Another aside here: Madison moaned so loudly that I was afraid a guest in an adjacent room would call security. I whispered in her ear to quiet down, and was surprised at the beautiful agony she expended keeping her moans suppressed. Her passion was so obvious and earnest. Pure ecstasy in action. Nothing faked or put on.
The journal then chronicled, “He kept getting so close to touching me and I kept moving his hand. Finally he pulled me on top of him. My legs were spread apart on either side of him. He put his hands on my ass and pulled my ass wide apart. I was squirming I’m sure. He got really close and then finally plunged a finger into my flower. I felt like screaming. So much pleasure! And I can’t even begin to say how much I loved him touching my ass. Some men don’t enjoy that, and I am so glad that he does. He ran his finger around my ass almost like he was rimming me but with his finger instead of his tongue. Then he laid me down with my back on the bed and started playing more with my flower. He groaned and said how good I felt. I felt his finger wandering around my lips. I wish he could have looked at my flower in the lamp light. It is so sexy. I wonder if he liked my lips, although I am not sure if he got much of a good look at them. My plump, juicy flower lips are my favorite erotic feature on myself. I wish I had not been on my period. I wanted him to suck on my lips so badly. Finally he sat up and touched me to perfection. He put a finger (or maybe two? I’m not sure.) in my flower and he put a finger in my ass, deep in my ass. He pushed me to the edge of ecstasy. My favorite thing of all is being fingered in the ass and flower at the same time. I love it. I didn’t want it to end, although he was being a little too rough since I hadn’t been touched for several months. One of the most pleasurable moments was when I slowly pulled his finger out of my ass. That felt incredible. Feeling it slowly slide out of my ass. I wish I had been on my hands and knees for him to finger my ass. But it felt amazing as it was. I think I came, although the orgasm wasn’t very intense. I wish I had not started my period, so I could have relaxed and enjoyed it completely.
“I just loved the way he was sexually. A little dominant. The perfect amount. Admiring and romantic and not crass at all. Sexy and so sexual. Oh and I wished I could have brought him to orgasm orally. I deep throated him a little and loved it. I wonder if he liked it much. He wasn’t very vocal, so I couldn’t tell which things he especially liked. I wanted to lick his balls, but I didn’t. Perhaps I should have.
“We held and cuddled afterwards. I loved it. And I loved that he kissed so many parts of my body: my stomach, arms, neck. I wanted him to kiss, lick, and blow on my right ear more. The whole night was delicious. The way he looked at me made me feel so feminine. If I had known this was going to happen I would have worn pretty underwear and shaved my legs and trimmed my hair. I hope he liked my flower. I felt drunk from pleasure.
“But I want so much more. I want to deep throat him more. I want him to taste me. I want the build up to take even longer. I want him to hold me more. If I see him again, it is not going to be any easier for him. I want to resist just as much and make him try for me. He has to overcome me to get to my breasts and flower. I just love the interplay of the masculine and the feminine, and he is so good at evoking the feeling of contrast between man and woman. That is what romance is. I want his strong hands to lie me down on the bed and slowly spread my legs apart and then tease me. Run his fingertips around the outline of my underwear. Breathe warm breath on my flower through my underwear. Pull my underwear to the side and gaze upon my flower. Trace around my flower with his fingertip but take so long to touch it to drive me wild from desire. I want prolonged teasing.
“The first time he saw my breasts, I felt so feminine. I want to know what he was thinking at each part. I want to know what he thought when his cock was in my throat. He told me what he thought of my breasts: that Grecians must have used a model like me in sculpting their statues. He is so romantic and so masculine. I love it. I want to know if he really saw my ass. It is so sexy and full and round. I want to know how much he wanted to kiss me at dinner. I want to know what he thought when he first laid eyes on me. I want to know what he thought when he caught a glimpse of my cleavage. I want to know what he thought of my soft skin. I want to know all his thoughts about everything in the evening. I want to know every dimension of his desire for me. I want him to see the fullness of my ass and hips, to admire me more in all my alluring femininity.
“There is so much more. I feel like I am just scratching the surface. I can’t help but wonder if he has many experiences like this in his business travels. Maybe I am but one of many lovers he encounters often in his travels. Ah well. One can never know. He is handsome, classy, and romantic, so I would not be surprised if many women fell for him and want him.
“Oh well. I want him, and had him, tonight.”
And Madison did have me that night … and in my memory, many more nights after that.
While it might seem strange, we never had intercourse. She was saving herself for her husband, whomever that lucky man would turn out to be. And honestly, I didn’t miss it for a moment. It was the most earnest and erotic encounter I’ve ever had. It just proves that it’s not what you do, but whom you do it with, that matters most.
Madison and I would see each other two more times before she graduated and began traveling abroad. The following times were more intense and physical, involving lots of oral sex, deep throating, 69ing, and anal experimentation. After one particularly exhausting round of climaxes, she snuggled against me and fell asleep with her head on my chest. While I wasn’t catching her from a slip on the ice, I was providing a soft and safe landing for this curious and sexy young woman.
During the last two encounters, she liked me being the polite aggressor, and there would be no question as to whether she orgasmed. I always knew when I’d succeeded because she’d literally experience quakes through her toned quads that would quiver and spasm for minutes afterwards. I’d utilize the one-in-ass-two-in-the-pussy technique multiple times, and often while sucking her sizable labia. And that ass; oh my gosh. A perfect puckered pink penny-sized asshole that begged to be rimmed, licked and penetrated. Every part of Madison was just so damn fetching.
A part of me fell in love with this young woman, but my dedication to my family prevented me from acting on any of the fantasies I created, including paying for Madison’s post-graduate work in my home city so I could see her more often.
As it became clear that we would not likely see each other again, our e-mails became more infrequent. Every so often I’d get a missive like, “I want your tongue so badly. Your tongue is incredible. Magical. I want you to make my thighs tremble. I want to be really f#@%ed in the ass too. Make me scream!” My all-time favorite was, “You have no idea how wild I am feeling! I want you to ravish my body right now! I would lick your ass for an hour right now if we were together. I think the more dominant you are, the more inclined I would be to want to lick ass…hold me down, put your cock down my throat, maybe even tie me up a bit. I want you dreadfully!”