Whales Tale

Driving into Anchorage from Wasilla I saw the temperature gauge on my car drop steadily from 30 to 26, where it seems to have stabilized for the time being. A typical Alaska night, nearly a full moon was illuminating the stark trees and barren brown earth covered with a frosty coating that was awaiting snow. I was taking my time, not wanting to get into an accident if some black ice popped up on the road. It was 30 minutes from my place to the Anchorage where I was meeting Ken for the first time.

I met Ken through an adult web site that specialized in connecting men and women that had physical, as well as emotional needs. My primary goal is to find that special person that matches my sexual appetite and predilections, and is also a gentleman. I look forward to having that one special man in my life that loves spending time with me in and out of the bed. However, most of the nice looking guys that I am meeting on the site are married and looking for something missing in their sex life. I have had a few dates with some of them, and have been intimate with some as well. I find the sex to be very satisfying, but in the end they will go home to their wife and I will go home to an empty house.

As I have often done over the past few weeks, I find my thoughts drifting toward Ken. His pictures were wonderful and our emails and chats combined a bit of flirting with some sexy conversations about things we might do together. There was charisma that emanated from our online conversations, revealing his charm and quick wit. Several times, in different ways, he said he was an "ass man" and that I had the perfect ass. Who was I to argue?

Early in our online conversations he confided that his sex life with his wife had been virtually non-existent for the past few years. Like most couples, they had an active sex life with regular romps for the first couple of years of their relationship. But, as is often the case, marriage produces children, both spouses are working, the kids take up all of the extra energy, and there is nothing left for the bedroom. Ken said he felt like the few times that he and his wife did have sex, it seemed more like completing a chore list with his betrothed than enjoying moments of passion. I envisioned his wife going through the weekly rituals like a checklist: wash laundry (check), shop for groceries (check), do dishes (check), sex with husband (check), all very mechanical.

I also shared with Ken my past relationship. Recently single, I had been with Alvin for 17 years. It started off great and ended with the last five years being unappreciated and unloved. How could a man prefer porn to sex with a hot blooded blond in the bed right next to him? I wanted to feel appreciated, desirable, needed, wanted, cared for, loved. He wanted to watch people screwing on the internet and wack his pud. I finally left him and began my search for the deep intimacy that has been withheld from my life. Once I made the separation, I wondered why it had taken me so long.

Immediately after posting a few photos of my (apparently) spectacular ass, I have been flooded with email requests for dates from many men. If I think there is some potential after a few emails, and maybe a chat session or two, I will meet them. Sometimes it ends after a first meeting, realizing the connection just isn't there. And, on a few occasions, it can lead to more. In addition to Ken, I have another married man that I see from time to time. Like Ken, this fellow has a wife and kids and is not interested in breaking up the family. But we do enjoy our time together, as infrequent as it is.

Although I am in my 50's I have a body of 30 year old (well maybe late 30's). I have kept fit, I watch what I eat and have not let the pounds pile on as so many of my friends have. I like being fit, I like being desirable. I hold 140 lbs on my 5 ft 6 in frame quite well. I have long blond hair, a curvy figure with large natural breasts and a spunky, independent attitude. What is there not to like? (That, my dear, is a rhetorical question.)

Ken is a young 40 and very fit. He is 6 ft 1 inch tall, 200 lbs, and the pictures show a solid firm man with a flat hard stomach, nice biceps, thick pecs, and broad shoulders. One of Ken's best features is his eyes. He has these piercing blue eyes that seem to be looking right into your soul. I know that sounds corny, but if you saw his photo you would know what I mean. Short brown hear, neatly trimmed, a bit of mischievous smile, a nose a Roman gladiator would die for. He was the complete package.

Speaking of packages, he sent me a picture of his manhood when fully erect. He is obviously quite proud of his "equipment," sending me a photo with his introduction. And, if you saw this thing, you would know why. It is thick, circumcised, at least 8 inches long, and with just a hint of a bend to it to keep things interesting. It looks mouthwatering delicious. The picture shows him holding his erection in his hand, offering an accurate reference to confirm its length and girth. Needless to say, I was immediately attracted to him physically. Or at least I was attracted to his penis.

I sent him a few private photos that I didn't post to the site, including one that shows my neatly trimmed Mons over my clean-shaven labia. I could feel his erection through the internet when he responded to that one. He told me how he would like to taste me, tracing his tongue along my lips and sucking on my clitoris until I crumbled in orgasmic bliss. He definitely gives good chat, and his interest left me a little wet every time I thought about those words.

As I approached Anchorage, I was becoming filled with nervousness and a little trepidation. It is always this way when I meet a new man in person for the first time. Ken had been asking me out for drinks for the past few weeks and with no other single prospects I succumbed to his pleas. I suggested we meet at the Whale's Tail in the Captain Cook Hotel. The Captain Cook is the nicest hotel in the state. I love the atmosphere at the Whale's Tail. Up until a few years ago it was a sandwich shop, before it was converted to a wine bar. When you walk in you immediately feel the elegance; a marble-topped bar, polished hardwood everywhere, back lit stained glass panels behind the bar, and comfy leather chairs and couches by the fireplace. You feel the class and sophistication oozing from the walls when you walk in.

I parked in the parking structure next to the Captain Cook. Downtown Anchorage in winter can be a bit breezy, creating a "wind chill factor" that can drop the perceived temperature 10 degrees or more. I had on my form fitting blue jeans (need to accent my fantastic ass), a buttoned blouse (with the top two buttons left asunder), calf-high boots, and my waist-high winter jacket. The jacket was keeping my top warm, but my legs were feeling the cold as I walked up the two flights of stairs to the street level and then across the short street to the hotel entrance.

When I walked into the Whale's Tail, Ken was already there, I recognized him immediately from his photos. He was sitting off to the side waiting for my arrival. Walking up to him, I apologized for being a smidge late. He stood quickly and gave a warm hug, telling me he had been eying a table in the back. Even through his jacket I could feel he was every bit as firm and powerful as his photos proclaimed. Even in that brief hug, I could start to feel that familiar tingle start in my belly, signaling to the rest of my reproductive system that I was very interested in more than just one hug. I followed him to the table, appreciating his body as we wove through the bar. He had a natural economy in his body motion that signaled confidence, but not arrogance. It was sexy, very sexy.

We each ordered a glass of the house white and settled in a bit. When I removed my jacket I noticed that Ken was appreciating my figure. Like in the emails and chats we had, I found Ken to be a good conversationalist. With the presidential election just behind us, we chatted a bit about the results, careful to not tread near the politics and preferring to remain more in line with the spectacle. He seemed to have an endless list of topics. "If you could change your name, what would you change it to?" "If you could try out any job for one week, what job would you choose to try?" "What is something that you've never done but would like to try?" These questions easily spun into new areas of conversation. Ken was witty at times, but also knew when to dial it back when more earnest tones in the conversation were warranted. At times, Ken would touch my hand or my arm to emphasize a point he was making. Each touch sent a pleasant little electric shock through my body and I could feel my desire growing for this man. I enjoyed his company. And, I was now starting to think about enjoying maybe a little more than just good conversation.

As we finished our second glass of wine I realized that an hour had passed imperceptibly. Ken noticed me looking at the time and asked if I wanted to go down the street to Darwin's Theory. I told him I though it was a bit of "Dive Bar." Ken agreed that it can be a bit loud and raucous there at times, but he always felt like he was at home when he went there. His argument was compelling, I was ready to move on and I did not want the evening to end yet, so we set off on the chilly 5 minute walk.

I mentioned that it was cold. Ken engulfed my hands with his as we stepped out into the street and said he would do whatever was needed to keep me warm. My mind wandered a bit on that delicious comment as I thanked him for his concern. We held hands on the way over. I was enjoying his touch. His hands seemed to be supernaturally warm. Within a block I could feel cold trying to strip the warmth from my body, but it was not enough to overcome the heat I was generating.

As expected for a Saturday night, Darwin's Theory was crowed. There was only one seat and it was at the bar. Ken guided me to the stool, helped me out of my jacket, and stood just behind me after I edged onto the seat. Our conversation continued as we ordered beers and absorbed the atmosphere. Ken spoke close to my ear to overcome the noise, and then he would lean into me when I spoke. The close contact between us continued to elevate my level of excitement. At times when he leaned in to listen, I could feel his semi-hard erection through his pants as he pressed against my thigh. At one point he reached up and gave my shoulders a brief massage, giving me a tingling sensation that traveled down my back and settled into my loins with a growing ferocity. The alcohol was loosening any of my remaining inhibitions and I found myself wanting to find a way for Ken and I to continue our conversation alone.

Ken needed to leave at 10, so we walked me back to my car. Walking outside he now held me close, he said it was to keep me warm. When we were waiting to cross the street, he pulled me in close and we kissed for the first time. He was tentative at first, then realizing I would not object, we began to explore each others tongues. I could taste the beer he drank, it was strangely intoxicating. With both of my hands on his shoulders, his hands came around behind me as we continued our kiss, one hand on my back and one falling to my ass. As he pressed his body to mine, and I to his, I could feel his erection pressing into my stomach through my coat. As his hand caressed my ass, I let one of my hands drop to his feel his manhood stretching the fabric of his jeans. He pressed his groin back against my touch, letting me know that he also wanted more. I am not certain how long we kissed, and fondled, and held each other; but suddenly we became aware that there was another couple approaching so we separated and continued across the street.

We arrived at my car in the lower level of the parking structure, the temperature felt like it had dropped another few degrees outside, but my temperature was climbing. Ken pulled me in again for another long kiss as I stood by my car. He suggested that he sit in the car with me to keep me warm until the car had warmed up. I gave him another long sensual kiss and told him that he was fine gentleman and no lady should refuse such gallantry.

I opened the driver's side door, reached in and started the car, then reached back and popped the door locks. Without saying a word, I closed the driver car door and opened the back door and climbed into the back seat. Ken slid in beside me and closed the door. We resumed kissing, but not our hands were exploring each other under out coats. Ken tentatively put on hand behind me and then let the other wander along my waist and under my blouse. I was expecting a cold hand to touch my bare stomach, but it was surprisingly warm. His large calloused hand softly caressed by belly, working his way up to my bra.

Ken cupped each breast and let his thumb trace each nipple. He carefully slide me down along the seat, taking a position over me while supporting his weight with his other arm, sensing that he did not want me to feel trapped or confined. One of my hands drifted up under his shirt, feeling his tight abs, tracing along the ridges of his obliques, and reaching up further to gently pinch the nipple on his firm pec. Then I traced back down the other side of his abs to his groin, feeling his erection through the fabric in his levis.

We had been enjoying each other for only a few minutes, but already the car was heating up, partly from the hot air from the vents and partly from the heat we were generating. It was hard to know which was contributing more, but neither did we care.

Ken was not rubbing my pussy through my pants. Each stroke was sending shivers through me. I wanted to feel his touch directly and reached down and unbuttoned my pants to allow him complete access to my womanhood. His hand slid down over my pubis and his finger slid past my clitoris into my folds. His touch was beginning to build me toward orgasm and I breathed into him between kisses to keep rubbing. I surged up to meet his finger is he stroked my labia and used his fingers to rub my button. Then, sensing I was reaching an orgasm, he increased his pace, rubbing my clit in small circles while pressing it agains my pubic bone. My orgasm came in a flood as I clamped my legs around his hand and bucked in the seat like a bronco. There are orgasms, and there are ORGASMS, this was an ORGASM. I was lost in heavenly surrender, giving myself over completely to the symphonic rush.

I continued to kiss Ken as I felt that indescribable post-orgasmic calm after the storm. I reached for his belt as I started to shed my pants and underwear. I needed him inside me. Ken received the signal and quickly unzipped his pants and pulled them down with his underwear, leaving them at his knees. His erection was fantastic. Thick, long, and hard. The three cornerstones to any penis foundation.

Naked now from the waist down, I straddled Ken, reached down and guided his manhood into me. I slowly settled down to his lab, giving me time to accommodate his member and enjoying the feeling of fullness he was offering. I slowly began to grind against him, rubbing my clit into his groin and feeling him deep inside me. Ken had has hands on each of my breasts, still encased in my lacy bra, tracing and pinching my nipples as I rhythmically pressed into him. Wanting to feel him slide in and out of my wetness, I would rise up and down, stroking him with my vaginal walls before settling back in for another grind.

I could feel the crescendo of another orgasm building inside. I could also sense that Ken was near climax. I leaned forward and whispered into his hear "I want you to cum inside me." Our tempo increased, Ken's thrusts were reaching parts of my vagina that may never have been touched by a man. I could feel Ken release into me as I began my climax, we pressed into each other as our orgasms carried us into bliss.

As we came down, we held each other, kissing and panting. I felt Ken begin to soften inside of me as the reality of what we had just done was settling in to my consciousness. I lifted myself of Ken's lap and settled beside him as I fumbled for my pants and underwear. We spent a few more moment's kissing, letting our tongues say goodbye, for now. Then, with a promise to meet again next weekend, this time in a hotel room, we parted.