In Control

But he was obviously in no rush - and neither was I - and I revelled in the generous sprinkling of light butterfly kisses he placed on my ears, eyes and neck, in between them whispering a variety of sweet things, amongst them; how beautiful I was, how wittily intelligent, how just my eyes had completely captivated him, and, how unbelievable it seemed that he had been able to meet me.

Then his lips finally returned to mine and that kiss held far more passion - for both of us. As our tongues slid forward to twirl and twine in each other's mouth our arms encircled and brought us even more tightly together, and as I felt the already hardening length of him against my thigh, my pussy seemed to be turning to mush.

We held each other for several long minutes, neither one of us apparently wanting to foreshorten the pleasures we were feeling, but when we eventually did Martin took my face between those long, beautifully soft fingers and said - ‘This is your home ground Linda, so I leave it to you to decide what happens next. If you feel you would like more time to get to know me, I understand - but if not, well as your email implied, you enjoy having control, so it's up to you whether I stay, or go now.'

Those liquidly brown eyes stared deep into mine, and I knew exactly what answer he was hoping for - and of course it was the one I wanted to give. ‘I think we have only just started getting to know each Martin - why waste the time we have already spent together - I think we should see just how much more compatible we really are.'

He smiled, happily, then gave me a hug. ‘As I said, I really can't believe this is happening!' he whispered, then, as he released me, added. ‘Should I leave the next steps to you, or would you prefer me to begin undressing you?'

By way of reply I reached up and began un-knotting his tie, then, as he slipped out of his jacket, started working on his shirt buttons, leaning forward to kiss and nibble my way down over the flesh beneath it. Once more than half-way I was of course looking downward so took that opportunity to check out what was happening even lower - and saw that the bulge at his crotch certainly looked impressive.

But when I began to work on his belt, Martin stopped me. ‘Hold on a moment Linda, just let me get my shoes and socks off.' he said as he stepped back and reached down to do so.

That short break in proceedings also seemed too good an opportunity to miss of getting rid of my dress, so I unzipped it and carefully pulled it over my head, then turned to hang it on the seat of a nearby chair. When I turned back I saw him staring unblinkingly down at me. ‘Sweet Jesus - you're not just beautiful, you're dazzlingly gorgeous Linda! And what you've got on is just about every man's fantasy!' he added throatily.

‘I'm glad you like it.' I answered, then, as I got down on my knees and, while using one hand to begin undoing his belt, pressed the other against the still growing bulge in his trousers and added. ‘And whatever you've got hiding in here promises to look just as good to me.'

In no time at all I had got rid of the trousers, underneath which I was pleased to find he was wearing a pair of really fine, grey silk under-shorts - then paused while I took in what I was seeing. By then his cock must have been very nearly fully erect, its still hardening length held down inside one leg by the tightly stretched silk, and what little stimulation we had already given each other had quite obviously already been really effective; the large damp stain showing that pre-cum had already started oozing from him. But what really grabbed and held my full attention was the apparent size of it, even allowing for the fact that it was probably not yet fully engorged and I was only seeing it in outline it looked really, really impressive!

I was suddenly reminded of what one heard many women often saying - ‘That a good way to judge the size of an unknown man's equipment is to check the size of his hands and feet'. Martin's hands and long fingers had been one of the first things I had noticed about him, but at the time I hadn't made the implied physical connection. Glancing down for a split-second I saw that his feet were certainly on the large side, so perhaps the old wives' tale was true after all.

But right then verifying vague aphorisms was the very last thing on my mind - so I reached up and pressed one hand lightly against its length, and even through the cool silk I could feel its heat. It jerked, powerfully and as it did so Martin gasped, then gave a deep, almost disbelieving groan as my fingers curled more firmly around the much more quickly hardening shaft.

Although I was strongly tempted to simply pull down his shorts and take a proper look at it, like some child dragging out the thrill of discovering exactly what lay inside the beautifully wrapped gift by first letting her imagination run free, I curbed that impulse. Instead I simply trailed my fingers up and down it; my already tingling pussy spasming more strongly as I watched the still hidden flesh growing longer and harder and felt its already strong pulse increasing as my touch added yet more fuel to the fire that was clearly burning inside him.

The throbbing pulsation grew stronger and jerkier as his cock grew even bigger, increasing in both length and girth as my fingers continued their slow but insistent caressing, and it wasn't long before the only thing holding it steady was the silky constraint of the leg of his shorts.

I have to admit that I have never been able to fully explain, even to myself, my fascination with a man's cock - and at this point I should also say that I use the word ‘cock' when I'm thinking about an erect penis.

Of course all people - both men and women - down through the ages have found its transformation from penis to cock almost magical, and that was no doubt what made it the object of actual veneration in many cultures. But even in these far more educated and enlightened days I'm convinced that many more women than will openly admit to it still often find just the process itself both astonishing and physically exciting. Perhaps some of that is because, at least by comparison, so little appears to be happening when a woman is aroused - after all, unlike a woman there is no way a man can ever hide the fact that he is getting turned-on.

By then I myself was feeling the full effect of what I was doing to Martin, the warm, mushy feeling I'd had between my legs had become almost swamp-like, and I felt I was producing so much lubrication that it had not only soaked my panties but that by then was probably dripping down on to the carpet.

So I finally reached up and tugged the waistband of his shorts downwards, taking care not to trap his virtually fully erect cock as I did so. It sprang free, and even though I'd known it would be a big one, when I finally saw it I still couldn't restrain my sudden gasp of amazement. It wasn't just impressively big, it was beautiful - a strange word to use about a man, but as a descriptor of his cock an accurate one. Not just long and thick, but perfectly proportioned, no sometimes off-putting curves, either upwards or sideways. The rigid shaft was made to look even more imposing by the heavily gnarled network of veins, and the sleek, helmet-shaped head was plumply glossy, with, at its tip, one fresh pearl-like bead of pre-cum glistening invitingly.

I teased him - looking up with what I hoped was a wickedly mischievous grin before curling the fingers of one hand lightly around the shaft and letting just the tip of my tongue run across my lips - then, as I slid my other hand down into my soaking wet panties, and, doing it deliberately slowly, I licked off that shimmering drop of fluid.

He shuddered as my tongue rasped up over his cock-head, but otherwise held himself still, waiting to see just what I would do next. At that very moment I wasn't certain myself, I was in two minds; whether to enjoy watching him come by leaning back and just using my hand, or to miss out something of that pleasure by leaning forward and taking him in my mouth.

I admit there was a touch of both feminine vanity as well as practicality in my decision. Although I knew just how thrilling I always found watching a well-built man's climax to be, I also knew that simply masturbating him would undoubtedly result in my getting well splattered with semen. Now although I normally had nothing at all against that, until I was certain we were going to meet more than just this once I wanted to continue looking my best until our time together was over. And getting rid of gobbets of semen from my face - and particularly my hair - wasn't, as I knew from past experiences, something I could do in a matter of moments. So I leaned forward and slipped my lips down over his cock-head.

Now as any sensibly mature person knows, the first few times any couple make love are not the times they are most likely to have really good sex; neither knows the other's likes and dislikes, nor either their body's reaction time or what moves are most likely to give the greatest pleasures. So, as I had no idea whether Martin and I would meet again, and I had no intention of the evening ending without me being able to enjoy at least one climax of my own, even as my lips slid slowly forward, I had no hesitation in beginning to finger myself.

I had already become so aroused by everything that had happened - the time I had spent in this most attractive man's company, the steadily increasing sense of anticipation I had felt, discovering he possessed such a beautiful cock, and what I was experiencing right then with it both stretching my fingers and filling my mouth - that just that first lightly fluttering touch was enough to make my pussy start spasming even more powerfully.

But, doing my best to suppress what was happening to me, I began slowly working Martin over; tightening my lips in the deep groove behind his plum-like head, and, as my hand started sliding up and down the increasingly strongly throbbing shaft, bobbing my head back and forth with short, sharp movements.

Remembering what I had said about preferring to be the one in control he had, until that moment, carefully refrained from touching me, but as the effects of my stimulation shot through his entire body even he couldn't hold himself back any longer. I felt his hands reaching around my head, but unlike most other men, who I could expect to take a firm grip as they began to fuck my mouth, Martin merely let his fingers stroke and lightly ruffle my hair.

‘That is so wonderful, so absolutely wonderful! You are not just a beautiful woman Linda, you are the most utterly fantastic lover!' he whispered throatily.

As any woman would know, those few tender words of praise had a disproportionately strong effect on how I was feeling and even as I managed to continue stroking, bobbing and sucking on his increasingly powerfully responding cock, I felt the first signs of my own approaching climax. In the hope that I could perhaps synchronise our two orgasms, as my fingers started rubbing my clit just a little more vigorously I increased the speed and strength of what I was doing for Martin.

But even though he must have sensed what was happening to me; either because he was enjoying my caressing too much to let himself go, or that his normal staying power was just that much greater than mine, I was unsuccessful. Not that I really cared, although what was happening to me meant I may have missed quite a few beats in my rhythmic stimulation of him, I allowed myself to wallow in the bliss of what proved to be a long, almost rolling climax.

Even once the full effect had waned my pussy and clit still remained super-sensitive and under other circumstances I might well have continued taking care of myself for even longer. But just then both his tensing body and his low grunting gasps made me realise that Martin was finally approaching his own critical moments. So I pulled my pussy-juice soaked hand from between my legs and reached up for his balls. They were heavy and swollen and as my finger-tips touched them I felt them tightening, then even as I cupped and began gently fondling them I felt a sure signal of his impending release, I felt them being drawn upwards.

Pushing the hand that had been stroking it down to the very base of his cock, and sucking as hard as I could, I slid my mouth forward, taking him deep into the back of my throat. Then, as my hands began gripping him rhythmically, and each time sucking hard, I began pushing my mouth back and forth, in effect using it to pump him.

It took no more than half a dozen to get him to orgasm; after the first two or three I felt his already rigidly swollen cock getting even more throbbingly distended, felt my cheeks being pushed out as the head literally ballooned, then what felt like every single muscle in his body tightened, preparing for that one single moment when every bit of all their stored energy would be called for. I relaxed my throat, took him deeper, sucked him harder, and thrilled as I felt the first enormous surge of semen being forced up through his cock. It exploded in a massive gushing jet that was so powerful it very nearly made me gag as it shot straight down my throat - but I suppressed that natural reaction, continuing to suck and pump as hard as I could and felt the same excited thrill at each of the long succession of gouts I drained from him.

Instead of lifting me once he was finished he brought himself down to my level by dropping to his knees in front of me, holding me gently while cleaning my semen smeared lips with his kisses. ‘As I said before, you are an absolutely unbelievably fantastic lover Linda, I just hope I can measure up to your standards, give you at least a little of the pleasure you have given me.' he said between kisses.

Then, pulling me to my feet, he asked where my bedroom was - the way he asked it made it clear that his question was not just about the layout of my apartment, but also if that was where I too wished to go next. In reply I just took his hand and led him, then stood for a moment as he, with one swift, powerful jerk yanked the covers off the bed. ‘I'll tidy up later.' he said with a boyishly cheeky grin as he turned and took me in his arms again.

The next hour is a blurring kaleidoscope of an excess of absolutely intensely blissful pleasure - I think, for both of us.

His hands were not just large and soft, they were also knowingly slow; and he seemed to understand just how, where and how much I ached to be touched, stroked, caressed. Everything he did with them he did unhurriedly, and although I admit that there were times when my frustratedly squirming body screamed for him to progress more quickly, I also admit that in the long run, he knew best.

At first he rolled me over to lie on my stomach then literally kissed, licked and stroked me from neck to ankle. Although I was initially overly self-conscious that he might find my undoubtedly soaking wet, and probably smelly panties somewhat off-putting, they didn't seem to bother him, and certainly didn't impede his slow and thorough investigation of my body.

In fact my concerns about his reaction to the state of them were completely dispelled the first time he completed one of his many upward explorations. ‘Your scent is intoxicating. I mean your natural scent.' he added before pushing himself back down, easing the waistband lower and then taking several deep inhalations before resuming his slow caressing.

I'd never had a man touch me in quite that way and it wasn't long before I felt myself revelling in the utterly blissful thrills he was giving me. Other than my frequent gasps or a word or two of encouragement when he located a particularly responsive spot, or his low, whispered endearments when his licks and kisses brought his mouth near my ears, for a long time we enjoyed each other in relative silence.

At some stage he unfastened my bra, but at first he made no attempt to remove it, merely laying the ends of the straps aside so they didn't impede his attention to my back. At another he pushed my panties lower, hitching the waistband beneath the cheeks of my buttocks so he could lick and suck on them. I loved it, loved every single thing he did, and when he eventually rolled my unprotesting body over, then having finally slipped my bra and pants off me, began that same slow exploration of all the newly exposed parts of me, I loved it even more!

He treated my breasts as though they were the first he'd ever encountered; using those marvellous hands with both amazing patience and a knowing tenderness. His slow fondling caresses generated rippling waves of pleasure that spread throughout my entire body and even though he somehow managed to give the impression that those skilful actions were merely those of an acolyte's insightful response, he clearly understood both my body's steadily growing needs, and sensed exactly where I was on the progression towards an inevitable orgasm. So, after the long, slow arousal he had been building within me, it wasn't really surprising that when he eventually began actually suckling on them that was more than enough to give me a truly spectacular climax.

But as I was soon to discover it was to be but the first of several. No sooner had the tremblingly shuddering responses come to an end than he said softly. ‘I would love to kiss and lick your pussy now - is that all right?'

Of course at that stage neither of us had brought up anything to do with either exactly what our individual limitations were, or the reasons for them, and right at that moment any sort of conversation was the very last thing I wanted, so I replied. ‘That would be wonderful Martin - just don't push your fingers inside me please.'

He nodded, smiled, kissed me, and said - ‘I'll be careful.' - then began slowly working his way down over my body.

Even though I had previously rated his hands and fingers as being fantastically skilful I have to say that by comparison with the practised expertise of his mouth and tongue they could only be described as being fumblingly incompetent. The things he did to me, to my clitoris and pussy, were utterly mind-blowing - absolutely unlike anything I'd ever previously experienced!

From the first moment he eased my legs apart and began kissing and licking my inner thighs I knew he'd be good - showing that same understanding and unselfish patience he had demonstrated when caressing my breasts - and by the time he finally got around to begin teasing my pussy, I knew that whatever he was going to do for me would be spectacular.

Again he generally took his time, but also continued to correctly interpret whatever subtle clues my reactions gave him, his flickering tongue increasing its speed and pressure exactly when I desperately needed it - triggering what proved to be merely the first in a series of mind and body-wracking orgasms. I lost track of time, simply lay there; moaning, gasping, heaving and writhing as I revelled in the luxury of a seemingly endless round of electrifyingly pleasurable gratification

So, when I finally pushed him away from me I was feeling both drained and exhausted, yet when he got up onto his knees and sat back on his heels there was no way I could miss seeing the effect of what satisfying me had done to him. There, jutting vertically from between his thighs, was his cock, proudly erect and quite obviously totally reinvigorated. In spite of the high I was still slowly coming down from I found just the sight of it was enough to re-stir something within me - its size, finely shaped proportions and colour, plus the strength and power that were implied by its sturdy quivering - were undeniably intensely exciting.

I got up and kneeled in front of him. ‘I'm sure you could tell just how phenomenal that was for me Martin. You are an extraordinarily wonderful lover! But before we say anything else, I think I should do something about this.' I said as I reached forward and slipped one hand up under his balls and curled the other around his strongly pulsing shaft.