naughty

The Connoisseur

lollipop

For the last three decades, I have managed to tangle myself in some precarious predicaments.  Most of these sordid scenarios involved a man, or men (note the shift to plural) and sex was always on tap.  Quite honestly I stopped keeping a numeric record of my conquests many years ago.  It was too taxing to place a number on each of them.  So instead, I began keeping a mental “top ten” list.

Today, I would like to dish on my top cocks.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I know…how crude.  But let me just cut to the chase…I love cock.  I worship cock.  Over the years I have had them in all shapes and sizes.  You could say that I have become a bit of a connoisseur (or “cockisseur”) from my vast experience.  I study them.  I learn from them.  To this day, every time I pleasure my One, I learn something new.  A new trick.  A new sensation.  A new way to please Him more.  And believe me, I am always hungry and thirsty for knowledge.

Let’s start this countdown of my most memorable members, with those who packed some serious heat.  It’s often said that “size doesn’t matter” and I couldn’t agree more.  However…there is something to be experienced when you are stretched and filled to capacity.  When every movement is a reminder of their impressive stature.  And let me clarify before I go any further…these are not my top ten lovers.  I am only talking about cock.  A person could be hung like a Derby winner, but have the sex skills of Sheldon.

Which brings me to…the doctor.  Not a medical doctor, but rather a PhD (note, the D stands for DICK).  I met him online.  He lived on the coast about 2 hours from me.  He coaxed me to visit him one weekend.  Prior to that we talked for weeks and exchanged photos.  He was average looking, but seemed like a nice guy.  As our conversations progressed, he sent me a picture of his impressive cock.  And I honestly thought he had photo-shopped it, or copied a pic online.  So I wasn’t expecting much.  He was more average looking than his pic and quite short…but DAMN.  His dick was huge.  And he had a piercing.  I’d never experienced anything like that.  He fucked me on his balcony in broad open daylight and I am sure anyone in a two mile radius heard me.  Every thrust made me gasp in ecstasy.  But he couldn’t hold a conversation.  He had very peculiar eating habits, and acted like Rain Man in the restaurant.  He was just a bit weird and socially awkward.  I realized quickly that we would never go any further than the weekend.  All I wanted was the sex…so we stopped trying to talk, we stopped trying to connect and we fucked until we both passed out, woke up and then, we fucked again.

There were a few others that fall into “The Heat Packers” category.  There was the older gentleman, who was into BDSM and introduced me to caning. (Such fond memories) He was quite a bit older than he professed, and I was initially put off by it.  I don’t like deception.  I almost backed out of our encounter, until I saw what he was packing.  This senior had a cock the size of my forearm and he was quite savvy with using it.  He was an expert in Tantric sex and he taught this little girl a thing or two…or ten.  I felt like I gushed every time he pushed himself inside me.

There was the retired NFL player.  I had never seen anything like Mr. Johnson’s Johnson.  I salivated from both sets of lips.  I didn’t know if I wanted to mount him or suck him first.  I just knew…I wanted him inside me.  And I left his place that night with TMJ from having to open my mouth so wide…and I could barely walk.  For DAYS.  Moral of the story…you can have too much of a good thing.

Enough of the big stuff…let’s dish on the others.  There was “Captain Hook” whose cock had an actual curve to it, to the left.  I was disappointed when I first saw it thinking it wouldn’t hit the right spots.  Boy…was I wrong.  The “hook” hooked me.  He understood how to use the curve to his advantage.  And I had another one whose member curved upwards.  That was another fun time.  And was especially hot when we did anal. It was the perfect blend of pleasure and pain.

There are the “pretty boys” whose cocks were a work of art.  If I possessed artistic flair, these are the ones I would have sketched, framed and put in my living room on display…on a fucking gallery wall.  The one that comes to mind is the drill instructor whose face and physique were a work of art…and when he dropped trou, I saw the clouds part and heard angels sing.  His cock was perfection.  Smooth.  Nice girth.  Perfect length.  The head was well-defined and fit snugly in my throat.  I loved to worship him.  I loved looking at his perfect member.  I loved how he fucked me.

There was my college boyfriend.  He had a beautiful dick.  He was ahead of the times and was clean shaven before it became popular and his cock was long and smooth.  It was very long.  He was 6’4 and his member was a representation of his long stature.  I remember how he would wake me up in the morning, already inside me.  I have never enjoyed a wake-up call as much I did then.

There are the “don’t judge the book by the cover” ones.  As I mentioned earlier in the post, I was surprised by how some of the most unassuming ones, were packing heat.  There were those who were absolutely incognito.  There was the detective.  He was a client of mine, when I worked for the escort service.  I was a bit worried when I realized he was in law enforcement…and thought…well, here goes, I’ll be in jail by midnight.  But he truly just wanted to fuck someone who was not as inhibited as his dowdy little wife.  He wore glasses and looked the part of a nerd.  Not judging ( I love a nerd) and I thought…okay, let’s get this over with.  I was surprised, he had a very nice dick.  Well-proportioned.  And once clothes were off, he lost his nerd-like demeanor and handled his business.  He paid for an extra hour and even fucked me in the ass. He was confident because he was aware of his manhood.  And on the flip side…there was the triathlete who had some serious swagger.  I was anticipating a wild romp in the hay…but not the case.  His endurance was limited to athletics and I wondered if he had used steroids.  We will just leave it at that.

So to recap…I have had my share of surprises, disappointments and more than my fair share of learning along the way.  One thing is I am and always will be enamored with the male anatomy.  It’s certainly not penis-envy, but rather pure adoration and appreciation of cock.  And on that note, I will close.

Think it’s time to “adore and appreciate” someone…

the goods

(Photo credits, Pinterest)

Stay Tuned…

A few weeks ago, my dear friend and fellow blogger, the lovely Lady G, recommended a collaboration, of sorts. She commented that due to our similar sultry subject matter, perhaps Braeden Michaels and I should collaborate on something together.

As the resident naughty girl of my neighborhood, I took that suggestion as an open invitation to introduce myself to Braeden, a most talented and mysterious gentleman. He writes with such depth and darkness. Since our demons play so well together, we instantly connected and came up with a little something we think you may like.

Stay tuned…it’s coming.

T and B

 

Sand and Surf (Part 1)

Summer 1988

Daytona Beach, Florida.  Summer had just begun and I found myself on vacation with my best friend, Wendy and her family. Her mother had just remarried and the only way she could really go on a “honeymoon” was to take the kids along. So there we were: her mom, new stepdad, little sister, older sister, Wendy and me, all crammed into their new minivan (which looked like a lunchbox on wheels). We ventured down from Georgia to the Florida coast in record time.

Once there, her mother “excused” us to go see the sights.  She also excused her sisters to grab some food. I think she wanted some alone time with her new hubby. Wendy and I put on our bikinis and raced down to the ocean to check out the scene. There were people everywhere. We grabbed some chairs and secured a spot in the sand while we took it all in.

Although it was late in the afternoon, we managed to get a head start on our tans. Please note, Southern girls, (especially back then) were all about their tans. It was a sign of status. It was something you “worked” on. It was something to be achieved. And we were well on our way. In fact, I got a bit too much sun and my shoulders were pink. We headed back to the room to get showered and changed for dinner.

Her family was so different from mine. With my folks, we always had a big production over dinner. Where we were going…how far away it was…who was driving…when we were leaving…and it went on and on. With her family, her stepdad gave us each $20 and told us to grab whatever we wanted.

And we were off again.

This may sound cheesy, no…not “may” sound, it will sound cheesy, but stay with me. Wendy and I looked so much alike that people regularly mistook us for twins. So we often dressed alike, which always drew second glances…exactly what we wanted.  We were almost identical except she was slightly taller and her eyes were a true blue. But I had the C-cups and fuller lips. Dressed in red tanks and white shorts, we hit the strip in search of some fun.

We were approached by so many different guys. Some of them our age, some of them older, some of them MUCH older. They flocked around us. I think most men have some type of deep-seeded twin fantasy. And we loved the adoration. 

There was a pair of young men that seemed to hold our attention longer than the others. They were dental students on vacation from somewhere up north. Aaron was very blonde, with an angular face and dark eyes. He was quiet and pensive. He reminded me of Sting. I could tell there was a darkness underneath his introverted surface, so I gravitated more towards him. His friend’s name was Jeremy. He was muscular, loud and raucous, just how Wendy liked her men. 

We grabbed some food at a local diner and then set out for a nightly stroll on the beach. Wendy and Jeremy walked ahead of us. They were drinking beer and laughing. They chased each other in the water and played around like kids. It was their version of foreplay. Aaron and I hung back a bit. We were in the middle of a long chat about physics (no lie). I was turned on by his intellect. I enjoyed his awkwardness. I knew he had potential to be a lot of fun. The ones who are wound the tightest, usually are. We decided to sit down on an abandoned blanket on the beach and continue our conversation.

“Wendy and Jeremy seem to be having a lot of fun,” he said, motioning over to where they were. Wendy was on Jeremy’s shoulders while he ran into the waves.  He would pretend to throw her into the water and she would squeal for him to stop. They were having a ball. “Are you sure you want to hang out with me? I know I am bit boring compared to him.”

I smiled at him, “No. I am right where I want to be, Aaron. I enjoy these deep conversations.”

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. I laid back on the blanket and looked up at the sky. It was truly magical to see the stars like that. I was trying to decipher the constellations, when I felt his mouth on mine.

His kiss was choppy and nervous. He seemed unsure of himself, which made him even more awkward. I reached up and touched his cheek, pushing the hair away from his eyes. He stopped and looked at me. Stared at me, like he’d never felt that type of touch. Then he leaned in to kiss me again, but this time, it was good.

Soon he was on top of me. Right there…on the beach, just like in “From Here to Eternity” but we were far away from the water’s edge.  In fact, we moved back a bit, behind a dune for privacy.  We undressed each other without hesitation, with no worry about our location.  It was pure passion. The kind you have with someone you’ve just met, that you know you’ll never see again. It’s liberating.

I felt him enter me. I could tell he was not as experienced as me, but that was okay. I was accustomed to being the teacher. I guided the rhythm and pushed my hips to meet his. It was so incredibly hot, being out there on the beach and the risk of being caught fueled my fire. I pulled him into my body and flipped positions on him. Being on top gave me even more control. He loved it. He’d never had a woman on top before. He was enamored with my soft, full breasts and teased them relentlessly. He came within minutes of me mounting him. His loud growl could be heard halfway down the shore.

We got ourselves dressed and caught up with Wendy and Jeremy. Both of them were drunk, soaked from the ocean and spent from their little tryst on an empty lounge chair. Aaron and Jeremy walked us back to our hotel and bid us goodnight. It was 3:00 in the morning. Wendy’s parents were sound asleep. We managed to slip into bed unnoticed.

That morning, her mother woke us up early for breakfast. I rolled out of bed, sore and tired. I shuffled to the bathroom and felt like I was on FIRE.  No, not from a sunburn. That would have been far less painful. Sand had migrated into my nether regions during my little jaunt on the beach. Yikes! But that’s what you get when you play in the sandbox, right? 

All of that on the first night of the vacation. There were six more days to stir up trouble…and we made sure we did. beach blanket-1

(Photo credit: Pinterest)  

Suspended by Time and Space…

I apologize for my long absence.  I’ve been held captive.  Against my will (in a way even I don’t like).  Responsibility has had her long claws in me and I’ve not been able to break free for some time.  But with the hustle and bustle of the holiday season behind me, I have managed to escape to share more of my tawdry tales with you.

A couple of posts back I wrote about the first time I fell in love.  His name was Courtney and we had an incredibly hot, tumultuous relationship that lasted for almost a year. We loved fiercely.  We lived together. We broke up.  We got back together.  Repeat.  Over and over again.  After months apart, I decided another reconciliation was too much for my heart to handle.  But he called me one evening in December and I agreed to see him one last time.  It was Christmas Eve, 1994, and we planned to have lunch at one of our favorite restaurants. Since it had been months since we’d seen each other, I wanted to look especially hot for our date.  I wore a tight red sweater with a plunging neckline, a black pencil skirt with black thigh high tights and boots. I simply “forgot” to wear panties. My hair was long and wild.  I walked into the cafe and our eyes met.  That man always made me smile.  He hugged me and I felt whole again.  I knew we wouldn’t work…we had tried so many times before and failed, but it felt so good to be back in his arms.  Neither of us ate much, as we were captivated by each other’s presence.

After lunch, Courtney took me on a drive in his new Land Rover.  We visited a secluded park by the river.  It was empty, as most people were home for Christmas Eve.  Without words, without prompting, we both got out of the front and moved to the backseat.  He hiked up my skirt and opened my legs, revealing my lack of panties.  He grinned as he pulled my hips towards his mouth.  Almost instantly, he made me cum and I longed to have him inside me.  He pulled me on top of him and I straddled his hard cock as we gazed into each other’s eyes.  He brushed the hair back from my face and said, “I have missed you so much.  Let’s try this again.  I want you to move back in with me.  We will make it work this time.”

I looked into his eyes as he pushed himself deeper inside me. I wanted to say yes.  I wanted to be with him, but I knew we would fall apart again. I nuzzled in his neck and whispered, “I want nothing more, Courtney, but this will be our last time together.  I cannot go back.  We aren’t meant to be long-term.  We both know it.”

His eyes seemed to well-up for a moment as we continued to make love.  He knew I was right. We had an amazing afternoon together and soon it was time for me to go.  I had a date later that night and needed to get ready.  The guy was a smart, but boring, safe choice that I later married.  I felt sick as Courtney and I said our goodbyes, but I pulled it together and dressed for my date, all the while, thinking of the steamy afternoon.

As I mentioned, I married the man I saw later than night.  We never had the passion I shared with Courtney, but he was stable and easy to manage.  I grew bored early in the relationship, but focused my frustrations, putting more time into my career and then into being a mother.  I managed to stay on the straight and narrow for several years until a handsome co-worker lured me to the dark side.  Once I crossed that threshold, there was no going back.

One fall afternoon in 2002, I ran into Courtney’s mother at the hospital.  She was a nurse and I was there to see a patient for work.  We hugged and reminisced about days past.  She told me Courtney had finished school and was managing a region of dialysis clinics.  She said he was married with two daughters.  I smiled.  I was happy for him.  It sounded like he had found happiness. I told her to tell him, “hello” for me next time she talked with him, and we parted ways.

The next morning I received a call at work.  It was him.

“Hey Tessa, it’s me.” he said.  I knew his voice immediately.

“Courtney!  It’s so good to hear your voice.  How are you?” I replied

“I am better now that I know where you are.  I am coming to see you.  What are your lunch plans on Thursday?”

I felt a nervous tinge in my stomach…he always caused me to have butterflies.

“I’m, uh….free.  And you know I’m married, Courtney” I said.  Thinking back to our last lunch, I knew where things could go.

“Of course I know you’re married. It’s lunch, Tess.  Between good friends.” he assured me that it would just be lunch.  Nothing else.

“Okay.  Do you want me to meet you at the cafe?” I asked.

“No, I will pick you up at work, around noon.” he said.

“Okay, here’s the address.  It’s 21…” and he interrupted me…”I talked to my mother and then I called you…I do know where you are, Tess.  I will be there on Thursday. Can’t wait to see you!”

I was a ball of nerves for the rest of the day.  It was Tuesday.  I only had two days to prepare.  Thursday arrived and I got to work earlier than I’d ever been. I was so nervous.  So excited.  So curious to see how he looked.  Eager to breathe in his cologne.  I’d dressed to impress and paid careful attention to my hair and makeup.  I wanted to look good for him.  I wore a dark chocolate brown sweater that showed my form, with a sexy (but work appropriate) skirt and heels.  My hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail.  I looked professional and sexy.

I was completely distracted by his impending arrival. As the morning dragged on, my eyes were on the clock and then the door. Each time the door opened, I looked up from what I was doing to see if it was him, feeling disappointed when it was someone else.  At 11:45, I heard the door open and I looked up to see him walking in.

My heart stopped.  He was even more handsome than I’d remembered.  Tall.  Lean. Impeccably dressed.  He swaggered in with purpose, wearing a camel colored leather topcoat, a crisply ironed shirt and slacks.  He had grown a goatee and his thick hair was cropped short.  The receptionist was giddy as she greeted him.  She was smitten with his dashing looks and charm. She directed him to my office and before I knew it, we were locked in an embrace.  The embrace of an old friend, the familiarity of an old lover, the sensuality of a love suspended by time and space.

“You are beautiful, Tess.  Just stunning.  Motherhood agrees with you.” he said.  “You haven’t aged at all, you look amazing.”

I pulled back from him and gazed into his magical eyes.  “You look great, too.  So handsome and professional.  It is so good to see you.”

“Are you ready for lunch?” he asked, extending his hand to me.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, taking his strong hand in mine and following him out of the building.  He guided me to his car, a shiny black Porsche.

“You finally got your dream car!” I said, as he put me in the passenger seat.

“Yes, I did. And I love it! It took a long time to make it happen, but some things are worth the wait, you know?” he grinned.

We drove in silence to the cafe.  I was secretly hoping he would turn off on the road to that deserted park and that lunch would be “funch” instead.  But, as promised, we went to lunch. I could barely eat a bite, I was so excited to be with him.  He didn’t eat much of his meal either.  Mostly, we talked about what had happened in our lives for the last eight years.  He was in a convenient marriage, just like me.  He had two girls.  I had one son.  We compared notes on our careers and the conversation lagged.

He put his hand on mine, “I think of you every day. Every single day. I have missed you, Tess.”

“I think of you a lot too, Courtney.  But we both have commitments now and things are different.” I said. (I hated saying it, but I at least wanted to try to appear responsible and in control of myself)

“I know.  You are right.  I just wish we’d tried one more time.”

“Well, we didn’t.  And here we are.” Once again, I tried to stay on the right path.

“Here. We. Are.” he said, with a sly grin.  “I have to see you more often.  Even if it’s just for lunch. You are a part of me and I need to have you in my life.”

“Okay.  How do we do this?” I asked.  “How do we see each other, but keep a safe distance?”

“We don’t.  There’s no need for distance, Tess. We know where we are in our lives.  We can do this. We set our own rules and our own boundaries and agree to respect them.  What do you think…can we see each other sometime?”

I lost myself in his gaze and before I could stop myself, I nodded and said,  “Yes we can.”

He drove me back to the nursing center and walked me to my office.  Kissing me on the forehead, he whispered, “I will be back in 2 weeks.  Come up with a reason to be gone overnight…a meeting…a conference…something.  I will be in touch soon.”

And he walked out.

I was weak in the knees as I collapsed into the chair behind my desk, letting out a long sultry sigh.  Immediately, I fumbled through my calendar in anticipation of our reconciliation.  Which day would work best?  When will he call to let me know?  How will I manage an overnight?  My mind was going a hundred miles a minute when my office phone rang, bringing me back to reality.

“Hello, this is Tess.  How may I help you?” I answered.

“Make plans for the 22nd/23rd.  I will call you again soon,” he said. “It was great seeing you today.  Until next time, baby.”

As I put the phone down, I turned to that page in my calendar and circled the dates…grinning to myself.  It was going to happen.

(To be continued) 

the-date

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

Is It a Crime?

The year was 1986.

I was quite the social butterfly that summer.  I’d made many new friends in my neighborhood and we were always sleeping over at each other’s houses.  I had finally started to like the area, when I found out we were moving from upstate South Carolina, back to Georgia.  Needless to say, I was not happy.  But there was nothing I could do about it, so I partied like it was 1999, in 1986.  I knew my time was limited, so I threw caution to the wind (not that I ever held it in my hand) and made the most of every single minute there!

As I’ve shared, there were many young men in my “harem” at that time…the good boys, the bad boys…the preppy boys….the ones too old for me…the pretty boys, and of course, the preacher’s son.  I felt it was high time for me to try my hand at the dangerous boys.  I knew exactly who I wanted, but had no clue as to how or when I could make it happen.

His name was Anastasios.  His parents owned the only Greek restaurant in town.  Tasso (as he preferred to be called) was about 19 years old and worked in his parent’s restaurant, among other things.  I say this because he owned a brand new top of the line black Mercedes Benz.  You don’t make that kind of cash, working as a waiter. His parents drove a beat up station wagon.  No, there was more to his story that meets the eye.  I suspected he was selling drugs, but could never confirm it.  The cloud of suspicion was just enough to wet my whistle and I wanted this Hellenic bad boy.

I talked one of my new friends into having lunch with me at the restaurant. She hated Greek food, but tagged along to help me with my plan.  He was not our waiter, but I got his attention with one of my sultry looks from across the room.  He grinned and took our table from his sister who was waiting on us.  We’d not placed our food order when he sauntered over to our table.

“Hello, I’m Tasso.  What you two girls hungry for?” he said, with a mischievous grin.

That was all the encouragement I needed…I replied with, “I am hungry.  Very hungry.  Just don’t know what it is that I have a taste for” and I licked my lips.

He retorted, “Oh, I think you do.  I think you know exactly what you want” and he stared me in the eyes.  It scared the shit out of me.  I was accustomed to being the aggressor.  Maybe I was biting off more that I could swallow, before I tasted my first bite.

I stuttered my order of souvlaki and spanakopita and shyly looked down at my hands.  His directness was sexy and scary at the same time.  He knelt down to meet my gaze.  “What else can I get for you, Tessa?”

He knows my name?  How does he know my name?  I was flustered, but regained my composure, as I perceived his knowledge of who I was…as a victory in this tête–à–tête we were having.

I looked into his obsidian eyes, smiled and said, “I think you know, Tasso”

My poor friend.  She was just there as my wingman, and she was in the middle of all of this. But she took it like a champ and choked down her feta like a good friend would.  The food came out and as I was eating, Tasso handed me a note.

“I want to see you.  Meet me tonight.  I can have my driver pick you up.”

His driver?  WHAT?  Why would a 19 year old waiter have a driver for his brand new Mercedes?  The intrigue was building with each exchange.

I wrote him back with two words, “When? Where?”

He knelt down beside me and said, “We will come get you at your house.  Where do you live?”

I giggled.  Like my parents were going to let their young teenage daughter ride off into the sunset with Zorba and his driver.  “I will have to meet you somewhere besides my house.  Strict parents, you know.”

He nodded.  And then he whispered in my ear.  “You probably need to let loose, if you’ve got strict parents, huh?  I know just what you need.”

We made arrangements for him to pick me up at 9:30 at my friend Erica’s house.  She lived several houses down and I wouldn’t be seen by my parents, or curious neighbors.  I made up a story about a slumber party, packed a bag and headed to Erica’s.  I called my mom when I got there and told her I would walk home in the morning.  She didn’t suspect a thing.  Erica’s parents were potheads, so they had no clue who was at the house, who left the house or who came into the house.  They were usually stoned.

9:30 arrived and I saw the headlights pull into the driveway.  An older Greek man stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door to the backseat, as if he were a limo driver.  He said nothing, just nodded to me.  I got in the back, sitting next to Tasso, who looked delicious.  He had on a white jacket, linen pants and a pale blue shirt.  Very Miami Vice (which was popular).Very sexy.

He held my hand as the driver took us to the destination.  I had no idea where we were going and that was exciting.  The whole thing was exciting.  Tasso was quiet, but said something in Greek to the driver.  He put on some music and Tasso leaned over and smelled my hair. “You smell good”

“Thank you, so do you.” I said

“What is Tasso going to do with such a sweet young lady?” he said to himself.  His thick Greek accent was oozing with sex and I was ready to see what happened next.  The driver turned onto a road with a boat dock.  Parked the car in a secluded area and stepped out, facing away from the car.

“It’s just us now.  Tell me what you’re hungry for.”and he leaned over and kissed me.  “Tasso wants you.  He wants to show how hungry he is for you.”

Af first, I was put off with how he referred to himself in third person, but it was his language barrier.  It made him different.  Added to the intrigue.

He kissed me like no one else has, before or after him. He was so passionate, so in the moment.  Before I knew it my clothes were in the front seat and he was still fully dressed. He picked up my hips, pulled my thighs apart, tasting me at first, then devouring me.  He was relentless in his quest. He held me there for such a long time, that I was drenched in sweat and delirious from the pleasure.  I was experienced in sex, but had never had ANYONE pleasure me like that. He would come up from his meal to ask me if I wanted more.  I didn’t know how to respond.  I wanted more, but could I take more?

I managed to mutter, “Yes” and he kept on.  He treated me as if I were a 7 course meal.  I was thirsty and spent and we’d not even had sex yet.  He tapped on the steamed window..His driver came to the door and Tasso said something in Greek.  The driver opened the trunk and handed Tasso a glass bottle.

“This is a Greek drink.  You will like it.” he handed it to me after he sipped it.  It tasted like licorice and I did like it.  In fact, I drank too much too fast and felt like I was floating. I faded in and out for a few minutes as Tasso carried on with his dinner.  I came back down to reality and noticed that he was completely undressed.  He took my hand and guided it to his hard cock, showing me how he wanted me to stroke it.  I did exactly as he showed me and then I took him in my mouth.  I was so uninhibited by the drink (I later found out was called ouzo)  that I took him deep.  I returned the favor in a big way.

He was so aroused by my performance that he could no longer hold back.  He turned me to face the side window and fucked me like a god. He flipped me on my back and devoured me again before he continued fucking me some more.  All the while, he said dirty things.  He described how I felt to him, growling as he plunged into my sex.  He talked about how I tasted and how he wanted more of me..how he wanted me to pass out from the pleasure he gave me….how he wanted my lips on his wet cock before he finished fucking me…I had never been talked to like that before and I loved it.  He was indeed that bad boy I craved.

We stayed in that spot for another couple of hours, while his driver waited outside. He had retrieved a chair from the trunk and sat a few feet from the front of the car.  His presence no longer bothered me.  We had the windows down and I didn’t care if anyone heard me moan or scream or beg for more.  It was too good for me to stop.

That was the only time we were together.  After our marathon of an evening, his driver took us to the restaurant.  It was dark and empty.  Tasso fixed us a snack and playing over the speakers was “An Evening with Sade”.  The radio station would play an entire album late at night and call it “An Evening with….” That was the first time I heard, “Is it Crime” and I smiled to myself…knowing what we’d done bordered on criminal…knowing whatever he did to afford his luxury lifestyle was criminal…knowing that my web of lies to get out for the evening was criminal.  I was such a bad girl.

I got back to Erica’s house around 4:00 am.  I was exhausted and sore.  The next day I awoke to find bite marks all over my body.  We had feasted on each other and left evidence to prove it. I didn’t care.  I would find a way to cover my tracks.  I always did.

A few years ago, while working for hospice, I had the opportunity to pass through my old town in the upstate. His family’s Greek restaurant had been replaced by some franchised chain.  There was no trace of Tasso.  And even though it was one night, I will never forget my evening with him.

tasso

 (Photo credit, Pinterest)

The First Time I…

Summer, 1993.

It was a typical Saturday night.  I was between relationships and in between flings, and my roommates asked me to come with them to a party. At first, I was reluctant to go. I didn’t feel like getting ready for an evening out. But they were persistent, reminding me that my next “victim” could be there…waiting for me to have my way with him. I took the bait and before I knew it, we were on our way.

The party was across town at another college. It was packed.  There must have been about 80 people there, mostly girls.  The music was decent, but I wasn’t feeling the vibe. My roommates scurried over to a group of their friends and I found my way to a empty place on a worn out couch.  The place smelled of beer and I was planning my exit.  Quite honestly, I was pissed.  I would have been happier at home.

Just as I was about to flee the scene, I saw him.  Oooh, I saw him.  He walked in through the out door.  I sat my ass back down and watched him stride through the crowd.  I felt like a hunter stalking her prey. I envisioned all the naughty things I could do with him.  He was beautiful.  Tall and lean.  Broad shoulders.  Dimples.  Flawless skin.  I was doing a mental inventory of his attributes when some idiot spilled their drink on me.  Luckily, I was able to move quickly and only a little got on my skirt.  I was looking for a towel or napkins, when I felt a hand pull me over the side.

“Looks like you moved just in time.” he said.  It was HIM!  He had come to my rescue.  I felt my face flush. He was so incredibly handsome, that I felt nervous.

“Yes, I have quick reflexes.” I muttered.

“Yes, you do.  Let’s go into the kitchen and find you a towel”  He took hold of my hand and effortlessly guided me through the crowd into the kitchen.  Fumbling around in cabinets and drawers, he found a small tea towel.  He handed it to me and our eyes met.  We held the gaze until it became awkward. I dried my skirt and thanked him the towel.

The kitchen was becoming more and more crowded.  “Let’s get out of here.” he said.  “I don’t know why I came here tonight.  I don’t even like these kind of parties. I need some air.  Let’s go outside”

We walked out back and found a couple of lawn chairs.  He pulled them together and wiped my seat off before we sat down.  He extended his hand to me.

“Hi, my name is Courtney.” Courtney?  I’d never met a man named Courtney.  

“I am Tessa”

Still holding onto my hand, he pulled it up to his lips and kissed it.  “Nice to meet you, Tessa.” he grinned.  JESUS…he was handsome…and smooth.

“Nice to meet you, too.” I said.

We talked outside for a long time.  One of my roommates peeked through the door to check on me and I gave her the all good sign.  She giggled as she turned back inside.  She knew where this was headed.

But it didn’t go there.  Normally, I would have bagged and tagged this guy in a matter of hours. Drained the life force from his body and left him before dawn, with a smile.  But this was different.  There was a sincere connection.  I wanted to know him.  He wanted to know me.

“What are you doing tomorrow” he asked.

“I don’t have any plans.  How about you?” I said.

“I am taking you on a picnic.  Shall I pick you up around noon?”

“I’d love that.” I said.

“Good.  I will have the food.  Do you have a blanket we could use?” he asked.

I thought to myself…Me? Do I have a blanket for such occasions?  Don’t you know who I am?  I have a blanket to do whatever you need.  Wherever you want.  

Instead I answered, politely, “Yes.  I have a perfect blanket for a picnic.”

And he walked me back inside, helping me find my roommates.  We left soon after and there was a buzz about my new suitor.

My roommate Mary said, “You tramp!  You just had to pick the finest one in there, didn’t you? Damn he is hot.”  No lie…he really was.

Sunday arrived and we had a lovely picnic at a local park.  He’d picked up sandwiches and fruit and we ate in a shaded area close to the woods.  He was even more beautiful in the light of day.  I was looking demurely sexy in a sexy pink sundress with a plunging halter neckline and my long dark wavy hair spilled over my shoulders .  I could see that he liked my ensemble.  I could see that we really liked each other.

We shared our first kiss on the blanket as I anxiously anticipated what would happen next. But he didn’t make a move towards anything sexual.  I was a bit confused.  Most men would have made some sort of advance, given the setting and the chemistry between us. But he was different.

“I would like to take you to dinner, tonight” he said, touching my face.

“I would like that” I said.

“And I would like for you to stay with me, at my place afterwards.” he said.

I stared into his golden brown eyes and said, “I would like that, too”

He drove me back to my apartment as I nervously packed an overnight bag for my evening out. As we left, he took me by the hand, carrying my bag, and lead me to his car. As I was about to get in, he pinned me to the car with a passionate kiss.  It was so steamy that I almost lost my balance.

“I want you in the worst way” he whispered, as he kissed me some more.  I was dripping with desire.  I wanted him badly, too.  I would have gladly fucked him on that picnic blanket, or right there on the car, but I felt he had something else in mind.

Dinner was at a local Italian restaurant.  I don’t remember what I ate.  I just remember wanting it to be over.  Wanting to get back to his place.

We drove to the movie store (remember those?) and selected a movie to watch at his apartment, although I knew it wouldn’t even make it out of the case.

We got back to his place around 9:00.

And by 9:05, we were in his bed.  I wish I could remember each and every detail.  I wish that I could remember each move.  But what I do remember is the music playing in the background.  Courtney was a musician and a huge fan of jazz and soul.  He’d cued up a Luther Vandross album (on vinyl) for us to listen to.

I don’t remember how our clothes came off, or how one thing led to another.  I do remember the feel of his skin as he held me to his chest.  I remember the sliver of moonlight coming through his bedroom window that shone on his exquisite form.  I remember how he smelled.  I don’t recall the cologne, but it was subtle and sexy.  I remember him pulling me on top of him as he held my face in his hands and kissed me.  There was no rush for either of us to make the next move. When we did, I do remember how he felt as he entered me for the first time…filling all the space inside me…making me gasp in pleasure.  I recall how his hands grasped my hips as we partook of each other.

I do remember, with great detail, that was the night I fell in love.  For the very first time.  I was in love with someone.  Not lust.  Not sex.  Not saying the words to spare their feelings. I fell in love with this man.  I knew it. He knew it. I gave all of myself to him that night.  We made love for hours. He selflessly gave of himself.  We watched the sun rise together and I felt contentment unlike anything I’d experienced before.

We carried on for a few months in a state of absolute bliss. He was almost mystical in his seduction of my mind, soul and body.  No matter how often we were together, it felt new each time. Courtney will always be my first true love.

To this day, when I hear “So Amazing” by Luther Vandross, I am transported back to the time when I fell in love.  I am taken back to hearing and truly understanding those lyrics for the first time.  And it’s so amazing…

in-love

(photo credit, Pinterest)

Wonderland

elevator

My descent into the downward spiral of the rabbit hole was exhilarating.  I peeled off the mask I’d been wearing for seven years, finally recognizing my reflection in the looking glass.  It was me.  I had returned.  The darkness around me was a familiar place of refuge and I felt alive.

Greg continued his massage of my shoulders, slowly easing his hands towards my soft breasts.  He was gentle in his touch and I longed to kiss him again  Time was passing quickly and we couldn’t stay behind closed doors alone for much longer.  Someone was bound to notice and there would be talk.

Greg turned me around to face him.  “We should continue this later.  We don’t want to create any suspicion around here.”

I nodded in agreement.  He quietly unlocked the door and placed a chair under the vent he’d inspected.  “When you open the door, I will be on the chair pretending to diagnose your issue with the vent.  That should ward off any talk.”

He stood on the chair and as I moved towards the door. I noticed the bulge of his crisp khaki pants.  I paused as I walked by him, taking a moment to look up in his eyes seductively.  I casually opened the door and slid out of the office unnoticed by anyone.  He pretended to work with the vent for a few more minutes before leaving.

When I returned to my office, there was a note in my desk:

You name the time, and I will make time. Come see me in my office before you leave.  

Hmmm…Instructions.  I liked the tone of this note.  Around 4:50, I visited his office.  He was busy working on several projects, but welcomed me in.

“What are your plans for Friday night?’ he asked.

“I don’t really have any.  He is working nights and my son is staying over at a friend’s house.”

“Okay.  Could you stay out for a few hours?” he asked.

My face felt flushed.  It just dawned on me that I was about to dive in this pool.  I was about to plan this tryst with him.  I felt nervous at the thought of being intimate with someone new.  I’d brainwashed myself into monogamy and I began feel a slight moral dilemma.

“Is this too much, too soon Tess?” he asked.  I guess he could read my face.  He could see that I was struggling with making definite plans.

“No, it’s not.  I want this.  It’s not too soon…in fact it’s a bit late.  And yes, I can safely stay out until midnight”

He pondered his next comment.  “I am thinking we should meet at the Sheraton around 8:00.  I will get the room.  Just promise me this, if you change your mind, you will tell me and I will promise to do the same for you.”

I nodded in approval, “I don’t think I will back out, Greg. I don’t think Friday can get here fast enough for me.”

He grinned.  My LAWD the man was sexy.  It was only Tuesday.  How could I hold out until Friday?

The week moved on at its normal pace.  I was super-busy and so was he.  We would exchange niceties in the halls and spoke in morning meeting.  We both understood that we needed to WAIT for Friday.  We understood the intense heat between us and knew if we found ourselves alone for any amount of time that we would go too far.  That couldn’t happen at work.

Friday arrived and I felt like backing out.  I didn’t have a change of heart, but I was nervous about our encounter.  I somehow pushed through the day.  When the evening arrived, I took my time getting ready.  My son was with friends.  My husband at work.  And I had the house to myself.  I took a long, hot shower.  I made sure my skin was perfectly smooth.  I prepared myself as if I were going out on a first date.

I had just received a cell phone for work a few days prior.  Greg already had one and that’s how we communicated.  He called me around 7:30 to give me the room number.My heart jumped when the phone rang.  I knew it was him calling with the location.  His voice was deep and sexy, “Hello, Tess.  I am here.  The room is perfect, come on when you’re ready.  It’s room 719”

I did some last minute preparations and headed out. It took about 10 minutes to get to the hotel.  I arrived and the door to the room was ajar.  I knocked lightly as I opened it.  The lights were out and there were candles lit.  I looked down and noticed a trail of clothes on the floor.  Shoes. Socks. Pants. Shirt.  I followed the trail and saw him standing at the end.  He had on nothing but black boxers and that devilish smile.

I walked towards him and he pulled me close.  My face rested on his warm, toned chest.  He smelled divine. His skin was smooth and I rested my head on his heart as he stroked my hair. He pulled my face to face his.  His eyes smiled as he looked into mine. He planted a kiss on me that made me swoon.  I literally felt weak in the knees.

He pulled me close again, as he began removing my clothes.  Piece by piece.  He turned me around, with my back to him, as he unzipped my little black dress.  He carefully slid it over my head, leaving me there in my (matching) ivory and black lace bra and panties. He ran his hands over my back and carefully unfastened my bra.  He slowly pulled it away from my body as my breasts spilled out. He turned me to face him again as he looked at my body.  He kissed me as he guided me towards the crisp white bed.

“Lay down and get comfortable.” he instructed.  He sat next to me and massaged my body, circling my breasts, softly rubbing my legs, tickling my abdomen as he stroked it like a feather.  He kissed me as he touched the place between my legs.  I was still wearing my panties and he teased me by tracing the edges of the elastic with his fingertips.  I wanted him to rip them off and fuck me sore.  I wanted him to unleash what I’d held onto for seven years.  I wanted him badly.

He stood up and pulled my panties off.  They were moist from my arousal.  He dropped to his knees and buried his face in my thighs, exploring my slit with his tongue.  I whimpered and moaned in delight.  He slid a finger into my slippery place as he probed for the sweet spot.  Once he found it, I came immediately.  He stood up and I sat up, dropping to my knees on the floor, taking in all of his length in one movement.  He almost lost his balance as he felt for the bed under him.

I worshipped his ample cock.  I licked the shaft slowly, deliberately circling the head with my tongue before taking it deep.  I sucked softly and then aggressively, like the greedy slut I was.  I teased him by only taking in the tip and then taking it as far as it would go down my throat.  I don’t think he’d ever received anything like that.  He was so hard.  As much as I wanted to swallow his load, I also wanted to feel him deep within me.

I stood up and he pulled me on top of him.  His cock was slick with my saliva and it easily slid inside me.  I moved my body down onto his, feeling how he filled me.  I started to grind and buck, taking his cock deeper with each stroke.  I found myself going faster and faster, overcome with pleasure as we headed to orgasm.  We came together and I fell onto the bed beside him.  We both just lay there…in awe of what had just transpired.

“You okay, Tess?” he asked.  He was slightly out of breath.  I replied, “I am better than I have been in forever.”

He pulled me onto his chest and brushed the hair out of my face.  Looking at me, he said, “That was amazing.  I want more of you.  I want to have you as many times as I can tonight, you feel so good.”  I was speechless, as I was still recovering from the high.  But I found myself morphing back into the naughty girl from years past.

We took a candlelit bubble bath together and fucked again.  He took me from behind that time.  He filled every space inside me.  As he was about to unload, he pulled my shoulders back to edge in as far as he could.  He let out a primal growl as he filled me.  I loved it.  I wanted him rough.  I wanted him to use my body for his pleasure.  I wanted to give him something he didn’t get at home.  I wanted to be slut he needed me to be.

We carried on throughout the night.  Around midnight, we both got ready to leave.  He helped me put on my dress, but refused to let me put on my panties.  He said I should keep them off, as he found it sexy.  I was happy to oblige.  He walked me to the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse.  I was confused.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Just taking a ride, that’s all.  Gives us a few more minutes together” And with that comment, he walked over to me, slipped his hand up my dress.  Pushing two fingers in my hole, he fingered me on the elevator for a couple of floors.  He slipped them out and put them in my mouth, running them around my lips.  I could taste my sex and his seed.  He then pinned me to the wall and kissed me.  “Now we have tasted each other together.  Until next time, baby.”  He kissed my cheek and walked off the elevator as it we had just reached the ground floor.  He walked to the left.  I walked out to the right.

And as I made my way to the car I thought about the evening and once again, I felt weak in the knees...

 

(photo credits, Pinterest)

The Rabbit Hole

alice

May 2002.

I was in a place of transition.  I’d just been recruited to work in a director’s position at a local retirement home.  The place had a horrible reputation, but the new ownership assembled a strong team of experienced managers tasked with turning it around.  I loved it there.  The owners worked day and night to make improvements to enhance the lives of the residents.  We all worked together to make a difference.

For the most part, I liked everyone I worked with.  The administrator was kind and focused.  The director of nursing was great at leading the clinical team.  The social worker and I immediately bonded over music and movies.  And then there was the director of environmental services.  I was very fond of him.  His name was Greg.

I met him the day of my interview.  He was walking out as I was walking into the building.  He smiled as he opened the door for me, “Come on in.  How may I help you?”  His smile was sexy and I recognized a certain look in his eye.  It’s the look that you share with others in your tribe.  It’s a glimmer that lets you know that they “see” you also.  The real you.

I shyly smiled as I walked by him.  “I am here to see Brian.” I said.

“You must be the one he told us about!  Are you here for the interview?” he asked.

I nodded.  Greg smiled as he walked me towards Brian’s office.  He knocked on the door as he opened it and said, “She’s here.  The one you were telling us about.” Brian opened the door and welcomed me in.  Greg shook my hand and said, “It was really nice meeting you.  I hope to see you around here soon.” I sat down with Brian and sailed through the interview.  He immediately made me an offer and I accepted, on the spot.

From the beginning, there was tension between Greg and I.  It was an unspoken air of sensuality that existed when were in each other’s presence.  Although we didn’t have time to talk often, the conversations we did have were charged with an underlying tone of mutual attraction.  It was in the eyes.  When our eyes met, there was a certain electricity that sparked from the connection.  We both dismissed it.  After all, he was married.  I was married.  And neither of us wanted to venture too far off of our ascribed paths.

As the days went on we became closer, often talking about our kids and our lives at home.  We had sons the same age, who attended the same elementary school.  We worked hard at keeping our interactions professional but there was still tension in the air.  Occasionally, we would forget our obligations and shamelessly flirt with each other.  Then one of us would reel it back in.  We would take a couple of days off from chatting, to cool down, but eventually we would end up in the same place.

One sultry afternoon in May, I called him to my office.  The air conditioner vents were blowing hot air and it was quickly becoming uncomfortable.  He stood on a chair and checked the vents.  I looked at his form as he stood there, inches away from me.  I fantasized about facing him, and slowly unzipping his khaki pants as I looked in eyes; pleasuring him right there in my office.  I was lost in my thoughts when he said, “It’s electrical.”

I was caught off guard.  “What?” I stammered.

“The issue.  I think something may have tripped the breaker because, there’s no air coming out at all now. It’s happened in a couple of the other offices.  We’ve already called in a HVAC company to fix it.”

“Thank you.  It’s already too hot in here for me.  What should I do?”

He grinned.  “I have a fan tucked away in my office for such occasions.  I will go get it for you. Do you need anything else?”

At that moment, our eyes connected and there was no going back.  It was happening.  I could feel it.  He could feel it.  I stared deeply into his brown eyes and said, “Yes.  I do. But it can wait until you bring the fan.”

He held my gaze for several seconds before walking back to his office.  I felt a tinge of nervousness deep in my belly.  I looked around my office and began visualizing where this would take place.  Over the desk?  On the table?  On the floor?  Does the lock work on my door?  Do my bra and panties match today?  Oh shit, did I shave my legs this morning? As my mind raced, the door opened as he walked in with the fan.

He stared into my eyes and said, “Where do you want it?” He meant the fan, but I knew there was another meaning to his question.  He knew I knew it.  I nervously sat behind my desk and said, “how about on the table?”

He plugged in the fan and turned it towards me.  He sat in the chair across from my desk and said, “What else did you need, Tess?”

Oh shit, I thought.  Not prepared.  At a loss for words.  What to do?  I’d not stepped off the path of fidelity in my sexless marriage for almost seven years.  No man, other than my cruel bastard of a husband, had touched my skin in seven years.  I had not felt like a woman in seven years. I was so hungry for Greg’s touch, but I was bound to another.  As I struggled with an answer, Greg stood up and walked towards the door.

“Don’t go.” I said.

“I’m not going anywhere.  I am just locking the door. So tell me, what is it you want from me, Tess?” his tone was direct.

Keep in mind that for seven years I’d been in a relationship where I could not be my wanton self.  I worked hard to bury that part of me in exchange for the perceived comforts of the Stepford life I was encouraged to live. Plain and simple, I’d all but lost my game.  The old me would have spun a yarn, filled with innuendo that would have already had us in the throes of passion.  The new me didn’t know how to navigate this part of the journey. But slowly, I found the words.

“In my last job, the director of environmental services, was known to give a great massage.  My co-workers would call him to their offices on stressful days and he would work all of the knots out of their shoulders.  I never got one, but he said those were tricks of the trade and that all environmental directors are good with their hands. Is that true, Greg?  Are you good with your hands?” I coyly asked.

He walked towards my desk, stepping behind me, he moved the hair from my shoulders as leaned down and whispered, “I don’t know.  I will let you be the judge of that.”

He gently stroked the back of my neck as he moved his hands towards my shoulders.  I’d not been touched there for so long that I sighed out loud.  He began kneading my tense muscles and I relaxed into the massage.  “How is that?” he asked

“It’s wonderful.” I said.  My voice was breathy and faint.

He moved his hands up toward my neck, gently caressing my throat as he moved them back to my shoulders.  I was lost in his touch.  I could tell he wanted to feel my breasts, but he kept his hands at a respectable distance.

“What are my limits, Tess?  How much can I do?” he asked.

I stood and turned to face him, looking him in the eye.

My voice was steady and sure, “You have no limits with me, Greg”

He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me towards his mouth, passionately kissing me he said, “I want you.  I’ve wanted you since I met you.”

“I know.  I’ve wanted you too.  But I’ve been trying to do what’s right.”  I said

He nodded. “I know.  I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but I want you, Tess.  I fantasize about us all the time.  I don’t care if it’s only once.  I just want you.”

And that was the day I chose the red pill.  I swallowed it whole without persuasion.  I swallowed it whole on my own accord.  I knew what I was doing.

That was the day I ventured down the rabbit hole.

(To be continued…)

red pill

 

 

The Tower

My former lover, Lee, contacted me a few days ago.  We stay in contact, although we’ve managed to morph into a strictly platonic friendship.  We have been close since we were kids.  It’s a complex relationship.  He was with me at the hospital the day my mother died and he was there with me, a few months ago, when my father died.  We’ve been together in many forms over the years.  I’ve often wondered what would happen if we just tried going all in…you know, as a committed, monogamous couple.

And I realize that it would never work for us.  When we are lovers, it’s the thrill of being caught that fuels our fire.  If neither of us are already in a relationship, the intrigue isn’t there.  But put us together when we are not supposed to be…and you have a towering inferno of heat.  Which brings me to my saucy little story….

Lee messaged me late Thursday afternoon, “I was just at the tower.  Made me think of you.”  I was surprised by the message and said, “Oh yeah?  Which one?”

He responded, “At Exit 11”

Immediately, I was transformed by the mention of that location.  After the “Very Close Call” we had at my house, we opted to meet in neutral locations.  Lee works in the communications industry and would occasionally have to go to a radio tower site to ensure everything was running properly.  He had this wicked idea for us to meet there for a tryst.  And we frequented several around town.

If you’ve ever visited a radio tower, you know that it’s a spartan building with lots of controls and wires.  The floor is usually concrete.  Lee would have to open a padlocked gate and then a padlocked door for us to gain entry.  But it was secluded and it was just what we needed for an afternoon delight.  As long as there was a wall for me to brace myself against, Lee would navigate the rest.

We began a routine of meeting for a quick lunch and then taking a ride to a tower site.  Sometimes our appetites were so ravenous that we would meet two or three times a week.  I loved fucking Lee.  It was always more than sex with him.  We have a deep connection that makes our physical chemistry even hotter.  I loved how he bent me over while I held onto the ledge on the wall.  He would hit every perfect angle as he slammed himself into me.  I could never get enough of him.

One afternoon was particularly steamy.  We were at the tower site off of Exit 11.  We had both already gotten ours once, but we were not sated.  I wanted more of him.  He wanted more of me.  He propped my leg on a control board as he pushed himself inside me.  He rubbed my clit as he slowly and deeply sank into my hole.  It was all I could do to keep my balance.  The pleasure so much that I couldn’t contain it.  I moaned and screamed with each movement. He was turned on by my display and his rhythm became more powerful and intense.  He kept making me come over and over and eventually we collapsed together in a heap on the floor.  He was still inside me and I rode his cock, my bare knees against the concrete floor.  I didn’t care.  I was possessed with lust.

Just after he unloaded inside me, I saw the door begin to open, as the sunlight forced its way into the dark corner of the room.  “Lee?  Are you still here?” a voice called.

And I thought…can we catch a freaking break? How many times have we been walked in on, in our 25 years together?  One of his co-workers had arrived to check a setting on one of the control boards.  Ironically the one I’d been propped up on.  I quickly composed myself and Lee immediately went into work mode.  He introduced me as the IT/Communications Director of a local hospital, who was curious to see how things worked on this end of the business.

His co-worker, Ray, took one look at my sweaty appearance and knew exactly what side of the “business” I was working.  He shook Lee’s hand, nodded at me and made his way out of the building.  We got ourselves together and smiled.  The same smile we’ve shared on so many occasions before.  The “we got away with it again” smile.

Lee and I walked outside and he secured the padlock on the building.  He grinned and said, “What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?”

I smiled back at him and coyly said, “You”

tower

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

The 22 Year Old Virgin

tangled

Twenty-two.  Not 40.  But had I not intervened, he may have waited until he was forty.  I did my duty and rescued him from such a fate.

It was unseasonably cold that winter.  We’d actually had a smattering of snow, which is unusual in the deep South.  The roads were icy and I was sequestered at home…with my parents.  So the weekend after the winter storm, I was more than ready to get out and heat things up a bit.  My cousin invited me to visit him for a decadent weekend.  He was in his junior year of college at the University of South Carolina and there was always a party going on.  He had a wide variety of friends.  Men/women, gay/straight/bi, wild as hell and super nerdy.  He was a social butterfly who enjoyed them all.

I loved visiting him.  He always had a plan, an agenda, of what we would do for fun.  He was a small town boy with big city tastes.  He loved to live on the edge.  And I walked that ledge on the edge with him.  We started the weekend by going to a few parties on campus.  We both had a good time, but it wasn’t at the level of our typical shenanigans.  We were infamous for doing some crazy shit, like tip-toeing out of someone’s bedroom before their lover got home.  In fact, he was the same cousin who had taken my to the beach, where I had my first three-way.  Our stories were scandalous and I was slightly disappointed that the weekend began so tame.

Saturday was full of shopping, noshing on eclectic food and drinking.  I spent a copious amount of money on a sexy black cashmere sweater.  It was the perfect color for my milky complexion and I wore it with a micro-mini Pucci-print miniskirt and black thigh-high boots.  I was fierce.  We went to a few 18+ nightclubs, but nothing kept our attention.  It looked like the night was a wash, when we happened upon a party on the Horseshoe.  My cousin recognized one of his classmates, Tom.

Tom was a finance major, who was graduating that year and planned to continue on and get his MBA.  He wanted to intern with Barclay’s in London and eventually open his own consulting firm.  The man was smart, articulate and incredibly sexy.  Tall.  Dark.  Handsome. (And his feet were HUGE..just sayin’).  But he was a nerdy mess when it came to chatting up a girl. He could talk about the world of finance and currency exchanges, but flirty banter made him a blubbering mess.

And that’s when my agenda changed.  I had to have him. I was attracted to Tom in a different way.  He had this charm and innocence about him.  He was successful and if I am being real with you guys…he was a Kennedy.  Not related to the royals, but he had an air of aristocracy that made him seem like he was one of them.  I could tell there was a bad boy lurking  beneath the surface.  And it was my duty as an American citizen to find that beast and bring it out…you know the whole, “not what your country can do for you, but what YOU can “do” for your country” thing.  I took that seriously.

I sat next to him at the party and engaged him in conversation about European currency.  This was before the Euro and he had a vast knowledge on the subject.  My knowledge was basic, but enough to impress him that I had an interest (he seemed to pick up that I had a little bit of nerd lurking beneath my bad girl persona).  We talked for hours.  He was starting to become comfortable and sat a bit closer to me on the couch.

I peered into his big brown eyes, hoping to lure a kiss out of him, but he was still very nervous.  I realized that this project was going to take some time.  We parted ways that night with a long hug and quick peck on the cheek.  And that was okay.  It gave me something to do the next weekend.

We talked every day that week.  I could tell he was smitten with me.  We planned to meet again on Friday afternoon.  Both of us were finished with classes by 2:00 and it was less than an hour away.  I told my cousin I was coming up again for the weekend and he was happy to have me there again.  I told him not to plan much, as I was going to focus on Tom.  He understood, as he’d met someone new and was busy planning their agenda together.

Friday arrived and I showed up at his dorm in that sexy cashmere sweater and my best “good butt” jeans. He was visibly nervous, but I got him talking about something in his comfort zone and he began to relax.  We decided to try a new restaurant in the Vista.  We had an amazing meal and he was such the gentleman.  Honestly, it was a perfect date.  Part of me felt guilty for having such tawdry plans for him later.  He was such a good guy.

After dinner we stopped in at a few parties and talked with some of his friends.  He seemed more and more relaxed as the night went on.  We finally made it back to his dorm (his roommate was away for the weekend) around 11:30 that night.  We sat on his bed and talked some more.  Once again, I looked into his eyes, hopeful that he would kiss me, but not expecting him to make the first move.

He brushed the hair from my face.  I could feel his hand shaking as he touched my face and pulled me towards him.  Despite his nervousness, the kiss was perfect.  And it went like a wildfire from there.  We were locked in a fit of passion.  The kissing was sensual and erotic.  I began to wonder why he was so unsure of himself.  He certainly seemed like he knew how to kiss a girl.

He pulled me onto his lap as his big strong hands massaged my back.  My black sweater had a plunging neckline and I felt like my breasts would spill out from how he passionately touched me.  I could feel his hardness through my moist jeans and I was eager to see him fully naked.  To take him all in and study his form.  Soon, I removed his shirt and he took off my sweater.  His hands trembled as he unfastened my lacy pink bra.  He looked at my bare breasts in awe before clumsily fondling one as he attempted to lick my nipples.  He eventually found his groove and before long, we stood before each other naked.

“I don’t know how to tell you this” he whispered nervously.  “I’m still a virgin.”

I already knew, but didn’t let on.  “You are?” I asked

“Yes.  Someone broke my heart my last year of high school and I’ve not had the nerve to ask anyone out here at college.  I have buried myself in studies and just put it out of my mind.  But I am ready.”

He walked towards me, held my face with both hands, looked into my eyes and said, “I want you.”

Let’s just pause for a minute and reflect, shall we?  1.  This man is gorgeous.  2.  He is a virgin.  3.  He wants me…ME.  4.  And he’s a Kennedy.  

I gently kissed his mouth and dropped to my knees, taking him into my mouth.  He was rock hard and almost lost his balance.  I asked him to sit down on the bed as I resumed my position.  I realized that he’d never experienced anything like this before.  I knew he may orgasm quickly, so I slowed my pace, allowing him to enjoy each and every second of the experience.  He closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.  I didn’t allow him to finish, because I wanted him to direct how he wanted his first time to go.

He pulled me on top of him, as he fumbled with a condom.  I politely took it from him and had it on in less than a minute, with expert skill.  He wanted me on top.  I straddled him and slowly guided him inside me as he pulled my hips onto his.  He watched me ride his cock.  He looked into my eyes and then watched every move of my body on his, in amazement.

He came quickly and was most apologetic.  I assured him that it was okay.  He was ready to go again soon and we fucked all night long.  Him on top. Me on top again.  Him from behind.  More oral.  Showering together.  We finally went to sleep around 4:00 am and woke up and fucked more at 7:00 am.  We stayed in bed the entire day.  Exploring.  Feasting on each other.  Sharing our desires.  It was one of the best weekends of my life.

It rained for most of the weekend and when weren’t worshipping each other, we were intertwined in the sheets, watching it rain from his large dorm window.  We never got dressed or went out…We ordered pizza on Saturday and  Sunday.  We didn’t want to miss a moment together.  But eventually we had to untangle ourselves and get back to reality.

I left that evening a bit confused.  I’d been with virgins before and I enjoyed the role as a teacher. But this felt different.  I really liked this man.  He was everything I wanted in a boyfriend and the sex was amazing.  I remained in deep thought as I drove home in the rain.  The moment I arrived home, the phone rang.  It was him.  He wanted to make sure I made it safely.

We talked for hours that night and I think that was the first time I fell in love.  We stayed together as a blissfully happy couple until the summer.  He landed that internship at Barclays and headed out for a summer in London.  We tried to stay together despite the distance, but I was ready to move on.  I was not ready to find the One.  He could have certainly been the One.  But I was young and adventurous and we both decided to see other people.

Eleven years later, I was on a beach near Charleston, SC.  I heard someone call out “Tom?  Tom Kennedy? Is that you?  I haven’t seen you since USC!”  I looked up and saw Tom talking with the man who had called his name.  He was 20 feet away from where I was sitting with my family.  OMG.  He was still gorgeous.  He was married and had two beautiful children.  I was there with my husband and son.  I decided not to say anything and I made an excuse for us to change locations, because it would have been too much to see him again.

I prefer to remember him as he was during that rainy weekend in the winter of 1991.

 

 

(Photo, Pinterest)