This is the first erotic story I've written in a few years, and I'm at a place where I want to write down my fantasies and share with the wider world.
As it's my first story, I'm not going to presume it'll be amazing but I'm going to give it my all! It'll be in two parts.
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At 22 and looking back over casual flings when I was at university and two long term relationships, for me sex was good or better. Did kinky, thrilling or dangerous encounters supercharge me with horniness?
No.
I suppose I would consider myself attractive, a brunette but mostly dyed more mousey blonde - I felt it suited my personality more. So why did I feel like I was missing out?
I'm a slim yet curvy 5'6", with mostly dyed mousey blonde hair which suits my personality and thanks to running, strong legs which I can live with.
I've been seeing this new guy Jake for a couple of months now. He's more sexually open than previous boyfriends and said from the start that our relationship was open. Sex with him is amazing, and I had no real desire to go find other men to sleep with.
He started the adventure when he suggested something different. He'd find another man for me, and I'd enjoy that encounter whilst he watched. I'd be in control and do whatever I was comfortable with, and I was free to back out at any time.
I didn't immediately say yes, but the more I thought about the proposition, the more interested I became - the excitement, risk, danger, thrills, all new and all tingling through me like electricity. I was getting wet at the thought of this new steamy avenue I would have never considered before.
Then one night at his place, with most of a bottle of red wine drank, he said he found someone and shared a photo, and I was shocked! How could my boyfriend be so wrong? He was 29, and I had no interest in anyone older than that.
In shock I spluttered Beaujolais, "Twenty-five years older?! Are you serious?!"
Did I trust my fella's judgement or tell him to fuck off? Did I be a pussy in the wrong sense? Or did I let my pussy get filled?
I didn't chicken out. I said yes, provided that I could back out at any time. Whilst my boyfriend set up the meet I alternated between bricking it, curiosity, imagination and anticipation. I was wet some of the time, so maybe the idea wasn't so bad.
Just how would it be with a man who was 25 years older than me? On a Friday night at my boyfriend's place I was going to find out.
I said yes, with the caveat that I could change my mind at any time, and I meant any time.
We organised it, well in reality he organised it! It was a Friday evening at his place as I lived in a shared house so that wouldn't have worked at all.
On the night, I went to get ready and he set the scene - subtle lighting, candles and opening the wine.
I showered, terrified, worrying about the upcoming ordeal. Naked, I did my makeup and chose my outfit. Oscillating between excited and terrified. A glass of wine helped take the edge off my fear. I decided on a bra and panties set, ivory panels with a black lace trim. I was indecisive over stockings, until black hold-ups had me feeling almost horny!
I then matched this with a black dress, a little sparkly, a nightclub or first date item. Tight fitting, it felt right, perfect for this occasion. Here I was, putting myself out there as something sexy, not frumpy.
The ambiance my boyfriend had set up made everything feel too real. Oh crap! I wanted more wine than I knew would help. Then what good would I be? This torture had time moving like a snail. When the doorbell rang and my boyfriend went to answer my heart and body jumped. You could have scraped me off the ceiling. Post-shock, a nervous wreck, glued to the sofa, I fidgeted with clothing I didn't need to rearrange.
My liaison was a looker. Distinguished, he had salt and pepper hair and he wore immaculate trousers and a crisp shirt. I froze, unable to speak and greet him.
He saved me by speaking first. "Very nice to meet you. You look even more beautiful than in your photo."
After the introduction my boyfriend went and sat on an armchair, so I didn't feel so much that he was a voyeur.