After more time than he could care to remember, he had finally met a real woman whom he found extremely physically attractive.
After the usual round of dating and getting to know each other, his interest in this smooth, olive skinned lady of fascinating, hybrid background was at great and unprecedented heights.
She had really piqued his interest in matters sexual without saying a great deal that was too explicit to put any literal translation to, or to highlight what he might expect from this lady - lady being the operative word, he mused - or exactly what his preferences were.
He had always been a leg man, and one of the few things he did know about her unexplored body, at this stage, was that she really did have exceptionally long and voluptuous thighs - ham thighs a well known art critic would have described them as. Milky smooth olive skin on them, he could fondly recall as he momentarily closed his eyes at traffic lights on his way to pick her up. He recalled his fingers tracing her thighs up to what was obviously an almost G string on their most recent parting. Fabulous legs, but possibly not much else his pessimistic nature thought rounding the final corner to her southern suburban house.
As he rang the doorbell he wondered what turn of events tonight might bring. His thoughts were interrupted by her appearance and wide enthusiastic smile of greeting.
Little did he realise that she had been thinking similar thoughts to him. She liked well hung men and had tried to imagine what his equipment might be like. She had even gone to the trouble of speculating about it on the telephone to one her intimate girlfriends. Despite that her pessimistic nature had prepared her for a disappointment as had happened so often in the past.
A few hours later, back at his inner city apartment after a very pleasant summer nights meal of seafood, in a well known open air restaurant, washed down with two bottles of white wine, his thoughts were of little else but having her. The ache in his groin was almost painful.
She smiled at him, sitting alongside him on the couch, sipping a port, seeming to read his thoughts. ‘How bad do you want to fuck me?’
He smiled back with as much aplomb as he could muster. ‘Making love sounds better, I think? Eh?’
‘You haven’t answered me. We can do both if you like though. But first, I want to know how badly you want me. Its important to me. I like to be wanted.’
‘Like you wouldn’t believe. Feel this.’, he said, boldly taking her free hand and placing it on his half erection.
‘I hoped you would be bigger than that. You disappoint me.’
Not in the least threatened by her retort he responded by starting to undress her. He quickly discovered, with her full cooperation he mused, that all she had worn under her summer skirt and blouse was a generous dash of exotic perfume and an even smaller black G string than he imagined even existed.
‘Now you,’ she said backing away and turning so that he could could savour for the first time the cheeks of her generous (and as he later learnt 44”) arse. As he stripped down to his suntan and briefs which he worn especially for this moment, hoping it would happen tonight, he could not take his eyes off her magnificent arse. Her G string deliberately left her cheeks totally exposed to his gaze, as the string of it disappeared between her cheeks, and the high heels she wore highlighted the effect of her voluptuous thighs and arse even more.
She was very proud of her well developed arse and without flaunting it over obviously, was very aware of the effect it could have on men.
He had never seen an arse as round and perfectly formed, with not a trace of dimples or sagging. ‘How did she do it?’, he wondered.
