There's something exciting, thrilling and nerve-racking about anonymous sex. I mean, one-night stands are probably just as old as the act of prostitution, but nevertheless, remain pleasantly sought after. Who doesn't want the chance to meet up someone and fuck their brains out without judgment? In my experience, anonymous are much less judg-ier. And if they are, it doesn't matter. You'll never hear from them again. Unless, you two (or three, or four) have enjoyed each other's bodies and meet and tangle again and again.
My first anonymous sex encounter was at the age of 26. I had met Bob through Craig's List and we met at a hotel room he was staying at. Totally awkward at first. What do say to someone you came to meet for sex only? Veterans in the game pretty much have a science on how much lip service versus dick service to give, but this was my first time. I was meeting up with a man of 59 years --more than twice my age -- and he wanted to please my body in the most worshiping manner possible. He wanted to devour my pussy. And I wanted him to. So when I knocked on his door to gain permission to entered, I wasn't surprised that the "mood" was set. All the lights were off and the light that shone was bleed through the curtains from the outside world. The air conditioner was on medium-high. One would think that making the room cooler would keep clothes on. But, in fact, sex is a heat generating activity, and cool air is always welcome. He had his shoes removed, the blankets untucked on the bed and ushered me in as he was finishing up a phone call from work. I smile and made my way from the door the edge of the bed, listening as he talked business, ending the conversation. The first thing he said to me was how beautiful I looked. That was nice. He asked how I was doing and other idle conversational bits. The ease of our of chit-chat relaxed me to a point I began to get comfortable on the bed and in no time, we were lying, slightly facing one another and talking. During our "get-to-know-you" exchange, my sandals had slipped off. His hands rubbed and palmed over my hips and thighs through my maxi dress. He subtly inched my dress higher and higher until the top of my thighs were exposed to his hands. I've made it habit since my experience with Bob to never wear panties if the menu is sex. I don't see the point. We're going to fuck. We're gong to suck. Why bother with the barrier? Unless you want to see me take it off. Or you want to be the one to take if off of me.
It wasn't look before he his rubbing became massaging and his massaging became kneading. And his kneading became parting. Bob slide further down the bed to part my legs and became placing butterfly-light kisses on the inside of my thighs. The gentleness was so seductive I was dying in anticipation. He was happy to find I was wearing no panties as it made for one less task he would have to contend with. But he was there to calculate the number chores he would have to complete. He was there for a feast. And feast he did. He started slowly placing kisses on my pussy lips until he began sucking on them, nibbling on them. He moved his way from the outside to the inside. Nibbling gradually turned into sucking and the next thing I knew, my legs had fallen further apart and his whole head buried between my thighs and mouth as smothering my vagina. I loved it. I loved every illicit moment. The few times I was aware enough to look down, all I saw was head. Head moving and swaying back and forth, up and down and in all sorts of directions that have no names. He ate me out. He ate my sweet tender pussy like he was eating his last meal before a long food-less trek before him. And then he found my clit. My pierced clit. And pleasure abounded afterwards. He sucked it. He swirled it. He flicked it. He licked it. He bit it. He played it. And every motion he invented had me panting and quivering for more. At times, I would close my leans when I thought I could take no more and he just gentle press my legs back to continue eating. Other times I would thrust my hips upward to meet his hot mouth demanding more. For an hour, he completely pussy my young tight pussy. And when I thought I could take no more. He began to finger me. First, inserting one finger, then two. If I wasn't begging for release before, I was aching for it now. But her never stopped. He never raised his head once. When he wasn't fingering my wet throbbing pussy, he was gripping my thighs with the right amount intensity to give his tongue better access.
Then I felt it. This hotness beginning to boil. It started in the pit of my stomach and slowly dropped to when his mouth had been exercising. I was cumming. Oh, yes. He had ignore every plead and kept plowing forward with mouth that I felt myself build up an orgasm. And I felt my hips begin to react all on their own. They thrusted and twitched and I had no more control over them than he did. But he didn't stop. He continued to eat and such and bite and nibble and swirl and suck until... until... until.. shit.. I came. I felt my whole body tense and his arms grip me even more tightly. I came in his mouth. He liked it. I loved it. He allowed me to come down while playing with my breasts as I catch my breath. I felt the cool air brush up against my pussy from both our wetness, I felt the throb to slow down. But he wasn't down. As soon as I caught my breath. He went for round two.
If round one was about the build up, round two the need. Now that he knew where to touch and how to touch me to provoke a response, he hit all of them first with no hesitation. And still being sensitive to the touch, my second orgasm came faster, although he did allow it to build for a short while before watching me squirm in need and lust.
When he was done, I laid on the bed like exposed and pleasured. He stroke my naked pussy and twisted my harden nipples until we fell asleep. But before we had closed we closed our to awaken shortly for round 3, he was smacking lips. He commented, "that was the best meal I had in a very long time."