I met Greg via a popular dating website. Lots of people there are looking for long term relationships, but most of them are looking for something far more casual. I fall somewhere in between, being married as long as I have been I'm not looking for a new husband but a nice boyfriend or two are welcome.
We chatted online a bit. Another character I've yet to introduce in this blog encouraged me to meet up with Greg. More than once, in fact. Greg was nice enough and appeared to be delightfully handsome so I committed.
We made a plan a couple of days in advance for a meet up. I decided I would indeed host, against my better judgment. I gave him my address and made sure I knew where the knives were.
In the morning, I woke up extra early and began to make sure the house was in decent enough shape that I won't be mortified to have him here. I also made a plan for the changing of the sheets so Husband and I would not be sleeping on the sex sheets from my tryst.
As we got closer to Greg's planned arrival time it became clear he was still at home. He let me know he would be late. He ended up being very, very late. Over an hour, in fact. Somehow this made my normal nervousness drop to near zero.
I was vaguely irritated at his lack of punctually but it was tempered by the fact that he kept me up to date on his progress. I mentioned his lateness and how long it was taking him to reach me (over an hour) and the other character I've yet to introduce pointed out "that is a guy who really wants to get his hands on you." Suddenly my irritation was gone. Maybe that was true.
Greg texted me once he arrived and I went outside to meet him. His car was an older model, damaged from some minor accident that left the car cosmetically questionable but still mobile. Fortunately for him, his car did not represent his own state.
It turns out, Greg really is a handsome guy. Pretty eyes, a quick smile. I was somewhat amazed that he had arrived, we'd seen each other, and he was apparently still interested.
I invited him into the house and he was greeted by the cacophony of all of my animals upset and confused by the stranger in our home. I gave him a quick introduction and then led him directly toward the bedroom, not bothering with most of the normal awkward conversation.
He followed me and just before we entered the doorway to the bedroom he paused grabbing me gently by the shoulder, making me stop. Before I could turn around he he had stepped toward me, pulling my body tight against his own. With a gentle movement he pulled my hair away from one side of my neck and replaced it with his mouth. I melted.
His lips and tongue made a delightful trail of pleasure climbed up the nape if my neck toward my ear making me shiver, and moan. "You find my spot" I gasped. His hands were on my stomach resting a little too politely below my breasts. I put my hands over his and pulled them to onto my chest granting him free access and myself the extra simulation.
After a few moments he drew back and I moved toward the bedroom again. It was a small circus, removing the dogs from the room, but once alone, he pulled me into his arms and gave me a slow, sweet kiss. I could taste the cigarettes on his lips. I remember thing "he said he was a non-smoker didn't he...?".
Still the kiss was sensual and delightful. I couldn't bring myself to break it over something vaguely distasteful. Certainly, I've had other lovers over the years with the same addiction.
He went to move me toward the bed and I sat down. He came down half on me, half off, kissing me more. I moved so his thigh was between my legs so I could press against something, both relieving and intensifying the ache he was creating.
He pulled me up and took off my shirt and maybe took a moment to appreciate my bra before unhooking that, too. I teased him about not being able to do it one handed (a sure sign of a man-slut, I think).
He moved down my body to lick, suckle, and bite nipples. Too often when a man plays with my breasts I find it boring. Not with him. He was tougher on them, than kind. I looked down at him, surprised by the sensations he was creating. He was looking back at me, gauging my reactions and responding to them.
I finally reached down and felt his waist band. "A puzzle" I muttered, tugging ineffectually at his belt. He laughed, maybe, standing up to take off his pants and underwear "it's faster this way" he said, settling back between my legs but giving me nothing to feel pressed against my pussy, yet, his lips on mine again.
At some point he moved down my body, spreading my pussy lips open. He touched his tongue over my clit, like nicely wet finger. Like porn. It was pleasant but not great. Maybe a minute later give or take, he was done.
I'm a little muddled here. But I remember he was on his back and I straddled his hips, our mouths fused as I rocked my hips, trying to catch his cock just right so it wold slide inside me. I failed. He knew what I was doing and grabbed his cock near the head, guiding it against my pussy. I continued to move my hips hoping he would soon be inside. "I'm teasing you" he said with a smile. "Fuck, I know," I whined, putting more pressure downward trying to force his cock inside.
He finally relented, letting me slide down on his cock. "Slow down'" told me as I tried worked to get his entire length inside me, "we have plenty of time." I moved more slowly, finally taking his whole length inside and pausing to savor the feel of his cock filling me completely.
I remember being on top for a while, him telling me to sit up, partially so he could see me, I think. Finally, he took over, rolling on top of me where he stayed for much of the next 45 minutes.
He finally pulled out of me, much to my dismay and began fucking me with his fingers, the wet sounds a testament to how good he was. I think I could have come from the way his fingers felt inside me, his other hand finding my clit and working it over.
He gave up on that rather quickly and slid back inside me. I could feel the heat building up in my face and neck, that wonderful sex flush that is a sure sign of arousal and impending orgasm. But something changed in his pace and motion. And it was gone, ephemeral as smoke.
I never came. He did. We spent some time touching a little and talking afterward. We showered together.
We finally parted, leaving the house together to go our separate ways.