One Man's Agony

This is a recap of an emotional upheaval and sexual awakening of a degrading mind of an older gent. One month after my seventieth birthday the fingers on my keyboard reached out to a writer on Literotica.

A nagging feeling that had persisted for some dozen years finally pushed its way to the forefront of this male who was sorting out a single life after the death of his wife of thirty-two years.

That nasty big C entered her being and slowly over a period of twelve months took over and finally caused her to rise and meet her maker.

Two and a half years of pondering why the fantasy of yahoo chat rooms, Literotica sensual and sexual stories, invading my mind and illuminating my imagination surfaced like a submarine breaking water.

Author extraordinaire using a pen name that seemed to use magical enhancement, this kitten of sexual stroking, her words acting like a leash leading a stray into her world of wonderment.

English like that of a ringing big ben, currents of a flowing Thames River, but a cozy relaxing village hidden in a countryside her charm invaded my mind and swept me into a vortex of sensual awakening.

Weekly, turned to daily, and some days multiply times her exchange of words, with instant responses, all under the idea that being a pen pal was the way to expand that sexual appetite.

Sexual Kitten, words gorgeous arousing words is her game. She was adorable using sayings, verbs, nouns, explicit explanations of how sex was the elixir of wonderment. Leading and dominating into a league seriously sexual and sensual, one of the best seducers I had ever encountered.

Pity a beautiful woman only seen through the texts and emails that spanned the wide pond known as the Atlantic Ocean. A siren, wild, unruly, unmanageable, and dangerous as the burning embers of hell, this wildcat, used our exchanges to enhance her life well keeping mine dangling wanting more.

Imagining her in the sleep attire of just panties and chest hugging vest, hair all tussled, wild looking after sleep did nothing for my concentration of typing the responses with these thoughts flashing around my mind behind my eyes as if they were a moving picture playing on a big screen.

My fingers sometimes are not connected to my brain, a total idiot at times like this time a very good connection with a woman who could raise a limp member to a throbbing rising rigid column. With that image of swaying cheeks in flimsy panties I asked for a pair.

Third world war would be like a husband-and-wife banter compared to the explosion this created, and the insult that came my way was enough for me to curse the term pen pal, to have me accused of purchasing such items online, the blackness that ebbed through me with thundering vibrations, if not so insecure deep down under all my bravado of typing words, the experience ended and I screwed up again ending up alone.

She the sexiest kitten known at least in my mind for a year, was beautiful, hard to describe my vision, more beautiful than a hummingbird at a feeder, the wisps of a butterfly floating aimlessly, a sunset with its brilliant oranges, purples, blues all blending together, eyes as blue as the sea, lips full, pouting. Her blonde hair sliding from side to side with each movement of her head. A laugh so deep like the rumbling of an empty stomach, visions from the imagination of a tempered male.

From words that appeared on my screen an inner fire burned so bright that the feelings were hard to resist but now a bit longer than a year later, it felt like a succubus had drawn this male for her use and abuse and left him drained.

March madness had come and gone, and with it the dawning of a new month, one last sleep, one last dream perhaps, was I that unsuspecting male the one that a sexy woman would not do anything to scare me away or make me reticent to her charm.

As part of the male race, was that fickle emotion so paramount that I could be lead astray easily, a sucker for any female that actually takes a shine to me. The woman in my mind going about her business in a carefree, happy go lucky manner, was the lesson of how to bend a man, me, to her will, the entranced moment before sleep.

She acted with confidence, but without cocky or unapproachable air. Her posture, amazing, a smile that seduced without shame, an aura that shone making men feel like a weak gender. An accidental bump, a giggle, the tilt of her head just so, a smile holding eye contact a fraction of a second longer than normal. The warm touch of her hand on my arm then slowly drawing it away. Amazing results burning deeper inside.

Lost in a daze, the oozing confidence and wonder she created as her haunting and sexual chemistry took, as it was increasing her essence at my expense. I the man without control over my urges, my need to be wanted and loved, to be made to feel special, she is using this to prove how weaker I was in her presence, each passing minute, hour a whole night making it impossible to resist her.

In a daze that lost feeling of warmth returned creeping up from the tip of my toes to my crotch. The veins and arteries felt like liquid honey, sweet and heavy. Her smile again more charming than that of an angel, yet behind her blue eyes was flashes of anger, than as she turned full attention back to me it was pure adulterated love.

My mind seemed to drift away an emptiness, filled with fluffy clouds, the desire to be owned by her, spend an eternity with this perfect creature, my search the pathetic lifelong adventure was over all I wanted, nothing else mattered.

She was an angel who would love me, care for me, soothe me protect me in the dark make me the most fulfilled and luckiest man on earth. Her deep blue eyes reflecting back my essence, those pouting lips smiling, was the love boomeranging back or was I lost in her circle. Everything I longed for, ached for, searched for, was in her eyes, those deep beautiful offerings of the world, pure beyond compare.

Each lonely hour lived, every desperate act of need, all my idiotic foolish comments, all forgiven, the answer to everything, all better with the acceptance of her as the one I loved.

I felt the impossible surge of longing, lust, and passion, promises of wild abandon and naked delights, the hunger and satisfaction of consummation of two people enjoying the fruits of passionate embrace.

Woken to the thumping of a base drum my clock radio flashing the time, the wet sheet sticking to me, the realization it was April Fools, as the memory faded like the dream it was, only the Literotica part left behind.