This story is about a man's look back at his life, and a certain coming-of-age moment. There is no underage relationship, nor is one implied. Just the first yearnings of puberty and it's lasting effect on one man. Take it as the fantasy it is. Thanks.
*****
This memory comes flooding back to me like it always does. I was just an innocent at the time, probably eighteen, but I was feeling the sexual urges that come to any young guy. Especially when in the presence of the woman of his dreams. That for me, is when it all began to go sour. It started with this one particular woman, and though it was many years ago now, the conflicting memories return to me on random, idle occasions. At that moment of life I was full of hormones and completely lacking in experience, but my fantasy life was in overdrive. At night, alone in bed, I conjured moves of seduction and dominance that would make me the "Dreamworld Don Juan." But in the daylight, with an actual beautiful, sexy, adult, female alone in her apartment with me, I was just an obedient student.
She was the perfect woman for me: exotic, flirtatious, older and more experienced, and built like a brick house! Maybe that was my downfall, my first close-up view of the forbidden fruits. But for me, it was what was temptingly revealed, and alluringly hidden beneath those flimsy tops that sparked my enthusiastic pursuit to this day. To this day, and it has been years, I can never forget my initial introduction to the trophy that all virgins dream of holding in their sweaty little hands. Nothing ever happened between us, infact I remained a virgin until much later, and even today many years past, there is still always a tune, a foreign accent or maybe a fragrance that makes me remember. But still, she was the first, I'll always remember it that way. The vision in my head always starts something like this.
Those creamy tits feel so good in my grasp. My hands fondle and balance the shifting weight of her heavenly breasts. I pinch and squeeze the tawny nipples, causing her to squeal with a passionate delight. Then I tug at them and bite them, eliciting more deep moans of desire. I take extreme liberties with her because I know she really wants it, and feels freer if she surrenders control to a dominant man. I imagine that my strong arms are tenderly wrapped around her velvety ribs from behind her, my body against her warm back. My approach is to wend my rough hands top to bottom. From her tired shoulders down her spine, and to massage their way across the slight curve at the small of her back and progress slowly up to her shoulders and neck. My straining cock presses into her skirt just above her firm ass. She feels the warmth and the pressure from my erection and I hear a soft trilling murmur escape from her lips. Those same soft, pink lips I yearn to thrust my tongue between. And the very lips I wish to see at my crotch, licking and sucking the firm shaft and purplish, helmeted head of my rigid tool.
Her body quivers with desire as my hands work their path under the silken top and explore the suddenly moist flesh of her tummy. She squirms in my grasp while my fingers ease under her sheer bra and tenderly manipulate the swelling tips of her pliant, firm globes. She purrs and writhes under the spell of seduction, unconscious to my frantic hands tearing away at her blouse and forcing the cups of her bra up her heaving chest.
She's an older woman, single and lonely, and she sparks to life in these secretive trysts where she can act-out her prurient fantasies with a young stud attentive to her needs. At our meetings she always dresses conservatively to avoid prying eyes, but will whisper to me of taboo under-garments or allow my wandering digits to stealthily explore the hidden secrets. When seated side by side, my fingers often make a sly move up her lean leg and settle snugly in her warm, inviting crotch where they daintily tickle her inner thighs. And in crowded rooms, my hand will roam freely under the firm cheeks of her ass, patting and petting so that no one will notice.
I can picture her sometimes in a sheer camisole waiting for me In private, or other times I charm her into slowly peeling off the layers of prim finery and revealing to me a lace bra and hinting that there is nothing below. I am granted easy access to her deep cleavage and can drive her to ecstasy by dropping to my knees between her toned, bare legs. I often paw at her athletic body, gripped with a passion to possess her. She is forced to slow me down, promising that if I observe the desired foreplay, I will be well rewarded for my efforts. I struggle to control my urges and when I settle into a smooth pattern I readily see the pleasures and thrills I can impart to her. And after she recovers from a few moments of orgiastic spasms she yearns to fulfil her submissive dreams. The training is well worth the payoff. In my mind I am a smooth operator, attuned to the hidden desires and repressed sexual fantasies all women are willing to explore, if only a confident, well-endowed hero should enter their lives. In truth, I was a late-bloomer whose trembling hands only ever manipulated my own over-used organ. But let's go with the fantasy, it makes a better story.
As she climbs on top of my rigid cock, she marvels aloud at how hard I get and the many times I can respond. She strokes my cock with long, supple fingers, and then strokes my immature ego with graphic depictions of my sexual prowess and how I bring her to a perpetual state of arousal where no other man possibly could. She promises to be my sexual tutor and mistress, if I only take the effort to arouse her emotions. I am given full access and complete reign over her stunning torso. She readily surrenders to my deviant requests and is an adventurous sexual partner whose only qualification is, that I take the time to bring-out her strongest orgasms. Nothing is off-limits with her: whips, lotions, toys, etc. as long as I bring her to climax. In licking her trimmed vagina, she teaches me to softly nuzzle her swollen clit, slowly mouthing the alphabet while my wet fingers toy with her outer lips and just tickle the inside of her tight ass. I count to twenty, breathing deeply as my pointed tongue twirls her wiry-haired pubes and jabs at the sweet crevice under my nose. She asks me to wet my fingers with the sticky-sweet juices welled-up in her hot, steamy vagina, then slowly insert and twist them, one finger each in her warm twat and also her tight little ass. She grips my straining knob tightly in her clenched fist as I perform the erotic tongue-lashing that sets her off. I know that in this way she controls my passions while she experiences her booming orgasms, but I consider it as a learning tool, and also the warm, firm pressure of her slippery hand on my cock is more than satisfying. I can handle it.
