This story, as is all stories, isn't written for everyone. If you enjoyed it, thank you very much and you're welcome. If not, thank you for visiting.
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The room was well lighted but not extremely bright. Even at that it was somewhat sultry with the décor. It was a side porch with nice flowers outside, nice fragrance and quiet with some bird and neighborhood sounds. Screens around the porch from about couch high up. Small trees that blocked the light. There were two couches, loveseats with low backs.
They were to stretch out on with your back up against the arm, not lying down or sitting up. You could easily put your elbows on the arms on either side of you or lean over against the back. Plush, very comfortable. I wanted his front to be clearly seen if he got excited and his waist wouldn't be bent double.
I planned to invite him to walk in the garden occasionally so he wouldn't get, well, I shouldn't say stiff. Maybe restless would be the word. I also asked him to wear sports shorts, no underwear. I assumed he understood why. He readily agreed.
I had a thin summer dress on. Light would go right through. I chose yellow panties, much darker than my yellow dress so they would be noticeable, very light weight. They were very roomy. Every now and then it would be possible for him to see right up inside my thighs and inside the panties..
I practiced in front of a mirror and could lift my knee and drag my foot up closer and put my writing tablet on my thigh and write while he was looking right up my thighs. I was shaven but all he could actually see inside was my ridges. My clit was hidden along with everything else down in between my ridges. He was welcome to the ridges. Lest I could do.
His name is Ryan. My name is Blue. We've never met but I talked with him a couple of times.
He's 26 years old, 5ft11, rather lithe, floppy hair, reasonable sports muscles. Trustworthy and personable. I know a girl who knows. I'm 24 years old, 5ft8 and slim. Love my boobs. Love my legs. Love my butt. Love my vagina. Nuff said.
He arrived early afternoon about one. We introduced ourselves and I said, "Ryan, if you don't mind I'd like to give you a close hug so we get off on the right foot."
He smiled and held out his arms. I softly swept into his arms and planted myself against him and hugged lightly and held it for a three count. We parted and he said, "Thank you Blue. That got me off. I mean on the right foot. Sorry, that came out wrong."
I wondered how long it would be before he instinctively made a play for me. That was fast and it was vocal rather than bodily, like pushing his crotch out a little while looking somewhere other than at me so I could watch.
We both laughed and I got his hand and took him out to the porch. He slipped his shoes off and settled on the couch, exactly as I hoped. He did have on sports shorts and I could see a little bulge in the front. He knew that was what I wanted and was comfortable with me seeing whatever happened there. No hiding it.
My couch was arranged so I could lean against where the arm and back joined giving him a good view up my thighs, when offered. His was arranged so I had an excellent, clear, slightly side view of his crotch. I was writing a piece and looked for someone that could give me an account of what it feels like for a gentlemen to have sex with a girl.
My creating a sexual atmosphere was to enhance his feelings along the way and hopefully get a more sexual description. I wasn't a cold fish and expected to wet my pants but he would probably love that. I wet them earlier, with some water, to see what happened and an immediate dark spot appeared. After they dried I slipped them on.
I got us some wine and got started. "Ryan, there are no cameras and no audio recorders. I'm writing a piece that needs some guidance about male intercourse. I might be writing some articles in the future that may need some of this information. I may use a little information in one place and a little in another. I'm not going to write any article about this interview itself, only little bits here and there.
"Thank you very much for volunteering, I very much appreciate it. If you have any questions or concerns let me know at any time. I know this may get very sexual but that is exactly what I want." Ryan was smiling. There was a fainting couch over near the other corner he lingered on for a moment. The tilt for the back was a perfect angle for two people to intermingle.
He said, "It is a little different for me but I thought it might be fun. Besides, I had to see what you looked like." Hit on me number two, not bad. He didn't say if he liked what he saw but he was smiling. We chatted while sipping the wine and got more comfortable with each other. I have to remember he's 26 years old, not a kid.
"Ryan," I said, "I assume you don't think about sex all the time. What turns you on, gives you a sexual feeling, makes you want to have sex?"
"Mostly the need to breed," he said. "I assume that will fade into, what you might think of as 'nailing' as many, uh, females as possible or convenient. And that will fade into sex when available and then when possible.
"I suppose I'm fading into the nailing stage now," he said. "Breeding is for the young. The sex drive itself is purely instinctive. All life forms have the drive to maintain their species. It's not a conscious decision."
"Sounds like me," I said. "I spend a lot of time checking out crotches and scheming how to get in there. Ok, let's assume you're excited and interested in sex, how do you proceed?"
"There are thousands of ways," He said. "For me probably at least a thousand. It depends on the situation, meaning the girl, the atmosphere, the location, dress, body movements, facial expressions, that kind of thing. I don't think it can be described in detail because an approach can change every two seconds or so. Sooner than you might imagine a clear path emerges and I settle down and pursue that path. It usually works out fine."
