Chapter 1

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Lesbian, Masturbation, Exhibitionism, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - This fantasy is an homage to someone very dear to me. In it I envision a face-to-face meeting in which I try both to rekindle a relationship we once shared, and to help her rid herself of some of the pain of her past. Through an intense sexual encounter of my own design, I fail at both. My hope with this story is to depict my feelings for a most beautiful, complex and fragile creature whom I have loved. The Black Rose.

After several attempts, I finally convinced the girl who was once my best online lover, to consider meeting me face-to-face during my upcoming trip to Houston. I had shared amazing mother/daughter sex fantasies with Giselle. Of course, it goes much deeper. We shared a serious emotional connection. In her incredibly direct, never sugar-coated way, she had once told me that, "The orgasms we give one another are real and the feelings we have for one another are real." On the money, Honey.

Unfortunately, after I had been quite inconsistent in my contact, dropping out of all my online connections, including with her for months without warning a few times, then popping back in just as unannounced, Gisele was not as close to me as she had been in the past. My feelings for her were the same, but she had made clear to me several times that, "things change." I couldn't begin to admit it to myself at the time, but in looking back I see that wanting to meet her for real was largely an attempt at stirring her heart in my direction once again.

I was aware of the irony of my asking her to meet in person. I had told her a number of times that I didn't want her to ever meet anyone she met online. I had the same rule for myself, always. And yet here I was, wanting both of us to break it. I at least wanted to make contact completely her option. I told her for her safety that she should come to the conference where I would have an exhibit. She could find my booth number and check me out from a distance. Then if something didn't feel right, she could walk. I left it totally up to her.

Gisele's in her early 20s, and I'm in my late 40s, so our ages matched perfectly for our mother/daughter fantasies. And our personalities went together like a real mom and daughter too, as did our emotions. Not the competitive one-upping way many mothers and daughters often relate, but in the "I get you, and you get me, and screw everybody else" kind of way.

We discussed the possibility of an actual meeting through email.

Gisele: You know, you're one of the ones who told me to never, ever, ever get together with anyone I only online.

Kat: I know, Sweetie. You're being very wise. And believe me, there's part of me that wants to tell you not to listen to me ... even to me! But there's another part that wants so very badly to see your beautiful face in person, at least once. Just come to the place where my conference is taking place. Just take a look at me, Gisele ... from a distance. If I look enough like what you thought, and you confirm that I'm not a big hairy man, and if I don't look creepy to you, then come and talk to me, only if you want.

Gisele: Sounds reasonable. I'll come and check you out, and we'll see how it goes.

For the first two days of the conference, I was a nervous wreck. I pretended to talk business with clients and prospects who came by the booth, but all I was really doing was searching the faces for my sweet Gisele. And then, on the afternoon of the final day of the show, there she was, walking up the aisle toward me.

"Holy shit," I whispered to myself, feeling like my heart was ready to beat out of my chest.

I'm not even completely sure how I knew it was her. She had sent me a couple of pics several years ago, but I didn't have them anymore. Of course, she's so special and unique, this lovely young woman coming toward me couldn't have been anyone else but my Gisele.

"Did you think I'd show?" she said to me as she got close.

"I ... I didn't know what ... oh shit ... is it really you?"

I mumbled. I'm never at a loss for words. But I mumbled. She did it to me.

"Of course it's me," she said with a wry smile. "Who else would it be?"?

"Absolutely no one," I replied. But ... well, I can't believe it's really you, Gisele. You're ... wow."

"Disappointed?" she said with pursed lips and raised eyebrows.

"Not a chance. Are you?"

"If I were disappointed I would have split, Mommy."

I couldn't believe she called me that. It was too cool. It gave me shivers, in a good way. I just wanted to take her and hold her, and kiss her forever. But I didn't think it was the right time nor place for that. I had thought about a thousand different things I would have done to make her feel special, if I had been sure she was coming. I did a few things just in case, but since I didn't really know if she would be there, I mostly had to make things up as we went.

"So, Sweetheart," I said, "I'm about done here. How about grabbing some dinner?"

"Sure, why not?" she replied.

And we were off. I had done some research into restaurants. Houston, not surprisingly, seems to be well known for Tex-Mex cuisine. We ended up at a place that was a bit of a hole in the wall, but that seemed really authentic, called Quixote. The food was great, but I was much more interested in looking into Gisele's eyes than in anything on the menu. I felt like a fucking schoolgirl mooning over her crush!

We didn't talk about our online lives, about erotic stories, or even about sex. We just talked, about ourselves, about what our impressions of each other had been, and how they were the same or different than we expected. Just talking to Gisele in person, just looking at her, was bliss.

After dinner and a walk around the convention center and the attached park, I hid my insecurities in a bold question.

"You are planning to come back to my room and spend the night in my bed, I hope."

Up to that point, we still hadn't kissed. But then we did. Gisele returned my boldness and answered my question by grabbing me, pulling me to her, and planting her beautiful mouth on mine. She showed how strong she was in the way she crushed me against her.

"What do you think?" she said when she finally let me go.

We held hands and grinned at each other for the entire cab ride to my hotel. I had a wild combination of excitement and pride inside of me as we walked through the opulent lobby. I swear, all I wanted to do was shout out, 'Hey Everybody ... see this amazing woman whose hand I'm holding? Well she's coming up to MY room, with ME!" Fucking schoolgirl (and loving it ;-)

While we were at dinner I excused myself and raced through several phone calls trying to get some things delivered to the hotel room before we got back. When we entered the room I saw that my efforts had paid off. On the desk sat three bouquets of roses ... one dozen red, one dozen white, and one dozen of the most amazing flowers I had ever seen ... black Bacarra roses. Next to them was a champagne bucket filled with ice and a bottle of sparkling cider.

"I think I get all this," Gisele said. "But you know I love words, so ... explain."

"My pleasure, Sweetheart," I replied. "First, let me hang up your coat, so I know you're gonna stay a while."

I hung both our coats in the closet and gestured for Gisele to sit on the couch. I joined her on the opposite arm.

"Well," I began, "I know you've pretty much given up drinking. I wanted something celebratory for us to share. So I asked the hotel concierge to get me a bottle of the best sparkling cider she could find and put it on ice for us."

"O.K. Nice. Go on."

"I think you probably remember the email I sent you a few months back, about the roses, right?"

"I remember, but tell me again, Kat."

"My pleasure. Well, in the email I told you that I could easily find meaning in giving you red roses, because you're such an incredibly passionate person, and because I'm so passionate about you."


"And I liked the idea of giving you white roses because despite all you've been through, all the pain you've suffered, and all the risky things you've done in your young life, I could still see the innocent little girl deep inside you."

"So far so good. And?"

"You're such a pain in the ass," I said with a smile. "You don't know what I said before?"

"You love it," Gisele replied. "Go on."

"You're right, I do. O.K. Finally, I told you that I thought the rose that best reflected you, was a black rose. I said I loved the way you've taken the pain and darkness in your life and turned it into beauty, through your writing, your personality, and in your being.

These are the closest thing there is to a real black rose. They're called Bacarra roses. They're actually red, but especially now, before the buds have opened completely, they look black. When they open they'll still be very dark, with black at the edges. To me, these black roses are the perfect representation of you, Gisele. They're darkness, turned into beauty by an artist. They're black, but also flowing with red, like the blood that flows through your veins. I think they're supremely beautiful, just like you."

"You didn't even know if I was going to come, Kat. When did you do this?"

"You're right, I didn't know. I had to do some work to find the black roses and get them here to Houston, but I did it. I ordered them a couple days ago, in hopes you would come today. I knew I couldn't pull that part off at the last minute. Then when we were at dinner, I was hopeful that you would stick around and come back to my room.

So, when I told you I was going to the bathroom, I made some frantic calls to the hotel concierge and a few florists. I figured I could get the red and white roses without too much trouble. The concierge took care of the sparkling cider and the ice."

Gisele just stared at me for what seemed like a really long time before she spoke.

"You really did all this from the restaurant? Except for the black roses, that is." I nodded. "And you did this, for me?"

"Who do you think I did it for?" I asked with a smile.

Next thing I knew she had jumped the length of the couch and into my arms. She started kissing me like the world was about to end. It was ecstasy.

"Oh, Mommy," Gisele whispered in my ear, "what do you wanna do to me?"

The next part of our time together is where my heart full of love for Gisele collided with my genuine motherly desire for her to be happy and whole. She had publicly shared through her writing, with the online community we were part of, as well as in our personal correspondence, how badly her parents had treated her. Their behaviors took away her innocence and any sense she might have had of being in control of herself and her world at a young age.

I had gotten the idea that, if we met in person, I could help Gisele to shed some of the baggage she carried from the treatment she received from her parents. My well-meaning heart and my not-professionally-trained mind came up with a plan that combined the serious sexual fantasies Gisele and I had shared, with a purging exercise that I hoped would allow her to leave some of her past behind for good. If it sounds like I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and that I was creating a potentially explosive situation, then I'm explaining things quite clearly.

"Well, Sweetheart," I whispered back to my sweet Gisele, "I've been thinking about that ... a lot. I've been imagining what I would do if I actually got you alone in my hotel room. And ... here you are. What I'd like, for right now, is to do something for you instead of to you."

"What do you mean, Mommy?" Gisele asked.

I pushed her just slightly away so I could look at her while I was talking.

"I remember all the stuff you wrote about, Gisele. And the things that we emailed about when we first started talking online. I remember how your parents had you get undressed for them, and bend over and spread yourself, and all that stuff. And if I remember correctly, you really wanted to do things with them, but your mother wouldn't allow it. She gave you all kinds of mixed signals and had all sorts of harsh rules that didn't make sense."

"Um ... yeah, that's some of the stuff that happened."

"Well, Gisele, this is what I was thinking."

I brought my face close to her and gave her a very wet and passionate kiss on the mouth. After that I wriggled out from under her and got up off the couch.

"Would you move to the bed and lie back on it please?" I requested.

"What are you going to do to me, Mommy?" Gisele asked.

"I am going to be your Mommy, Sweetheart. That part is right. But like I said, I have an idea of something I want to do for you. I'm going to ask you to trust me, Gisele. And we can stop at any time if you want to."

"O.K., Kat. I trust you. I have no idea what you're up to, but I trust you."

"Thank you, Sweetheart. Now, lie back. Here, let me get a couple of pillows to put under your head and shoulders so you can see what's going on."

Gisele looked confused, but she went along with me. I got her propped up on the bed, then I climbed off and stood at the foot.

"Gisele, Sweetheart, I know your mother, and your father too, did all that stuff to you. They took away your control, and your mother wouldn't even let you be a part of what they were doing, other than being their little exhibitionist.

What I want to do is be your Mommy now. But this time, you get to tell me what to do. And whatever you say, I'll do. Basically, I'd like to help you feel that you're in control, the way your parents never let you be. I'm hoping this will let you put some of your pain in the past, for good. What do you think?"

Gisele looked at me, still seeming unsure about what I was suggesting.

"I don't know, Kat. This is weird."

"Like I said, Sweetie. We can stop any time, or we don't even have to do it. You're in control."

"Well, that part I like," Gisele said.

"Good," I replied. "So, I'm gonna start by opening my blouse, O.K.? And you tell Mommy what you want her to do from there. You can say anything you want to Mommy, tell her to do anything, and I'll do it."

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Story tagged with:
Fa/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Lesbian / Masturbation / Exhibitionism /