Awaened

Awakened - I answered his post.

I had looked at the menu, cover to cover 3 times, between futile checks of my phone, before my best friend made it to the hostess stand.

Our wordless exchange of facial expressions:

ME: "where have you been?"

HER: "what did YOU do?"

ME: "what do you mean?"

Then the peals of laughter - the kind to let the other patrons know she and I have NO intentions of being quiet and the server know we will be drinking hard, and tipping well.

It had been weeks since I saw Lani. First round of drinks were on her.

We intended to check in weekly. Especially since I had developed a bit of an addiction to serial stranger encounters via online posts...I keep telling her she can't leave me unchaperoned for weeks at a time.

It has been 5 weeks since we checked in. She has failed as a chaperone AND she was late - probably texting with Matt, I was sure of it.

There were other well-dressed African American women seated at the bar. They were their first and yet we had received our second round before the bartender made it down to them. Nasty looks shot my way, I was happy to use my charm, and boobs, to get what I wanted from the little cutie in a bow tie. Plus, with $3 Cosmos and my social conscious on silence, Lani and I were on full blast!

"See what had happen is ... I needed a massage ... so I met Scott at his hotel," I began. "Wait, what, wait" Lani's laughter had shaken big drops of the pink candy vodka from her martini glass, "who the HELL is Scott?" 6 weeks ago, I was telling her how intense Derek and I were.

I tried to play innocent with a wide eye "Huh," but she did not let it pass. So with a deep dramatic breath, I spoke like a runaway train, "So Derek and I had a falling out because he wanted a "NSA" and I guess I wanted a "FWB" and somehow I was suppose to know that this all means something with online hook-ups ... that actually means separate things ... Aneeeee'WAY ... Derek thought I was too clingy so I was trying to prove to him that I wasn't by branching out ... and, really, I was trying to make him jealous ...but it just turned him on to hear about Joey, the beer friend, and Scott... especially Scott so I sent him emails over the past 2 days retelling the time Scott and I met." I pause, to finally looking away from the glass I cradled with both hands as the words fell out and at her, to see if she was digesting what I said.

I recognized that look - concern, deep concern behind the smile emerging - she shook her head, ordered another drink, and gestures for me to continue my confession. I forgot my "encounters" sincerely shock her. Deep breath - I needed to confess. "So Derek wanted me to tell him about the guys I met since he and I quit seeing each other."

I gave her my phone to read the email I sent to Derek - telling him, now her, about Scott:

First time we spent hours together...not really planning on having sex with him...but he was engaging...we had points of connection in common...we found we had similar "likes"...

About 3 hours into not being sexual...it became sexual. It was like I had never really had sex before - I don't mean it as a slight against you - I just received pleasure from him in a way I never had with even myself. And I am really good at making myself feel great, haha!

2nd time we met, I emailed Scott. I indicated I wanted to see him again...he asked to me come by in 2 days. It was But he ended up having horrible day at work...it was tense/stressed. It was great sex - just not as amazing at the first time. And when I went to shower, I realized he had been with another woman (because the floral shower gel and second body puff had been used) so that freaked me out.

I deleted his emails, twice, because I did not want to be one of many. I thought I came off too demanding with you...so I just wanted to keep my emotional (and physical) distance when I saw girl stuff ...I was done ... kinda.

3rd time, he contacted me. It was enough time to miss him/forgive ... we hadn't really said we were going to be exclusive. I like exclusive - that is who I am - but that first night was worth trying to recreate. Also it was his last night in town...so there was this sick girl logic that he preferred me over her and that worked for me at the time.

This time, we had no time limit. I did not have to rush home, I could enjoy his touch over hours...that was kinda amazing.

Now I love writing erotica but somehow I am not sure you wanted that version...

Lani looked up from the phone, a bit hungry for more, and ordered another drink. I scrolled down to my next email.

Derek knew I was a professor at the university and that I was going for full professor position, so I had to be discreet with my online encounters. Ever since I transplanted here from Indy, I craved to have a friend who was local, eager to meet as much as I was, and was discreet.

Discretion is hard for a college professional who crave cubs. I found cubs enjoy the training - foreplay more than oral sex for me - it was always about the verbal play when apart and touch when together. Derek was an older cub who loved the verbal play - it was the only reason he ever reached out to me after we ended the sexual bit weeks ago.

Scott is older than me and did so much more than touch my body with the passionate attention every woman craved. His touch, his intention, his passion and even his silent patience fired off every single sexual nerve in my body. Without promises or hopes for more - it was complete, we were complete. Sharing touch with him was like awaking from a dream and realizing I was living it each time. Derek wrote back he wanted every single detail - that his cock was so hard and that I was an amazing writer. I re-read the emails to see if it was worth sharing with Literotica readers. I figured it was easier to share how it happened in writing words, even though Lani and I were face to face - plus I could be 2 drinks a head of her if I am watching her read the words like my open letter e'diary.

So this is the 2nd email I found to Derek about the beginning of Scott and I:

His post was about connecting via asexual touch, an hour massage in his home.

Ok, a small lie, it was his "home" for half the month. He is a consultant from out of town. After texting back and forth from the parking lot, I finally agreed to meet him in the lobby before going to his suite for the massage.

I always found touch to be very erotic ... I did not know it before that night but touch can make me orgasm intensely - Scott awakened my body to the longest orgasm of my life - the waves of it came hard and violent the first time and crashed over me unexpectedly throughout the night. I orgasmed in my car sitting at the light long after I left.

To visualize...he was staying at the Seelbach hotel. He was about 6'3"with dark strawberry blond hair and hazel eyes. Thin, athletic with a professional demeanor and vocab. His soft Northern voice was hard to hear at times, so I kept leaning in. Maybe that was on purpose, do guys do that? Scott had no facial hair, well-manicured nails and a fair amount of gray mixed in with with the ginger hair on his chest.

So he told me that in his former career, he was a massage therapist...Don't laugh! Yes I believed him...he had no reason to lie. I was going there for touch.

I think you know teach college biology. He knew more than lay people would ever know about the the body... and his techniques was very clinical, at least for the first hour of touch ...hahaha.

I was so nervous Derek. He had sent me a pic of the room; when I told him I don't go into hotels to meet strangers. But he indulged me, emailing me well past the time I was scheduled to meet him. Eventually, obviously, I got out of my car. He met me in the lobby and escorted me to his suite. The music was that soft, non-descript international music they play in the spa, and the massage table was set up between the sitting area and the king sized bed.

I wasn't ready so to get undressed we sat and talked for quite a while on the sofa. There was this period of comfortable silence, he held me...our breath and heat becoming sync...I relaxed a bit.

We talked...he offered a massage...but I still wasn't ready. I never got naked with beer friend...I wasn't sure I wanted to risk being naked with this guy yet.

Yet, with my back against his chest, I relaxed more. I was very comfortable because he only did what I was ready for ... no pressure like most guys do, even in person, just like he was in his emails.

I hadn't had sex in a long time before Derek... and I ... I was really ready to feel full again. So I guess I knew I wanted to have sex with him before he really touched me - that was what scared me so.

After sitting there with him, with his arms wrapped around me, my back against his chest for several minutes in silence... we connected. My breath was in time with his. I felt his heart race against me but he did not move. I felt I could trust him...and when I felt that, I wasn't scared anymore. I wanted him to touch me.

I took a breath and said I'm ready. He took my left hand and led me to his massage table.

I stood for a moment, alone, before removing my dress and strapless blue bra and lacy panties to slip, naked, between two white sheets. I laid down on my breasts, with my face in the cradle. When I walked into the room, I was convinced I would make him respect the boundaries that I thought I wanted. But by the time I said I was ready, we said so much more in the silence than we ever did aloud. I did not have to say that I had changed my mind.

He worked warm oil into my skin - my back and arms. Finally stopping, just around my buttocks. Little circles, very soft then becoming deeper...pressing from the outer edges of my cheeks ... towards the middle ... finishing the strokes on my inner thighs.

He did not to touch my thick brown lips. But by then, with the hour of connecting, breathing his air and feeling his heart beating against me, my body was already aching for him to give me more. He was so technical and clinical...I was reacting to his practiced touch although he had not once exceeded normal boundaries.

I think he enjoyed seeing my evolution: from shy, to accepting; from warming, to melting.

He asked me to roll over. In a fluid covering motion, he replaced the top sheet with a medium size towel. Only then did the massage change to something much more sensual...much more sexual.

As you can imagine, my very full breasts were barely contained under the under the small cloth. My dark areolas exceeded the boundaries of the towel on both sides. The draft of air from the vent startled me and my eyes fluttered open. It was only then that I realized that his shirt was now off.

He sat at the top of the bed remove the face cradle and begin to massage my neck and shoulders. From this point, I can feel his breath on my skin. Struggle to calm my own breathing ...I found myself arching towards his touch. He walked to my left and began to oil my arm. Relaxed, unaware of my position, my hand brushed against his bare cock. He was physically aroused but never showed and sexual tension at his actions. He had removed his clothes...shirt and shorts in the transition periods. Since my eyes were closed and the music filled the room. I really couldn't say when it happen.

He continued his work on my arms and hands, unhurried, I lost track of time. Connecting touch, he came back to the head of the table. My round breasts minimally covered, the large candy sized nipples had responded to the touch and cool air - even more my areolas exceeding past the hem of the white towel.

He folded the top down...my breasts exposed to the air, I shivered in anticipation of his touch.

He was deliciously slow.

His hands glided over the front of my upper chest and down the side of my ribs. Each pass coming closer to the edge of my breasts.

With small circles around the outer parameter, he began breast spirals towards the erect nipple but before crossing the dark areola, his pressure became more light and his finger smooth over the sensitive peaks. Spiral, glide, spiral. By his 3rd torturous past, he began kneading the skin and adding pressure to most sensitive places.

I felt the pressure and blood fill my center.

My clitoris pulsed and twitched on her own. So slowly, I felt the rise of an orgasm and he was still working the left breast. I became vocal...the intensity of want was too much too me...I began to arch and squirm...trying to rub my legs together to let the release come faster...he gave pause.

My breathing was ragged but I knew he would not leave me this way...so I centered my thoughts to calm the fire a bit...so he could start again on the right.

Another email. Another drink. Lani's dark skin was reddened and I was both embarrassed and pleased my story had an effect on my friend.

The right breast is not as responsive as the left one... but again he worked me until the little storms between my legs began to rise again. Moans and whimpering came from my chest -- my hands reached up to feel him. He stopped - discouraging me from touching him.

Gliding his hands down my body, he walked to my right. His full erection made the head of his cock in full view ... just within reach of my fingers. But his paused warned me - I could not touch him ... yet.

Minutes past, Scott stroked my inner thigh and mons ... the quiver in my legs relaxed and the storm within my sex quieted.

He placed my feet together - opening my legs to a vulnerable diamond before him.

His fingers traced the outline of my lips. Outer top to where they join to my most sensitive place. Light touches on folds of soft brown petals framing my dark pink bud...down again to the smooth place beneath the lips. Again ... again...again... again... again and once more. Sweetest torture.

My wetness made his entry easy.

One long finger enter me...little orgasmic contractions surfaced as my pinkness seeking to bring him in deeper.

He knew I could not last long.

His thumb pressed and glided over my clitoris as two fingers disappeared into me. His left hand kneading and twisting my left nipple the pleasure pain bring back the first wave of passion he sent me on earlier that night. My clitoris ... the most demanding parts of my body ... completely subdued by his dance over the bud...finding the most hidden of her secrets - the orgasmic spot that sends me over the edge and excites me all the same time. His fingers curled and stretched within my pinkness... wetness covering over his hands and the white sheet below.

My skin and muscles were electrified - my mind still cannot discern which set off the orgasmic waves that continued in varying intensity throughout that night. The nipple torture crashed into the clitoral dance and the vaginal finger-fuck I was receiving - my body was without my control. I was writhing, nearly convulsing ...cumming from the exciting explosions of sensations from all these parts of my body. I felt like a goddess on an alter being possessed by him - a live offering on the table before him. I endured it for so long laying before him - until I was up, curled around his hand -- still cumming the whole time...crying out loud enough to disturb his neighbors.

I reached for him ... again denied...until the ferocious waves calmed ... This was for me, about me - awakening all of me.

He stood before me... my legs on either side as I sat upon the table...

His glans - smooth and wet with precum -- nestling and working my swollen clit. I asked him for a condom.

He stood there ... a bit defiant ... and silent. Then began his advance again.

I moaned...growled...cursed...moaned again ... then pushed him away ... gently.

He went to get what I asked for then guided me by the hand to the bed.

Next story in series to come about Bella and Scott: Touch - Creative Play