At first I agonized over having seduced her. Later, I came to the conclusion we seduced each other. Once she got that first lesson she was an apt pupil. She took to sex like a fledgling takes to flight.
Our second encounter was your basic explosion of hormones - not much finesse. Within days of our first fuck she web-mailed me this: I walk around wet all the time. I'm so wet I have to wipe myself. I fuck you every night in my fantasies.
She stood by the doorway, teetering slightly on the outsoles of her heels. Peering towards the corner, she made out the silhouette sitting casually in the leather sofa in the corner. Her eyes had not yet adjusted to the light, but the shaggy mane and the scent of clean musk were enough to tell her he had managed, yet again, to enter her home. She knew it was pointless to ask how. More important was why.
Gemma and I have been going out for over a year, and are very comfortable in each other’s company. We have great sex and are very compatible, except for one thing. I have developed something of an obsession with anal sex; something, that until recently, was a definite no-no. I managed to get my wicked way on my birthday, and that is what I’m going to tell you about here.
It began with a pair of panties, left in the wash by my wife, belonging to my niece, and the unmistakable fragrance of sweet, tender young pussy and fruits forbidden.
She had "blossomed" that summer, her breasts growing full and round like honeydew melons, her cheeks rose petal pink, her lips strawberry red, her cute navel peaking out from beneath her half shirts like the inner part of a morning glory, her ass...
The trip wasn’t long, it just seemed that way. Actually it was just a couple of hours. The jet engines roared as the pilot put them in reverse and the thrusters quickly slowed the plane down to taxi speed.
The entire trip my mind was playing considerable scenarios over and over. My hands were sweaty and my stomach was churning so much I’d passed the in-flight meal.