Libido Amongst The Electrons

Preface

Surrounded by other people and in the midst of light hearted conversations, I sense there is an underbelly of thoughts ruminating in their minds. They would never openly ask me. Never! However, they are curious as to if this widow ever has a libidinous thought. Ever?

The idea of sexuality bubbling to the surface in a woman my age would be preposterous, wouldn't it? How wrong they are! I am a jaguar woman.

Chapter 1.

Our online chatting began as a tightly closed bud, exposing paltry little in terms of personal information. However, every exchange seemed to build on the next. Over time, our electronic conversations became more frequent and much more sensuous. It is as if our chats were flower petals opening until, like the pistil and stamen growing tall and erect out of some exotic flower bloom, our lustful desires were totally exposed to each other.

It was then that I invited him to travel here.

Chapter 2.

I have to start somewhere, so it might as well be with the hired town car's tires thumping against the pockmarked blacktop road leading towards my home this late, sultry afternoon. Wesley will arrive at any moment.

It has been about a three-hour flight to reach me.

That is when I see the car steer through the iron gates and slowly pull into my circular driveway. My soaring front windows accord me a full view. It takes a minute for the driver to step out and open the passenger door. The tall gentleman seemingly unfolds himself as he steps from the car, then adjusts his clothing before walking towards my front door. He is certainly taking in my property's outside view.

Gawd! This sixty-something man is incredibly handsome with a shock of white hair at his temples. Those selfies just didn't do him justice.

No need for the doorbell, as I swing the massive wood carved door open. We now stand before each other, surprisingly bathed in awkward silence. I am the first to clear my throat. While certainly not at all original, "Welcome!" is the only word I can give voice to; then, I regain my composure and spice up my greeting with a follow-up, warmly called out "Bienvenido!"

Wes has yet to move a muscle, except to smile.

At that very instant, the internet packets in which the two of us have been romancing for a good six months of electronic infatuation transform into reality, with the first impassioned kiss exploding between us. With his lips enveloping mine, we both feel the sensuality of our tongues tasting each other with long, slow, licking strokes. His blatantly obvious boner shortly follows -- tented inside his trousers.

So begins his visit to my home.

Chapter 3.

Wes quickly settles into the guest suite, returning to the kitchen. Mango margaritas ringed with chili powder and a slow dance music playlist are the menu at hand on my secluded patio. Maybe it's the jaguar woman in me, but slow jam is certainly a mating call. It's when the man extends his hands and I touch his palms with my painted nail fingertips. Anticipatory shivers speeding up and down my spine are making me light headed, as he directs my breasts tightly into his chest. There Wes and I stand in a full-frontal embrace as our bodies meld into the rhythms of a sentimental ballad.

The sensuality of this moment is bathed in my pheromone-laden perfume, heavily scented with floral-honey. Wes' nostrils trailing along my neck suddenly catch its allure and the unleashed passion of his love bites begin! So very intoxicating are these first choreographed steps ultimately leading to the act! Don't kid yourself, we will end up in a primeval fucking position before tonight's dancing ends.

"Damn it! Six months of electronic cock teasing is enough!" he breathes. "I want it now! NOW!" Wes yanks my off-the-shoulder top to my waist line, pressing me firmly against the patio wall. His lips sucking at my breasts are pretty rough, but certainly a turn on, as I drop to my knees and unzip his manly length.

With such a close-up view, I consider every vein in his erection, before deciding where my tongue will first stroke him. I begin at his base, showering Wes' prick with upwards moist kisses. It's his cock head thrusting in and out between my tightly clamped lips that nearly orbits him to the edge. Wes' hands unexpectedly cup my head and guide my mouth into the rhythms of his ejaculation. A climax of cum sprays over my face. I swallow, only to taste his salty semen dribbling down the back of my throat.

In the moments that follow, Wes pulls me up to kiss me and to taste the flavors of our sex together. Intuitively I sense our first slow dance has ended. It's now time for a change of clothes and a late evening supper.

Chapter 4.

Against the background of intimate conversation, and, somewhere between the salad, entrée and dessert courses, the mating dance interjects itself.

This evening, I am rinsing dinner dishes when Wes presses against my backside at the kitchen island. My designer kitchen with its Brazilian Desert Dream granite was the penultimate dream, and now Wes' intimacies at my kitchen sink seem to complete that fantasy.

His hands slowly trace my bare thighs, scooching up my halter dress to find my panty's elastic. Kissing the back of my neck, Wes' index finger deliberately shifts downwards from my belly button to my pubic patch, delving inside my skin folds to gather warm cunt juices. Such a tease, as his finger lightly flicks my clit to full attention. At that moment, the image of a pear sears through my euphoric consciousness. It is as if his finger has sliced my ripened fruit in half, exposing its subtle colors and curves to reach the very embedded seed of my womanhood.

"I desperately want to first taste your female nectar." With that whispered request, he inhales the scent of my arousal, licks his finger dry, then slides his hand down between my legs for more.

"For god sake, pull my panties down and off!" is my plea. "I am so ready to be hard banged!" With that utterance, Wes boldly turns me around, unzips, pushes my dress up around my breast nipples, and grabs his cock. What a masturbation instrument his glans is as I stretch back on the counter. Our mutual turn on is to glimpse down both of our arched, stretched torsos and view his shaft busily burying itself in my hairy mound.

Wes' circular and stroking rhythms are driving me to the fringes of ecstasy! "Don't cum, please don't cum yet" is all I can murmur. I want to feel your penetration. He obliges me by guiding his dick deep in. That bad boy's undulations take me there! Oh god! I cream with female juices dribbling down my legs.

Gasping "Do you want me to cum inside or outside?" he's already over the edge. Accompanied by gut wrenching verbalizations, his semen explodes deep within my vaginal passage. It's our first creampie and we are relishing the deliciousness of nuzzling and tasting each other's privates in the afterglow.

Forget the last course! Forget dessert! Oh hell, this IS dessert!

Are we ready for yet another slow dance tonight? How about all night long?

Jaguar woman certainly hopes so. And the second music playlist is called up.

Afterword

This weekend has simply whizzed by. As scheduled, the car service arrived for Wes' return flight. I anticipate that there may be future dates and other playlists to immerse ourselves in. Afterall, that's what body grinding music is all about. In fact, slow dancing is what makes this world of men and women spin around. At least that is the case for this jaguar lady!