I still remember vividly the first time I saw him. I had waited anxiously outside the red door in the Bush Intercontinental Airport for more than an hour. Until now, he existed for me purely in photos, as a voice on the phone, and typed words across a screen. I knew only that he would be wearing a green t-shirt and jeans. I paced and worried, worried and paced, my eyes never leaving that door to Customs. God, would he approve of me?
We had met three months earlier on the Internet because I had made up my mind that I would never marry another American man. After spending time in the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland and having friends from England, I knew that either the Republic of Ireland or the U.K. would be the place for me, so I decided to browse through the AOL personals and see what England had to offer. There he was…a nice smile and big brown eyes. I sent him e-mail, and he replied. It wasn’t long until we were talking on the phone and falling hard for each other. Before he came to Texas, his first trip to America, we dabbled a few times in phone sex, but for the most part, we decided to wait for the real thing. And now, I was well aware that the real thing was about to walk through those double, red doors. Moments later, he did.
I called to him. He looked in my direction, smiled. I walked quickly to him, and he hugged me, kissed me on the cheek. Then we practiced small talk on the way through the airport and to the parking garage.
My car was parked in a dark, rather deserted area of the garage. Inside the car, he leaned across and kissed my mouth for the first time. My heart raced. I had a summer dress on, and I felt his hand brush across my bare knee while our tongues touched. The day was hot, humid, and I felt perspiration start to trickle down my forehead. We pulled away from each other, eyed the empty garage around us, and then looked back at each other. He leaned toward me again, his hand caressing my arm, then my breast.
“Wait,” I whispered. I pulled the keys from my purse, started the car, and turned the air conditioner on. Too much of this without any air would surely kill us both! Moments later, we were well into it.
His mouth moved from my lips to my throat, and any man who has ever been intimate with me knows that my throat is the key to my heart. Start there, and you will gain access to everything! I ran my hand across his chest and down to this belt where I fumbled a moment, then finally unbuckled the thing. Urgently, I pulled his shirt up and out of his jeans. I wanted to feel the warmth of his stomach, the hair across his chest. He leaned hard against me, his breath growing fast and shallow. I pushed him back against the door and planted quick little kisses across his stomach, my mouth moving ever closer to the half-open zipper. Lightly, I ran my hand across that wonderfully hard expanse that threatened to burst the seams of those jeans, and I felt myself grow wet from the desire to feel him inside of me.
He ran his hands across and through my hair, pushed my head down. I looked into his eyes and saw that he very much approved of me so far. I unzipped his jeans and pulled them down with his briefs. And suddenly, there it was! That beautiful cock I had seen only in pictures was right before my eyes…and mouth. I wrapped my hand around it, applying light pressure. My mouth found his balls, sucked them in, first one, then the other, then both together. I heard him moan. As I pumped his cock with my hand, I moved my mouth lower, beneath his balls, and tongued his anus. I pushed his legs farther apart, running my nails lightly across his thighs. The goose bumps were my proof that I was doing everything right.
