Note: Have you ever wondered why so many write Erotic stories? I suspect, for some it's a way to fantasize. Others use writing as a way to relieve themselves of sexual frustrations. And for others . . . well read my story and find out.
Thanks to a great Wyoming legal secretary, for her editing and help. L -- You did a great job. Thanks!
Enjoy, t_e
*
"I'll be back in two weeks and am staying from Tuesday the 7th through Thursday the 9th. I'll keep Wednesday afternoon free and we'll meet here again."
I was leaned over and resting my arms on the open window of Ashley's car. It was late afternoon and she was getting ready to leave the Holiday Inn parking lot.
"This isn't going to be a one time thing? You're really going to come back?"
I knew that question was coming.
The all-American looking, barely eighteen year old high school senior, hadn't been a virgin when we met, five hours earlier, however, I suspected that she'd had more sex this afternoon, than all her previous encounters combined.
I didn't answer her question directly. Instead, I lowered my left hand and lifted the hem of her short tan skirt. Her pussy was uncovered, as I had kept her panties as a souvenir of our afternoon together.
Grabbing a tuft of blonde pubic hair, I reminded her, "And this will be shaved bare?" It wasn't really a question.
She nodded, "Yes. I'll shave for you."
I looked to the passenger seat and Ashley's best friend, Maggie. "You're welcome to come also, but I want your pussy bare, too."
Maggie gave me a wicked smile. "Maybe we'll shave each other."
I smiled at Maggie and warmed to her kinky suggestion.
I let my fingers trace along Ashley's well used pussy lips. She was soaked and moaned as I explored her hole and clit. Slowly, I eased two fingers into her pussy and stroked her deep. Her pussy juice and my cum coated my fingers.
Looking at Maggie, I told her, "Rub her clit."
Maggie leaned into her girlfriend, dropped her hand against mine, found Ashley's clit and circled her nub.
After an afternoon filled with orgasms, I was surprised she came so quickly. A short minute after starting, Ashley was bouncing in her seat and moaning, "So good . . . so good . . . sssoooooo fuuuuuuuucking goooooooooood!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I teased her for a few more moments as she settled, then raised my hand. I held it out to Maggie, "Be a good little slut and clean my fingers."
Maggie groaned, "Oh God," as she leaned in and took my fingers into her mouth. When my fingers were clean, I told Ashley, "Clean Maggie's fingers."
The sexually exhausted teenager opened her mouth and licked her pussy juice from her girlfriend's fingers.
Hi. I'm Christopher. I'm a real life Literotica author. I write stories about a dominant male and his sex partners. Some readers love my stories and have written me with great feedback, suggestions and encouragement. Others have written, looking for more.
Literotica Feedback -- Dated: September, 13, 2005
Hi.
I'm Ashley. I want you to know that I love your stories. I've read each of them at least ten times. I have a boyfriend. He's sweet and kind and all my friends say I'm lucky to have him. But I'll be honest. I'm really attracted to the guy in your stories. You know -- older, mature, strong and confident. That kind of person scares me a little, but I get so turned on. I like to rub myself at night and think of all the things the guy in your story, makes the women do. I wish you'd write a new story every day.
Your fan.
Ashley.
I'd just submitted my eighteenth story to Lit and was reviewing the comments and feedback. I always respond to emails with thanks and a request for suggestions on future stories. I sent Ashley a quick email.
Ashley's second email arrived the next morning.
Hi Christopher.
I was so excited to get an email from you. After reading all your stories and your biography on Literotica, I feel like I know you. I'm only eighteen and don't have much sexual experience, so I won't be much help for your next story.
But last night, I thought of something that made me so hot that I had to write you back. If I tell you about myself, would you write a story about me? I wouldn't mind if you treated me like a . . . you know . . . a slut. From your bio, I know you're thirty years older than I am, but the idea of a strong confident older guy, having sex with me is a huge turn-on. It would be so hot to read a story about that.
I hope you'll do it!
Love, Ashley Cornelius, NC
My mind filled with wild fantasies as I finished her note. Cornelius, NC is ten miles north of Charlotte and directly off interstate 77. My largest customer is headquartered in Morrisville. Ten miles further north.
Ashley and I emailed daily. Typical of the anonymous relationships allowed on the internet, Ashley was very descriptive and open about her sexuality. She was a sweet, inexperienced girl, who had fantasies of sexual domination.
I wrote Ashley one Monday:
Hi Ashley,
I want you to know that I haven't been able to work on our story since Saturday. I'm traveling on business the next few days. I doubt I'll have much free time, but I will add to the story later in the week.
If you hear a car horn on route 77 tomorrow, it will be me saying hi!
Let's talk soon.
Christopher
Her response arrived in less than an hour:
Um Christopher,
You're coming to NC??????????
Wanting Ashley's tension to build, I didn't write until the next morning.
Good Morning Ashley,
Yes, I'll be in NC. I'm flying to Charlotte later this morning and visiting a customer in Morrisville until Thursday.
I have some free time on Wednesday and would like to meet you. We can put faces to names. I'll meet you at the Starbucks, in Birkdale Village and we can talk about the story.
I won't have my computer, so I won' be able to see your response, but I hope you'll be available. I'll be at Starbucks at 11:00 and be there for 30 minutes.
I hope to meet you.
Christopher
Birkdale Village is an open air mall, complete with apartments, condos, offices, retail shops, restaurants, bars and other venues.
At 10:30 on Wednesday, I was sitting at one of Starbucks outdoor tables sipping a venti bold. I was facing the store and pretending to read the Wall Street Journal. In reality, I was watching the reflection in the store front window.
Ashley arrived a few minutes later. She sat on the wall of a fountain, in the middle of a rotary, opposite the Starbucks front door. From the distorted reflection, I could tell Ashley matched the description she had given me. She was tall and had a thin/athletic build. Her hair was blonde and pulled back in a pony tall. Her breasts filled out a white tank top, with spaghetti straps and left her mid-riff bare. Long legs fell from a short tan skirt.
I watched as Ashley stared at every person walking near Starbucks. She opened the cover of the cell phone and checked the time every few minutes. As time passed, her crossed left leg bounced with nervous energy.
At 11:00, Ashley stood, swung her purse over her shoulder and started to the door. As she reached out to grab the door handle, I interrupted, with a polite, "Hello Ashley."