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By *d197866 OP Man
over a year ago
Perth |
Part 2
OK dear reader (see what I did there, personalising the narrative!) that bombshell deserves some explanation. Explanation by way of a little back story, a montage if you will, when they make a film of it, this part will start with an out of focus screen and some descending harp music…….
The Meet –
It was Friday night, ten years ago, twenty eleven to be sort of exact. I was thirty-two years old, had been engaged twice but never married and I was sitting in my one-bedroom flat in my non-descript small hometown staring at the screen of my PC, which happened to be logged into fab.
Now that makes it sound like I was sat in a garret on a rain-soaked thundery night musing over the failure of life. Far from it, I had left this small town once, a decade ago, to head to Uni which was as far away from this parochial little town as I could manage, once done with Uni I basically went around the world a few times and had a blast. So, no pity for me please on this Friday night.
I had been a member of FAB since my days at Uni, it had been a way to break out of my upbringing, and I am a guy so yes, it was a convenient way to get laid. No point sugar coating it we are all members of a swingers contact website. Over the years I have met many people from all walks of life and of all persuasions, some really did it for me, others not so much but I learned never to judge and always try, and usually that all worked out. Do not get me wrong, I’m not shallow, there had to be a spark but hey what’s wrong with increasing your target audience by being a member of a club where everyone knows the score??
Anyway, back to the story (I do tangent at times, but I always come back).
Browsing through the profiles, as you do, half just admiring the pictures and lazily reading the profile bio’s a new profile pops up. A nearby new female profile…… very little text and a blurry picture of a smiling face with a mane of blonde hair.
Now if we are being honest guys, we know single girls get inundated with messages. The predatory response kicked in and I decided to try and get in early. At worst it was some guy pretending (we know you exist and sometimes we bait you just for fun!) and at best it was a woman looking for the same thing……. Good sex.
Being a gentleman, I fired off a very polite message. Not I hasten to add a copy paste or generic message but a little about me, and a general welcome to the world of FAB. I sat back and waited for a response.
“Hi”
Came back 2 minutes later.
Well, it was a start. I fired back my usual what brings you here etc…. and waited.
“look, I have never done this before, I’m a single mum and I need something now. I have only ever been with two guys, but your profile looks like your ok, and people know you and like you. I just need something”.
I read the response, don’t you love it when you get a reply, and you get that slight quickening of the heart rate?
It was a good reply, it was not straight to the dirty talk or “pic” swapping I would expect from the ubiquitous “honest I’m a girl” guy pretending.
“You sound like you want to meet now? I have my own place in the centre of town if you want to come over. no pressure no expectations and no means no.”
See I am a gentleman!
“I’ve just been to the pub with some friends, I’m a little d*unk but not d*unk so I’m feeling brave. What is the address? I can be there soon”.
I sent the address. Not something I normally do after such a short exchange. I almost instantly regretted it. Did I really want some unknown half pissed woman? I consoled myself with the knowledge that she probably would not show and as time passed, I realised that was going to be the case.
“BUZZ !”
My door intercom roused me from the half doze I was in sitting in front of the television. Its one of those noises, like the alarm clock, you are conditioned to spring up and respond. Before I was conscious of doing it the receiver was in my hand –
“Hello”
“Hi it’s Angela”.
“Sorry, who?”
“Angela” quieter “from the site”
“oh yea, great, come on up!”
Now at this point I am thinking “bugger”. Don’t get me wrong, the possibilities of new meets are endless, but I had already written this one off, I wasn’t prepared. I was clean, freshly showered, shaved and all that stuff…. But I was in some unflattering tartan print pyjamas and dressing gown.
I quickly ditched the dressing gown, reasoning that I was not 80 years old and did not own a big slipper! I went to the front door of my flat, hearing footsteps climbing the concrete steps of the stairwell, then the door to my landing opened, I opened my front door in anticipation.
In the dim light of the landing, I saw a short figure emerge from the stairwell, sparking eyes, uncertain smile and the long blonde mane again. This time the image was not blurred. It was a woman, a woman encased in a very sexy pair of tight jeans and some sort of designer branded top.
I smiled from the Doorway. She smiled back as she walked towards me, a more certain smile this time and those eyes, they really did sparkle.
“Nice lingerie!”
She said as she stopped in front of me, indicating my sartorial elegance. I smiled.
“Thanks, I would love to comment on yours but….”
“Don’t get too cocky I’m not that d*unk”.
She was good this one, an actual real person with no pretence and enough courage to stand up for herself. This was going to be fun even if we kept our clothes on.
I stepped back into the hall of the flat my arms open in invitation and as she strode past me my nose was filled with channel 19 and the smell of a night in a bar. Not an unpleasant mix. I realised I had been standing there savouring the smell and she had already disappeared. I walked back to the small living room to find her perched on the sofa. Her legs crossed in that classic pose, and looking at her, yes, she was an absolute classic. Angela was classically beautiful, and sexual all at the same time. Not tall, maybe five foot four her legs looked toned under those tight designer jeans, her breasts under a similar designer shirt looked large but in beautiful proportion to her tight, rounded firm ass. And this was an ASS, not a bottom or a bum, this was an ASS!
“Drink?” I asked.
“Already had way too much, can I be silly and ask for tea?”
“Not silly at all, how do you take it?”
“Builders, milk no sugar”.
I busied myself in the kitchen making tea, I already had a drink sitting on the side.
“So, what brought you to FAB?”
I asked making small talk.
“Men are arseholes!”
I was on firmer ground here; I saw it mapped out in front of me. The boyfriend had pissed off and she out for revenge. I had been that soldier before, it was not always an unpleasant experience, letting a horny woman work out her rage with me between the sheets. I was thinking I was too old to get involved in any domestics though.
“Boyfriend troubles”
I proffered as she stopped speaking.
“No, not a boy, he was a man”.
“Was?”
“Oh, he’s not dead or anything. We broke up almost 6 months ago. We were only together for a few weeks. He was too controlling, and……….”
I let that hang there for a moment waiting for her to continue, when she didn’t, I looked around at her. She looked straight at me, like she was trying to make up her mind.
“And?”
I prompted.
“He never made me cum”.
She said quietly.
“Oh dear, now that’s a drawback”.
I am ashamed to say I said that quite flippantly. I was still fairly young and yes, a little cocky. However, over the years I had met some wonderful women and had, I think, been very well trained. I knew how to do what I thought she was asking for, not as one of those guys who swears blind his cock will any woman just orgasm like she never has before, I was never one of those guys. I am fully aware I have a cock, a tongue, fingers and mind. All these things when used correctly, and if you are paying attention, are more than capable of providing pleasure to both parties.
I had not heard her move, but I turned around, fresh cup of hot builder’s tea in hand and there she was. Standing close, her face to…. well to my chest, I was taller…. the scent of the number 19 in my nose again, I adore that scent. It makes my cock hard. I was hard already but throbbed when I saw her eyes again, she closed the short distance between us, her right arm encircling my neck and pulling my face down to hers, as her other had stroked the, now tented, front of my fetching pyjamas. We kissed…. It was a kiss like I have never had before. I do not mean there were fireworks or anything soppy and loving. This was not a loving kiss. This was raw, needful, sexual. It was as if her mouth and tongue were trying to send me a manual on exactly what she wanted me to do to her. Communicating what she wanted with no words just the force of her kiss.
“Put the fucking tea down”.
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J.
