When I was twenty-five I spent a lot of time chatting in the Scottish chat rooms. My chat handle was Gracie and I loved the way the sound of the "r" rolled off the tongues of the people in the chat room.
One night I was talking about my poetry and I received a private message from a man who's handle was Redman.
He was clever and interesting and spoke with an almost erotic intelligence. I learned a lot about him over the next couple of weeks. He was a full-time artist, forty-eight years old, and attractive. His photos showed tan skin and wavy blond hair - not normally my type, but it was his mind that turned me on more than anything.
We would banter back and forth for hours, sometimes with sexual undertones, sometimes not. One day he asked for my phone number. I gave it to him.
He called me on the phone and we chatted for hours. About one hour into our conversation I read him a poem I had written about lust and he started telling me what he wanted to do to me. He was definitely more experienced than I was and some of the words he used I had never even heard, but I don't think I'd ever had a conversation so erotic in my life and haven't again since.
He talked to me about his art studio and how he wanted to show me around. He would take my hand and lead me to his favorite painting - a nude exotic woman from Brazil. He would put his hands on my shoulders and turn me to face the painting while he kneeled in front of me, slipping off my shoes. Then he'd run his hands slowly up my legs to the bottom of my skirt and caress my upper thigh for a time. I wanted to entwine my fingers in his hair but he wouldn't allow it - he was in control.
"Look at the painting," he said.
I studied the beautiful dark woman. Her hair was long and straight and her skin a deep bronze. Her lips were painted in such an enticing way that even I wanted to kiss her passionately. As my gaze drifted down her long, lean neck I felt his hands move to the outside of my skirt and slip his fingers just inside the waist. He circled his hands around to the back of my skirt and found the zipper, gliding it down as far as it would go then suddenly removing his hands from me completely to let the skirt fall to the ground becoming a soft pool around my bare feet.
As I stood before him in my blouse and panties, I reached out to him.
"No," he answered, "look at her."
I turned back to the beautiful goddess and began to examine her chest. Her breasts were very full and young, her nipples a dark brown. I had never wanted to put my hands on a pair of breasts so badly in my entire life.
"What do you like about her?" he asked me.
"Her breasts are beautiful - I want to put my hands and my mouth on them," I answered immediately.
My reward was the soft touch of his hands on either side of my waist as he stood behind me. He slid his hands underneath the hem of my blouse and pushed upwards, taking my shirt with him. As he slid the shirt up my torso, I lifted my arms to allow him to remove it. He did remove it - so slowly, so carefully keeping his palms in contact with my skin. All the way up my sides his arms went, up my arms to the very tips of my fingers. My blouse came up over my fingers with his hands and fell to the ground beside us.
When the shirt was gone, he slid his hands down the back of my own hands, slowly down my arms and my body until his hands were resting on either side of my waist again.
I shivered under his touch as my gaze glided down to the Brazilian Beauty's stomach. She had a small waist and curvy hips - her belly button a thing of beauty - pierced with a deep red gemstone set in gold.
Still behind me, he slid his hands forward to float them across the surface of my own smooth, flat stomach.
He whispered in my ear, "Shall I put my hands and mouth on your breasts?"
I whimpered in reply, unable to speak with his hands on me. Slowly, still standing behind me, he slid his hands around to my back and came up to unhook my bra. He slipped the straps off of my shoulders, again allowing his hands to touch as much of my skin as possible in the process.
My gaze drifted down to the goddess's hips, so curvy, so firm and plump at the same time.
My bra joined my blouse and skirt on the floor. I felt a rush of fluid from my pussy leaking onto my panties as his hands came around my sides just under my arms and slid just under my breasts.
I moaned involuntarily, wanting so badly for him to touch my nipples that I couldn't contain the pleading whimper that followed.
His low chuckle sounded in my air, his breath kissing my bare neck and sending another shiver down my body.
He slid his hands slowly up the round underside of my breasts and squeezed gently, still not touching my nipples at all.
