I remember the first time I was exposed to this world. I was 20, and in my 2nd year of college, majoring in aviation technology. I had been studying my brains out for a paper when I decided to take a break and have some good naughty fun online. I took out the notebook and was goofing off in the chat rooms for a bit. I had a few women I chatted with from time to time, even cybered with a few, but the ones in my area weren't on, so I surfed a bit, checking some of the naughtier chat rooms. I took a break for a moment and went to the soda machines in my dorm, and when i came back, I had a few instant messages on the screen. Most were from bots, but one had 5 words on it that intrigued me... "ever been a sex slave?" this one said. I was curious, so I pulled up the profile. It was blank, just age, sex and marital status was filled out. 37, female, single. No URLs or anything, so it didn't look like I bot, so I answered.
"Not unless you count the time my ex girlfriend tied me to a chair and gave me a hummer", I replied. There was a brief moment when I thought I was wasting my time, but then the screen answered with "Did you like being tied up?" We chatted for close to an hour, and she asked me loads of questions about past sexual experiences, what I found attractive sexually, and if I loved oral sex, specifically, blow jobs. She told me that she loved young men because they came sooooo much and had the ability to cum a few times a day easily. I was getting hard thinking of the conversation and where it might lead. She asked if we could chat again, and I eagerly replied that I would.
Over the next couple of weeks she and I continued our exploration of each other. She was 37, loved to play tennis, enjoyed skiing, and had a 30' boat she had just put into storage. She was a sun worshipper, and it seemed to me that she was a woman of leisure. She kept herself fit, and told me that she was rather tall and had short strawberry blonde hair. Since I hadn't seen a picture of her yet, I was holding my expectations in check, but the mental image I had already was very nice. After about two weeks of chatting, she started asking rather embarassing sexual questions, but I answered truthfully. "Have you ever tasted your precum when you masturbate?" was one. I told her after a moment's hesitation that I had. "Did you like it?" was the next. I told her even though the thought kind of repulsed me at first, I was curious and did taste it. Then she asked if I had ever tasted my own cum before, either from masturbating, kissing a woman after getting a blowjob, or going down on a woman after I had fucked her. I told her yes, on two counts, and that I didn't mind- the women seemed to love having me go down on them after I came, but usually I wore a condom and didn't have an opportunity to 'eat a cream pie'... but I had tasted my cum from my fingers after masturbating (something I was a little ashamed to admit, but I liked doing it) and I had tasted a little of my cum after kissing a woman who gave me a great blowjob once.
She seemed fascinated with my responses and asked if we could meet sometime. She flattered me by telling me how cute but rugged I was in my photos I had on MySpace, and that double whammy made me even more eager to meet her. It turned out she lived less than an hour's drive from my dorm, and she wanted me to go to her summer house to meet her. She was closing it up and wanted "a man's help". I agreed to meet her at a popular restaurant near her place so we could have lunch. It was then she sent me a photo of what she looked like. She wasn't kidding- she was very tall and slender, and reminded me of that woman on CSI, the redhead, but she didn't look so severe- her face was softer and not as angular, and her eyes held a certain sparkle to them, like she got the joke before anyone else did. I was enraptured. Her photo was her on the boat, wearing a bikini- something I rarely see women over the age of 25 in... this woman was a definite MILF. We would meet next weekend.
The next week passed by in a flash, and yet it dragged. She told me her name was Johanna, and that she was REALLY looking forwards to meeting with me. I was also instructed NOT to masturbate or have any orgasms for the following week. Every night when I went to bed, I wanted to, images of her dancing through my mind in an endless x-rated video. I was so hyped up that the days were a blur- but the nights crept by. I hadn't seen her online the whole week and a part of me was scared that she wouldn't show. Maybe she had lost interest. Finally, Saturday morning arrived, I checked my messages and there was a two word message from her. Twelve noon. I packed my discreet 'overnight' bag in my car, and after scrubbing myself clean, picking out my nicest casual clothes, I was off. Finding the restaurant was easy enough, and I made it with a good 20 minutes to spare. I parked, wondering if I should wait outside, or get a table for us. I decided to wait for at the bar, where I could see the entrance. Sipping a Capt. Morgan's and Coke, I fidgeted, half watching the television above the bar but mostly watching the door. At two minutes of, she arrived.
To say Johanna looked 'beautiful' would be like calling DaVinci a 'good drawer'. Words didn't do her justice. One might as well draw music, sculpt the wind, or paint a poem. Matter of fact, there was only one word that immediately came to mind when she took off her sunglasses and I saw her eyes in person, and that was 'fey'. They were playful, yet mysterious... filled with child like glee but definitely in control. She smiled at me when she saw me, and walked towards me with a confident stride. I introduced myself and took her hand and kissed it. She grinned, like a kid on Christmas morning finding exactly what she wanted under the tree. Little did I know how apt that analogy would be.
Soon, we were shown to a table and, being the gentleman (and wanting to make a good impression) held her chair out for her. Lunch passed by in a blur- I didn't even remember ordering, and barely recalled eating. We talked of light matters, a few deep questions thrown in here and there- but we explored each other over the course of an hour or so... both of us liking what we found. After lunch, we had a light drink and told each other little stories of our childhoods. I felt a little out of my league, but Johanna was completely at ease. It rubbed off on me as well, or maybe it was the alcohol, but I doubt it... after all, I had only had two drinks in nearly 90 minutes on a lunch date, and I had drunk quite a bit more in the past with no ill effects, but I certainly didn't want to make a fool of myself. I started milking the last half of my drink.
When Johanna asked if I was ready to give her a hand at the house, I waved the waitress over and took care of the charges, then after I pulled Johanna's chair out again, she suprised me by slipping her arm into mine as we walked outside into the crisp fall air. I walked her to her car and she told me to get in, that it was okay to leave my car here for awhile. She drove one of those Porsche SUVs, an elegant silver one. I felt ashamed of the non-descript die cast hunk of metal I called a car, feeling once again out of my league. She didn't seem to be the 'show off' type as far as material things, though- she just knew what she liked. I felt a little more at ease.
After a few minutes, we found ourselves on a dirt road that wound through the woods for at least a quarter mile. I commented that you'd think the town would have had it paved by now, and she kind of laughed and said "Why would they? I can't name many towns that would pave a residential driveway... but I may have gravel laid down on it next year- it gets quite muddy in the spring." I was flabbergasted, and about to be full out astonished in a moment. The trees parted, giving view to a commanding view of the lake, with a 'summer home' larger than my dorm. There was a field perhaps half the size of the quad to one side, with a wrought iron handrail leading over the edge down to the water. When we parked, I could see them going about 30 feet to a dock that would have held a half dozen boats easily, although there was none there at the moment. Then, I remembered she had just had hers put into storage. The house was a blend of log cabin and contemporary, with glass from floor to cathedral ceiling in the immense living room I saw as we entered. Johanna gave me the grand tour, and I half wondered that if this was her 'summer house', how would her regualr home look? As if reading my mind, she answered my unspoken question.
"My home is actually a bit smaller than this- not as much land... I only go back to the city during the summer for parties and such, but I do like to entertain from time to time. I found this at a fairly reasonable price... practically available for the asking." She grinned at me with those fey eyes and said "But I might find a few reasons to stay later in the season this year..."
We did some of the usual things people do when closing up a summer home. Taking some of the furniture off the deck and putting it in the storage shed, taking the outdoor plants inside, the usual things. After about an hour of getting some work done, she noticed my khakis were a little dirty, probably from taking the dock hardware up to the shed. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a pair of flannel nightpants and a matching top. She smiled and took my hand, leading me to the bathroom.
Johanna turned on the shower, which was big enough to fit 4 people in there without squeezing, and had 2 showerheads at opposing walls. There were mirrors and hanging plants everywhere in the bathroom, as well as a long countertop with two sinks, as well as a bidet, which I had heard of but never saw before. She grinned and told me to undress, and she began to do the same. Within moments we were both naked, and we stepped into the shower together. At first, I began to move towards her and caress that magnificent body, but she shook her head and playfully pushed me away, telling me to wash myself so we could watch each other. I was being tortured- I wanted to kiss and run my hands over every inch of her- my erection was aching the yearning was so strong. Her pubic hair was cut in that little 'landing strip' cut that drives me wild, watching the rivers of soap cascading down her long, lean legs. She ran her fingertips over her breasts, her strawberry-like nipples puffy with excitement. We watched each other rinse our bodies and turned the shower off, and again, I started to come close to her, and she wagged her finger back and forth to say 'not yet'...
