tagErotic CouplingsThe Visit: Friday

The Visit: Friday

byDickVesuvius©

Sharon and I had already worked out most of the details via email. My flight, arrival time, and most importantly the exact spot we'd meet at the airport. We were emailing a few last minute things leading up to our meeting in person for the first time. After all the arrangements, identifying me surfaced again.

"How will I know it's you," Sharon asked.

"If you look anything like the pictures you've sent to me, I'll know you," I replied confidently.

"Not fair. I've shared mine but you haven't shared anything. How will I know it's you and not some guy just trying to pick me up?"

There was truth there. I initiated contact with Sharon after reading one of her stories online. After enjoying the first, I read more and wasn't disappointed in any of the stories. While each story was definitely erotic, it wasn't the eroticism that made me reach out to her. It was the fact that her stories, unlike others I had read, were well written. She had a command of language and I appreciated that. Her stories had style, a clear voice, an authentic one—at least to me. Reading them, I got insights to she was thinking and how she felt during her sexual exploits. I felt I knew her. Her picture on the author bio page was a sheer bonus because she looked stunning. I remember thinking that it probably was the photo of some anonymous person pulled from the web to protect her own real identity.

I was pleased that she took time to she wrote back to me after I complimented her on a story via email. We exchanged more after that, including some photos she sent to me. She was right. What I knew of her was far more than she knew of me. She was beautiful and she probably got way more than her share of dumb pick-up lines.

"So, what are you asking me to do? Wear a pink carnation, or a bowtie, use a code word, or something?"

"No. That's not what I'm saying. It just doesn't seem fair," she said.

"Life's not fair. I want you to be surprised. Trust me, you'll know," I said.

The hours I spent in flight to Rochester seemed an eternity. During the flight, I thought back on how we met, the exchanges we had, and most importantly, my growing desire to meet her. I felt a chemistry and attraction. Did she feel it too? Would I be disappointed because the real chemistry didn't live up to the virtual chemistry? Was this all a hoax? What would be the point of that? Should I really go through with this? Where is this going? There was a lot to process.

I reread emails and replayed our chats in my mind trying to pick them apart, looking for inconsistencies, some reason to bail. I couldn't find any warning signs. I knew I had to follow through. If I didn't, I'd regret not meeting her for the rest of my life. I had a feeling our meeting would be electric and I wanted it badly. If it didn't' work out, we'd not live with the burden of a "what if " that never came to be.

I took a deep breath as the wheels touched down and we taxied to the terminal. I knew it wouldn't be long now.

After the erotic fantasies that filled the flight time.it felt good to loosen my seatbelt because my cock and balls ached from being constrained since Chicago. I hadn't realized how hard it got as I was thinking about her during the flight. I wondered if my seat mate noticed or maybe the stewardess. Was that why she nodded approval when she walked through the cabin checking to see that the passenger's seat belts were fastened before our final descent? I took another deep breath and collected my carry on and walked down the jet way, through the terminal, and towards the baggage claim and car rentals. I didn't have any baggage to claim and didn't expect to need a car.

I knew her instantly. She was standing there looking a bit pensive as she surveyed each male passenger. I loved how she was dressed, classy with a hint of provocative--respectably sexy. The red heels were a nice touch. Right out of one of her stories. On the spur of the moment I decided to have some fun. I fixed my eyes on the far end of the terminal and pretended not to notice her. Then I walked past her knowing full well that she was clueless about what I looked like. It worked. After I was safely beyond her, I stopped and turned back to watch her. She kept scanning other passengers streaming down the hallway, looking for me.

I suddenly realized she might think I stood her up. I quickly had second thoughts about my stupid joke.

I circled back towards her, moving closer. I watched her from behind but slightly to the side so I could see her face. She kept waiting, looking expectantly towards the other passengers now gathering near the baggage carousel. Getting closer behind her, I leaned in until I could almost feel her hair on my cheek. What was the fragrance I smelled?

I almost whispered in my soft baritone voice so that only she could hear, "You have great tits."

She immediately recognized that I quoted a pick up line from one of her stories. I knew she'd get my subtle joke. Her humor came through in her stories too. She spun around and looked me.

"So I've been told," she replied before continuing the joke, "Hi Bob, no wait you're not Bob. You're Joe. No you're not Joe. You're Tom. Is that right? Well regardless of who you are, I know I'm gorgeous Sharon."

I laughed. The ice was broken.

Without a pink carnation or bowtie, I looked pretty ordinary. Probably like a lot of other nondescript travelers dressed in faded Levi's and white shirt. I dropped my carry on as we embraced for the first time. She felt great. My arms wrapped around her and her body contoured to mine like we were made for each other. I've been told never to be the person to break a hug. Feeling like I was right then, I knew it was sound advice.

We hugged for a while. Pulling back, I looked into her eyes, held her head, felt my fingers run through her hair, and kissed her. She responded positively and returned my affection.

Soon after our lips met, hers parted encouraging more. Our tongues teased; tender but firm, wanting and inviting. I felt my blood race. My face was flushed. My dick began to harden. My arms encircled her tighter. One wrapped around her back and upwards towards her breast. The other moved downward so I could cup one of her ass cheeks in my hand. This was going great. Sharon's hands were by no means idle either.

Discretely one of her hands drifted down my chest, past my belt. I could feel her hand tracing the outline of my cock through the fabric of my pants. I knew she was sizing me up, and in the process, adding significantly to my excitement.

How long did we kiss and grope? What did others seeing us think? I was kind of expecting someone to tap me on the shoulder and suggest that we "get a room." But it didn't happen.

Here I was. In the arms of a woman I had grown to know and develop some feelings for over the last couple of months. Our hands roamed freely and I'm sure we put on a pretty R-rated performance considering we were in the airport terminal. Sharon told me she was a bit of an exhibitionist, so I already knew she didn't care. I certainly didn't give a fuck because I knew no one there except Sharon. It felt so good.

After we separated I glanced around and could see we were indeed the subject of some attention among those still waiting or wandering through the airport. An elderly couple seemed scandalized. A young couple in their 20's seemed relieved that we diverted attention away from their own steamy reunion. A black guy near the carousel nodded approvingly and turned away after we turned to walk towards the exit and parking. I put my arm around her as we walked towards her car. She hung her thumb inside the back pocket of my pants resting her hand on my ass.

I walked her to the driver's side of her car. As she unlocked the car, I felt a bit awkward. Should I be a gentleman and open her door? I decided to err on the side of good manners. I stood there until she was inside then shut her door and walked to the other side.

I threw my bag into the back and climbed into the passenger seat. When she got in the driver's seat, Sharon's skirt slid up her leg revealing great legs. We were soon on the highway. We shared some obligatory chit chat about the flight and then relived our meeting, spontaneous attraction, and laughed heartily about the reactions we noticed in the airport. I looked so study her face backlight at times by the rhythm of the streetlights we passed and other times lit by the oncoming traffic. She was more beautiful than the pictures she had shared before our meeting.

"I have to tell you," I began, "that I've built this up a great deal in my imagination leading up to now."

"Do I meet your approval?"

"Absolutely and then some. I loved your pictures, but reality is so much better."

As a sign of affection I reached over to put my hand on her thigh. She separated her legs more and slid downward into the seat and rotated her hips slightly upward clearly indicating her desire as well as facilitating my access. I turned in my seat towards her to improve my reach. I ran my hand northward teasingly.

"You're not wasting any time," she said.

"We've only got a weekend, so there's not a lot of time to waste." I paused before continuing, "Is that a complaint?"

"Not at all."

The skin of her leg was smooth and reaching the top I felt her panties. My fingers ran up and down the center several times before my middle finger hooked the inner side of her panties to pull them aside. Then I slipped my index finger underneath. Once inside her panties I added my middle finger to the now skin to skin rubbing.

"Let me know if I distract you too much from driving," I said, fingering her.

She was shaved. That's wasn't a surprise, she had told me before and I had no reason to doubt her.. I had seen her pictures too. I took my time tracing my fingertip through the folds of her pussy before gaining entrance. She was wet, warm, welcoming. She sighed as my two fingers found their way inside her. As I continued exploring, her eyes began to soften and glaze slightly. I used my fingers to tease the length of her slit slowly upwards and then a little faster downward back to the opening. Repeating, sometimes lingering at the top to coax her clit to attention with my fingertips. I could tell she was enjoying the feeling almost as much as I was enjoying providing it to her. Being on the giving end of arousal can be as much fun as being on the receiving end.

"Do we have far to go to get to your place?" I asked breaking the silence.

"Thankfully not much further," she said.

I nodded. Shortly after that she took an exit ramp.

As we drove down a street with restaurants she abruptly woke from her daze of enjoyment. She asked,

"Are you hungry? I'm sorry. I didn't think to ask earlier. You were on the flight for a while, right?"

"Only for you. Let's get to your place."

My eyes drifted to her right foot. I saw her press her red heel downward. We accelerated. I kept fingering. I had no idea how far we needed to drive and fully expected to have to pull over to take care of each other. My excitement was building, knowing the effect I was having on her. I hoped we would be there soon.

We were no sooner in the door then she turned and pressed herself against me--sandwiching me to the door. I appreciated that she not only knew what she wanted but that she wasn't shy about expressing it. She grabbed my cock and balls in her hand. I started hiking up her skirt. I was instantly hard again. We began kissing and fondling and our breathing got heavy. It was like the airport all over again except that rating was now getting pretty close to being X.

Taking a break from a deep kiss, Sharon said, "I'm so horny/"

She echoed my feeling precisely. "You kind of got me pretty excited in the car. I didn't think we'd ever get here. I want you!"

I'm 6' 1, and fairly strong. I picked her up easily. I held her against me with her ass in my hands. She made holding her easier for me and more intimate by wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling her torso tighter to mine. I know it was tough for her to do that given the constraints of her skirt. I could feel her tits pressed tightly to my chest. Her nipples were hard. I felt them even through her bra. One of my fingers slipped into her pussy from behind. It was warm and silky wet. I stroked in and out several times and spread her wetness around the opening.

Where? Living room? Kitchen counter? I needed to make a decision. Bedroom.

We continued kissing as I carried her through the house in the direction of where I thought the bedroom was. She kind of guided me by moving her head nodding direction. We never broke our kiss and she didn't say a word. Once inside the bedroom, we began feeling each other up again like we were teenagers. It didn't take long to shed clothing. Each piece I removed brought a new revelation and a new feast for my eyes.

While I had seen most of Sharon's body in photographs, I didn't lie when I said earlier that they didn't do justice to the reality before me. I was nearly breathless with desire, light headed. It was dreamlike. I tried to absorb everything--trying to etch every little detail on my brain so that I could recall each one sometime in the future, but the intensity was overwhelming. She was intoxicating.

I pulled her close to me and kissed her. My hands went instantly to her ample breasts. Her nipples were already hard with desire. I rubbed them with my thumbs as I grasped her tits with my hands feeling their weight. They were completely natural and simply amazing. As she pushed my head downward, I knew she wanted my mouth and tongue on them. I eagerly complied tasting one then the other, sucking, teasing, kissing, flicking, taunting each in turn. First one, then the other, repeating. My hands moved lower to her ass. I cupped a cheek in each hand as I continued to feast on her breasts with my mouth.

My middle finger probed upwards towards her pussy from behind. She gasped a little when my fingers entered her again. It was because all the teasing brought her that which we now both wanted. For me it was a signal of intense desire. She was tight. I resumed working her pussy with my fingers, plunging deep with my index and middle finger. My thumb reached upwards and rubbed her clit--sometimes in circles and sometimes up and down. Her breath quickened. I knew she was probably on the brink from the pent up anticipation of our meeting, us making out in the airport, the teasing in the car and now in her home. My left hand continued working on her right breast, my mouth moved between her left breast and her mouth, as my right hand worked her pussy over.

"It's OK love. Come for me." I said, as though she really needed for me to give her my permission for that to happen. Just then she did. I felt her body stiffen and heard her moan. I could feel her pussy tighten in my hand. I didn't move and continued to hold her tight to me, letting her savor the feeling and the intimacy.

I was disappointed when she pushed my head away from her beautiful breasts. I was not disappointed when she knelt in front of me to get her first good look at my cock. If the stories she wrote were true, I knew I wouldn't be her largest. I'm better than average in length and girth. I hoped to be exceptional in other ways. She wrapped her hand around my cock and a drop of precum appeared at the tip. Her other hand encircled my balls.

"These are pretty heavy. Let's see what I can do about these," she said before extending her tongue to the tip of my cock to taste the pre cum. She backed her head away and I could see a long sticky thread of precum extend between the tip of my cock and her tongue. Just as it seemed it could stretch no further, she moved back towards my cock so it didn't drip. I leaned back onto my elbows while sitting on the edge of the bed so I would be comfortable as well as be in a good position to enjoy the view.

"Good girl. Don't waste a drop," I said approvingly.

I moaned as her lips wrapped around the head. Her tongue worked its magic stroking the sensitive underside of my glans. Then she'd run her tongue down the length of my shaft, her hands alternating between caressing my balls and stroking my shaft when her mouth enveloped my head. After a couple of minutes of resisting from touching her, I couldn't restrain myself any longer, my hands grasped each side of her head and my fingers went through her hair. As tempting as it would be to take control forcing the conclusion of things, I didn't. Touching her hair was temporarily enough for me. I really wanted to experience the pleasure she was so willing to give me in her own way and in her own time. I relaxed in preparation for the ride.

She worked her way down the shaft. I was impressed with how deep she took me and her technique. She'd let me slide out and get a quick breath before swallowing me again. She was literally fucking me with her mouth. It felt good. I moaned. She had great rhythm and technique but most importantly, she was enthusiastic. While I've had other women give me blow jobs, not enough do it with enthusiasm. From her approach and technique, I knew Sharon took special delight in pleasing men this way. Periodically she would look up at me to try to read my expressions and plan her next move. Her skill and the pleasure it gave to me made it quite difficult for me to keep my eyes open, but when we made eye contact, I felt so connected. I could feel my excitement build and my balls tightening getting ready to lose the load that had been building.

Just as I was about to lose it again and grab her head and take control making her finish me deep inside her mouth, she seemed to sense me being on the brink. She prolonged my ecstasy by backing off and changing technique--using her tongue up and down my shaft. Was it ecstasy or anguish when I cried out and she didn't finish me off immediately? She continued. Circling my dick at times, teasing the tip at others, taking me into her mouth sometimes, using her mouth and hands to tease my cock and my balls. I was in heaven and she knew it. She looked up at me to see my reaction.

"Oh my god," I cried out, "you're amazing. It's like you're reading my mind..."

My voice was husky and guttural when I said, "Sharon,fuck me with your mouth. Suck me you slut."

She slowed down only long enough to say "We're just starting our weekend. Don't hold back. Come for me love."

Then, never losing eye contact with me, she engulfed my cock and put me over the brink.

All orgasms feel good. Some, though, seem to come from deep within your core. This was one of those.

As I erupted into her mouth, she kept pace until the very end, when a small amount leaked from the corner of her mouth. I looked down at her approvingly.

"That was incredible, love. Beyond anything I ever imagined and I have a pretty vivid imagination."

We laughed. She climbed up onto the bed and I moved next to her. We rested there for a while--our hands stroking each other's bodies as we looked at each other. Sometimes looks communicate volumes words can't. I brushed her hair from her face and looked deeply into her eyes, then began kissing her again. My hands roamed her body, breasts, legs, ass, pussy. My lips broke from hers and moved towards her breasts. My tongue traced its way through her peaks and valleys lingering there. God she's got great tits, I thought. Then I slowly moved down her tummy to her navel. That was just a detour to my true destination--her pussy--soon to be the target of my attention and affection.

Some men don't enjoy cunnilingus. I don't understand why. I love the feeling of pussy on my tongue and lips, the sounds and the sights of seeing my woman come from me eating her. I was especially looking forward to seeing and feeling Sharon cum.

When I eat pussy, I take my time. It's not meant to be rushed. I've found each woman's preferences are different and that if you tune into the woman, she'll guide you with subtle movements. You'll sense where to direct your attention, whether to lick or suck, the speed to do it, and deliver the level of pressure she likes.

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byDickVesuvius© 1 comments/ 9925 views/ 2 favorites

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