Learning With Heidi Pt 01

Please note: This story is fiction.

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I met Heidi through a dating app. I didn't realize I had hit the sexual lottery. She seemed like an average, wholesomely pretty 24-year old girl. Dirty blonde hair, round nose, cute cheeks, brown eyes, fun giggle and a nice little body that looked better than average even though she dressed modestly.

But when Heidi got dressed for a date, she became someone different. A complete knockout. Heidi's initial, average-girl appearance gave no hint of what incendiary arousal and uninhibited desire lie in her character.

This is how it all started, and how it spun out of control.

The more I got to know her, the more I learned that she was not an average girl from a dating app. The more I learned this was a trap. A trap that I was more willingly drawn into than I would ever admit.

The adage, "It's always the quiet ones..." is absolute fact. Over the next year, Heidi shattered my sexual limits. I would have never done the things we did, or she did to me, without her "persuasion". Her seduction. Her guidance. Her authority. It was applied with incredible sensitivity for how my mind worked. She had a subtle, assertive feminine forcefulness I never knew I secretly craved. Heidi was a master of sexual conquest.

Heidi could eventually make me to do anything. She knew how to get inside my head. She liked pushing me. Breaking my limits. I would have never done any of these things without her. Eventually, I let her do anything to me, and I'd do about anything for her. In time, I realized that her ability to shatter my sexual limits was the biggest turn-on for her. Satisfying her need to push me way beyond my limits became a huge turn on to me.

I'll skip the first few dates since they were typical. It was the fourth date when things changed.

Back at her apartment after a theater production downtown, Heidi asked me in.

"Want to come in for a while and see what happens?" she asked.

That seemed like a weird invitation; "...see what happens". As if she already knew what was going to happen. I was the one who was going to find out. Like I was stepping into some kind of lair. A trap. Turns out, that was exactly true. It continued for two years.

Heidi wore a little black dress, stockings and heels that late summer night. She looked prettier than usual. Absolutely ravishing. She spent extra time on her hair, was wearing red lipstick and really hot cat eye makeup. She had on a black, seamless, padded, add-two-cup-size push-up bra. Her creamy, round cleavage was boiling up out of her little black dress. A little silver necklace forced my gaze to her décolletage. She wore small, pearl earrings. Her black heels had open toes and the toes of her sheer, nude stockings had a little seam just in front of her bright red toenails. The back of the stockings had Cuban heels and a seam up each leg. She looked absolutely amazing. She paid attention to the details a man notices. That counts for a lot with me. She also had a practiced grace while walking in heels. I was seeing an entirely different side of Heidi on this night than on our first few dates. It was an insane turn-on, and I was lost in lust for her.

The way she looked drove me nuts all night. We stopped for a light snack before the theater. Seeing her walk from the car into the café, watching her stand momentarily still in front of the door while she waited for me to open it for her, her hands lightly clasped on her little opera purse in front of her, subtly compressing her already conspicuous cleavage upward even more, slightly arching her back and seeing her legs in those stockings and heels under that little black dress. I was going out of my mind.

The entire time in the restaurant and as we walked back to the car I was trying to get an up-skirt peek. Just a little thigh maybe. Was she wearing thigh-highs? Pantyhose with seams? Could she possibly even be wearing a garter belt and stockings, my absolute biggest turn-on, under her dress? In the dim evening city lights, I took every discreet opportunity to look at her hips as she walked in front of me to see if I could detect the subtle, telltale rumples of a garter belt under her snug black dress. The hem seemed just long enough, and she was just good enough at crossing her legs that I had not gotten a peek at the tops of her thighs. What she had on under her dress remained a delicious mystery. It was driving me insane.

The three-act play was good but seemed to go on forever. Finally, the closing music drifting over us. I glanced at her sitting there, perfect posture, looking stunning and ravishing in the dim theater light as the last act began.

I wracked my brain fantasizing about what she was wearing under that little dress. What kind of panties was she wearing? Black, no doubt, to match her dress and push-up bra. Were they sheer? A little, micro G-string with delicate satin ribbon for straps disappearing between her full, pale, round cheeks and joining the little satin ribbon around her hips that held a small, snug triangle of sheer black mesh over her smooth, waxed mound? Was she wearing lacy, stretch, cheeky boy shorts? If she had a garter belt on, were the straps routed under her G-string or panties, so she could deftly remove them while keeping her garter belt and stockings on for me, presenting me with her beautifully framed mons to dine on and then enter and pummel? The entire set of thoughts made driving very difficult.

On the short drive back to her apartment under the city lights I stopped briefly at a traffic signal. The car was quiet in the evening traffic. There was a sudden, awkward silence. The sexual tension was intolerable. Then, with natural grace, she deftly re-crossed her legs in the dark passenger seat next to me. Her stockings made that quiet, softly abrasive hiss as her thighs glanced over themselves. That wildly erotic sound. That beautiful whisper of anticipation and refined, dignified sexuality. The light turned green. I sat there, my mouth probably hanging open a bit. Then I came to and pressed on the accelerator just as the guy behind me beeped.

She glanced ever so slightly sideways at me in the dark. Knowingly.

"You like that?" she asked quietly, putting her hand on mine. "I think I have something for you when we get to my place then."

I did not realize it at the time because I was too distracted by her. Too out of my cognitive mind. But Heidi had already gained complete control. She remained in complete composure. Heidi knew then and there how susceptible I was to her subtle, seductive manipulation. Her command. I would learn that this was her domain- controlling me with her sexuality, and I had become irreversibly ensnared.

The moment we entered her apartment we were locked in a flaming, physical kiss. I tasted her lipstick, smelled her perfume, felt her bra strap and clasp on her back under her dress. Her heavily padded tits smashed into my chest, firm and swollen in the padded push-up bra. I slid my hands down past her slim waist to her hips and felt, Yes! Yes! She had on a little garter belt with four straps holding up her nude, seamed stockings! I felt no panties on her round ass so she must have had a little thong or G-string on. Or, maybe, no panties at all?

Heidi suddenly broke off our vigorous kiss, pushed me slightly away, lowered her gaze, looked me in the eyes and said, quietly but commandingly, almost in a whisper, "Fuck me tonight. Fuck me good. Good and deep. Fill me with cum!"

This was a bizarre departure. The demure little girl from the dating app who showed up on our first date in jeans and messy hair with no makeup had completely transformed. Now she was assertive, demanding. Commanding in fact. When she said, "Fuck me tonight", it wasn't breathless or impassioned. It was quiet and determined. A deliberate instruction. An order. My dick throbbed.