I remember how my legs were
shaking, and I had butterflies in my stomach as we walked to sit down with our
drinks. Steve was walking behind me, checking out my figure. I could feel his
gaze wonder from the back of my head, taking in the long red hair, down to my
waist and onto my shapely ass and legs, accented by high heels, taking in all
the curves and wondering what kind of panties I had on under. He probably had
already noticed that I wasn’t wearing a bra under my shirt. All I could think
of was to keep walking, putting one foot in front of the other, extremely
nervous the whole time until we arrived to a comfy looking sofa and sat down in
the corner. One drink, and I could feel his gaze penetrating me, seeing into me
in a way that no one else has. Two drinks, a few jokes, some basic background
questions and answers later, I couldn’t wait to get out of there and back to
his. ‘What say you’, he suggested, finally, ‘I only live a couple of blocks
away’. How convenient! Let’s go.
Five minutes later, we were in
the lift together going up to his flat. Standing so close to him, I could smell
him, I could feel how much I wanted it but the lift stopped, he ushered me into
his flat, and offered me a drink. I perched on the corner of the sofa still
maintaining an air of nonchalance when he suddenly kissed me. He pushed me down
on to the sofa, and I didn’t resist. I let him undress me, wrapped my arms
around him and let him lead me to the bed, drinks forgotten on the counter. The
rest of the evening was blurry; I remember we had fantastic sex, crazy and wild
in several positions, with my legs over his shoulders at one point and him deep
inside of me, his hands all over my body. I came strongly a few times, and
after he orgasmed as well we fell back down and passed out, exhausted and
enchanted, out of breath in each other’s arms. His hands caressed me softly,
over my back, tracing the curves of my body, and I could feel him getting hard
again. He reached my hand down and I stroked him for a bit before taking him
into my mouth until he came again. He tasted sweet.
It was then time for me to go, and I remember running home in
the night, all the thirty city blocks that separated us at the time, I was
desperate to hold on to the smell of him on my body and over my hands. I was
clenching my fist so tight because that was the hand I had used earlier to
reach down when he was in me from behind, I touched myself and I touched him,
the precious smell of his sweat, my wetness and the condom intoxicating me
every time I brought it up to my face. I finally arrived home to find my
roommate there, I was too excited to sleep but couldn’t face talking to people
so I went to my room and replayed the events of the night, thinking of him,
dreaming of seeing him again. The smells and sensations faded but the smile
stayed on my face throughout the night.
That took a month. He kept
chatting to me online and texting me, talking to me and promising to see me
soon, but not making any concrete plans. Then one day I asked him specifically
why he won’t see me, to which he said what I’ve come to expect – that I’m a
nice girl who looks like she’s looking for a boyfriend, and he’s not the right
guy for me. I heard that one before, and I wasn’t going to take it this time.
He then told me straight out that he was into group sex, multiple partners, and
didn’t believe in monogamy. He was very honest and open about it, and at that
point I liked him so much that all I could say was, ‘Try me.” Which he did,
when he took me to this exclusive private sex party that same Friday night.
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