Encounter

by Jerry

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, True Story, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Water Sports, .

Desc: Sex Story: A true, slightly embellished tale of a first meeting between a couple who met on the net and, after a million words through ICQ finally come together for a night of exploration. No hill or valley is overlooked.

Note: The person-tense changes in this story, a device I have done of a purpose__(author)


I was nervous, tense. I don't know exactly why as I have spent many hours talking with Janet on the net. I feel I know her well though we have not met in person. After a month of exchanging notes and sometimes long letters, we have 'connected' in a way that makes me feel very comfortable with this woman. But tonight will be different as she is in Austin and will be coming to my hotel room any moment. We have set up this meeting over the last two weeks and feel it will be an exciting, rewarding night. Last Tuesday we talked on the phone for the first time. I called her and we spent some time getting used to each other's voice then, when I asked what she was wearing, she told me 'nothing' and that she was in her bedroom, on her bed, the lights off except for a glow coming from a crack through the bathroom door. I moved to my bed and got comfortable. We began talking about each other's bodies, our voices becoming lower and sexier. In the next hour, I talked her to two great orgasms using first her vibrator then her fingers. Her breathing became deep and fast, her fingers moved faster over her hard clit. I listened with growing hardness touching my own sex, stroking it as she followed my leads. Janet put her phone next to her sopping pussy as she inserted two fingers. I could hear the wonderful sounds of a well-wet woman's pussy being fucked as she moved her fingers in and out at an increasing speed. Her palm encountered her throbbing clit with each downward stroke until she moaned into the phone that she was cumming. That's the level of intimacy we have shared so far. She used her vibrator about 10 minutes later to climax again while I listened in awe to this erotic woman's sounds of pleasure.

But now, we are to meet for real. As I step out of the shower my cock is semi-hard in anticipation and I shave gently wanting my face to be smooth and soft yet afraid to press hard with the razor for fear I will cut myself as my hand shakes some. Not too much cologne now, just a hint of cleanness. I want her to smell my desire for her. What to wear? Jesus, I feel like a high school kid. Just slacks and a nice shirt, open at the neck. She knows my mind, I hers. She's not here to inspect my costume but to meet the face in front of the mind that has talked such sweet things to her. Relax.

Dressed, I check the room again. Lights are down but it isn't dark, wine in a bucket on the table with two, fresh, glasses next to the card I so carefully picked out today at the hotel's gift shop. It's message is one of friendship and caring; I so hope she knows she is safe with me; she must if she consented to come here to my room. I have to make her know I wouldn't hurt her for anything - she has to know that, she has to. A single, white rose is on her bed pillow. Should I have put it there? Perhaps that's too presumptuous. I'll move it to the table next to the wine. No. She knows what I want. She knows I have dreamed of holding her, touching her, loving her. The rose will stay on the pillow. It makes a pretty contrast on the pale blue bedspread. I won't turn down the bed, no, that's taking it too far. The flower will draw her attention; she will know that is her pillow if she wants the bed. She must take the rose without my drawing her attention to it. She and I will know that her picking it up and holding it to capture it's aroma will be our signal that she accepts the evening that I have planned.

A knock! My God, she's here. My feet are frozen...move! I open the door to see a woman more beautiful than I had even imagined. Her smile at once makes me feel at ease yet I see in her eyes that she has been nervous also. I say, "Hello Janet, at last we meet. Please come in." Jesus, very original but what could I say? Come in, strip, let me get my hands on those magnificent breasts? Hardly, but I fear my eyes are saying exactly that. She steps into the room trailing a scent that is at once feminine yet musky, something like an orange grove in rich, organic soil. This is an earth mother I think, a woman made for love, designed to be yielding yet demanding at the same time; a woman who knows instinctively how to spur a man to perform beyond his normal ability. She will create in me the desire to please her completely even at the expense of my own pleasure.

Walking gracefully to the little table, I see her take in the room in a quick motion. She trusts that I have provided security and quickly notes the location of the bathroom and sees the wine bottle and card on the table. I catch up to her mouthing some meaningless drivel about finding the place and parking, etc. My hands tremble with the need to put them on her waist, just to touch this treasure, anywhere! I note how she coyly spots the rose on the pillow but only in passing, too wise to comment at this time. She must judge me, decide whether I am worthy of her favor. She knows the symbolism of the flower; there is no hurry.

I come around in front and ask if I may pour. "Yes, please," she says in a breathy voice. She reads my card. I know what she looks like under her clothes, I've said to her and she has said to me the most erotic words in our language. She has loved herself knowing I could hear her and wanting me to. So, why do we need to play this dance of words. I want her to take her wine and look into my eyes and say, "Nice flower." I will say, "It's yours if you want it." Will she walk over and take the rose? Janet steps closer to me and kisses my cheek with a pair of the warmest lips I've ever felt on my skin; I am glad I have just shaved. She takes another sip of the wine, her fingers delicately curved around the glass. She returns it to the table and moves close to me encircling my waist with her arms. She lays her head on my chest. As I take in the scent of her hair she says, "I'm happy to be here Jim, with you." I am trying to control my breathing to hide my pounding heart but how can I with her ear pressed to my chest? I put my arms around her and hold her close. She doesn't draw her hips back but allows them to press into me. I can feel her lower belly against mine, our breathing the only sound in the room. Thus, we spend a long several minutes lost in our own contemplation, just enjoying the moment of closeness. We each reflect, silently, on those things we have learned about one another needing this time to adjust, to learn the other's rhythm.

I loosen my arms, a signal for her to look into my eyes. We stare deeply probing the other's thoughts and find acceptance. My hands move up then down gently across her back feeling the rise of her bra, the strength and youth of her muscles. I press my lips to hers in a gentle, light kiss of her full lips. She is yielding and my tongue just barely, lightly, strokes her lower lip. Hers meets mine almost as a phantom; did she really touch my tongue ? I back away for a second again wanting to look in her eyes for acceptance. Hers are closed and she offers her mouth again. Again, I press mine to hers this time longer, with just a little more pressure. She parts her lips and I feel her tongue probing for entrance between my lips. My tongue meets hers but she is the more insistent and gains entry exploring me. I suck on her tongue for it is like a wet penis seeking sanctuary from an internal storm. She withdraws her tongue pulling mine with her to allow my own exploration. Our breath becomes hot as our arms pull the other closer, our bodies wanting to become one. Finally, we break, our eyes telling the other what we each want to hear.

Janet breaks away, gently sliding her hand down my arm to take my fingers. Her hand is warm and dry, I hope mine does not feel clammy reflecting my excitement. I must not move fast with this beauty, control Jim, control. She leads me to the bed, to the side of the rose. Picking it up, she holds it to her nose taking in its scent. "Thank you for the flower and the card Jim, it was very thoughtful". She turns toward the bed and is still. I put my arms around her from behind and move close feeling her beautiful ass fit into my crotch so comfortably. I know she can feel my hardness and, with a forceful but slight movement, she presses back into me. Now comes the truth. I must ask. She has sent the proper signals but she must agree verbally. I lean forward, my nose in her hair, my lips at her ear.

[My tongue darts out, the tip tasting the curve of her ear. "Put your hands on top of mine Janet," I ask. Your hands come up to rest on the backs of mine as I bring them in to cover your breasts. Pressing you, I whisper, "I want to make love to you Janet, slow and gentle for you are so beautiful and I want you. Do you accept?" I hear you say a definite "Yes" as you press my hands harder to your breasts. Moving down, across your belly and down to your upper thighs, I move my mouth to your other ear. There, I kiss its edge again and whisper "I want to fuck you Janet, hard and fast for you are so hot and I want you. Do you accept?" Your answer is a strong yes that is mixed with passion and forcefulness. "Yes Jim, please!" Your hands move mine to your mound forcing me to make circling moves. Your ass cheeks press into my cock as though trying to rub our clothes away.

Your warm hands lead mine to your breasts where you show my fingers you want them to unbutton your blouse. My fingers tremble a little as I turn you around to face me. Looking only into your eyes, I remove each little white button from its hold on the other side. I pull your blouse from your A-line skirt; it too, buttons all the way down to the hem at the knee. Once open, I push the blouse material up and over your shoulders then down past your arms and hands. Holding the blouse now, I bring it to my nose inhaling your scent. The fullness of your breasts arch up seemingly to ask for release from their hold. Not yet my lover. In time. I lean over and kiss the tops of your breasts, softly. My hands move to your skirt buttons. They are large and resist my clumsy attempts. You feel my frustration and join my hands with yours and unbutton the skirt.

In beauty you stand before me, in awe I drink you in, my gaze close, feeling every curve of you from the red lips to the rise of your woman-chest to the waist and down, down to the white panties that still hide your secretes. Your legs are together but yield and part as I seek your mound rabid to touch your thighs. My hand comes up pressing into the material indenting it over the valley of your sex.

You reach behind to unclasp your bra but I hold your arms arresting your movements. My hands move to your shoulders and press you backwards to first sit, then lie on the bed. I take the rose from your hand putting it on the night stand close so we can keep its delicate fragrance near us. I urge you over to the bed-middle and lie beside you propped on my arm. The glow in the room seems to swirl about us dipping to brush your skin then moving on to highlight another of your charms. Your gaze is into my eyes and so full of desire and trust and expectation. "Close your pretty eyes Janet," I whisper and punctuate my request by kissing your lids as they close.

With your eyes closed I do not feel self-conscious about looking at your body. My hand follows my gaze and I use its back to gently touch your cheek and hair. My finger traces your jaw line to the chin and up to your lips. You kiss my finger as it explores. I move down to touch your chin, the soft skin under it then down to the rise of your breasts, across each one noting their rise and fall as you breath deep. I trace the lines of your bra letting my fingers fall into their valley. "Take it off," you whisper. I ignore your request and move my hand to your belly. With my palm, I feel its smoothness and with a finger I circle your belly button and very lightly dip into it. Your stomach muscles quiver as it tickles. I hear you chuckle. Your hand moves to the back of my head as I lean over brushing my lips over your belly then darting my tongue quickly into and out of the little hole there.

I lean back then, my hand continuing down, down, down until I slide between your knees giving just a little pressure signal for you to part your legs. As you move them apart, I increase the pressure and increase it until your legs are wide apart, your sex fully open were it not for the panties. Here, I pause to revel in your beauty for a moment. My eyes again trace your body from face to breast to belly to thigh then across to your mound, your sex lips almost visible through the thin, white material. My lips again follow my hand and I lean close first trying to find your scent then lighting on your thigh. My fingers probe for an entry into your panties but they are tight. I cannot stand your nearness another second and press my hand to your sex rubbing it with pressure. I feel your hair through the material and perceive your hips move ever so slightly up, toward my hand. Your breathing takes on a deeper, more rapid tone and a low moan rises from your chest.

"Take them off Jim, please," you half-whisper, half-speak but I have moved on. I sit up and move between your legs my knees supporting my weight. I am just below your sex and lean over reaching out, my arms extended. Starting at your breasts, I use my fingers to touch you with moderate pressure. Your skin yields yet pushes back and I move all my fingers over your breasts, over the belly, down to your mound, over your sex, downward to branch apart and end at your inner thighs. As I move over your pussy lips, your hips rise with force and, in the dim light, I see an expanding wetness. Your scent is strong now as it comes through the thin material. I pause, inhaling deeply and slide a finger across your wetness bringing it to my nose. Your scent intoxicates me, I feel lightheaded and fight for control.

I want you Janet! I want to bury my nose in your woman-place but I, somehow, regain my strength and begin again my hand-walk over your body. Each time I touch your sex, you are more adamant in your hip thrusts. Each time my finger lingers longer at the mouth of your pussy and each time I see your wet place it has become larger. When you are ready my Janet, I say to myself with tortured, fire-consumed words...when you are ready Janet, you will tell me, you will tell me. I remove my clothes quickly before you chill and move up, over your body covering you. I can feel your sex against my cock and raise up on one arm to take my dick in the other. Using it as a wand, I move it over your lips pressing against your panties as though fighting for entry. Your hips buck up against me, your arms encircle my neck drawing me to you, your legs draw up instinctively and widen for me. I lean down and cover your mouth with mine. Your lips and teeth part, sucking me into you, inhaling me. Your legs lock over my back and I am astounded by your power as you press me to you. Breaking your mouth away, you open your eyes and look into mine fixing me with a hard, hot, unblinking stare. "Fuck me Goddamit! FUCK ME NOW!"

I press my cock into your mound. Your tone changes, softens, as does your gaze.

"Please Jim, Fuck Me, I Want You, I Want You So,."

I kiss you, raise your back up and unsnap your bra. Your breasts, finely unrestrained swell to their full magnificence and I see your nipples, hard, erect. My mouth falls hungrily on them. I suck trying to pull from your woman-milk of desire. My hands gather them, kneading them, my tongue flicks first one, then the other hard nipple. My hand leaves but my mouth stays paying worshipful homage to woman, to Janet-woman. I retrieve from the night stand a small, gold pair of scissors and move down to your panties. There, my face between your legs, your scent is breathtaking displacing my air with the odor of sex, of woman. I have to back off a bit but doing so allows me to clearly see the scissors in my hand and the object of their intended work.

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