We met on-line on one of those popular dating sites. The PG-rated ones, although we quickly escalated our electronic and telephonic conversations into the triple-x genre. In fact, we devised our own plan for our own domain name, designed to put couples together strictly for the purpose of fucking, no pretense or false representations at all. However, I digress.
I had recently relocated back from the Midwest to my hometown on the East Coast, back where I belong. Although, my profile still listed me as living in Ohio. She had relocated, as most people do, for a relationship. She was originally from Texas, but now lived in central Ohio. Talk about culture shock! Besides, what a conundrum between choosing between the Buckeyes and the Longhorns in a football game. Personally, I think orange was more her color than scarlet and gray.
But, geez, again, I digress. Something about her immediately and intuitively told me that she was a creative, daring, articulate, inquisitive, and intelligent woman. Little did I know the pleasant surprises that would await me in those regards, wow! Intelligent women make the best lovers, and she stimulated me intellectually, a tremendous and powerful aphrodisiac. She, in turn, was captivated by my own boldness, a fellow Aries, capturing her imagination instinctively.
Our first e-mails were rather generic, but heightening in flirtatiousness. I decided to hasten the dialogue by asking her if she wanted me to vividly describe why I had such a wild attraction to tall women, and redheads, my favorite combination. Naturally, she was intrigued, and my next e-mail served to completely hook her, she was mine.
"I love the taste of a true redhead," I wrote. "The taste of a redhead's pussy is like the sweetest nectar, a fruit, like fresh strawberries, clean, fresh, juicy, intoxicating. I will derive great pleasure my pleasing you with my mouth and tongue and fingers, while we both savor your wonderful flavor. And, your height....statuesque...regal........it is a tremendous turn-on to me to be with a woman taller than myself. Many men cannot handle it because of their own insecurities. On the other hand, I find it amazingly seductive to know that the beautiful, tall woman on my arm is the object of other mens' envy as we would walk hand-in-hand. And, knowing that once we reached our private quarters, our ultimate destination, that I would take complete and total control of that long, lean, wonderful body, taking both ankles within my strong hands and gripping them tightly, pulling your legs over my shoulders and spreading them wide, thrusting into you with one hard, deep, knowing stroke, watching your beautiful torso pulsate and writhe and wriggle to the feel of my cock buried within you, fucking you the way you haven't been in far too long."
Her reaction to this was palpable, even distinguishable from only an electronic perspective for the time being. We had finally found the unmistakable connection and chemistry that we had both been seeking. it's so elusive, isn't it. to find that? Yet, when it is there, the excitement can only culminate in one conclusion. Wild, intense, incredible.....fucking!
It was as if the floodgates had opened. She revealed to me her own many sexual desires, and it was more than I could have hoped for. She looked so innocent, so pure, her classically beautiful face covered in the softest freckles. It's always those quiet, innocent-looking ones that turn out to be the wildest, isn't it?
She was bi-sexual, she loved women as well, and she was not hesitant to take the lead and pick up women, in bars, co-workers, neighbors, strangers. She loved to give oral, and described to me the pleasure that she would bring to me by her talents. (Of course, I was skeptical because if I had a nickel for every woman who told me she gave the best blow jobs, well, I'd probably have about forty-five cents or so. But, again, I digress.) She told me that she had no gag reflex, that she could deep-throat anyone or anything. She loved, craved anal sex, loved to be fucked in the ass. Best yet, it had literally been years since she had been with a man. She had been in a loveless marriage without any emotional or physical contact for far too long. She was now more than ready to explore, to lust, to be taken, in every way. Little did she know, at that point, that she had captivated my interest completely as well. Little did I know, though, just how much.
We made our plans to meet
Our mutual parental responsibilities first had to be considered, to clear up a time when we were both free. We decided that an upcoming Wednesday would work best, right before the Christmas holidays. I would fly out that afternoon and fly right back the following morning. She was to make all the arrangements for accommodations, amenities, toys, etc. Turns out, she planned exceedingly well. She was full of pleasant surprise after pleasant surprise. I described the wardrobe that I requested for her to wear to greet me, and she giggled that wonderful, charmingly sinister giggle of hers, and she purred, "How wonderfully decadent." (Gosh, I think that meant yes.)
I sat on the plane as it descended for its landing, and I looked around at the other passengers, mainly weary businessmen either flying to or returning from a long day's travel, no doubt. I considered how many of them would be met by a beautiful woman whose only intent for the next sixteen hours was to give and receive extreme carnal pleasure to a total stranger. I further considered how many of them would trade places with me right now if only they knew the greeting that awaited me. Every single damned one of them , I concluded.
I felt like the proverbial million dollars as I left the plane, confident and flushed with excitement in anticipation of the evening and morning ahead.
I saw her as soon as I exited the security area. I gasped inwardly, inaudibly. Her face was essentially perfect, at least for my tastes. She was much, much prettier in person than she even was in her photos. I stopped for just a split-second, soaking her in. she was dressed in a long, gray, wool winter's coat that revealed only a few inches of her lean, tapered ankles, which sat on high heels of about three and a half inches so that she almost towered over me, a full four inches taller than myself. (It is always a good sign when you spot a great ankle on a woman. You know that the higher you get, the better the chances are that the ankles are connected to parts equally alluring.) he rest of her torso was completely covered by the coat buttoned tight across her neck, but I could see a noticeable protrusion from her chest. Wow, added bonus, I thought, big tits, too!
I approached her and she smiled, her lips curling mischievously, her blue-gray eyes sparkling, her auburn hair falling gently over her shoulders, her freckles almost tickling her nose as her face lit up with a mixture of relief, glee, and desire. I reached her and pulled her gently towards me, my arm slipping around her waist, and I had to almost stand on my tip-toes to reach up and find her warm mouth. She sighed gently as we kissed in the midst of the crowd, envious men scurrying by, trying unsuccessfully not to be obvious in their glances towards us. It excited me tremendously to have such a tall, stunning woman in a passionate display of public affection.
I pulled my head back from her mouth. "Why, hello, Becky," I smiled.
"Hello, yourself, John. You talk too much. Wanna get out of here?", she asked, taking me by the hand and leading me toward the moving walkway that led outside to the covered garage. "Our chariot awaits."
We quickly reached her SUV, parked on the top level of the exposed garage, and I again reached for her to pull her towards me and kiss her. However, she pulled back, admonishing me to be patient. I asked her how long is the ride, assuming we were going to her house in Westerville. Her eyes twinkled as she grinned, "About thirty seconds."
As soon as we left the toll booth to lead out of the garage, she made a sharp right into the Concourse Hotel parking lot. As she cruised to a stop at the side door, she handed me a key. "Room 218. That is the first surprise. I knew I couldn't wait and longer. God, I am so wet."
I kissed her on the cheek, flattered that she had taken this extra little step. I wasn't sure how much longer I could wait, either, such was my eagerness to consummate our fantasy after weeks of electronic and telephonic foreplay. The game was to begin, play ball!