Ron called me from his home as he was leaving, and again from his cell phone as he pulled into my driveway. I love it when a guy is considerate of my time in that way -- to phone and let me know exactly when to expect him.
I dressed very casually that chilly April-spring morning. I wore black, silk, bikini panties underneath a pair of skin-tight, black, stretch leggings, and went braless in a close-fitting, gray, cashmere sweater that had a huge, low-cut, scoop/cowl neckline. I applied a light coat of make-up, purposely not putting any lipstick or perfume on -- I never wear either when dating a married man, out of polite consideration for his circumstances.
He arrived promptly at 9:30, looking much more handsome than he appeared in his picture. Indeed, he was one hot, sexy hunk of a man! I held my door open, and as I guided him inside, our smiles drew our bodies together, until we were wrapped up in one long, huge and tender hug. After fixing us each a cup of coffee, we sat down on my large, comfy-soft sofa, continuing with what seemed to be the same hug we had started at my door.
I immediately noticed that Ron is masculine and manly in every way, as he smoothly stroked my long, shiny, blonde hair -- his strong, rugged hands running his fingers through it like giant teeth on a comb. He was turning me on terribly with his fingers brushing against my neck and ears, tickling the skin on my most erogenous areas. He had to be aware of my instant longing and desire for him – the low, droning moans emanating from my throat gave me away.
Gradually, firmly, and feeling every inch of me as he moved them, his hands began sliding down my body, over my shoulders and pressing gently into my back. As he reached the cheeks of my ass, he made the move that sends shivers down my spine, and gets me squirming like a worm -- he fully cupped first my left cheek in his hand, grasping it, grabbing it, squeezing it, pleasing it – a soft moan escaping from his mouth as he touched me there, telling me he felt the same intense passion that he was passing on to me.
I swear it felt as if we had been together, exactly as we were at that moment, an infinite number of times before. Everything about being with Ron felt wonderfully familiar, so comfortable and comforting to us both. He was providing me with the kind of caring intimacy that I had been craving for so long – the kind of closeness that is only shared between a man and a woman when they know, and love, and even adore one another.
After a few minutes of cheek squeezing, his hand continued its journey down my quivering backside a short way, momentarily pausing on my left thigh. I was completely conscious of the fact that he was edging ever closer to my swiftly swelling snatch, which was already drenched and dripping with my sweet, sex syrup. Surely Ron was well aware of the way his fingers were tickling and teasing me so, sending me nearer to a state of pure ecstasy. I could barely wait to be there, and the anticipation of him touching my throbbing twat made me want to take his hand and shove it right down the front of my stretch slacks!
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers edged their way underneath my elastic waistband! A long sigh of relief rumbled softly from my mouth, as his hand slowly slid down my stomach, under my slacks, over the outside of my silk panties. My puffed up pussy mound was actually aching for a feel, as Ron sneakily slipped his middle finger only, around the side of my silk bikinis. I think I ceased to breathe then -- anxiously awaiting whatever his next move would be – and all was still as I laid there in his lap, my body frozen, if only for that one, single moment...
