REAL SEX
My name is Steve Barr and I'm twenty-five years old. I am a computer security specialist; my job is to hack into the data base of a company; and then hand them a report to help them from keeping it happen for real. I enjoy my work, but it's not my real passion. If I had to list that it would be sex.
I don't mean making love, I mean sex. You know the kind; where you seduce the hottest girl you see in the bar; bring her back home; and fuck the living shit out of her. Maybe you will see her again and maybe not. It's not about the relationship, it's about the sex.
I'm not stupid; I know some day I hope to meet the girl of my dreams, fall in love, start a family; all the normal things. I just figure until that happens; I'm going to enjoy every tight pussy I can.
If that makes me sexist or base, too bad; it's me. The interesting thing is I'm not some stud beefcake or Adonis model. I'm just your average guy; I stand about six feet and weight in about one eighty; I've got that sandy brown hair that makes me look like I've lived on the beach all my life.
How do I get the women? That's easy; I am a porn fanatic first of all. I have probably as much porn stored on my personal computer as most porn sited even have. Masturbation, voyeur, hardcore, softcore, couples, threesomes; the list goes on and on.
What makes the difference is I really watch my porn. Not that I don't wank one out when I do; but I also watch. I watch the guys' technique; I watch the girls' reactions. While professional porn is basically fake and junk; real amateur porn can be very educational.
I learned how to perfect my oral techniques; I also learned all the various positions most women have never heard of or tried. I also learned how to find the G spot; which while difficult to find in a lot of women, when you do you hit gold.
Of course the second thing that has helped; is having a decent dick. No, I'm not ten inches or some porn length. But at a respectable eight inches, and fairly thick; I am larger than a lot of males, and yet not so large to cause pain.
I tend to prefer a slightly older woman. For one thing a woman in her late thirties to middle fifties has a LOT less inhibitions, so they tend to enjoy sex more. For a lot of them they have never had a larger cock; and honestly never had what I like to call real sex. Meaning they get the lovey dovey kind of sex; while many of them quickly find they thoroughly enjoy the rutting pounding kind of sex even more; they just never experienced it. That is until they meet me.
I graduated from college when I was twenty-two; and immediately moved out on my own after getting a job. I loved my folks, but it's hard to bring a date home and have screaming sex when your folks are upstairs.
The last couple of years have been utterly fantastic. I've been getting a steady stream of pussy while learning all the best hot spots in town to hit. I even had three separate women in one night a few months ago; God did that wear my ass out. The fact that many of these women were also married; actually made life a lot easier; since there wasn't the clinging attachment and drama you so often find with a single woman.
Did it bother me to fuck a married woman? It did at first, but when one woman frankly told me it was nice to have 'real sex' and not have to pester her husband; it occurred to me I was just giving them what they wanted while emptying my balls every time. I call that a win/win situation.
I kind of think it was because of everything going so well for me, that led to me making a slip. I wasn't paying attention to the small details; like where a woman lived or what her job was. I had spotted this hot woman wearing a short skirt and tight blouse at a country bar I frequented because of the older clientele.
Her name was Carol and she was there having drinks with a couple of her co-workers. By the time the night ended, Carol had come back to my place. I had eaten her out twice, and fucked her through two loads by the time she wobbled back into her clothes. She kept ranting about having the best sex of her life, and that she wanted to see me again. I knew she was married so thought what the hell.
The second time I got together with Carol, she came to my place. We were both naked within fifteen minutes and I had her legs straight in the air. She was in her forties, and had a fucking tight cunt. I pumped my first load deep into her belly while she squirted on my cock, and then dumped a second load deep into her ass while she screamed my name.
Before she left that night, Carol gave me a half a dozen slips of paper with telephone numbers and first names on them. Telling me they were all co-workers, all married; and all just as needy as she was.
I admit I felt a bit like a gigolo; but the fact I wasn't charging kind of eased that idea. The first number I called had been this fifty year old bleached blonde. She had a fantastic pair of 38D tits that wobbled like melons when she rode me like a wild horse. Fuck, that woman drained my balls four times before she left early Saturday morning.
I figured this was going to be one fantastic fan club. Then the second one got all nervous and squirrely on me when we both got naked. She never really relaxed the whole time; and no offense it's hard to fuck a stiff board.
Needless to say I was a bit wary when I agreed to meet the third one at the same club I had met Carol. I was wearing a shirt like Jon Voight wore in Midnight Cowboy. It was distinctive and easy to spot; I also liked it because it snapped instead of buttoned, which made taking it off a lot easier.
I was sitting at a small table, waiting for this woman Carol had written down as Stella, when I felt a hand come to rest on my shoulder.
"Steve?" the voice was soft behind me.
Turning, expecting to see a woman in her mid-forties, dressed in a white shirt with blue sweater. Oh she matched the description all right, and I felt my blood chill.
She looked over the shirt I was wearing, her eyes wide and frightened. I could see her clutch her purse as she searched for words.
"I should go" she whispered.
As she turned to leave, I did what came naturally. I reached out and took her hand in mine. She froze and looked down at our hands.
"You came a long way" I said finding my voice. "I think at least a drink before you go would be in order." I waited.
"I don't..." she started to say.
I tugged gently on her hand, and she drifted around the small table, sliding into the chair opposite mine. We stared at each other for a moment, until the waitress appeared.
"What can I get you?" the young girl asked.
"Another beer for me, and a vodka with a twist for the lady." I said calmly.
"It's a pleasure to meet you...Stella" I brought her hand to my lips and softly kissed the back.
"Why..." she started to ask. She stopped and looked at me for a moment.
"It's nice to meet you...Steve" she said softly.
I stared at her sitting across from me. Before she had sat, I had seen those long tapered legs; now I followed the contour of her sweater, as what had to be at least 36D's stared back at me. Her lips were painted a soft red and looked like they were begging to be kissed.
"You're staring." Stella broke my reverie.
"You're beautiful." Was all I could think to say.
"Thank you" a soft blush colored her cheeks.
She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when the waitress arrived with our drinks. I knew she was full of questions, but I didn't want things to go astray. I can't tell you why; but I really wanted things to stay on track. Raising my glass I looked at her flustered face, and smiled.
"To a beautiful lady, a beautiful evening; and whatever it may bring" I toasted.
"You wouldn't?' Stella's eyes were large with surprise.
"In a heartbeat" I softly chuckled.
"But...I'm...." a shocked look crossed her face.
"I am well aware." I cut her off.
I really didn't want to hear the words. I wanted to just enjoy the moments. Stella took a swift swallow of her drink, making a small face at its strength. With glittering eyes she looked at me.
