My Perfect Tens Pt. 07

My Perfect Tens

Part 7 of 15

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Jim and Daniel know what they must do. Since virgins possess more untapped erotic energy, Jim has to find and seduce them. In part 7 of the 15-part series "My Perfect Tens," we see how Jim finds chaste paramours and lures them to his bed.

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I enjoyed Celeste's company for a long time. It was mainly because she was such an interesting, charming person, but I also liked the special bond we had. Knowing I was the first man who figured out what it took to thrill her made me feel good about us. Every time we had sex, it produced an explosion of emotional energy that made us both stronger, better people.

By the time our affair was over, Celeste evolved into a woman with more self-awareness and confidence. She finally understood her sexual needs and knew how to satisfy them. I imagined that some very lucky men would come to know Celeste in the future.

Daniel and I got to work adding virgins to my harem. He scanned the minds of women in the region and found several who met our criteria. They had to have high sex drives, they had to be anxious to lose their virginity, and they had to be perfect tens.

I was surprised to hear him say he found thousands of women like that.

"Jim, a lot of women are virgins when they start college," Daniel told me. "A lot of them are afraid to have sex for the first time. There are countless reasons that some girls delay having sex. You'll be amazed at how wonderful some of these women are."

One problem was that it wasn't practical to scan online dating sites for people seeking no-strings sex. Virgins don't use those sites. We'd have to try a bit harder.

I liked the way we found Iris, the first virgin I seduced. Daniel examined the lives of several promising candidates, and he discovered that Iris was an art major who excelled in painting and photography. Since I happened to paint and take fine art photographs, it gave us something in common.

Daniel discovered that Iris was exhibiting her newest work in a gallery located near the campus of the college where she studied. He showed me images from her social media account and gave me some details about her personal history.

The reason Iris was a virgin made me sad. She loved her high school boyfriend, and she wanted to have sex with him. Despite her repeated efforts to lure him to bed, he never took the bait. She didn't understand the reason. It made her feel rejected and unattractive.

That was particularly sad because Daniel did some checking and figured out that her boyfriend was a closeted gay man who dated her mainly because he wanted to make people think he was straight. He joined the military after graduation, leaving Iris feeling alone. She was craving male attention.

I was just the man to give it to her.

I showed up at Iris's opening and found a way to sidle up to her as she stood in front of one of her paintings. We were both looking at it when I began talking to her.

"I just learned that the artist who did this is a sophomore," I said to her. "Can you believe that? I've been working for a long time, trying to paint well, and this makes my work look like something done by a chimpanzee holding a paintbrush with his toes. The use of color is dazzling. Just dazzling."

I said this because I happened to know that Iris was particularly proud of her ability to select a good combination of colors. One of her teachers described her color palettes as "beautifully harmonic."

"You paint?" she asked.

"I try. My friends say nice things about my work, but I'll never be as good as the person who created these paintings. I am primarily a photographer. I feel more comfortable with a camera than with a box of acrylics. But I see these paintings, and it encourages me to work harder."

"I'm a photographer, too," Iris said.

I knew that, of course. It's the reason I raised the subject. "Is that right? What kind of photography do you do?"

"I like still life photography. Portraiture of interesting people. I've taken a lot of photos of interesting objects juxtaposed together. I have fun with photography, but I'm primarily a painter."

"Very nice," I said. "What kind of things do you paint?"

That prompted a warm smile. "I painted this," she said, pointing to the work I'd just praised.

And that was the way it began. Because I was able to sense what Iris liked to talk about, I steered our conversation in directions that made her happy and comfortable. I sensed that she felt I was handsome, and she liked that I was so fit and athletic. Mainly, however, I just listened to what she had to say.

I have learned that what most women want is a man who'll just shut his mouth long enough to listen - really listen - to what they have to say. Iris happened to have a lot of interesting things worth saying, and I genuinely loved hearing her speak. We talked, and talked, and talked, and we were still talking when they announced it was time for the gallery to close.

"Iris, I am enjoying our conversation so much that I don't want it to stop," I said. "Could I take you out for a cocktail? I know that we just met, but I'd appreciate a chance to get to know you better."

I sensed a flush of excitement as Iris said yes. After feeling rejected by her high school boyfriend, she was overdue for positive attention from a desirable man. She agreed to walk across the street and have a drink at a cool little martini bar popular with members of the art scene. It made her feel grown up. Iris was only 19 - which is too young to legally drink - but she was dressed up in a way that made her look older. Besides, she was with me, and it was obvious that I was over 21.

She ordered a vodka martini and enjoyed the feeling of having an adult conversation with a man who was interested in her.

It was very pleasurable getting to know Iris. She had such perceptive, insightful things to say. I could tell that she was fiercely intelligent, but that she believed people thought she couldn't be very smart because she was so beautiful. That inspired me to make a comment that very attractive women aren't always taken seriously because people assume they can't be very smart.

"It's obvious that you're very intelligent, Iris," I said. "Do you ever have trouble being taken seriously? Attractive women are often underestimated."

"Yes! Yes yes yes!" she said, delighted that I seemed to understand her so well. She talked about times when people - especially men - treated her like some stupid bimbo. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that," I said. "I'm sure it's burdensome."

I sensed that I'd accomplished my goal. Iris liked me. She understood that I liked and respected her. Ordinarily, I would try to convince her to come home with me, but Iris was a virgin, and we'd just met. I didn't want to scare her off, so I tried something different.

"Iris, I'm sure you can tell that I'm very taken by you," I said. "When I came down here tonight, all I expected was to see some nice art in the gallery. I didn't expect to meet such a charming artist. It's getting so late that I feel guilty about monopolizing your entire evening.

"But I want to see you again. I hope you'll let me do that," I said.

"I'd like to see you again, too," Iris said, blushing. She was so adorable. I felt my arousal grow.

"Tomorrow I'm going to see an art movie at the cinema downtown. I'll bet you've heard of the classic Japanese film Rashomon. I'm anxious to see it. Would you go with me?"

I was cheating. I'd already sensed that Iris was planning to see that film tomorrow. It was a perfect opportunity to see her again.

"I'd love to go, Jim," she said. "I've heard of Roshomon. Thank you for asking me."

I walked Iris to her car and sensed that she wanted me to kiss her. But I also sensed that she was just as nervous as you'd expect of a virgin who'd spent the evening with a man she'd just met. Instead of kissing her on the lips, I kissed her hand.

That simple act triggered a surge of erotic energy that erupted from between her legs. It was so charming I had to resist the urge to take her into my arms and give her a deep, soulful, big-girl kiss. I had to remind myself that Iris was a virgin, and I needed to treat her like one.

I picked her up at her dormitory the next evening and drove to the theater. At some point before the movie I let her know that I speak Japanese. She was impressed. Like all the women I meet, Iris found me to be physically attractive. But she had a special fondness for smart, artistic guys. I made sure to let her know I was the kind of man she liked most.

We walked back to my car, and Iris asked how I learned Japanese. "I'm good with languages," I said. "I'm interested in Japanese culture. I hope to go there someday, and I'd like to be able to speak to the locals."

I sensed that Iris liked hearing that I had such refined taste. I realized that there was something I could say that would reveal something she'd find to be attractive.

"I learned something upsetting when I studied Japanese," I said. "The language requires speakers to inflect their speech in different ways for people of different status. Males speak down to females, but up to their bosses. Youths speak up to adults and down to children. It's almost as though inequality is baked into the language.

"I'm sure it's a reason that so many experts consider Japanese culture to be racist to the point of xenophobia. If you look at the history of World War 2, it's clear that the Japanese thought it was a good idea to bomb Pearl Harbor because they considered Americans to be a bunch of racially inferior mongrels who couldn't possibly pose a threat to purebred Japanese.

"I read a book by one historian who maintains that Japanese culture benefitted from being defeated so soundly. Getting their asses kicked undermined the notion that they were the master race. Still, non-Japanese people who live there today give horrifying reports of bigotry. Job discrimination. Housing discrimination. Sex discrimination. And the Japanese government makes it almost impossible for non-Japanese people to immigrate, even though there's a desperate need for workers, and immigrants could help Japan.

"It's sad. And I'm reminded of this every time I hear Japanese, because the language is structured around the idea that people are not equal."

I'm sure that doesn't sound remotely romantic. But it was the kind of thing Iris wanted to hear. She liked the idea that I had unique insights into serious topics. Iris was the kind of woman who was sensitive to problems like discrimination, and she liked hearing that I shared her concerns. Even though I'd just said something very academic, I sensed a shift in her attitude toward me.

Iris wanted to spend the night with me. She'd made up her mind. All I had to do was ask.

"I don't want this evening to end," I said. "Iris, would you like to share a bottle of wine? I just bought a case of chardonnay that is very good. I'm sure you'd like it."

"That sounds nice," she said. I sensed that Iris was thinking she wanted me to take her virginity. I'd planted the idea, and it had sprouted vigorously. This was only our second date, but she knew having sex was something she wanted to happen. Immediately.

I drove to my house and sensed that Iris hadn't expected it to be so big and luxurious. She'd already noticed that I wore nice clothes and drove a nice car, but this was the first time she realized that I had a lot more money than she'd suspected.

It elevated her opinion of me. Women are attracted to successful men. It's been like that since the prehistoric era, when women gravitated to men who could provide for them and their children. I held her hand as I walked her to the front door and let her in.

"Wow," she said. "This is very nice." She looked at a large acrylic painting in the entryway. "Who did this?" she asked.

"That's one of mine," I said. "I think that's the best painting I've done. So far."

"It's beautiful, Jim," she said.

"I'm so glad you think so," I said. "I value your opinion."

I led her to the living room and sat her down on my sofa, then opened a bottle of wine. If things went as well as I hoped, we would be headed for the bedroom before we drank it all. I gave her a glass, sat close to her, and we both took a sip.

"This is very good," she said.

"I love this stuff. That's why I bought a whole case," I said.

We sat wordlessly as we had more wine. Iris wanted me to kiss her. It was obvious. I tried to sense what she wanted to happen next. This is what I said:

"Iris, I think I've done a pretty good job acting respectfully with you, but I have to tell you that it's all an act. I want to kiss you so much that I can barely stand it anymore. If you don't want that, you need to tell me right now, because I can't resist you much longer."

Perfect. Iris smiled. "There's no reason to resist," she said, leaning closer.

Our first kiss was delicate as well as enticing. Our second kiss was just slightly more passionate. Our third kiss was decidedly soulful. During our fourth kiss, I let my tongue explore the space between her lips. Iris began to produce a strong, surging field of erotic energy so powerful that only a virgin could do it.

I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close. Iris never enjoyed kissing more than at that moment; frankly, neither had I. This was special. I felt her heart pound in her chest as things got more intense. She reacted joyfully when she felt my hands wander over her body, starting with her back and sides, then becoming more intimate by caressing her bare legs and the sides of her breasts.

Iris was so excited she was panting. When I undid the first button of her blouse, I sensed an eruption of pure passion that was stronger than most women produce while having sex. I'd known that being with a virgin would unleash more erotic energy than I'd seen before. But it was thrilling to watch it happen.

It made my hunger for Iris stronger. More ravenous. I wanted to rip off her clothes, throw her down on the sofa, and deflower her savagely. That's not what I did, of course. This was her night. I needed to do everything the way she wanted. Slowly. Delicately. Letting her savor every moment.

Iris began to moan when she felt my hand reach up her skirt and caress her inner thighs. Her legs opened for me, welcoming my exploration of her most private parts. My hand got closer and closer to her pussy. She gasped when she felt my fingertips touching the silky fabric of her panties.

I unbuttoned her blouse to her waist, kissing her neck and caressing the soft skin above her breasts. I touched her boobs through the sheer material of her pretty bra, feeling her nipples get hard in response to my touch.

I reached inside her bra, feeling the bare flesh within. By this time Iris was overwhelmed with desire. She didn't need any more preparation. Iris wanted me to take her to bed. Right then.

It was time.

I stood up, took her hand, and led her to the bedroom. Neither one of us said a word. I sensed a mix of excitement, arousal, nervousness, and joy. Iris had wanted her high school boyfriend to take her virginity. She'd been disappointed and humiliated when he rejected her repeated offers. The fact that I was going to give her something she'd wanted for so long produced a sense of anticipation so strong she couldn't think of anything else.

I walked her to the side of my bed, drew her into a kiss, then began removing her clothes. I took my time, making sure Iris got to savor the experience as I took off one garment, then another, and then another. She was wearing a very fancy bra and panty set. I sensed her thoughts and discovered that she selected those items because she'd hoped I'd get to see them. Knowing that she'd dressed for me, I made sure I spent a lot of time admiring how she looked in such beautiful undergarments.

It made her blush. Once again, I found myself thinking Iris is adorable. I felt very lucky that she was letting me have her virginity.

I began removing my clothes as I gazed at her. One of the things that made Iris a perfect ten was her face, which looked like it belonged in a Renaissance painting by a master like Botticelli, or a sculpture by Donatello. Her body was slender, but strong, looking the way I imagined a wood nymph might appear. Her breasts were neither too big nor too small; I loved holding them in my hands.

I sensed that Iris loved seeing how fit and muscular I was. She knew I looked athletic in my clothes, but she got a special pleasure when I removed my shirt and she saw that I was ripped, with the kind of muscular definition you might see in a sculpture by Michaelangelo.

She saw the bulge in the front of my boxers, and it scared her a bit. She'd seen pornography showing erect cocks, but she'd never seen one with her own eyes. She could tell that I was a lot larger than most men, and it made her worry that I might not fit in her tight virginal pussy.

I kissed and hugged her again, pressing my hard cock into her belly. That made the erotic energy around us begin to pulsate and change frequencies. Moments like this make me marvel at the wonder of female desire. So powerful. So compelling. I wanted Iris on the bed, flat on her back, legs spread wide, with me on top of her body and my cock inside her. It took discipline to keep moving slowly so Iris had enough time to enjoy every step of her seduction.

I reached behind her back, unhooked her bra, then exposed her breasts to my eyes, hands, and lips. She moaned softly when I sucked one nipple into my mouth. She moaned again when I repeated it with the other nipple. Iris was so excited that the erectile tissue in her breasts became engorged with blood.

It made her boobs bigger. Firmer. I sensed that Iris thought her breasts were suddenly very sensitive. Good. I felt glad she was getting as much pleasure as me when I caressed her breasts.

"Lie down," I whispered, helping her lean back in the middle of the bed. I sensed that her pussy was very, very wet. It made my mouth water. Although I felt an overwhelming urge to go down on her warm, fragrant pussy, I resisted the temptation. Iris was anxious to lose her virginity. That had to happen first.

I kissed Iris passionately and let one hand wander over her breasts and belly. My hand slowly went south until I was running my fingers around the waistband of her panties. I sensed that she wanted me to rip her panties off and touch her where she needed to be touched. I decided to move a bit slower than that, sliding my hand under the waistband and touching her pussy gently.

She wanted more - a lot more - so she began moving her hips up and down, trying to get me to touch her pussy more forcefully. I gave her what she wanted, but only after letting her anticipate each move I made. I squeezed her outer lips together. Ran one finger up and down her wet inner folds. Touched everything but her clit. Pushed one finger inside her, then a second, and then a third. Finally squeezed her clit between my finger and thumb, rubbing her sensitive little button in a way that almost made her climax.

Almost.

The erotic energy surrounding us grew stronger. It was time. I needed to get her out of her panties, remove my boxers, and do what she wanted done. Iris gasped excitedly when I pulled her panties down her legs. She watched me remove my underwear and felt a mix of excitement and fear when she saw my cock.

She wanted to touch it, but was too afraid, so I took her hand and wrapped it around me. Iris was shocked to discover that my boner felt hard in the middle but was covered with skin soft as velvet. I squeezed her hand and made her stroke me up and down, being sure she got a good introduction to the way a man's hard penis feels.