We met online. It was still the time of a pandemic and multiple lockdowns throughout the year. I was deprived of physical touch. I hadn't had sex in a year. I hadn't even hugged anyone in months. Truth is, I didn't even masturbate. Turns out, the whole "use it or lose it"-thing is actually true. As long as I didn't touch myself, I didn't feel the desire to. Which is weird, because usually my sex drive was pretty high.
At first he didn't even stand out to me. But I matched with him anyway. He was pretty insistent. Once we started talking, it never really stopped. We got to know each other first, quickly moved onto flirting and eventually we got to the good stuff.
Now, there something I should tell you upfront. I'm a slut. I'm a dirty, disgusting slut. I love sex. I love it as hard, rough and dirty as possible. Of course I didn't immediately tell him this. It might scare him away. He seemed experimental enough, but I wasn't sure. Didn't want to be too presumptious. Either way, he was cute enough and funny enough to have a drink with. We planned a date.
It was my first time ever meeting someone through the Internet. I'm not gonna lie, I was kinda worried. I wasn't worried he matched his pictures. We had videocalled plenty and I trusted he was real. But that's not the only danger. What if he was a serial killer? What if he was a creep? If his entire personality so far was an act? What if... he was gonna hurt me? What if he was gonna rape me?... the thoughts went through my head involuntarily. I lingered on them a little longer than I intended. I could feel my pussy twitching a little at the idea of being forcefully filled.. wait. Focus. As I said. I'm a slut. He's probably not even that type of guy. I don't want to be disappointed.
I arrived late. Shit. We were supposed to meet up at his apartment. I know, that's dangerous on a first date. But there was a pandemic going on. What can I say? Also, I liked a little bit of danger. I had to park a few streets over from his place. While walking there, I caught sight of my reflection. I was wearing a pencil dress. No bra. It was cut too low to wear a bra. My tits were very much on display. Was it too revealing? I knew I looked good. I just didn't want him to think of me as slutty.
When I got to his door, I was half an hour late. Well. I had a lot to set straight. I put on my biggest smile and rang his doorbell. His voice was nice and deep. Kind of husky. Very manly. He buzzed me into the building and I took the elevator all the way up. I was nervous again. What if... was this safe? Was I gonna be safe? I took a deep breath as I knocked on his door. He took a few seconds to open. "You're late." He looked at me with stern but playful eyes. I didn't know what to say. I stammered that I was sorry. Something about traffic. Meanwhile I was staring at him. He was tall. Broad shoulders. Beautiful deep seablue eyes. Soft lips. He was wearing a green sweater that was clinging to his muscular form. He had an amazing body. I knew he liked to work out, but... this was something else. He was smoking hot.
He stepped aside and let me in. I knew he checked out my ass as he let me pass. I knew he would be pleasantly surprised. I'm a curvy lady. I embrace it fully. I work on my body and I can honestly say I like my body. I'm nice and pillowy in the right places. I have a tight waist. He could probably wrap his big hands all the way around it. But his big hands wouldn't be able to fully cup my breasts. That's the way I liked it. And I knew he did too.
I sat down on a soft couch. His apartment was kind of cluttered, but clean enough. There were a lot of books. His computer took up plenty of space. He's a bit of a geek. That's good. He got me a glass of water, per my request. He sat down next to me. A little too close for someone I had never met before. I liked it though. I could feel his strong thigh radiate warmth to my own legs. He smelled nice. Warm. Strong. It drew me in. Made me want to get closer.
We got to talking. Kind of nervous gibberish at first, but once we were settled in, we started flirting. I couldn't look at him for too long without the overwhelming urge to touch him. I could almost feel the warmth of his skin against my fingertips. Instead, I leaned into him, my shoulder against his arm. God damn, he's strong. At least this way I didn't have to look at him. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his chest. His fingers stroked my collarbone, drawing warm circles. They slowly crept towards my breasts. It seemed to be subconscious. I cleared my throat and let out a giggle. He pulled his hand away, like he was caught doing something bad.
Honestly, at this point, I was getting hot. I was getting horny. I had been in such a dry spell, it was surprising I hadn't even jumped his bones yet. I didn't want to come off as a slut. But his touches were making my head all fuzzy. I couldn't think straight. I could hardly keep up a decent conversation. My mind kept wandering...
I moved a little, putting some distance between us. Maybe this would clear my brain. This brought back the problem of having to look at him though. He seemed to be distracted as well. His eyes kept wandering to the low cut dress. I could feel him staring. I blushed. I was getting fed up with this coy display of affection. It was obvious. I wanted him. Sooner rather than later. Who cares if he thinks I'm a slut? He wanted me too, that was clear. I challenged him. "Are you looking at my tits?"
He was startled and looked up at me through his eyelashes. He seemed embarrassed. He got over it quickly though. He chuckled. "Yes. Can you blame me?"
I weighed my options. How bold did I want to be? Should I kiss him? I looked down, seemingly coy again. This would surprise him. I moved closer to him. Slowly lifting off the couch and moving my dress up, so I could move my legs more freely. It was a tight dress and I needed space. I pulled it up halfway up my thighs. This way I could at least push my knees apart. He was taken aback but he didn't stop me. I straddled his lap. Once I sat on top of him, I looked at him straight on. He looked surprised. Without waiting for his response, I placed my hand on the side of his face and kissed him. Softly, I pressed my lips against his. He seemed very hesitant. I didn't want him hesitant. I had taken this step. Now I wanted him to take a step. I needed to dare him more. I parted my lips and let the tip of my tongue graze his lips. He sighed into my mouth, savouring it. He let his tongue meet mine. His hand moves over my thigh, sliding my dress even further up. His other hand on my waist, pulling me into him. In an accidental response, I grinded on his lap. I was so horny. I just wanted him to take me.
All in all, he seemed so careful. Surprising, for a strong, attractive man like him. Part of his appeal was his strength. He could force me to do anything he wanted. I could never fight him. I'd never win. I couldn't even make a pathetic attempt to. And that made him even more enticing. I wanted to feel his strength. I wanted to fight against him, struggle underneath him. I wanted him to force me in positions I wouldn't usually allow. I wanted him to make me his. God, my mind was all over the place. I could feel my pussy getting hot and sticky. I grinded against his lap again. I let out a quiet moan. Our tongues were still embraced. He was an amazing kisser. I was breathing heavily.