks at my ribs, but I see a look of anxiety there. I remember your emails — I know them by heart, more or less — and I have to go slowly, so I smile at you, and nod, and slowly the anxiety leaves your face again for a lazy smile. Penny for you thoughts…

In our emails I would have asked you straight away — sitting here face to face is different. It really is — more joyous, but it is harder to restrain the urges your smile sends up and down my back, making me shiver a little with the thoughts that course through my mind, the feelings I can only suppress wit an effort, and I feel a little shy — being able to blurt things out without being seen has its advantages…

Still, I’m afraid my face is one big smile all the time — I haven’t felt so happy for years, and I tell you so. It just slips out before I know.

I was never good at flirting — we did flirt a little on line, but I had to be shown — and I didn’t intend it as such, but it sets your face aglow. You look so beautiful it makes me blush, and I run my hands over my cheeks, which makes them only feel hotter.

I put my hand on the table again, so you can put yours in mine if you want — I know it was an impulse, and I know you are rather weary of men — and to my delight you put yours in mine again. I think I blush even more; you must notice. I look at you to see if you don’t think I’m being ridiculous — but the smile I like so much is still there. The old country song you sent me plays through my mind – Faith and Tim singing “It’s your love,” and you have a look on your face I cannot describe but it goes straight to my heart.

I finish my dessert. It’s good but I don’t think I really do it justice; my mind is too much on other things. You toy a little with your wineglass, running your fingers along the stem, and that makes me think some very ungentlemanly thoughts… I feel a stirring I don’t want just now — not yet. I have to look away from your hands.

When I’ve finished my dessert I ask if you like some coffee but you decline. So is there anywhere else you’d like to go? You look at me with a far-off look in your eyes. Then you smile at me, and your smile does something strange to my knees…


I tell you that I’ve never been dancing with a man before, that my few such excursions were always with my girlfriends at a club they’d drag me to. Your smile shows your delight at the prospect, and we make our way to the club recommended by the waiter whom you ask for suggestions. The club is full, mostly with a younger crowd, but we make our way over to the bar, order drinks — another first for me — and wait for a song that appeals to us both. The musical choices have been eclectic, to say the least, but this club has an old-time feature…a jukebox. We watch as a few people go to it and make their choice for the next dance, and when we hear the one a couple who look like punk rockers choose, we stare at each other for a long heartbeat and then place our glasses carefully down and walk over to the dance floor.

You take my hand and pull me into your body, and we’re almost hugging as we move slowly to Faith and Tim. I cannot believe that anyone in such a hip place would choose such a song to dance to, but the floor is crowded with couples swaying to the tune. I feel your grip tighten around my waist, and I feel your body hardening. You try to keep space between us, but you cannot hide the fact of your arousal from me, and it turns me on. We both try to remain calm and collected, but I can feel the faint trembling in the fingers that hold my hand. You’re singing the words softly as the song comes to an end — “And if you wonder ’bout the spell I’m under, oh-oh-oh it’s your love!” — and I hum along with you, caught up in the moment.

An unexpected burst of applause shakes me out of the daze I seem to have fallen into, and I join in, moving off the floor as another couple chooses a crazy teenage dance tune. I smile at you, and we watch for a moment as a smaller but very energetic crowd of dancers gyrate and jump and prance wildly on the dance floor. You ask me if I’m ready, and I wonder how you know that I am. I nod and we leave, you holding my hand tightly as if to make sure I don’t escape you. We decide to walk back to the hotel, holding hands the entire way, enjoying the cool night, the bright lights, and the electricity that sizzles between us.

Back in the hotel lobby, you tell me you’ll walk me to my room. I smile at your old-world chivalry and we take the elevator to the sixth floor. Outside my door, you ask if I enjoyed your surprise, and when I smile broadly at you, you seem relieved. I don’t want the night to end, and I wish I knew how to say it, but I bite my lip nervously instead and ask if you’d like a nightcap or a cup of coffee. Your face is wreathed in smiles as you accept my offer, and we go in together. I reach for the light switch as you push the door closed, and our hands touch. I gasp, and you bend your head. I raise mine, and our eyes meet. I want you to kiss me…all evening I’ve thrilled to the sound of your voice, to the smile you flash at me, to the flirtatious remarks you make to get me to smile at you, to the way your lips curve. Everything about you has been stirring me up, and I need a kiss to take the edge off the ache of longing I feel building inside me. I don’t know how to say what I want, or I’m afraid to give it voice, but I must have said something because you cup my face in your hands and lower your mouth to mine, your blue eyes never leaving my brown ones…


Oh dear — to be allowed to kiss you… And then, perhaps…I kiss you hard and try to find your tongue, to taste your lips with your face in my hands, looking into your big brown eyes… I feel you press close to me — your soft breasts against my chest, your tongue doing wonderful things with mine while one hand firmly holds the back of my head. You seem to want this as much as I do, and you lead me to the side of the bed without breaking our kiss.

I find the zipper of your dress and undo it, expecting to be rapped over the knuckles — but as you don’t feel like doing so I open it slowly to find the skin beneath your clothes, warm and a little moist with anticipation — I hope — and use all I have to pay homage to it — my hands, my fingers and my tongue, and take it all slowly, and enjoy every moment of it. I try and make your nipples wet with my saliva, and pull at them with my lips first, and move the tip of my tongue back and forth over their tips. I caress your breasts with my hands, between excursions to your navel and short ones back to your mouth, alternated with little kisses on your breasts and nipples. I slowly exert more pressure and try to get your nipples as hard as possible, and tell you how nice they are, and when I have more or less succeeded I undo the clothing on your lower body with my hands and once those barriers are slighted I slide down your body with my mouth, first softly kneading your breasts with my hands and rolling your nipples between my fingers, and then lowering them over you to your stomach and around your navel.

You tremble with anticipation — and suddenly your legs seem to buckle and you sit down on the bed. I worry for a moment, but the smile you give me stops all that entirely; and you move up till you are stretched out on the bed.

I probe your navel with my tongue and tickle your belly, and then make a wet trail from your navel on down — down, down, down — and enjoy the smell of your lower body and the feeling of all the parts I can reach with my hands, and go down further until it is very obvious what I intend to do. I wait for a moment to find out if you’ll object — but you don’t and so I use my hands to caress your buttocks and lower my face between your legs, and use one hand to part the outer folds first, and the inner ones second — and then run my tongue along the length of your sex. Oooh! I must keep a grip on myself after all these years or I’ll have to wash some of my clothes… I push the tip of my tongue inside to taste you and lick the smooth, soft skin. Hmmm!

You have your hands in my hair and push my head down, and I can hear you breathe, and I try to see your face and you smile a lazy, slow smile. Your brown eyes are on mine for a moment. I run the tips of my fingers along your labia, and lick up to your clitoris without touching it — yet, and I resist any attempts to make me go there for a little time. Then I do — I wanted to all along, but I want to enjoy as much of it as possible. I hope you are not really in a hurry either. You aren’t. Finally I take the little nub between my lips and move my tongue over it, from left to right and back again, very fast, while trying to pull you into my mouth and to produce as much saliva as possible. My ears are red and hot, and my tongue feels wonderful, and so do my lips and hands. I try to make you explode, hard, and I touch your entrance with a finger while I continue to use my mouth, looking up all the while hoping to get a glimpse of your eyes. I run my hands up your body to your breasts — they have had to share the attention, and it’s their turn again while your smell is in my nose and my nose in your pubic hair. I continue until I find your legs around my head, and I softly nibble on you with my teeth, careful not to hurt you. I keep my ears geared for suggestions all the while; they will be executed promptly, whatever they are.

Meanwhile I try to get rid of my own clothes. Their confines are bothering me and I feel a little overdressed… It’s not too practical with one hand. The other is much more pleasantly employed, caressing your breasts and running up and down your belly. I do succeed to undo the fastenings, and stop a moment to get rid of them while you impatiently wait for the interruption to be over. Then I continue for a while, touching as much bare skin as I possibly can with my own, rubbing my thighs along your calves, and pressing my chest to your thighs. Then you feel you’ve been passive long enough, and you say you want another kiss, so I move up and stretch out alongside, and you hug me and we kiss.

You use your hands to investigate, and you find the effect you have on me, while I happily return to your breasts and buttocks with my hands.

You touch my member and I beam at you, loving the utterly new feeling of a woman’s — THIS woman’s — hands down there. Then I lie down and give myself over to that sensation, wondering what it is that you will do.


I don’t really know what I want to do. I’m so overwhelmed by feelings of gratitude mixed in with lust and hunger so deep it’s almost terrifying. There had been no plan for this…it had just happened, overwhelming me with desires so sharp I could not seem to resist. Under the weight of those feelings, I stroke your hardening cock, loving the way it feels as I alternate between squeezing and stroking, and then, in heated imitation of future action, pumping it between my hands fast, then slow, listening to you catch your breath, feeling you holding it, as though you dare not breathe. I use a nail to tease the vein on the underside, and trace the line below the reddening head, and watch the colour suffuse your cheeks, your ears, and watch your eyes go bloodshot, and feel you stiffen and grow warm under my ministrations. I watch a pearly drop of semen pool in the little slit at the top, and I spread it over the head, watching as your cock jerks in my hands. I let go, and watch it jerk again, as though it can feel the weight of my fascinated gaze. I know you would probably love for me to suck you off, but I don’t know if I’m ready to do that just yet. I have to be wild with lust before I can, but I want to please you, so I decide that a tease is as good as a lick to a stiff cock. I bend over and brush my breasts over you, listening to your moan softly, and look up to see your smile. I’m in new territory here, not being one to initiate lovemaking, or do much of anything to assist the process, but I want to please you, so I try to be as innovative as I can be. I blow warm air over the head, and lick it, going down the sides teasingly. The licks are more flicks of my tongue than long lollipop licks, but they seem to drive you wild despite that. I decide to give you a treat, and go outside my comfort zone a bit. Watching the pleasure suffuse your face, I lower my lips till they cover the head of your hard staff, and I suck it slowly, lightly, then stopping to lick around it, as if it were an ice cream cone. You groan, and I smile, and suck again. Another, deeper groan greets that one, and I am surprised to feel myself getting wetter. I suck again, a bit harder, and scoot up so my pussy walls are close to your hand. I beg you to touch me as I suck you, and then I’m the one groaning as you rub my clit and push two fingers in, fucking me slowly as I suck and lick you. I have to fight to concentrate on what I’m doing for you, because you are rapidly bringing me closer to an edge I’m not yet ready to fall over. I want to keep feeling this building ecstasy, and I want to take you along with me. I want the fire to burn around us, higher and higher, without consuming us. I want to fuck but not come. I am so hungry, so horny, I can’t explain to you what I want. I’m beginning to feel the need to have that cock I’m sucking and stroking and pumping doing those things inside me, where I can grip it tight and ride it and fuck it and never stop. I moan around the head of your hard shaft, and you moan with me.

We’re both breathless, and aching, and hungry and wet…


I know from your emails how much you are in a double bind in these things, how badly you want them and how much it takes out of you, and the treatment you are giving me must be so much of a victory over the conflicting feelings they make you feel, so much of a manifestation of trust I won’t take advantage of you, that it makes me feel very warm and grateful, and just a bit embarrassed — and very much into you. It also makes me feel very, very aroused. I cannot remember having been so hard, so excited, nor so overwhelmingly happy. I know I’ll have to let you choose the time and place, but that’s ok. You’re lovely, and I’m determined our lovemaking shall leave you as happy as it will leave me.

I feel you push your vulva into the palm of my hand, and I wish I had ten fingers instead of five… The inside of your pussy feels warm and wet and soft and satiny to my fingers, and the shape of your vulva fits my hand completely. Your mouth distracts my thoughts, but I want to enjoy al this consciously, fully, and to be all eyes and take it all in. You are as beautiful as I had hoped, and I move myself a bit to bring my face close to your pussy again. Your scent is much stronger than before, and I can’t help myself — I have to taste you again. I continue to slide my fingers in and out, ant to stroke your inside with my fingertips, and I replace my thumb on your clit with my mouth. Hmm… so good! You taste wonderful. Your mouth on my cock is almost sweeter that I can stand, warm and wet, and the intimacy of our position is so great it makes me feel more than grateful we’re here together… I don’t think the language has a word for how you make me feel. I find your breasts with my free hand. Owww… You bite me softly, and I feel my cock jerk for a second.

You look my way and smile and I smile back — I must be beaming with happiness all the time. I stroke your cheek for a moment, second best to kissing you, and wonder what I did right to be here with you — someone up there cannot dislike me too much.

I stop sucking you clit for a moment and part your pussy lips to look at the soft red satin inside. I lick it up and down softly once or twice – it tastes as good as it looks, and I could go on doing this for hours. You moan as I clamp my mouth over you, and I eagerly fondle your behind with my hands. This is different from all I did before, and it feels completely right. You make me feel wholly at ease, welcome and equal, and oh girl, I never knew it could be like this. I take your inner labia between my lips and suck them into my mouth, just a very little bit. They’re dark with blood, swollen, sweet — asking to be touched and licked and sucked. I will not make them have to ask twice… What more could a man want than to be where I am now, with my heads between your legs?

Oh, and the things you do to me… Oh heavens — so good, they bring tears. Where do they come from? Oh please, I must stop them. I don’t want them blurring my vision of you.

Sucking your pussy makes me forget them again. Your belly feels nice and soft, and I run a nail down your spine. I feel you shiver, and you move your legs, and shift your bottom a bit, and I move my head along — I don’t want to let go, and I lick and suck your pussy lips, in all their beautiful, crinkled glory.

Your hands drive me wild. Oh, but I cannot give in to that — I don’t want to scare you off, so I have to practise restraint. Better concentrate on the joys of your pussy — safe and lovely — and wait for you to make the next move of your own accord. This is heaven anyway, and an experience that will make me smile just by thinking of it when on my couch I lie… I’ll be perfectly happy if it lasts all night.


I can feel a light trembling in your hands that suggest you’re holding back, and I wish you wouldn’t, but am too shy to say so. I love the things you are doing to me, and I worry I’ll embarrass myself my breaking wind or doing something equally humiliating if I let myself go and relax completely under your ministrations. I find I’m trembling too, and I know that soon, if you don’t stop, I’m going to fall off the edge of the world. I wonder if it will be the stupendous, mind-blowing kind I’ve never had…I certainly feel crazed enough, like I’m on the way to that sort of orgasm. I decide that if I’m going over, so are you.

Taking a firmer grip on your steel rod, I bend over and suck, a long hard, deep pull of my jaws and tongue on you. It takes you by surprise, and your cock jerks in my mouth, as you groan low and deep. I can feel the tension in you as I alternate between light, teasing licks and deep, puling suckling of your cock. It wakes up the juices in my mouth, and I struggle not to slobber all over you, while my pussy weeps with need and arousal. I want you wound up and ready to explode, even as I feel myself nearing that pinnacle of pleasure. I worry that it’s pee not cum that is flowing from me, and wish I could let go of the struggle to remain in control. I can’t hold out against you and I want you to do more, go further, take all that I have opened up to you. I want to tell you to fuck me, I need to tell you, but the words won’t come. I grind myself against your face, and suddenly, when you nip me gently on my clit, I shatter. You are still in my mouth, and I cannot scream out my release, but I don’t want it to end.

Hurrying, afraid the feeling will pass, and needing it again, I let go of you and turn so that my pussy is lined up with your cock, and I show you what I want. I am trembling so badly that I cannot even line them up to get it in. I look at you and see your smile, and hope you’re not laughing at my clumsiness and inexperience…


Mmmm…I love this — you take my soul and turn it inside out…I don’t know exactly how that works, but everything inside seems to tremble with desire, and love, and delight — and at the same time I feel all bent on pleasing you. If only I can make you feel what I think of you — what I feel for you…

Though I thought you might not want me to touch your being completely, I think you do, now. The way you handled my cock sparked off fiery lights before my eyes…

When you suddenly let go I was afraid for a moment you’d feel I’d crossed a barrier you didn’t want me to pass, but now you have turned my way I see the need in your eyes, and a shy smile…Oh girl, if you knew how much I tremble inside and how uncertain I am, too.

I take your face in my hands. Hopefully you won’t mind tasting yourself on my lips — but you answer my kiss fiercely, hungrily, and I take my cock in my hand and try to find your sweet entrance. I feel it touch the top of your thighs. Good — I must be close to where I want to be most, and it feels so right — I smile at you but you have closed your eyes. Your face looks wonderful — sweet, rosy, aglow with desire and just a little moist with perspiration, and I softly lick your upper lip, and then down to your chin, and back to your lips. When you open your eyes for a moment, “Brown-Eyed Girl” rings through my mind for just a fraction of a sec…Oh my, you do have me skippin’ and a jumpin’ alright!

I press forward a little, still not quite certain if it’s okay with you, but you hands make for my buttocks and they show me that what you want is what I hoped you did. I feel your pussy entrance around the tip of my cock — wet, warm, and so right! If only I could put it into words. Your skin feels hot and soft, and so smooth I can slide inside in one slow, slow stroke until my pubic hair gets tangled up with yours. I love the feeling of your mons veneris touching my pelvis, just above the root of my cock, and I wait one moment to adjust to the feeling, to memorise it, and to look at you. I hope it’s what you want…You bite my tongue and you work the muscles of your pussy, squeezing me, and I respond by moving my cock with the muscles at its base. You look at me for a moment and smile, and then I lift myself on my arms and pull back, feeling every inch of your pussy around me, back until only the tip is still inside. I feel between us, and rub your nub with a thumb, and you suddenly spring to life and buck your hips. I sense your impatience…I cannot hold back any longer and I start to fuck you in earnest. All the things you did to me with your mouth just now, and all the things you do to me because you just are, find their release in a steadily stronger motion, the primeval rhythm of love… I bend down and take you in my arms and lift your shoulders off the bed to kiss you hard, and then you lie back again and push your hips up every time I drive down into your warmth. I have my arms around you, and I feel your breasts against my skin, full and soft, and infinitely beautiful, and I wish I could kiss your nipples at the same time as your mouth…

Then I find your right hand and hold it, our fingers entwined, and I nuzzle your neck while I pick up speed, and you lie and moan softly into my mouth, a low, throaty moan…

I try to move in and out in a kind of corkscrew motion, to touch you everywhere inside, and you respond strongly. Your free hand is on my buttocks, squeezing them hard, pulling me into you, deeper, deeper… We make a wet, slapping sound together that is music to my ears.

Yes, darling, yes — you free your hand and push me over, and you look at me — are you uncertain if that’s alright? It is, I love anything you do. I smile at you and you smile back, panting, and you straddle me and push your breasts into my face. I bite your left nipple, but not so hard it will cause you discomfort, and then you are on top of me, all arms and mouth, and tongue, and breasts — soft and warm and demanding, sucking me in completely, making me feel completely one with you. You are sexier than I’d ever thought was possible, and I try to touch all of you with my hands — I wish I had eight arms, but my two arms have to make do…


I can’t keep still. I need to feel the length and thickness of you plugging me, twisting and screwing and fucking me. My moaning must make me sound like a crazed female, and my flopping breasts are probably not the sexiest jugs you’ve ever sipped from, but I can’t look to see if you’re disgusted by their weight and length now. I am devoured by the overriding need to cum with you, to ride you to a little oblivion, to feel myself shatter around your jerking cock. You fuck into me, never letting out bodies separate, and as you fill me up, I squeeze around you, heightening the sensation of fullness, and stroking the spot that makes me shiver and shake. I am confused by the depth of my desire, and by the way it seems to be taking me over. I have stopped worrying about embarrassing accidents. I have stopped worrying. All I can do is feel. And suddenly, I want to feel your buttocks in my hands, the muscles tightening as you stroke into me. I roll over, and pull you with me so you end up on top again, and I grasp your bottom in my hands and pull you into me sharply, opening my legs and raising them as high above our heads as I can. You are sweating, as am I, and that makes it easier to slide our bellies together as we fuck frantically. You move above me, in me, around me with increasing speed, ramming me deep and hard, and I raise my hips to meet your thrusts, calling your name as I feel the orgasm crowd in on me. I want this to last, and I want to come, and I don’t know what to do. I let you take me over the edge, crashing like a monumental wave, my insides turned to jelly, my legs useless, my arms flopping onto the bed. I can barely catch my breath, and you kiss my slack mouth and call me endearments in your language, and I murmur back in mine, utterly undone by the largest, longest, hardest orgasm I have ever had. I am still shivering when you pull out of me and wrap your arms around me, still breathing hard…


Oh my God, Teri…oh my… mijn lief, was it really this morning that we set eyes on each other in real life for the first time? I love the look of you lying there completely spent, smiling at me drowsily, and the look in those lovely lazy brown eyes of yours… a look that is bound to set me on fire again before long… but I have to regain my breath first… and my heart has to slow down a little, too… I’d hoped I might be allowed to steal a kiss from you — but this…

I stroke your cheek and you take my head between your hands, softly now, and we kiss, intent on each other’s presence, the urgency gone, for the moment… a sweet, long kiss… you taste sweet and I am not certain if I feel like laughing or crying or both… hhhh… my heartbeat slowly returns to something resembling its normal pace… my God…

You’re panting, too, unable to speak as yet, and you run your hands through my hair, ruffling it some more… if that’s possible, after this fuck… we’re sweat all over, but it feel just right, warm and sweet, and I revel in the feel of your naked body under mine… your breasts, your belly…

I roll onto my side, and you swing a leg over mine, and we lie looking at each other. When the throes of our orgasm subsides we grin at each other, and we talk a little, in whispers — it wouldn’t be too edifying for an outsider to listen to, but for us it sounds just right — it IS just right. Liefje… We just want to tell each other how grateful we are for this moment, how happy we are to be here together — no, nothing highfaluting, but as heartfelt as it can ever be.

Eventually we sit up, and I realise I’m very thirsty. Is there anything to drink in the room? You suggest we consult the mini bar, but I have a bottle of white wine in my room. Shall I get it? Yes — and you’d better get your other things, too…Ok. So I put on my shirt, trousers and shoes, and dash to my room on the next floor. I chuck my things into my suitcase and hurry back with my belongings.

The bottle has a screw cap, and you have found two glasses. They’re no wineglasses but neither of us could care less… you sit at the head of the bed as I pour the drinks, legs crossed, and I sit down on the bed opposite you. We’re just silent for some time, looking at each other not to miss a moment of this bliss. When we’ve drained our glasses, you put yours on the bedside table, and with a naughty grin you extend your leg and put a foot in my lap.

There must be a switch in it that connects with my cock… it comes to life immediately. I take your foot in my hands and stroke it for a moment; then I run my hands up your leg, and as I get close to your crotch, you bend over my way to kiss me. You move your bottom and remove your foot from my lap. Then you lift yourself a little and sit down on my crossed legs, your belly against mine. “Or are you too tired, young man?” you ask with a grin…

You know I’m not. My cock sticks up between us, and you rub your belly into mine, doing wonders to my erection… I take your head in my hands and kiss you hard. Teri… You know this is just the beginning; we must talk about it later. But first we have this need to attend to, this utter love that bursts out of every pore of us… You smile at me, that smile I cannot get enough of, and lift yourself high enough to position yourself over my cock; then you sink down, teasingly slowly. I feel your warmth envelop me again…


Oh my, the feel of you inside me makes me speechless, makes me want to curse — loud, nasty words that would express the fullness, the utter completion, the mind-blowing ecstasy that I’m feeling as I ride your steely length. A word slips out — “Fuck!” — and your blue eyes darken, as though you know exactly how I’m feeling, as though you can feel the fire streaking up from the depths of my being through your balls to the crown of your erection that kisses my womb with each thrust you make up inside me. I want you so much it’s a kind of madness, an insanity that makes my mouth water and my pussy weep and tremble around you. I don’t want to cum just yet…it’s too soon, I haven’t savoured the feel enough; I haven’t felt the slide of you against my most sensitive spots enough; I haven’t ridden you enough.

I want to go faster, but I can’t seem to go fast enough to give me the satisfaction I seek. I go harder, hoping it touches the ache I feel growing inside me. We grunt together as I slam myself on your hard cock, jerking it, fucking you, wanting more than I know how to express in words or actions. Another word escapes — “Shit!” — as I feel the wave rising, rising, ever rising to engulf me. It’s fire and ice, together raising my heart rate, making my hands tremble, making my body weak even as my ride grows stronger, so that I must cling to your shoulders, and I cannot feel the bruising strength of your hands grasping my hips and driving me down onto you. I cannot feel your mouth ravaging mine, your lips eating at me, your teeth and tongue making a meal of mine. I can only feel the cresting wave, holding itself at the top, building, building, building. My legs burn, my lungs burn…I am burning up with heat and lust and love, and when you beg me to open my eyes — when had I closed them? — and look at you, I drag them open and see all the same things in your face that I’m sure are in my own.

You call out to me — “Teri…liefje!” — and bury your face in the side of my neck, ramming me, taking me, owning me, and I never want this rapture to end. You cry out as the wave crashes again, tumbling and roaring and swallowing me. I hear the words — “Oh God! Oh fuck! Oh darling!” — and I echo them in my head, because my mouth is dry, and my heart is pounding, and I can barely think. I cum and cum and cum, and your own orgasm seems to go on forever as well. You cannot seem to stop ramming me, and suddenly I feel a flood that soaks us both and the sheets beneath us. I am cumming again….oh God, help me! I can’t stop! Oh this is too much! Oh God…

You’re calling me, and I open my eyes. “Liefje?” There’s uncertainty in your voice. What happened? We’re lying together next to each other, and you look worried. You ask if I’m okay, and I smile an affirmative. I feel weak and helpless, and yet so full, so complete, so satisfied that I don’t know how to explain it. I manage to say I’m okay, and you seem reassured. The worry dissipates, and you trail tender kisses all over my face. You ask if that happens often, and when I ask what happened, you tell me I passed out, after I squirted all over us and the bed. I can feel myself blushing, and I shake my head. It’s never happened to me before, but somehow it makes sense that it happened this time. With you. Here.

I turn my head and see the clock. It’s well past midnight, and breakfast before the first session is at 8. I remind you of that fact, and you smile at me, and kiss me, as though to shut me up. The kiss is deep and long and makes us both breathless. I laugh when you let me up for air, because I know exactly how you’re feeling. No talk of anything but us tonight, no thinking about work or anything but us…


There’s something right with my head, but I couldn’t for the life of me describe what it is or how it feels, and I’m not sure I would recognise myself in a mirror. My cheeks seem to be different — I must be all smiles, starry-eyed, and you are all smiles, too, and your eyes look lazily into mine, dark, deep, happy…

I can’t remember ever having felt so completely satisfied, so completely at peace with myself and the world…

“It’s Your Love” sings through my head: all I gotta do is say your sweet name… Teri, sweet Teri…

I put my arms around you and hug you close, and you snuggle up against me. Never mind the wet patch — the room maid will have to deal with that tomorrow. I run my tongue along your lips and whisper to you how happy I am. It’s late — very late, but I know you’re a real night owl, and I don’t think I could sleep now, with your body so close, your breathing in my ears, the room heavy with your scent, the mingled smells of our arousal…

I’m not eighteen any more, but dash it all, I feel myself get hard again. What are you doing to me, girl? You look at me as if you know only too well, and you rub your belly against me, smiling as you bite my earlobe.

I find your mouth again, and you slide your tongue into mine, softly, slowly this time. We both know we cannot repeat what we just did, not tonight. Tomorrow — but the present is here, and you are here, in my arms, where I want you most, and while we kiss you open your legs for me, drawing me into you like a magnet. So good…wet, warm, close…

June 2018
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