A Stranger Well Met

I met Michael through an online "dating" service when I was single. And I use the term dating very loosely. It was a meat market of the sort where a woman opens an account and is then bombarded daily with dick pics and fantasy stories about ass-fucking. Not that there's anything wrong with ass-fucking, it's just not a turn on for me. Sorry to disappoint you—there won't be any in this story.

Michael had sent me a rare thing, a really hilarious introductory email about how he wanted to remind me what a happy pussy felt like. Just a few paragraphs long, the note made me laugh and turned me on at the same time. He also included a body photo of him sitting naked on a stool with his rather impressive manhood in full form.

We chatted for a few days and he continued to impress me as both funny and hot. The conversation would turn pretty dirty, like the time I said I wanted to suck his cock, and he responded, "You will. You'll suck it till your eyes water." Then he'd back-pedal: "Sorry, was that too much?"

But it was never really too much. In real life, I'm a nice girl. I am the kind of person you take home to mom. I like to cook. I dress well. I am slim, athletic, and attractive. I'm the kind of person people call ma'am. No one ever told me they wanted to fuck me until I squirted all over their face. So having someone talk to me like that was such a turn-on.

After chatting and cyber-fucking a few dozen times, we agreed to meet in person at a safe location, the Ruby Tuesdays down the street from my house. I ordered a glass of wine, but he said he used to have problems with alcohol, so he just doesn't drink at all anymore.

I was so nervous before the meeting I could hardly sit still. I wanted to take him back to my apartment and fuck him right away, but I also wanted to make sure he wasn't an axe murderer. And he was never in any kind of hurry about anything. "Take your time. Let me know when you're ready." It was a refreshing change of pace.

We met in the restaurant lobby and I was nervous, giggly, and slightly wet. He was taller than me, about six-foot-four, and I love tall men. He had a nice, hard body, which I knew from his pictures. He needed a haircut; his slate-colored hair was curly and starting to grow over his ears. He had a mustache. I had never kissed a guy with a mustache, and I was already starting to think how that would feel between my legs.

We met awkwardly. It's a funny thing to meet someone in person for the first time when you have already seen pictures of all their naughty bits and come to the sound of their voice on the phone. Do you hug? Do you shove your tongue down each other's throats? It was a family restaurant after all.

"I hate to tell you this," Michael said after we made our way to a table. "But I had a dentist appointment today. First time in like, ten years. They beat the crap out of me. I can hardly talk."

"Oh, ok," I said.

"I mean, I almost didn't come tonight, but I really wanted to see you," he said.

"I'm glad you did," I said.

"But I don't think there's any way I can lick, um, you."

"Oh. Oh my." The admission was both a disappointment and a turn-on. I was glad that he had been intending to lick me, and thinking about it made it so I could feel my pulse throb in my panties.

We sat together and talked for about an hour. With the pressure removed, no longer trying to decide if I was going to fuck him tonight or not, I started to relax and look at Michael. He was good-looking in a rough kind of way. I knew that he didn't have much money, but that he was getting by ok. He didn't have a college degree, but he spoke well and wrote better than a lot of people I knew. He could make me laugh. He had strong arms from working with his hands, and a nice tan from being outside on his job. We didn't flirt a whole lot during that first meeting since we both knew it really couldn't go anywhere. He couldn't manage to eat anything harder than soup.

But somehow knowing it wasn't going anywhere made me want it more.

When we went our separate ways that evening, I was a lot less nervous, but still just as curious about him.

A few days later, we were messaging again. "How is your tongue?" I asked.

"Much better," he said.

"Up for some licking tonight?" I asked.

"Absolutely," he wrote. "By the way, I like dresses and high heels."

I had a perfect dress. It was a short, navy blue halter top with a top really intended for a B-cup woman, but I'm a D. I wore it without a bra, so that the fullness of my breasts showed on either side. I made a special trip to the store and found a pair of 6-inch silver heels to wear with it. I teased my normally Indian-straight black hair up, and wore bright red lipstick, black mascara, and a bit too much eyeliner.

I left my door unlocked and waited.

When I heard him at the door I came and stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall. He walked in, tall and strong and lean, and I felt suddenly shy. I had a hard time looking right at him. I swear, the longest distance in the world is the space between the front door and the first kiss.

But where I got shy, Michael got manly. He shut the door behind him and crossed over to me in three quick steps. And just like that, he took my head in his hands and his mouth was on mine. A slow, deep kiss, and his hand twisted into my hair at the back of my neck and tugged, and I felt like his cavewoman. Rational thought was gone.

He moved his body against mine—me in my fancy dress and him in his t-shirt and shorts. I could feel the pressure of his hard pectoral muscles against my upper body, and his pelvis against mine, and the hardness of his cock under his shorts, and I was dizzy. I could feel my cunt opening up for him, my pulse was throbbing down there, and my pussy just wanted to reach out and grab him, but it wasn't time.

In a moment, he had untied the halter string at the back of my neck and set my breasts free. He cupped one in each hand, rubbing calloused thumbs over my large, dark nipples. They hardened under his touch.

His mouth moved to my throat, that spot under my ear that I had told him I loved, and he bit me gently, sucked and licked me right there as he continued making circles around my nipples, pressing the sensitive flesh against the rough fabric of his shirt.

He pushed my dress the rest of the way off. Of course, I wasn't wearing underwear, so I stood naked, except for the 6-inch heels. With the dress off, he stopped and backed up a step or two just to look at me. Five-foot six. Size four. Size 34-D breasts with large, dark nipples. Dark hair, dark eyes, red lips, big eyes. Neatly trimmed cunt.

I would have felt awkward standing there naked, except for the way he was looking at me. I felt powerful and beautiful. "Take me to the bedroom," I said.

He picked me up and carried me to my room. He laid me across the mattress so that my ass was right on the edge. I started to take off my shoes, but he stopped me. "Leave those on," he said.

He stripped off his clothes, and I took a moment to observe him. He wasn't a gym rat, but he had a nice, lean body with good muscle definition and a tight belly. Best of all was his cock, which was so long and hard and beautiful, I just wanted to suck on it. I tried to get to it, but he pushed me away. "Not yet," he said. "I'll get mine. I want to make sure you get yours first."

The way we were arranged, he had his back to my dresser mirror, so my cunt was facing the mirror. He knelt down so that he was at face-level with my pussy, and he began kissing it softly. Gentle kisses at first, taking the whole upper edge into his mouth and pulling on it. His mustache added a whole new layer of feeling. I raised my head so that I could watch his mouth on me, and he cast me little glances, knowing what I was doing.

He slid his hand up, first rubbing the outside of the labia, and I rocked my hips, letting him know I wanted more, so he parted the lips with his hands and slid his tongue down the gap, and I gasped. I wanted him already, I had wanted him for weeks, but this just made me ache for him.

He licked my clit, working it harder with the point of his tongue, and then he slid down so he could massage my clit with his nose while his tongue flicked in and out of my pussy. I moaned and arched my back and wrapped my legs around his head, pulling him closer—but trying not to suffocate him.

I lived in a ground-floor apartment with a neighbor upstairs. I'm just thankful she was mostly deaf, but I am pretty sure the rest of the complex heard me moaning as he slipped two fingers into my dripping pussy and found that spot on the top wall that makes me crazy. Meanwhile, he kept licking my clit. That's when I came the first time that night. Beautiful spasms rocked all the way down my whole body and clenched onto his hands.

"Good girl," he said.

Most guys would have considered their job done at that point, but not Michael. He kept working. He came up and kissed me hard and deep. His face and mustache were wet with my juices, and then he brought up his dripping hand from my pussy and slid it into my mouth while we kissed so we could lick it clean together.

He went back down on me again, and this time worked his fingers inside me, pushing down and down and rubbing my clit with his other hand until I came again.

"Oh, look at that, Katie's a squirter!"

I felt so good right then. I had never come so hard in my life, but we were just getting started.

"I want your cock," I said. "I want to suck it."

I felt like I could barely move my legs, but we readjusted so that he was sitting in front of the mirror and I could get on my knees in front of him and suck that delicious, giant cock. It was already fully hard, and one of the largest ones I've ever seen. It was straight, beautiful, throbbing red and circumcised. My favorite part of the cock is the slit on the top, so that's where I started. I took him in my hand and licked a circle all the way around the head, flicking my tongue over the hole. A few drops of delicious precum were my reward, so I sucked harder, pulling more and more of him into my mouth and massaging the part of the shaft my mouth couldn't handle.

I flicked my tongue around the head and cupped his balls in my hand, and then took him in my mouth again, savoring all the drops of precum that he gave me.

It was good, and I love sucking cock, but eventually even his cool reserve would begin to break, and I wanted that fat, hard cock inside me.

Seeming to read my mind, he lifted me up and put me on my back on the bed again, and raised my knees so that my pussy was facing him. He got between my legs and took his shaft in his hand, and slapped my pussy with it. It was the first time anyone had ever done that to me, and after he did it three times, I came again.

By now, I was so wet I was like a water slide, and every muscle in my cunt was contracting. Even though I was so tight, all the juice let him slide right in, and I cried out. He was so big, and I was so tight. It hurt in the best possible way.

"Come all over me," he said as he burrowed into me, giving me the full length of him.

I rose up to meet him, taking all of him, and wrapping my muscular legs (and 6-inch stilettos) around his back. He pumped like a stallion, and I don't know how he kept going so long after all the times I had already come.

He felt so good inside me, so hard and strong and long, I kept crying out. "Oh, God, oh, please don't stop, Oh, Oh, Oh!"

And I came a few more times before he finally let himself go, and that time, feeling him release inside of me, feeling his hot cum shoot through me, made me come yet again. We stayed like that for a while; me just feeling his cock continue to pump even though there was nothing left to spew out. Spent. Sated. Barely able to walk.