Dear Ms. B

It started with an email entitled "Literotica feedback." Ms. B had read one of the stories I had authored, and fired off a feedback note, evidently in the throes of passion, telling me that I had made her cum. Well, I can't imagine a better first impression. And there was a return address! Hopefully, I replied, and after a week or so, there was another email from her, a bit more demure to be sure, but possibly the beginning of a lovely friendship.

Ms. B was a bit mysterious about her personal information. I think that she was married, but she would always avoid questions of that sort. When I asked about her sexual fantasies, however, she was most obliging, providing me with an astonishing variety of scenarios in fairly lurid detail.

As she became more comfortable with the arrangement, Ms. B sent me a photo. She looked a bit like that auburn-haired film star, the one with the big eyes, who has been in more than a few daring sex scenes during her celebrated career. Ms. B was also witty and well-read, but with a wild side that came out when the conversation turned to sex. And, she was a workaholic -- there were often lengthy gaps in our correspondence due to her professional responsibilities, during which I waited patiently, re-read her old emails, and -- well, you know.

Then, one day, she announced out of the blue that she was taking some vacation time, and proposed that we meet. I needed no persuading. We agreed upon a neutral location that I suggested, in Oregon. When the appointed day came, we had a rendezvous at the Portland airport, rented a car, and set off down the Oregon coast.

She looked like her photo, and her voice was nice and musical. We chatted amiably for a few hours as we drove down the coastline. Ms. B was wearing a creme-colored blouse and a burgundy wrap-around skirt, a fairly conservative ensemble. But the skirt had a slit which would expose a lot of thigh, when she wanted it to. I tried to keep my eyes on the road.

I took her to a place I know midway down the coast, where a discreet little old lady has a guest house that she rents out for the weekend. The coastline is very rugged there, with enormous rocks that are just plunked down in the middle of the surf, and lofty cliffs. In the nearby town we picked up a bucket of fresh oysters and a few bottles of champagne. Back at the guest house a blustery wind was blowing outside, as I fried up the oysters and served them to her along with some side dishes. It was cold outside, but cozy and warm inside. We dined in the living room, sitting on two overstuffed armchairs, facing one another with a coffee table and the dinner between us. Halfway through the meal I opened one of the champagne bottles and we put it away rather quickly, as we were having an animated conversation about this and that, and working up a thirst. Then there was a lull in the conversation. I looked across at her, in her cream-colored blouse and burgundy wrap-around skirt; she had kicked off your sandals. I thought to myself that her bare feet were very sexy. My jeans suddenly felt much too tight.

She pulled the champaign bottle from its ice bucket...nice and cold and wet...then she leaned back and lay sideways over the overstuffed arms of her chair. She held that dripping bottle just over her cream-colored blouse and let the cool droplets find her already peaked nipples...mmmm but that icy cold water just made them swell, and they pled to be released as they pressed hard from inside the soft sheer blouse. She took the fingers of her free hand and gently brushed over her needy tits, pulled each nipple up slowly and gently, and let her tits fall back in place.

She arched her back, and as she moved so very slowly, she pulled her outside leg up just enough to cause that seductive slit in her skirt fall to one side...my side... Perhaps a bit crassly, she drank from the bottle, then slid it down between her swollen tits, hugged herself so the bottle slightly disappeared, and arched her back once again for me. She lifted the bottle up and slowly poured some of the bubbly from the bottle all over her chest. Her blouse was now very soaked and clinging to her, so there was little left to the imagination. With uncharacteristic force, she ripped that blouse open and arched again, to let me see the swelling lust within her that I'd soon be attacking.

The candlelight heightened the visual, and while my cock had been hard for some time now, my hand now found its way between my legs. I saw Ms. B's eyes lock on to my hand as it came into contact with my cock, through the denim of my jeans. Her eyes widened with excitement, and she began arching and undulating. As my hand seized my cock, I kept my eyes on hers, and watched her increase the tempo of her writhing in her chair. She was holding herself, hands sliding up and down her neck, chest, and thigh. The side of her skirt fell upon farther now, so that the thin pink strap of the thong she was wearing peeked out at me. My tongue made a lap around my needy lips. I let out a gasp -- I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath with anticipation, and the mere sight of her entire leg and side exposed to me forced a much harder squeeze of my cock than I was ready for.

She slid the cold bottle up and down the side of her leg - her ankle, her calf, her thigh, her waist...it was only when the bottle reached her waist that I realized that her free hand had freed her from that skirt. She had pulled it apart and there she lay - the soaked thin material of her blouse open yet clinging to the sides of her chest. I was transfixed by her.shiny wet breasts and hard throbbing nipples ready for feasting.

She rested the bottom of the bottle on her flat stomach, just above the seam of the thong that was keeping her secret weapon under cover. She teased a little, slipping a finger thru the thin strap at her waist, pulling it tight and releasing it quickly, producing a harsh smack against her skin and mmmmm a welcome sting to match.

Suddenly my jeans were too confining. I stood up and wriggled out of them, and took a step toward Ms. B. My cock was now on the loose, erect, throbbing, rosy red, and pointing directly at her. I placed my hands on either side of it, letting my palms glide along its length, and letting Ms. B see the pleasure on my face as I enjoyed the sensation. I took another step toward her, and reached down to push the coffee table out of the way. Then my hand found my cock again. Ms. B made a muffled sound and sat up to face me, her gaze transfixed on my cock, which was about at eye level for her. I began to slowly stoke myself, not too fast. I masturbated lazily, teasing Ms. B, who I think wanted to see me lose control. I paused to take off my shirt; now I was fully naked. And then my hand returned again to my cock.

I was staring at her tits. They were wet and shiny and magnificent. I caught my breath. Then my eye moved to her crotch. As Ms. B saw where my gaze had strayed, she cleared her throat, and then shot me the most delightfully brazen smile. Then she slowly parted her thighs, giving me a panoramic view of the spreading stain made by her juices on the scant pink thong.

Involuntarily, my hand began to stroke my cock with greater speed and urgency. I fell to my knees, without losing my grip on my member, and shuffled a bit closer. Then I said to her, "Darling, please pull your thong aside and let me see."

She smiled, with kind of a glazed expression, and slowly complied. She revealed to me her pussy, plump and very wet. My hand on my cock, seemingly beyond my control now, quickened its tempo. I looked her in the eyes and said, "Put your finger inside." The smile on her face was gone now, replaced by a look of hungry agitation. She slowly inserted her finger into her pussy, and sensuously explored herself. "Feed me," I demanded.

She slowly withdrew her finger and offered it to my lips. Somehow, I stopped the motion of my hand on my cock, closed my eyes, and concentrated on the smell and taste of her as she gave her finger to my mouth. When I opened my eyes again, she stared intently into them for a moment, and then reached once more for her pussy. Her finger went in again, and then roamed around her clit for a moment, as her hips moved voluptuously, and she muttered something breathlessly. Then, in went the finger again, and then this time it journeyed to my waiting mouth. I sucked it eagerly, and I became aware that my hand was pumping my cock with renewed vigor. I heard her say, as if from far away, "Come on, Brian... come for me... come on me..." And I wanted to do what she asked. But suddenly there was something else I wanted more.

I rose to my feet, and drew her up to me, and kissed her for the first time. Her kiss was wantonly erotic. As we kissed, I eased her thong down over her hips, and she shook them a little to let it fall to the floor. I felt her wet tits rubbing against me, and my cock rubbed against her belly. She pulled me close to trap it between us. But then I pushed her away, just enough to allow my hand to make its way to her crotch.

As we continued a slow, wet, luxurious kiss, my hand came to rest on her mound. Her sex was so swollen and hot! My finger glided easily between her lips into her liquid center, and I groaned with pleasure at the feel of it. I broke off the kiss so that I might whisper hoarsely to her, "Ms. B... I love your cunt!" At which point she kissed me even wider and deeper, while writhing a little to force her pussy against my hand. Maybe I could make her cum with my fingers... god, that would be exciting.

But then another impulse overtook me. I sat down on the armchair, leading the still-standing Ms. B over to face me. I licked some of the champagne off her lovely tits, avoiding her nipples. I pulled back to smile at her, and to gaze in admiration at her tits, before licking them again. As I lapped up the champagne, I dipped my finger again into her pussy, glorying in the feel of it, and then brought it out, so that I might reach up and paint one of her nipples with pussy juice. Then, with an blissful smile, I pulled her close, so that I could suck that nipple, hungry for the taste of her pussy juice, and the feel of her taut nipple in my mouth. It was her turn to groan now. We repeated the experiment with the other nipple, and I continued to massage her clit as I feasted on her nipples. She kept talking to me as I did it. The words were meaningless. The tone of her voice said it all.

My cock needed attention. I stood up, and motioned for her to take my place on the armchair, and as soon as she was seated, I seized her head and guided her mouth to my cock. "MMmmmm," she said, as she slowly took it to the hilt. I felt incredibly aroused, and near climax, as soon as she began to suck me. "Do you want me to cum?" I stammered. She wouldn't break off contact to speak, but the low growling noise she made as she continued to devour me made her intentions clear. Yet I had another idea.

I gently but firmly extricated my cock from her hungry mouth, pushed her back on the chair, and fell to my knees before her. I reached my hands under her legs, lifting them and drawing her toward me, as I nuzzled her thighs, savoring her frangrance and staring from close range at her gorgeous pussy. I'll never forget the urgency in her voice as she cried, "Brian, set your mouth free on me!" I seized her ass and drew her cunt to my mouth. Voraciously I probed her depths with my tongue, and then dragged my tongue voluptuously upward against her clit. She was writhing and her muscles contracted, threatening to smother me between her thighs, so I gripped them and held them forcibly apart -- I wanted complete access to her delicious pussy. I could tell that she was seconds away from cumming -- so I stopped.

I rose again and offered my cock to her mouth. She cried out in excitement and began to suck it with renewed intensity. I quickly felt my orgasm approaching like an onrushing freight train, so I broke it off again, as she groaned in a combination of excitement and disappointment. I knelt once more before her and began sucking her nipples again, while tweaking the one I wasn't sucking. She was making sounds again that suggested that she might cum from this alone, so I stood up, helped her up, and kissed her. I almost thought that I could cum from the feel of her tongue swirling around mine, as she rubbed her tits and belly against me.

I smiled at her, then stepped away and poured two glasses of champagne. We were both trembling as we clinked them together, then drained them. I took her hand, and led her to the bedroom. As if by some pre-arranged choreography in slow motion, we took our places on the bed, pointing in opposite directions, and slowly, gracefully drew ourselves to one another in a side-by-side 69. She propped her upper leg up so that I could bury my face deep in her pussy, and I did the same for her. Slowly, slowly, but with fierce intensity, we sucked each other relentlessly to simultaneous eruption, relishing it, crying out in satisfaction.

It was the beginning of a lovely friendship. I was lost in space for a moment, until I became aware that she was once again sucking my cock, and it was fully erect. I gave her pussy a deep, probing kiss, and then sat up. "Sit on my lap," I said. She faced me and straddled my lap, slowly impaling her pussy with my cock. I seized her ass and began to move her up and down, feeling her glorious cunt contract around me.

As we fucked slowly and powerfully, she told me that we had unfinished business. She was holding me tight and speaking huskily into my ear, talking about things that we had begun that she wanted to return to before the weekend was over. "I want to get back in that chair," she said, "and have you kneel on the floor and stroke your cock. I'll feed you juice from my pussy. But this time, I want you to jack off until you cum. I want you to spurt all over me. Oh!" she cried out in orgasm, and her pussy clenched deliciously around my cock.

I paused for a few seconds, and then resumed fucking her, not faster, but deeper. She continued her commentary. "I want you to finger-fuck me while you suck my tits." She rubbed them wantonly against my chest at this point, squirming her hips in my lap, as I cried out and plunged my cock all the way inside her. "I'll let you make me cum with your hand!" She interrupted her little talk as she groaned loudly with another orgasm.

"And after that," she gasped, "I want to sixty-nine with you all day long. I want to see how many times you can cum in my mouth..." At this point I interrupted her, shouting to her that I was cumming.

And, as it turned out, we did it all.