My name is Deana, I'm 55, divorcee and live by myself near Nashville Tennessee. I have long Auburn hair, seductive green eyes, and a full figured body, I don't go out in the real world to find someone to date, nor do I go online. Mainly most of the people online are phony; I can never tell whether they are talking to a man or woman. However, my poor heart had been shattered so many times, that is where you might find me late on a Saturday night in front of my computer chatting.
His name was Bruno; he's 53, and married. He stood six-two, has salt n pepper hair, and strong European features, and deep blue eyes. He missed the land he grew up in, France. Oh how he longed to visit Paris again. However he was stuck in a dead end job, a loveless marriage, and living in a big eastern metropolis. He longed for the kind of love that satisfied his every need and left him wanting more. All of his life he'd been searching for it, and never found it. So every Saturday night, he could be found, chatting online, chasing that elusive rainbow, called love.
That is where he met me a sassy red-headed woman. He always seemed to say the right words, and could make my pussy purr with delight, and I wondered often, if he did that for real too. I was the hesitant one, with the fear of my heart being broken again.
He told me, he was totally infatuated with me. He wanted to hold me, kiss me, and make love to me, all day long and into the night. He begged me again to come meet him in New York.
"Its springtime, and love is in the air, ma chérie. Come to visit me, and I will take you on a trip through paradise. No strings attached, just two lovers satisfying there primal needs.
"No, you know I cannot so please quit asking."
However this man, with a sexy French accent, gentle manner, and kind words, worm me down, and one night I just to shut him up, I agreed to meet him
He informed me he would email me details, and dates he wanted to be with me, and I could fly to the New York area to meet him.
Later that week, we emailed each other, and finalized the plans for my trip. I would fly there in two weeks for one glorious weekend. I still had my reservations, but decided to go.
All the way there, I was more nervous than a teenager on my first date. Will he like me, what will we do, and a million other questions ran through my mind? After an uneventful flight I landed at JFK airport.
I hurried off the plan, picked up my luggage and headed toward the waiting area. Fifteen minutes has passed when I saw him waving frantically from across the terminal.
With trembling fingers he pulled me close; kissing me so hard it curled my toes. "Welcome to New York darling. How was your flight?"
"Long, but uneventful. All I want to do is kick off my shoes and relax over a glass of wine with you."
"I know where there is a quaint bistro. I shall take you there before we go to the hotel room."
It sounded like he had the whole evening planned; I liked that, a man who takes charge.
We ordered a light supper, and some soft wine, and began talking like we were long lost friends.
About an hour later, he asked, "How's about you and I retiring for the evening. I have a suit reserved for us, where we can stare of the New York sky line, or just make love all night long, ma chérie.
I looked him straight in the eyes, kissed his lips hard, and purred. "Well I don't care about the skyline baby; I cannot wait to be in your arms."
He helped me out of my chair, and we got into his car, and headed for out destination.
I wasn't long till we stepped inside the suite; the view took my breath away. I gazed at it for a bit, as he stowed our luggage.
He came up to me pulled me into his arms, and kissed me deep and hard. I felt the passion go clear to the center of my womanhood.
I laid my head against his chest as we held each other. I could feel his lonely heart beating in unison with mine. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tight. I looked into his eyes, as my soft green eyes tear up.
"I wish we lived closer to each other darling."
As a tear rolled down my cheek, he kissed it away. With an accent he uttered, "Me too damn-it."
"I could be your stress relief, your friend, lover, and mistress of delight."
His eyes twinkled with lust, "I'd be your man-toy, that you could take anywhere around the house."
I giggled, "I would too, by your hand—or cock."
"I would fuckin love it!"
"I know you would ... a man needs to feel loved, and have some sweet loving all night long."
"Can I be your sex slave?"
I loved the way he talked, his calming tone, and soft spoken words made my skin tingle with desire. My heart yearned for him.
"You're hired. I'd pay you with kisses and sex."
"I'd do whatever you wanted and fill the lustful wishes that you desire, my mistress."
Our lips met and parted, as our tongues did the dance of lovers lighting the fires of passion within us.
.... There is more of this story ...