Tasting the Young One

I was coming out of a meeting when I got a text message from the Young One.  That's not unusual at all. We had been texting for some time. This one said, "Did u miss me?" and it was followed by another. "Can u see me today? I really need it." Keep in mind that Young One and I have never met in person.  We've exchanged photos, but that's it, except for a lot of texting. It occurred to me that I'd been chatting with him and yanking on his metaphorical chain for almost 2 months.  Maybe it was time to throw him a bone, so to speak.

The timing sucked, of course. Work was busy. Hubby was tracking me very closely. I was struggling with fidelity. But I couldn't deny that this one intrigued me. I have already shared about how tempted I've been.

I asked for his address and he gave me two cross streets. I asked him to be more specific.  He laughed and sent his address.

Kat: You're nervous, aren't you? You were expecting me to say no, LOL

(Of course he was shocked that I was actually coming over.  I'd been fending off all his best game for two months.  He was probably still trying just as a matter of pride.)

Young One: Yeah, a little.

(Then he asked the one question in the world that could have shocked me....)

Young One: What do u wanna do?

(Seriously?  What do I wanna do? It made me wonder if this was the same Young One who had been trying to trick me into sex for months. I decided to toss his softball back to him...)

Kat: Honestly, I don't have time for much. Thursday would be a better day for me.

(Ladies, this is a lesson.  Always give them an out if they are nervous. If he had gone for Thursday, I would have known that he really was just playing and not ready to really play. That would have been fine, of course.  Gentleman, your lesson from this is that not taking charge of the situation could have cost this Young One a world class blow job.  My response to "What do u wanna do?" normally would have been, "Nothing.  I'm going back to work.")

Young One: You could suck me. :)

(Attaboy! I knew he'd step up to the plate!)

What followed as I was driving over was a discussion about whether or not he really wanted to do this at home. There wasn't much discussion about it.  He was good with it so that was that for this time, but generally speaking, I'm not a big fan of fooling around at home - either person's home. It had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with his wife.  That was her home. And the one thing that bothered me about my husband's infidelity was that he brought some of the women to our home and they had sex in our bed.  Ouch! Not cool at all. So it's something I don't do.

Usually.

Except for that day.

I found his house and walked up to the front door.  I could see a shadow of him vaguely through the wrought iron screen door.  When he opened the screen door is when I got my first really good look at him.

His photos did not do him justice.  Not even close. He was very tall. Hair closely shaved. Muscular.  Fit. Lots of tattoos. Stunning, disarming smile. Gorgeous. To be completely honest, he was probably the best looking man I've ever been that close to being with, in a Biblical sense, of course - and I've been with some very good looking men.

I took a deep breath and followed him into the living room.

We sat and chatted.  He had a baseball game on, which I told him was a bad idea because if baseball is on TV I have a hard time focusing on anything else. But it was a Dodgers game so it was easy not to watch.

He was nervous.  That was obvious. There was small talk.  At one point he asked again, "What do you wanna do?" I felt a little sorry for him, but I wasn't going to let him off the hook, so I replied, "I don't know. What do you wanna do." For about 60 seconds I felt like we were in junior high.  I hated junior high.

I had just about resigned myself to the fact that we'd watch the game for awhile, chat, and then I'd go back to work.  We'd met.  He was a genuinely nice guy.  It was certainly worth the time to connect, even a platonic connection,  with someone I'd been chatting with for a couple of months.

Then he took my hand and put it on his cock, which was growing hard under his shorts. I smiled, thinking "Attaboy!" again as I started stroking him. He was fully hard within 30 seconds. I reached into his shorts so I could really touch him and he pulled his shorts down.

I was trying to be cool, but I think I moaned audibly when I saw it. It was larger than average, both in length and girth. I complimented him on it's size, but he deflected the compliment.  Then I thought about his wife again. I thought, he's stunningly gorgeous, kind, smart, charming, and he's got an amazing cock - and she leaves this man alone and ripe for the picking? Someone needs to set her straight.


But I only thought about her for 2 seconds because his cock had my attention again and I knew I needed to suck on it.  He had already told me that he had never been able to cum from a blow job, which I found very sad, yet amazing. As y'all know, I pride myself on my oral skills and I took that information as a challenge. Could I succeed where all the younger women had failed? I was fairly confident, but not overly so.  Experience makes a huge difference (and I have more experience than most), but some men simply can't cum that way. I decided to just settle into the task and enjoy myself.  And that's exactly what I did.

Sucking on a new cock for the first time really is a pleasant experience. It's all about exploration, trying different rhythms and pressures and depths until I find the ones that make him moan - or scream. This can take 30 seconds or 30 minutes. After the exploration phase, when I know exactly what's going to make him cum, we enter the power phase.  I pull back a bit, denying him what I know he likes, then giving it back to him, then pulling back again. That's when it's no longer about figuring out how to get there, but being the one who guides him on the journey, the one who decides when he gets to arrive. He can try to guide me with his hands, but I'll only comply if I want to.  If not, I can simply stop doing what he wants until he lets go and lets me take over again. No matter how you slice it, the whole BJ situation is my territory and I'm in charge.

I know there are many women who don't enjoy giving head, but they simply don't get it and they haven't had the patience to learn to do it right. A man is rarely more vulnerable than when his cock is in your mouth, and there are few situations in this world in which a woman has so much physical control over a man. The power differential flip-flop can be addicting for some.

Every now and then, I looked up at Young One laying back on his couch.  Damn, he was gorgeous from that position, too. He asked what I thought about young cock.  I don't even remember my answer, but I'm pretty sure I grunted in the affirmative before diving back down for more. It did cross my mind that that cock would feel incredible in my other two orifices, but I didn't let myself go there. My focus had to be right in front of me.

He leaned forward and reached down my top so he could fondle my breasts.  As soon as he touched my nipples I gasped a little and felt my panties get even wetter. It made me a little sad that I'd be leaving there unsatisfied myself, but I figured I'd jump on Hubby when I got home after work, so he'd be happy, too. (See? It's a win-win!)

At one point, Young One asked if we could fuck, but I didn't reply at all. I just kept focused on what I was doing. I suspect he was starting to think it wasn't going to happen, and he wanted to cum.  Who can blame him for that?  But I knew we were getting close.

I'm not sure exactly how long I'd been snacking on Young One's cock, but I'm pretty sure it was the better part of 30 minutes before I returned to the approach that I knew he liked best. He came hard. I swallowed, several times. I made sure I lapped up the drop that escaped my mouth, then I got up from my knees and sat on the couch next to him.

He was pleased.  I was happy that I had accomplished what others hadn't. Okay, so I'm a little competitive.  What's wrong with that?

There was a little more small talk, but I knew I had to go, and he had some pressing business, too. I got a nice hug and then left. I drove away smiling, very glad that I took the time for the visit.

Tempted by a Young One

Here I am, at work, being good, minding my own business and I get a text from Young One. I met Young One on FetLife.  He lives just blocks away from here.  And he's young.  Very young. 27-years-old young.

For those of you having trouble with the math, that makes him 20 years younger than me.

Here's how the conversation started:

Young One: I'm having a horrible day  I wish you could get away.  I need company.

(Appealing to my care-taking nature.  Good move.)

Kat: I'm sorry. What are you having a horrible day? What's up?

Young One: Just one of those days, nothing is going right.

(Careful, Young One.  There is a fine line between inspiring care-taking and looking pathetic. Don't cross it.)

We chat about work for a bit and then, 3 hours later.....

Young One: So, can you spare 30 mins today?  For a man who is having a bad day?

Kat: I do need a good hard fucking, believe me.  But I can't.

(I know, I know. Teasing the animals young ones isn't nice, but I couldn't resist.)

Young One: If I ever need you, today would be it.  Please, darling.

(Uh oh.  Sweet talk.  Red alert. Temptation level rising.)

Kat:  What's going on?

Young One: I just wanna cuddle and talk.

(Uh.....right. I'm simply too old to fall for that, but let's go with it, shall we? By the way, if I were 20 years younger, that may have convinced me.)

Kat: I would love to cuddle and talk, too, but I really have to work.

(One good lie deserves another, right? The lie isn't that I have to work because I do.  The lie is that I want to cuddle and talk.  If we only have 30 minutes, I wanna fuck.)

Young One:  You can't spare 30 minutes?

Kat: No, I really can't.

Young One: I think you can. You just don't wanna.

(Ooooo!  Well done, Young One!  That's a challenge....)

And so the conversation continues, dancing between discussions of work, and sex, and his attempts to convince me to spare 30 minutes or an hour for....well...you know.

Let me tell you a bit about Young One.  You already know his age.  He's a veteran, married, has a young child, and he's quite attractive. He's the kind of guy who's not used to being turned down or put off by anyone, but especially not by a woman who is 20 years older than he and not anywhere near as cute as the young girlies he has bedded. In short, Kat is a challenge for him.

Here's my dilemma.... Y'all know I'm attempting to be good, practicing semi-fidelity (I know my anonymous friends will go nuts over that description...go for it, boys) by sticking with Hubby and sometimes JJ. You know I prefer not to play in my neighborhood and that I rarely play with young ones.

But his weeks (yes, weeks) of pursuing me are starting to have an effect. I actually like him. He's very bright, creative, persistent, and gorgeous.  What's not to like about that?

So, here's the conversation in my mind....

A quickie wouldn't hurt...but if I have time, I'd  rather see JJ....but he's SO hot....but I told Hubby I'd be good.....but I'll bet his young cock gets as hard as granite.....but I really want JJ....but he's so nice--maybe we can meet for coffee or just talk......but we know what will happen if we meet at all, and it won't be just talking.....but I'll bet he has enough stamina to keep going and going and going.....but he lives nearby; that's dangerous.....did I mention that he's hot?.......but Hubby would be devastated if he found out I was screwing a young one.......

And so it goes on and on and on.  Everyday, the temptation gets louder and my objections get weaker.

As I write this, this text just came through....

Young One: I want you.

(sigh)

I don't know how long I can hold out.  I don't know that I want to. Maybe a little taste of young one is just what I need.

Where's JJ when I need him?

Dimly Lit and Naughty

Daunt here. It’s funny how inspiration works for me. Sometimes it will blindside me at a moment I least expect, like when I wrote The Art that is Woman. Other times it comes on slow, like watching a pot of water come to a boil. One bubble then two. Five. Twelve. Then eventually the entire pot is roiling and steaming.

This afternoon Madison sent me a sweet, sexy text, "I'd love to be out with you some night in a very dimly lit place sitting close and be a bit naughty."

Of course this made me smile and for a moment my eyes go out of focus and I stare at nothing. In my mind an image gets painted, a visual of being in a romantic restaurant, dim lights, a flickering candle on the table. In our quiet little corner Madison is holding my arm, her cheek is against my shoulder. She tilts her head and her bright blue eyes look into mine. As each thought brings the picture more into focus my smile widens.

I reply to to her text, "Mmmmm, we’ll have to do that." I return my thoughts to work, but I’m unable to concentrate. The picture in my mind repeatedly reasserts itself. The slow boil had begun.

Okay, I tell myself, if this visual won’t let me work, let’s see where it wants to take me. I lean back in my chair, close my eyes, and set my imagination loose. A naughty thought pops in my head, my smile becomes mischievous and tight.

Where were we... Yes, Madison is holding my arm, her cheek is against my shoulder and she’s looking into my eyes. The story begins to take shape.

Smiling warmly I lean in and kiss her gently. I slide my hand down her leg, pulling her skirt up slightly so I can rest my right hand on her bare thigh near the knee.

My left hand plucks a glass of wine off the table, as I sip my eyes take in our surroundings; the restaurant is quiet, sultry. Scattered about couples are sharing meals and hushed conversation, their dark profiles hovering above rich long tablecloths. The warm glow of candles cast fluttering shadows across their faces.

I look back toward Madison and give her a sly wink. I set the glass of wine down and gently begin tracing light circles on her inner thigh with my finger. Slowly, taking my time, the light trace of my finger loops higher and higher. Madison shifts, I look at her face. Her eyes lock on to mine and I notice her lips are parted slightly. Her legs open a little more. She’s wanting me to touch her, I smile and keep teasing. She gives me a little whimper and a mock pout.

As Madison’s breathing becomes heavier, I decide I have made her wait long enough. My hand slides toward her pussy then stops, I raise my eyebrows in question. A wicked smile spreads across her face. “What? You thought you were going to get to be naughty first?” she laughs. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

My fingers glide across the lips of her sex, she’s dripping wet. I slide one finger into her easily then a second; she takes an urgent breath and arches her back a little. I press the palm of my hand down on her clit. “Well, you may have won the first round, but this game is mine.” I say to her, “Open the side pocket of your purse.”

Madison reaches over and lifts the flap on the side of her purse. Her eyes go wide. “What is that doing here?!”

I watch her face as I remove my fingers from inside her. She shudders and bites her lip, longing in her eyes. Pulling my hand out from under the table I hold it out palm up. “Give it here.” I say.

Madison looks around the restaurant and sheepishly slides the glass toy from her purse quickly placing it in my hand. The toy is cool to the touch. Smooth. I hold her gaze knowingly and with calm deliberation ease the toy under the edge of the table. I slip my hand under her skirt and lay the cool glass against her heated inner thigh. Her eyes glaze and a quiet breathy moan escapes her lips. Steadily the toy makes its way toward her sex. I can feel the muscles of her legs quivering in anticipation.

I slide the glass over her clit. Madison takes a fast ragged breath and grips my arm, nails digging into my bicep. Her other hand grips the edge of the seat, knuckles white. Eyes half-lidded she holds my gaze. I gently part her lips and slip the toy inside her. Her eyes fall closed and she shudders inhaling deeply.

My eyes blaze. “Look at me.” I say quietly. Upon hearing the hard edge to my tone her eyes snap open finding mine. “Who’s pussy am I playing with?”

Madison licks her lips, visibly struggling to regain composure. She takes a slow breath and replies, “It’s your pussy Master.”

I begin to play with the toy, teasing her. “And who decides when my pussy comes?” I feel her legs begin to shake.

“Oh! Ahhh... You do, Master.” she whimpers.

I wrap my fingers around the protruding glass allowing my my knuckles to rub her clit. Madison looks at me, eyes pleading. “Your pussy wants to come Master,” she gasps. I can feel her trembling.

“No... not yet. Close your eyes.” I say. Her eyes fall closed as she takes a deep breath through her nose. I scan the restaurant and find a couple across the way watching us raptly. I address Madison, “Is my pussy ready to come?” Eyes closed, face still pleading she shakes her head yes.

I swallow and take a breath. I want to sooth her. “Good, I’m I’m going to let her come shortly.” Her breathing becomes heavy, urgent. “There is a couple across from us near the door, do you know which couple I am talking about?” Her head nods affirmatively. I watch her face as I give Madison her next directive. “Open your eyes and look at them.” Her eyes slowly open and her cheeks flush when she finds them looking back at us.

I draw her back. “Look at me.” Her head turns toward me, eyes glazed searching mine. “It’s time for my pussy to come.” I say as I begin rocking the toy against her g-spot, my knuckles rubbing her clit in earnest.

“MmmmmMMMMmm!” Madison squeaks as she bucks against my hand, shuddering, gasping.

“Our couple by the door, are they still with us?” I ask. Madison raises her eyes and looks. The couple smiles broadly at her, Madison’s cheeks bloom red causing me to chuckle. “Oh yes, I can tell they’re still watching by the look on your face!” She grins, the embarrassment causes her to want to hide her face from me. Holding her chin, I lift her face to mine and give her a kiss.

The reverie finally breaks and my eyes open. I'm still at work.

"I'd love to be out with you some night in a very dimly lit place sitting close and be a bit naughty."

Yes Madison, we're definitely going to have to do this in the very near future.

A Text Exchange with JJ

I had a text exchange with JJ last night. That's not unusual, but I hadn't heard from him throughout the day so I was a little concerned. I'm not sure exactly what I was concerned about. It was late in the evening and I knew he'd be driving home from work late, so I wanted to make sure he was safe. I was also feeling one of those stabs of insecurity that pops up, usually after dark, when I haven't heard from him recently. My brain starts with what I call "the crazy girl talk" - maybe he's tired of me, maybe he's avoiding me, maybe he's just trying to slink away quietly, maybe I've misread the signs.

Usually, when that kind of crazy girl talk gets rolling (which is not very often at all), I'll run it by Cara and she'll say something sweet and reassuring like, "Oh come on. Stop worrying! It's obvious that he loves you. It's written all over his face. Let it go.  You'll hear from him." I feel better and I'm suddenly grateful that I took her to meet JJ. Sometimes, I'll run my crazy girl thinking by Dauntless, who is much less sympathetic.  He says things like, "For godsake, Kat, please don't send him one of those hideous 'why haven't you answered me?' or 'are you ignoring me?' texts that women like to send.  I hate it when women send me those." Check.  That's not my style anyway. Looks too desperate.

Ok, I may be feeling a bit desperate, but I'm grown up enough and Kat enough to know that showing desperation is one of the most unattractive conditions there is.  Confidence is sexy.  Desperate is ugly. And feelings like this pass.  They always do. Confident is my natural state. But this guy......JJ has me a bit off balance.

Then my phone vibrates. I look. It's him.

JJ: I'm on my way home. How are you?

Kat: (trying to sound "text casual") I'm great!  You?

JJ:  I miss you.  I've been thinking of you all day.

Kat: (trying not to smile like a fool because my husband is sitting next to me) You have been on my mind all day, too. (That's the unadulterated truth. I seriously can't get this man off my mind...and I really don't want to.)

JJ: I want you, Baby...can't wait to see you again.

Kat: (letting my guard down) Oh, I can't wait, either! Are we still on for ---day?

JJ:  Of course! Seeing you is the bright spot of my week!

That's it.  I'm putty in his hands again. All defenses are down.

In-between texts I think about our last time together and how good it felt to be in his arms, how being with him erases all the stress in my life and replaces it with contentment, pleasure, joy.

I remember how he holds me close and looks into my eyes as he pleasures me, kissing me deeply as I start to shake. He whispers, "Cum for me." It's definitely a command, but not a command to push me to do something; it's a command to draw me in, to voluntarily surrender myself to him. I can't say anything, except "yes." My body obeys him, though.  My body always obeys him. He kisses me again as I shudder and release.  His arms wrap tighter around me.  I feel perfectly secure.

Kat: How would you feel about getting together tomorrow after work for a cup of coffee?  I know we won't have much time, but I'd love to see you.

JJ:  That would be great!

Kat:  You'll text me when you're done?

JJ: Definitely.

Just seeing him makes me feel good. He makes me laugh. The last time we met for coffee/tea he held my hand the whole time and I felt like a teenager.  And I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I drift again into remembering our time together, and how after I cum he repositions me and presses his hard cock against the tightly closed entrance to my ass. "Lean back and take me in, Baby," he says. Of course I comply. Having me push myself back onto him is partly about his concern for me - letting me control the pace of entry and level of pain - and partly about commanding an act of submission, giving myself to him before he grabs my hips and fucks me forcefully, asserting his dominance (which I love!) and making us one.

JJ: Talking to you yesterday was exactly what I needed to get through that really rough day.

Kat: I'm glad I could help, but I wish I could have done more.  I felt so helpless.

JJ:  Don't.  Just talking to you makes a big difference.

After he cums, we curl up together and talk, about anything and everything.  His work.  My work.  My kids.  His hobbies. His wife.  My husband. Talk about our spouses is never about complaining or whining, just sharing everyday stuff. I can see why he loves her.  I wish I could get to know her. I know he would really enjoy knowing my husband. They are alike in so many ways.  But that is never going to happen.

After talking for awhile, he kisses me again, although we never really stopped kissing.  Our conversation was peppered with kisses. I kissed his shoulder while he talked.  He kissed my neck while I spoke.  I kissed his earlobe.  He kissed my breast. Back and forth sharing our thoughts and bodies at the same time. But this time he kisses me fully, letting his tongue explore my mouth, and I breathe him in.

He repositions and enters me in one slow, deep stroke. I gasp and wrap my legs around him. He stares into my eyes.  I hold his gaze. We start moving together. The transition from conversation to making love is a seamless one, like it's not even two separate things.  It's more like the sex is simply a natural continuation of the conversation.

Kat:  I wish I could see you now.  I really do miss you.

JJ:  Me, too.  You have no idea how much I want you. ---day seems so far away.

JJ: Too bad you can't get out for just a minute tonight.

Kat:  Yeah, I know, but you know I would if I could, right?  You know how I feel about you.

JJ:  Yes, I know. And you know I feel the same way.

Our text conversation continues with some small talk about work about family, both his and mine. Then we exchange more expressions of desire, of concern, of ...well. some things will stay private between us.

We end the conversation and wish each other a good night and restful sleep. I can't even remember now why I was worried.  Everything is fine. No, it's better than fine.  It's terrific.  It's perfect. I can't wait until ---day.