I once had an older lover, but he died. Which was, and still is, very, very sad, because no-one has ever loved me like this man did. And not just physically, though he would bring me to multiple, screaming, twitching, incredible orgasms, one after another in a blur, until I couldn't move for days, weeks, months.
No, only hours really. But he fucked me senseless. Again and again and again. Mainly with his fingers, up against walls and trees and pillars and cars and ... well anywhere really. He would take me out for a coffee or a drink, and finger fuck me to shattering orgasms right in the coffee shop, or the club. Sitting there having my coffee or my glass of wine, with two fingers lazily fucking me.
Damn, I liked that! Still do.
He also loved me emotionally. We were close, oh so close. And we could talk. Talked for hours, days, weeks, at a time. About everything. Nothing was off limits. He had an insatiable curiousity and he sparked mine back into life after 12 years of schooling and 2 Uni degrees had smashed it to pieces. He would talk for hours about my smile -- how it made his spirits soar. The darkest day had no defences against my smile. He called my smile one of Nature's greatest wonders.
Or we would talk about life and the Universe and the meaning of it all.
He once said after a particularly sensational fuck, 'Even if life is meaningless, fucking you makes it all worthwhile.'
Damn, I miss him. Just before he died, my lover gave me a mission.
'You are a sensational woman, who cheers up the most depressed man just by walking by. I want you to go about cheering up men. Some with a smile; some with a hug; some with hot, slippery sex. But every week, your mission is to bring a smile to the face of 50 men. Which is probably way too few, as you could get 30 to smile just by walking down the street and smiling at 31 men. The other one was probably preoccupied, and missed your smile. No breathing man could resist that smile.'
'You can give men so much pleasure,' he said. 'Why don't you?'
At his funeral, I resolved to fulfil the mission he had given me. I smiled at the minister. He smiled back. He came over.
'Did you know him well?' he asked.
'Very well,' I replied. 'We were lovers -- emotionally and mentally, as well as physically.'
'He was a very lucky man then,' the minister said.
Inside an hour, the minister was fucking me up against a wall, not far from the cemetery.
'That was incredible,' he panted after he came. 'I doubt I have had better sex in my life. Not that I have had much.'
I never saw him again, but I like to think he thinks fondly of me. I went for a coffee, and chatted to the barista making my coffee. He smiled and laughed and flirted. When I left the shop, he told me to come back real soon, as I brightened the place up. Already I had given pleasure to 2 men -- 2 strangers -- and had enjoyed it immensely too.
My path was set. I started watching men. I noticed that not many of them were happy. Yet if I smiled at them or touched them or rubbed their shoulders, they changed. Suddenly they were happy and smiling and delightful company. If I rubbed my tits on their back as I rubbed their shoulders, most of them moaned.
'Oh, that is so good,' they would say. 'You can do this to me anytime.'
Other women would get cranky with me, until I explained my mission. They would try smiling at men, and almost always noticed the difference. Some women, however, just scared men when they smiled at them, so had to think of other ways to give them pleasure. They all did. Men get such immense pleasure from women, but we withhold our smiles and our hugs as if we only had a couple to give out.
My old lover had also taught me how to handle men who come on too strong. Or stared at me.
'Ninety-nine per cent of men aren't trying to offend you. They are either hoping to get lucky with a gorgeous woman, or they lack basic communication skills. Or both. Just tell them you're saving yourself for marriage or the orgy on Saturday night. There are a million ways to let a man down gently, that still leaves him smiling. Find them.'
And he was right. There are a million ways to handle a man so that you both end up smiling. I've found 675,879 already, and I've just begun. You just need a witty, playful attitude. A great smile and big eyes help too. So does a sensational arse. Big, firm tits and a deep cleavage work really well with some men. Damn near all of them actually.
My old lover said I had saved him from deep, dark depression when he had all but given up on life. He said I could do the same for almost any man, because I had the lot -- intelligence, personality and looks.
'There is no end to you,' he said. 'I find you endlessly fascinating. Never boring. Always delightful to be with, even when you are down. It is sheer pleasure to comfort you and lift you up again. When you cry, you are utterly irresistible. I don't know whether to hug you, or fuck your brains out.'
