First Meeting - From Webcam to Real

The sound of Peter Gabriel's vocals washed over him as he closed his eyes and put his head back, silently moving his lips to the lyrics of 'In Your Eyes'.

Striptease

He was on the verge of drifting off, when he was brought out of his reverie by the quiet closing of the bedroom door. Marnie had returned -- and that was not the only surprise -- she was still wearing her gown and all that went with it, and holding a CD in her hand. Des looked up and smiled:

'I didn't expect you'.

She raised her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, and looked him straight in the eye.

Then, she came to him across the room and bent forward, kissing him long and hard on the lips. After his initial shock, he returned the kiss with interest, but as her soft, moist lips worked on his, and her tongue slid over his teeth, he started to pull her towards him.

She pushed him back, holding out the flat of her hand, indicating that he should stay where he was. He watched, amazed and amused as she walked to the CD player, ejected his selection, and put in a CD of her own.

It was at this point that he realised how right he had been -- there had, indeed been a plan, and this was Marnie's part in it -- and although he might feel rather like a marionette, he didn't care -- all that interested him was what happened next.

Before playing the CD, Marnie came over to him, and sat down. She leaned in close to him and whispered:

'Stay where you are, don't say anything and don't move from this seat. If you do, I stop.'

Stop what, he wondered -- there was nothing to stop as yet. She leaned forward and kissed him again -- long and deep -- but broke away before he was ready, a smile playing on her lips.

'This is for you, and only you -- a one shot deal, never happened before, and will never happen again. Enjoy it -- make me happy.'

Marnie glided round to the CD player and pressed 'play'. Des recognised the song immediately -- the heavy blues/rock sound of Joe Bonamasa -- Feelin' Good -- the stunning update of Nina Simone's classic. For so long, Des had adored the song, but always held the belief that it would be an awesome song to strip to!

Marnie had moved in front of him, and was swaying her hips -- a private dance for him. She ran her hands over the sides of her body in an erotic gesture, synchronised to the sensual sounds of the music. Her hands over her head, she swung her hips round in circles, moving her head in time, her hair shaking loose around her face.

She turned away from him, sliding her gloved hands down, across her buttocks, spreading her legs apart and sliding her hands down, demonstrating her flexibility, as she bent forward, presenting her backside to him, as the fabric of the dress tightened around its contours.

Steadily and smoothly, she stood upright, running her hands through her hair, and turning to offer a profile view, as she stretched up, allowing him to enjoy her perfectly proportioned figure. Facing him again, she leaned forward, holding his eye, challenging him to stare at her body rather than her face.

Des was utterly mesmerised, wondering where this was leading, not daring to think of it as anything more than a private dance to one of his favourite pieces of music, and not wanting the song to end. As he gazed, Marnie flexed her wrist upwards, and caught the fingers of her left glove in her right hand. She gently tugged each finger loose, before sliding it off her hand and arm.

She toyed with the glove, stretching it between her fingers, running it around her neck and over her shoulder, before placing it neatly and gently on the table.

She turned her back to Des, this time raising her hands over her head, so Des could watch her loosen each finger above her head, while taking her swaying buttocks. Again she removed the glove, and it almost seemed as if the exposure of her arms alone increased the erotic tension. Once again, she moved to the table and laid the glove gently with its partner.

To this point, the dance had been sensual and her movements like those of a free spirit, totally in tune with herself and almost inward looking, as if she was dancing for a mirror (as she no doubt had to prepare this carefully choreographed routine). The removal of the gloves marked a change in step, from sensual to sexual.

Her hands slid up her body again, but this time, rather than remaining to her sides, they stopped at her breasts, and moved round to caress them lovingly, squeezing gently and pushing them together.

It seemed to Des, that although this might still remain an introverted dance - perhaps of self-arousal, she was now focusing on her audience, and revelling in their rapt attention. Moving from her breasts, her hands travelled to her thighs. She was unable to stimulate herself through the material, but pressed her hands into her crotch, maybe causing the garment touching her to rub gently, bring her greater pleasure.

Des could feel his hardness as he watched the gyrations of this fully dressed, yet erotically charged muse, and once again asked himself the question -- where was this leading? The song would end all too soon, and what then?

Turning her back to him, Marnie's hand reached up behind her to the zip on her dress. Slowly, with attention to every fractional movement, she slid the zip all the way down, exposing her back, the smooth, lightly tanned skin only broken by the narrow, red strap of her bra. She turned again, sliding one arm, with grace and fluidity out of the dress, followed by the other.

The simple fact that she had achieved this, without looking as if she was undressing for a shower was a clear demonstration of her natural athleticism. She held the dress across her breasts, still swaying, closing her eyes in ecstasy as she again presented her back to him. She allowed the dress to fall, knowing that her full hips would prevent it from descending to the floor sooner than was appropriate.

She raised her arms over her head, her hips switching from side to side, and allowed her hands to fall to her head, running through her hair again, before descending to her breasts. Now, Des knew, she could feel their contours more easily, probably finding her nipples to tease through the bra, which Des could now see was red with a black lace trim.

Her hands now fell to her waist, and with a gentle nudge, she slipped the dress over her hips, and slipped it down her legs, revealing a matching set of underwear -- high leg panties -- red satin with black lace trim, and complemented with stockings and suspender belt.

As she bent forward, the material of her panties became taut, showing the perfection of her backside -- no hint of cellulite, but not wasted and boyish as seems to be the modern trend. As she bent further, Des could see the lips of her private parts, and conjectured whether she would be shaven or trimmed -- whichever it was, there was no hint of hair against the black lace.

The dress was off, and she turned to face him, dressed in matching lingerie, and black high heeled shoes -- striking a model pose as the song finished, pushing her hipto the side, leaning forward. As she did, Des began to move. Immediately she raised a finger to her lips indicating that he should be silent, and showed him the palm of hand -- stay where you are! The next piece of music started: heavy, raunchy chords, a different mood again, as her hips flicked vigorously side to side. As the lyrics began, it was another song he instantly recognised:

'I don't want you to be no slave

I don't want you to work all day

But I want you to be true

And I just wanna ...'

Suddenly, he was aware of the implication of the choice -- and the fact that it was barely three minutes long!

She moved to him, using her best catwalk style, standing directly in front of him, legs straddling his knees. Her hips rotated before she turned through 180 degrees, presenting her satin covered ass to him, sliding her hands down her legs, bending forward, stretching the material tight, offering a close up of what he had so far only seen from a distance.

She straightened up , moving away from him, placing foot in front of foot, before spinning to face him. Her hands reached up behind her back, unclipping her bra, and moving quickly round to hold it across her breasts as the straps fell down her shoulders and the detached clip fell to either side.

Des was aware now of his breathing, rapid and shallow; his penis rigid against his belly; his stomach fluttering and knotted in anticipation.

Turning away from him, she slid the bra off her arms, and dropped it to the floor. Once again her hands caressed her flesh, this time rising to her breasts, and, although he could not see clearly, he was certain she was teasing her nipples to ensure they were fully proud and erect.

Folding her arms across her breasts, she turned again, and walked towards him. Once again, standing close, she manoeuvred one arm to cover both breasts, and raised her leg, placing it next to him on the seat.

Single handed, she bent forward, so near that he could feel her breath on him, and unfastened her shoe. Lifting her foot out, she replaced the stockinged foot on the floor, before raising the other leg and repeating the process. She turned again, arms to her side and walked away from him. Stopping, she placed a hand on each thigh, and continued the bump and grind with her hips.

Using both hands, she unclipped the stockings from the suspender belt. Placing her leg out to the side, and stretching as far as possible, as if exercising, she ran her hands down, sliding off the stocking. He was treated to a fleeting glimpse of the underside of her breast -- and was that a flash of nipple?

She stood up again, sliding the other stockinged foot across the floor, again, removing the stocking, leaving nothing but the red and black panties.

Once again, she turned, a smile on her face, and walked to him, breasts still covered. As she reached him, she stopped directly between his feet, and bent forward, placing each hand behind his head as she did so, letting her breasts fall free, but so near that he could not see them clearly.

Gently she pulled him to her, placing his face directly between her breasts, so he could feel their swollen, silky smooth warmth on his cheeks. Again, she stood, turning around in one fluid movement, offering a full view of her body, but so fleeting that it was impossible to register any detail.

Remaining close, she hooked her fingers into the sides of her panties, bending as she slid them down her thighs and legs, offering him a close-up, unrestricted view of her most intimate parts -- delicate, as a budding flower, moist and ready for what was to follow. Now totally naked, Des was once again aware of the music, and the final lyrics:

'I don't want you sad and blue,

And I just wanna make love to you.

...Love to you...

...Love to you...Ooooohhooh...

...Yeah, love to you...Ooooh.

...Love to you...'

His other 'perfect strip' song -- Nina Simone -- he had told her so many times, and she had done this for him, and him alone.

As the last chord sounded, she rolled to the floor, again slipping directly into a model pose -- supported on one elbow, lying on her side, with one knee raised while the other stretched along the floor. She was exposing herself to him completely -- utterly beautiful, beyond words or description -- his muse, his Aphrodite in her full perfection as he gazed on, rendered mute by the scene and the performance as a whole.

She held the pose, allowing Des to take in every detail. She seemed confident, but Des was aware that this was not necessarily so. For so many years of online chatting, they had shared intimacies, and he knew full well that she had found it incredibly difficult to simply be herself, which was all he had ever wanted. Now, after years of secrets and hiding, at times even outright deceit, here she was, making a statement -- 'this is me ..all of me.. and it's all yours -- no hiding, everything exposed -- physically and psychologically'.

Just as suddenly, the spell was broken by a simple smile. They held each other's eyes, smiling, happy -- almost joyful as the moment which both had so desired approached rapidly. Marnie sat up, then moved to her knees and shuffled across the floor to Des. As she reached him, she leaned in and whispered into his ear:

'Stay still and enjoy'.

Oddly, Des had never imagined her as controlling, but if this was what she wanted -- so be it. Maybe this was her way of protecting herself. So long as she was in charge, nothing bad could happen.

She moved in front of him, and placed her lips firmly upon his. He responded fervently, wanting to embrace her, but remembering her request. He opened his mouth to allow their tongues to do battle, feeling her explore his mouth, before forcing her back and tracing along her teeth. She responded in the same way, and he enjoyed playfully nibbling her, then sucking her tongue into his mouth.

Each was playing with the other. Games, fun -- sexy fun -- suggestive fun -- humorous, making both giggle -- the trusting kiss of people who have known each other for many years and are determined to savour every second.

Suddenly, Marnie pulled back, still smiling. Looking him in the eye, she unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his trousers and leaning forward to kiss his chest and trace lines with her tongue -- neck to nipple, nipple to nipple, nipple to navel -- sucking gently on his nipples and descending low to run her tongue along his waistband.

It was so tantalising, and he knew she must be able to feel his rock hard erection as her breasts pressed into his crotch. Once again, she leaned back, this time pulling him forward so she could slide the shirt off his shoulders.

Realising the potentially ludicrous situation which was developing, Des took the chance to lean round and remove his socks -- few things can be more absurd than a man naked, apart from socks - and then responded to her gentle pressure to lean back again.

She undid the fastening and zip on his trousers, almost impatiently now in comparison to the measured build up, hooked her fingers into the waistbands of both trousers and shorts and pulled them down in a smooth, fluid movement.

Had Des not been aware of her limited sex life back home, which she had told him (and he believed) had been extremely sparse since the betrayal of a former lover, he would have thought her well-practised, almost like a lap dancer. He believed, however, that it was just this -- practice -- and it had made her perfect, their synergy apparent in every movement.

Pulling his remaining clothes over his feet, she looked up and smiled at him, meeting his eyes, before looking down to his rigid penis, which, despite feeling a foot long to him, remained at its usual eight inches -- and incredibly -- almost painfully hard.

She raised herself once again, kissing him on the lips, her breasts firm and nipples erect as she leaned her body against his. Now she had left his arms free to pass around her, embracing her gently, stroking the firm flesh of her back and running up and down her spine from neck to the cleft of her buttocks. He was desperate to touch her sexually, to feel her breasts and buttocks, slide his hand between her legs and slip a finger gently into the moist warmth between them, but he knew this was her show, and rushing would not be right. Only with patience would come perfection.

Once again she slid down his body, her tongue leaving a moist trail down his chest and stomach. Her hand moved round, gently touching his manhood before guiding it into her mouth. The first touch of her warm lips and tongue almost made him ejaculate -- only age and restraint making him withhold.

Cupping his balls gently in her hands, occasionally applying gentle pressure as her mouth worked up and down his shaft, tongue lapping around his glans, making it wet and, as she withdrew, glistening slightly in the soft light. Still she wasn't finished, licking from tip to base, making him desperate for her in a way which he had never felt before.

Finally, this desperation broke the spell which had enchanted him, and leaning forward, he gently lifted her by the shoulders, manoeuvring her onto the sofa beside him. Now, while his hands explored her body freely, he finally cupped and held her breasts, while she stroked him gently.

He pulled her nipples gently, breaking their kiss occasionally to gaze at the deep pink areola and their outstanding central feature, eventually moving his mouth to cover each nipple in turn, drawing them in, encircling them with his tongue, biting gently but firmly, making her shiver as goosebumps rose on her body.

As his hand slid between her thighs, she parted her legs, welcoming his touch as his middle finger slipped easily between her labia, meeting the hard nub of her clitoris and making her gasp as her breathing deepened and became more rapid. Ignoring the temptation to slip his finger into her vagina, he continued to tease, stroking, tapping and rubbing as his fingers parted her swollen lips.

As she had moved down his body, so he did to her. First wriggling his tongue in her navel, then moving down, licking the inside of her thighs, teasing her and making her moan as she prepared herself for his final move.

Several times he worked his tongue around her inner thighs and lower stomach until an impatient grunt made him decide it was time to move to her most sensitive parts.

He licked greedily, lapping her juices and becoming light headed with her scent. Placing his hands under her legs, he raised them until her feet were on the sofa, exposing her completely to his attention. As he licked her clitoris, he inserted first one finger, the two into her vagina, pressing into the front wall, feeling and hearing the slick lubricant which she was now producing copiously and mixing with his saliva.

His hands moved around to her buttocks, grabbing them firmly, his fingers touching soft skin and spreading her wide. She writhed and arched her back as the first orgasm overcame her. Des almost smiled, knowing that he had always used his tongue skilfully, and delighted that his ability had not let him down on this occasion.

Marnie returned her feet to the floor as Des worked his way up her body again, stopping to feast on her breasts once more before returning to her mouth. She tasted her own personal emanations on his tongue, his lips, and found herself revelling in it for the first time. A taste and scent she had never experienced before except on her own fingers -- her previous lovers having cared little for her own pleasure and wishing only to receive, rather than give oral stimulus.

Now she felt his erection nudging at her sex, parting her labia, though fractionally missing the entrance which it sought. Her hand fell from his back, passing over his buttocks before moving round to guide him inside her.

He entered her smoothly, sliding in to his full length, and for a brief while stayed there, motionless before beginning slow, long thrusts. None of the urgency of so many first time lovers, none of the need to satisfy himself first and disregard her pleasure which she had so often experienced.

She might have thought him unenthusiastic, but knew, without doubt, that what she was experiencing was the perfect union of their bodies and minds and the desire that this union should be everything they had both hoped for and expected.

As he thrusted, her pleasure increased again, still sensitive after her first orgasm, and she realised that she was about to climax for a second time. She abandoned herself to her urges, her vagina squeezing rhythmically on him, squeezing and releasing as more fluid eased his motion within her.

Then, suddenly, he stopped and withdrew. She wondered if he had finished and she simply hadn't noticed, being too intent on her own release, but soon realised she was wrong. He was reclining back on the floor, drawing her on top of him, positioning her and entering her with no need for assistance this time. She placed her hands on his chest and began to slide up and down, withdrawing until he almost fell out before sliding down to feel him deep within her.