Hands

I remember our first date, when L mentioned he was good with his hands.

We were brought together by a shared love of music and our shared sense of humour. He was by no means rich, and had a day job he hated. As both a writer and an artist, was creative and passionate. I was 21 and he was 34, and he had a kind of old school charm and dominance to him that I found irresistible. At the same time, he was very intense and this made me nervous. On our first date he held my hand and asked permission to kiss me in public. He held open doors and gave me his gloves. I remember noticing that he had big hands and I would spend a long time studying them as he told funny stories. I would imagine him touching me. I think he knew I wanted him.

He was unconventional in his approach and we would talk about how we wished we both lived in another time zone. He suggested that it would be fun to write letters to each other so we agreed. His letters would be poetic and deep. He would tell me that he would want to feel my hair through his fingers and to touch my body. He had a way with words. He wanted to know my fantasies. Of course, I divulged and indulged in these. After a few letter exchanges, I told him that I wanted to know what it would be like to be his submissive. He was intrigued by this idea and I teased him to no end with my submissive desires.

When I finally visited his apartment he had his room lit by candlelight. As soon as I came in, he sat me on his knee and asked me if I wanted to explore the role of submissive while he stroked my leg. He told me he enjoyed reading my letters, and wanted to know what things I had thought about when I read his. Immediately I blushed and turned shy. I was totally out of my comfort zone.

He quickly managed to find his way up his skirt and noticed the top lace part of my stockings that were showing. "I like these.." He said. He continued to stroke and tease. I thanked him and smiled as he put his hand up my skirt and explored, I was sat on his lap and could feel him getting hard. I was getting excited too.

For L, the most sacred goal was to please me. He had made this clear from the moment we met. He sat me down on the bed and got me to spread my legs and lift my skirt. He took my underwear down to my ankle; I knew that he could feel how wet my thong was. With one hand, he placed two fingers very deep inside me.

He hooked 2 fingers around so that my g spot felt pressure. He held it there and gave me the most piercing glare as he went down on me, holding his fingers in place and sucking my clit. I've never before felt as if I could cum instantly, but this time was different. I moaned a little and without warning he began to fuck me with his fingers, hard and fast. It was like he was drilling me. I have never felt anything so intense in my life.

I couldn't help but squeal as he finger fucked me like a machine and didn't tire. I felt the most deep pressure as I gripped the bed and came like I never have before. I squealed and felt myself gush. A little at first, then a lot, until I realised that I was squirting all over L's hand. I had never done that before. He was covered in it, and so were his sheets... a big gush of my own pussy juices. He watched me as he worked his fingers over my clit and pussy, making me cum multiple times. I felt the most powerful contractions in my vagina, over and over. I reached new levels of pleasure through his touch; he knew exactly what buttons to press and how to satisfy me without me ever having to communicate it.

This was the start of a sexual encounter I would never forget and, although I felt a little embarrassed about the mess I had made, I finally fully understood what L meant when he said that he was good with his hands.