One Online Romance
(M/F, rom, internet)
by Kysa Braswell & Gene C.
In a lot of ways, I truly want to be like Kysa Braswell on her kysaonline.com site when it comes to love, I've always wanted the fairy tale. I know that's pretty unusual for a guy, but I've never been the type of guy that has liked the idea of sleeping around. It isn't me at all. Little did I know that about a few years ago, my one and only dalliance would end up changing my life forever.
During the days I was in college in the Midwest, you would have thought, as most people did, that I was the typical bookworm. I didn't go out much, and I really didn't have the desire to. In fact, some people took that to mean I was gay. I wasn't, by any stretch of the imagination. I had a lover, though no one else knew who she was, because she was never there. Allow me to explain. Several years before, I had become a member of a local bulletin board service in my hometown, and it was there that I had met Lacy. She was a sweet girl, though somewhat troubled, and my heart, for whatever reason, just reached out to her and said, "You're the one." We fell in love online, met a few months later (in what was a rather torrid weekend in her family's mountain cabin - surprisingly so, considering we never actually went "all the way"), and continued our relationship when I went off to college in the Midwest.
Unfortunately, Lacy's school obligations wouldn't allow her to take enough time off to come visit me, and since I was relying on financial aid for my schooling, I didn't exactly have the pocket money to come out to visit her, as much as I'd have liked to. So, we had a long distance relationship for some time. This caused us a lot of problems. Lacy is fiercely loyal to me, and doesn't even dream of anyone else, let alone pursue anything. So, I suppose it's natural that she expected I do the same in return. Unfortunately, I had a much harder time with that idea than either of us thought. I finally told her, "Look, I love you, Lacy, but I can't sit here and count the days waiting for you. I have to live my own life."
So we reached a compromise. We agreed that, at least for the time we spent away from each other until we were engaged, we would allow each other to see other people. Now, I'm 6'1", about 220 pounds, but back then I weighed closer to 235, and I had enough flab where I didn't think of myself as all that attractive, so I didn't expect anything to happen. Eventually, however, I developed a new diversion: computers. And I didn't know it at the time, but it was here that I would meet one of the few true loves I've ever had in my life. I discovered newsgroups in my sophomore year, when my college first got hooked up to the Internet with them. Once I figured out how to use them, I started becoming a regular to several of them, and developed several close friendships and business contacts that I still have to this day.
One day, in the middle of the summer, I was scanning my email box when I received a letter from someone I had vaguely seen on one of the groups, named only "Desire". Curious as hell, I quickly scanned the letter. In part, it read:
I've been taking a look at some of the things you've written over the
last few weeks, and I must say, I can't help but admire some of the
things you've said. I can't help sometimes but think about making a
point, look at something you've written, then just point to it and say,
"nod What he said. You strike me as being a very intelligent man, and
I hope that you stick around, because this group needs someone like you.
From here, "Desire" went on to respond to one of my posts, but by that
point I wasn't all that interested in what this person had to say about a
mere post. Not only was the name provocative (I mean, "Desire"? If you
can't be provoked by that, you must be dead), but when I finally got
around to reading the reply, it was quickly apparent that this person was
exceedingly intelligent, with a keen sense of humor that I found very
Plus, I was very flattered by the comments about me. I do flatter easily. Thus, a friendship was born. "Desire" was very secretive at first, as was I. I had no idea why the mystery on the other side of the terminal, but I knew exactly why I was hiding things. I'd been burned once before by somebody who had taken all of my secrets and basically spread them all over the place, even going so far as to take an alias to do so. For all I knew, it might have been the same person all over again. Why play all my cards?
Finally, after what can best be described as a two-week cat-and-mouse game, I finally began to learn more about this person. Her name was Leslie, and she described herself as "the world's first non-boring accountant." She worked for a major firm in New York City, and said she had managed to become "one of the few women in her particular company to make it near the top on my merits, rather than my looks." Needless to say, I liked her already.
It was during this time that Lacy and I had begun to start fighting. I had been close friends with a woman at my college named Leslie, who had been one of the people who really had done wonders to help me get through a difficult year. We definitely had feelings for each other, but we both knew that we couldn't act on them in any reasonable manner. I told Lacy the truth about this, and it made her upset. She began to get scared, talking about how she was worried that I was going to leave her. And this began to cause a few problems for me, because I wondered what that said about her trust in me. Remember, all of this was after our agreement that we could see other people if we wanted.
Apparently, Leslie could sense this, because she asked me if there was something wrong in my life about a week after the fighting started. I told her some of the details, without mentioning names, and said to her, "My biggest problem with Lacy right now is that I don't feel like she's being honest. Honesty, in a relationship, is something that's important
to me, and I don't seem to be getting any of it."
After a couple of exchanges similar to this, I began to see Leslie as quite a close friend. I felt like I could talk about anything with her and not be judged. A few days later, however, she sent me the following message, attached to the end of her reply to one of my letters:
Gene, I think it's time we talked I have to tell you, all this talk about
honesty has given me a bit of a conscience attack. I'm not sure you're
going to be ready for this, but I hope you'll be able to understand and
look at me in the same way. To put it simply: I'm a poly-amorous pervert.
I have relationships already with several different people, and among
other things, I'm in a local BDSM group and write pornographic short
stories for profit. I will understand if you decide that you don't want to
talk to me anymore, I really will. Just let me know one way or the other.
I can't say that I wasn't surprised by this, because I obviously was. But why would she think I would somehow be repulsed by it, when I had clearly demonstrated to her that all I wanted was freedom? I asked Leslie to call me that night, and she did. I must tell you, for lack of a face, the thing that really attracts me to someone is their voice. Hers was one of the most melodious, beautiful voices I'd ever heard in my life. Once I got over that, I told her point blank that I wasn't about to go anywhere, and that she could count on me for a long time as long as she kept being honest with me.
Having been so reassured, Leslie began to be a little more daring. She sent me several of the stories that had been published, all of which were incredibly good and incredibly detailed. Her emails began to be increasingly flirtatious, which I returned in kind, being something of a natural flirt myself. By this point, we had made a point to mail each other at least a couple times a day. Finally, one evening, Leslie, in email, finally asked me the question that I never really thought I'd hear:
"So tell me, Gene," she wrote. "Just what is the status of your relationship with Lacy?"
There it was, in black and white. Was I available? I thought about it for a minute before I wrote my reply to her, and my mind kept coming back to the agreement that Lacy and I had made a long time ago to see others, when she said, "I can trust you, and you can put your trust in me. Everything else is details." I made my decision, and told Leslie that Lacy and I were in an open relationship.
Everything began to progress rapidly after that. When it had become clear that Leslie and I were going to be emailing each other for quite some time, I began to tell Lacy a little bit about her. She made it emphatically clear that she didn't like Leslie in the least, and kept asking me why I would ever want to talk to her. Things were beginning to deteriorate between Lacy and I, and I didn't understand it. Finally, I got a letter in the mail one day, with no return address on it. I opened the letter, and to my surprise, I found a four-day itinerary, with a note on the back saying, "Guess who's coming to dinner in three weeks? Love, Leslie." Needless to say, I was incredibly happy.
Also inside were three pictures of her, one of her face and two "full-figure" shots. And believe me, what a figure it was. She stood about 5'4" and weighed about 110 lbs., and looked closer to 20 than 30. Her face was freckled, and she wore glasses, but she was hardly ugly. Underneath the freckles and glasses was, to put it bluntly, the face of a goddess. Her shorts showed off firmly muscled, yet gracefully long, smooth legs, and with her shirt tucked in, her D-cup breasts became rather prominent.
If I wasn't in love before, I certainly was now.
With Leslie now coming to visit, I thought that I should tell Lacy a little more about just how far my relationship with Leslie was going. Unfortunately, I didn't get to say anything about it. My roommate, an exchange student from Japan, found me in the computer lab about a week later, and insisted that I come up to the room and answer the phone. "Your girlfriend has been calling for the last hour," he said, "and she keeps telling me she's not going to stop calling until I come and get you. So come back up before I go nuts."
Wondering what the heck was going on, I went back to the room and answered the phone, which had started ringing yet again. The next thing I heard was Lacy reading me one of Leslie's more flirtatious letters to me. Somehow, Lacy had gone into a jealous rage and had broken into my computer account. Needless to say, the next two hours consisted of a lot of screaming, yelling, crying and whining on both sides of the phone, with her talking about how I'd betrayed her (never mind that nothing had happened yet) and me yelling at her to get off my back and let me live my own life. After that ordeal was over, I called Leslie and told her just how bad the situation was, and she seemed to understand just how I felt. Or so I thought.
After spending the rest of the day fixing my own personal computer, I hooked up to the Net from my dorm room, and found the following letter waiting for me in my mailbox from Leslie:
Through everything we've said to each other to this point, I have always
trusted that you had my best interests at heart. I have really taken the
time to believe in you, to trust in you, and to understand some of the
difficulties you have had in your relationship with Lacy. And I think
I've done a good job in doing so.
But what you told me of today's argument with her really made me sit down
and think. All things considered, I think I have that right. And I'm not
so sure I like what I see anymore.
You told me that you have been in an open relationship for a while now;
yet she gets angry at the very mention of me, so much so that she decides
she has to break into your account. You tell me that you don't believe
she has a fundamental problem with what you feel for me; yet clearly, she
So, what's a grown woman supposed to think? There's only two things that
I can think, Gene: either you have been vastly misled by Lacy and
her feelings about what she thinks your relationship should be, or you
have been lying, to one or both of us. I don't want to believe the
latter, but my paranoid side is kicking in, and it's usually pretty good.
I am hurt, and I am angry, and I think you need to give me a very good
reason why I should trust you and stay with you. Otherwise, I should
leave. Sometimes that is what loyalty to others, and oneself, really
I was now faced with the possibility of losing two people I had come to care about more than anything else in the world in the same day. But the more I looked at the letter, I could see that Leslie was almost begging for support. "Reach out to me," she was saying. "Let me believe in you."
A couple of hours later was the weekly IRC session that our newsgroup was having. Angry, depressed, and quite stressed out, I logged on, and quickly found Leslie. Within about two minutes, we had moved over to our own private IRC channel, and began at least trying to talk things out. After about two hours or so of trying to get her to understand that I wasn't trying to hurt anyone, things looked like they were beginning to fall through.
"You don't understand, do you?" Leslie wrote. "I... I don't know what to feel right now. I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff hanging on by my fingers, waiting for somebody to either rescue me or throw me over."
"I do understand!" I replied. "I've been trying to rescue you for the past two hours, and I don't know what more I can do; you won't let me!"
"Maybe it would be easier for all of us if you just said goodbye, Andy," she said. "I mean that. Maybe it would be better for everyone involved."
"But how am I supposed to do that?" I asked, hoping that the pleading I was feeling in my heart was getting through. "Easy. Say goodbye," was the reply I got.
I began feeling more desperate. "But I can't do that!" I said. "I just can't!" I really couldn't explain why I kept pursuing it, other than because I felt the whole situation was a misunderstanding and that I felt if we just talked long enough, everything would be all right.
Leslie's reply was a simple, "Why not?" And just then, it struck me. I knew exactly why not.
"Because I think I'm falling in love with you."
A long pause. Then: "You know, it amazes me that all you men seem to think that you can behave any way you want to and then say I love you and expect everything to magically work itself out? You can't do that, don't you understand that? Telling me isn't enough!"
I was furious. I wasn't used to being treated like that by anybody, and considering the rest of the day I had, I wasn't about to take too kindly to being told that I was a manipulator. So I let Leslie have it.
"GODDAMN IT!" I wrote her. "I can't believe what I'm hearing from you! I don't ever say things like that to manipulate people. I can't do that! If that was what I was trying to do, do you really think I'd have stuck around here for three hours listening to you try to make some excuse to get out of the relationship?
"I'm still here because I love you, and I'm not about to go anywhere, so you might as well get that through your head right now. Maybe I've made some mistakes in my time, but falling for you is NOT one of them and deep down in your heart, you know it too, or else you wouldn't even be here right now!"
Another long pause. For a split second, I thought I'd gone too far, and that the next message would be that Leslie had signed off and left, and that would be the end of it. Then I saw her reply.
"Do you remember what I said before, about feeling like I was on the edge of a cliff?", she said.
"Yes?", I replied, now nearly breathless with anticipation.
"Could you pull me up?"
In an instant, it was as if the two of us were in a cyberspace world of our own design, in a cyber-desert, complete with a canyon that the two of us were perilously close to the edge of. I pulled her up so that she was out of danger, and the two of us headed off in the direction of a shade tree, looking to catch our breath.
Leslie took my hand and placed it on her heart, and held it there, with a loving look in her eyes. I could see her face as surely as it was in the pictures she had sent me, and as she described the scene to me, it was becoming clear that she was as incredibly turned on as I was by everything that had happened. On the screen, her typing became much more garbled, almost as if her hands were trembling as she typed.
Leslie held me close, and turned her face upwards to meet mine. Our kisses were tentative at first, but began to grow in strength and desire as we felt an incredible need for each other deep within ourselves. Her fingers began to trace a line down my spinal column, and I could feel the shudders involuntarily coursing through my body as my shorts began to get tighter and tighter on me. Our shirts came off with ease, and were tossed aside quickly.
My hands traveled quickly to her breasts, and she arched her back and moaned with incredible pleasure. She placed me so that my back was against the shade tree, and told me to keep my arms locked around the trunk of the tree. She then went to work on my pants, undoing them and almost ripping them off in a frenzied passion. Slowly, but with great difficulty in controlling herself, she pulled my underwear off, and slowly began to stroke me, one hand on my chest, the other lightly curled around my manhood.
Leslie leaned over, without any warning, and started to bathe my cock with her tongue, lapping around the head first, then slowly curling her tongue and lightly grazing the underside of my shaft in an up-and-down motion. After a moment, she plunged her entire mouth down over the full length of me, and began bobbing her head, taking me all the way in and nearly all the way out before going back down again. I was in heaven. I mean, I knew it was only on the screen, and not real, but why could I see the scene in front of me? And why could I literally feel the sensations? I pushed those questions to the back of my mind, I didn't care at this point. All I wanted to concentrate on were the lips wrapped around my full length, and the fingers that were tickling my balls, and the love that I knew I was feeling in my heart for Leslie.
I stopped her, and turned her over onto her back so that she was looking up at the sky, with her hands in a similar position to where mine were, wrapped around the base of the shade tree. I quickly took her pants off, and began kissing my way down her body, avoiding her most sensitive areas, then took my sweet time licking my way up her thighs, higher and higher, until finally I reached my destination. I ran two fingers along the entrance to her cunt, then gently pushed them inside of her as my tongue and my lips latched on to her clit. With a free hand, I slowly began caressing her breasts and tweaking her nipples with my fingers, and her on-screen reactions quickly became those of a woman in want, in need of someone to take her, to make wild passionate love to her. Leslie, after what seemed like an eternity, stopped me, and turned over so that our bodies were pressed together. I kissed her breasts slowly, and it was clear that she loved it, but she gently moved me away from her for a moment. She locked my lips in a wonderful kiss, and wrapped her legs around me. She let loose just for an instant so that she could grasp my rigid member in her hand, and in one fluid motion, lowered herself onto me, inch by inch, until I was buried inside of her.
Leslie and I just sat there for a moment, locked in a loving embrace, savoring the feelings we were both having. Then, ever so slowly, she started to bounce up and down on me, gripping me with the walls of her sex. As she did so, she began to rotate her hips, coating every side of my manhood with her juices, and she ground her hips against my pelvis. My hips began bucking upwards as she rolled herself against me, so that I went deeper and deeper inside of her. Deep down, neither one of us knew we could last very long. Before long, I was screaming wildly, bucking my hips like there was no tomorrow, and I could almost feel my body pressed against hers, arms locked around me as she came a moment later.
I looked down and realized exactly what was going on. There wasn't anybody there. The screen was clear, but my hands were coated with my own come. It was almost as if I'd had an out of body experience, and I began to wonder if it had really happened. Then my other line rang. I quickly wiped off and answered the phone.
It was Leslie.
"Did what I think just happened happen?" I said, clearly trying to compose myself.
Leslie softly gave me her reply. "Yes, it did," she said. "More than I think you realize," she added, with a little giggle at the end.
"That seemed so real, you know," I said, very much relieved and relaxed now. "It was almost as if we were there, actually making love."
"I know," Leslie said, as I began to hear a short, tired sob at the other end of the line. "I want this so much to be true, Andy, please be for real."
"I will be," I said. "I promise you that, and I never make a promise I can't keep."
The next two weeks were a blur. As Leslie's arrival grew closer, it was becoming clear to everyone around me that something magical was happening to me. Not that anyone knew what it was, mind you; but there was no doubt that there was something that was on my mind.
My long-time friend Catherine, one of the few people who I can honestly say knows me as well as I know myself, took one look at me during the French class we were taking and instantly knew something was up.
"OK, what's her name?" she said, with a grin on her face.
"And what, pray tell, are you talking about?" I said playfully.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Gene," Catherine said, grinning even wider now. "You've been walking around for the last week or so with a look on your face like you just got the best blowjob of your life."
"None could be as good as yours, dear," I replied, winking. We had a tendency to be somewhat flirtatious; it was in both of our natures. With her, I felt safe doing that; she was already engaged to be married to her sweetheart, Mike, who also happened to be my best friend, and we both had no real interest in each other; still, it was fun to pretend.
"I'll make sure and tell Mike how impressed you are," Catherine said, winking back. "So tell me about her. What's she like? Who is it, for that matter?"
"Well, I'm not entirely sure," I said. "We haven't even met yet."
She started to answer, then paused, and looked at me like I'd just lapsed into Swedish. "Haven't met yet?" she asked. "Ooh, this is an interesting one. Oh well, I guess it wouldn't be you if it wasn't weird." She laughed. "So, when's the big meeting?"
"Tomorrow," I said. "I told her that I'll be the one standing at the end of the driveway at the dorm with a New York Times in one hand and a red rose in the other."
She laughed loudly at that. "Dear God, aren't you the hopeless romantic," Catherine said. "Listen, I've gotta run: Philosophy exam in 15 minutes. Lovey." Before she left, however, she kissed my cheek and looked closely at me.
"Gene, do me a favor OK?", she said, softly. "Don't go forgetting about Lacy. She loves you, no matter what, and I know you feel the same way about her. If nothing else, just play safe and come home safe, hmm? I don't want anything to happen to you, you know that."
I nodded. "I know, Catherine," I said. "You're a special friend to me, and I value your advice, and your friendship. I won't let anything bad happen, OK?"
We hugged and said our goodbyes, and I resumed being incredibly anxious for the next day.
It was a short night of sleep, because try as I might, I couldn't get the erotic dreams of Leslie out of my mind. It was almost as if she was an angel that guided me by day and seduced me by night. In one dream, we would be making love by a babbling brook; in another, we might be cuddling in a park; in still another, we might be engaging in one of her BDSM fantasies.
I woke up early, on what was a perfect Saturday morning. I showered and quickly picked out some clothes...she insisted that we make the meeting casual, so neither one of us would have to feel too pressured. So, I picked out a button-down shirt with the college logo over the breast pocket with nice shorts, and pretty much left it at that. I walked over to the florist that was nearby and picked up the rose and the newspaper. After all, I was going to have to keep my promises.
At about 11:00, I waited outside for her, knowing that she was still at least 20 minutes away but not wanting to spend the time cooped up in my room either. Finally, at 11:30, a red Subaru pulled up in the driveway, just as we had arranged. She stopped the car and got out; immediately I knew why she had chosen the name "Desire" for her handle. Any man who didn't desire her from the first moment was either blind or stupid, and probably both.
She wore a bright, sunny yellow shirt tucked into a pair of casual pants, with her shoulder-length reddish-brown hair draped nicely around a tanned, gorgeous face. I knew this had to be Leslie. We hugged, and immediately started catching each other up on the previous few days; an idea abruptly halted by the sounds of at least a half-dozen car horns that were blaring for Leslie to kindly get the hell out of the way. We laughed, and I presented her with both the paper and the rose as we headed to the hotel to check her in. "I swear, I've never seen so many cows in one state in my life!", she said, giggling. "I began to wonder on the way in here if you actually had any people living here."
I chuckled. "Well, I'm sure that the people, wherever they may be, are fairly nice folks," I said, just as the hotel clerk handed her the key to her room.
"You're so silly," she said. "Come on." I helped her unpack, and with some difficulty we managed to enter the room.
It wasn't exactly the Taj Mahal, but then, Leslie was on a budget, so we couldn't exactly afford the Taj Mahal, either. I set her things down, and went over and just collapsed on the bed. By this point, I actually was beginning to be a little exhausted from all the excitement I felt. We kept talking for a while, but both of us began to fidget around, trying to make small talk. We continued trying even as she joined me on the bed, and by this time I could feel myself literally starting to shake. Not in hunger for food, though I was actually in need of something to eat, but in hunger for Leslie. My fingers gently stroked her hand, which was pushing down on the bed because she was using that arm for support. At that point, we stopped worrying a whole lot about talking, and gazed deeply into each others' eyes. I think Leslie and I both knew what was going to happen next, but we almost subconsciously kept trying to steer around it.
Finally, our faces drifted closer and closer to each other, and we kissed, lightly at first, but with ever growing passion. Up to this point, we had been constantly flirting with each other, talking about what we wanted, but as we kissed each other for the first time, I realized that we had no real agenda or timetable for how far we wanted to go. I decided that the best thing to do was for the two of us to take things as slowly as we could. Leslie drew my tongue into her mouth, and her arms wrapped around my rather ample figure, slowly caressing my back. My hand came up behind her head and started stroking her hair, as we continued to kiss for what seemed like forever. As if on cue, we pulled away slowly for a moment.
"Do you know now that I'm real?" I whispered. She thought for a moment, then nodded and replied, "Yeah, you're quite real."
After a few more kisses, we went out to lunch at a nearby local restaurant. It was funny. Now that we seemed to understand where the other person was coming from, the tension that had been there just didn't seem to be there anymore. It was a truly wonderful feeling, holding the hand of a woman I knew I loved and that I knew loved me for who I was, not some image of what I was supposed to be. After lunch, I directed Leslie to a place that was a fairly good distance away. I'm not exactly a nature buff, but I do like going back to it every once in a while, and there is a state park about 15 miles from the college that I go to whenever I really start feeling sorry for myself and just want to get away from all the bad things around me. After getting lost about three times on the way there, we finally arrived.
We began hiking through what was an immense forest, which end-to-end is at least 50 acres or so. (We weren't about to hike the whole thing, mind you, but it gives an idea of how big it is.) We followed one particular trail under a rocky bridge with at least 5000 bats that had made a permanent home there. From there, we took a long, winding trail deep into the forest, and we finally came to a stop near my "secret" spot, a clearing that bordered right on a duck pond where I often stopped and just thought through my problems. By this point, Leslie and I didn't even need words to know what the other person was thinking. We kissed again, deeper and with more gusto than at our hotel room earlier, and with even more longing than I had ever really expected to feel. My right hand traveled up to her left breast, and I slowly began to rub it through her shirt. Her legs began to get very wobbly, and I supported her by placing my free hand in the small of her back, keeping her somewhat upright as I continued to caress her. Groans of intense pleasure began coming out of her mouth at that point, and clearly she was enjoying every minute of the attention I was giving her.
After a short time to let her recover, we began to retrace our steps and head back to the car. We were amazed to discover by the time we had gotten back that we'd spent a full two and a half hours in the forest. As a result, I couldn't help but whisper in Leslie's ear, "Time sure flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?" She just smiled.
We drove around in the countryside for a couple of hours before she finally decided to drop me off at my dorm while she went and got changed for dinner. "Do you want me to meet you back here in half an hour?" she asked.
"That depends," I said. "Will it be worth it?" Leslie winked, and said, "You have no idea."
Quickly, I dashed up to my room and changed into my nice clothes. It was the one suit I owned, complete with a sport coat I'd had to borrow from a friend of mine that, believe it or not, did more for the outfit than the original sport coat. I had just finished getting everything ready when I heard a car horn off in the distance. Since I know firsthand the evils of keeping a lady waiting, I dashed down the stairs and saw a goddess waiting for me at the car. It wasn't so much what she revealed as what she didn't reveal that made Leslie look so ravishing. She wore a woman's button-down shirt, open just enough at the top to make one wonder and wish, with a black, flowered vest buttoned up to just below her breasts over the shirt. All of this was tucked into a very tight set of pants, which showed just enough of the outline of her legs to make a man drool.
"So," Leslie said, striking a pose for me. "Ready?"
"For what?" I asked, with more than a hint of desire in my voice. She giggled, and we began to kiss again. As my hand reached up for her breast again, she lovingly but firmly pushed it down and said, "Andy, if you don't stop right now, we're never going to make it to dinner." As I looked into Leslie's eyes, I could see a glimpse of touchiness. But also one of pure animal lust. "I like that look," I thought to myself.
We went and dined at Starker's, one of the great places to eat that I've ever been to. We sipped champagne, talked and ate for what seemed like an eternity. (With the service, it nearly was.) After a while, we finally got out of there, and seeing that it was going to thunderstorm fairly quickly, we headed back to Leslie's hotel room. I tossed my sports coat over on one of the chairs in the room, and she tossed her vest over onto another one, and we both began to watch a soccer match that happened to be playing on the television in the room. Leslie quickly tired of that, though, and she turned to me with the most loving look in her eyes. She gently caressed my cheek, and pulled my face down to hers. We began to kiss, as we had been doing earlier. There was an eagerness in her that I had not seen up until now, even earlier that day in the park. But as we kissed, she pulled back for a moment and whispered, "I don't want to rush you, Andy."
"I know," I said. So, it seemed fairly obvious to me that she wanted to take this slowly, and with three more days in the trip, I wasn't about to take too many chances now.
Still, I wasn't about to be totally unadventurous. My lips started exploring her, kissing her neck and traveling down her chest, though avoiding her breasts for the moment. Leslie eagerly did the same, flickering her tongue all over my neck and as much of my skin as she could reach, eliciting moans and gasps from every sensitive portion on my body. She played my body like a violin, and she was a virtuoso at doing so. I slipped my shoes off quickly, and continued kissing Leslie for what seemed like hours. I wanted to see more of her, so I eased up for a moment and slowly unbuttoned her shirt. I eased it off her shoulders and tossed it off to the side. I wasn't really prepared to unhook her bra just yet, after all, I figured if we're going to take it slow, let's do exactly that. At least 30 minutes passed. Leslie began running her hands against my chest and pulled my shirttail out of my pants, and slowly unbuttoned my shirt as I'd unbuttoned hers before. Our hands were starting to explore each other more now, my arms wrapped around her caressing her back, with hers running over my chest. She rolled over so that I was on my back, and she started kissing and suckling the nipples on my chest for all that she was worth. I didn't go any further, though, because I didn't know exactly where she had drawn the line, and I didn't want to offend her at all. This, looking back, turned out to be a mistake.
All at once, after we'd been going at it for at least an hour, Leslie pulled away and almost tossed me aside. She sat up in the bed, put her shirt back on and put her head in her hands as a thunderstorm brewed all around our room. She went over and opened the door, and just stood in the doorway, staring out the window with a single tear rolling down her left cheek. "I'm sorry," Leslie said. "I knew this was a mistake as soon as I started."
"Sorry for what?" I asked, patiently.
"I didn't know that you didn't really want me," she said. "I guess I've turned you off somehow, I don't know."
"Is she nuts?" I thought to myself. At that point, I was more turned on than I'd ever been in my life; where was all of this coming from?
"I didn't know what you wanted, Leslie," I said, meekly. "I wasn't sure if you were ready for anything yet."
Leslie just glared at me. "I was ready when you kissed me, damnit!" she nearly shouted at me. "I can't believe you couldn't see that."
She paused. "Right now, I have three choices, none of them good at all," she said, closing the door. "I can send you home and lock myself in the room all night, or I can send you home and take care of this with someone else or, I can just attack you and risk hurting you a whole lot. And I don't want to do that."
She sobbed a minute, then said, "I want you, I need you so desperately. This is physically painful for me."
It all of a sudden hit me: all this time, I'd been holding myself back because I'd thought it was what Leslie wanted; when in fact she was begging me to make her scream in ecstasy. And I hadn't even known it!
"Leslie, you aren't getting this, are you?" I said. "All this time, I've been trying to hold myself back because I thought that this was what you wanted. Leslie, you don't have to attack me to have me."
At this, Leslie turned and looked to me with the most powerfully lustful look I had ever seen. She climbed back onto the bed and kissed me, deeply and lovingly on the lips. She then began fumbling with her pants, finally managing to unbutton them and pull them down slightly. She took my left hand and forced it deep down between her legs, and it immediately became clear that not only was she not wearing panties, but she was so wet that it felt like a swamp.
Leslie looked hard at me. "Andy, I don't care what you do or how you do it," she said, "but know that there is no way that I can keep on going like this!"
My eyes lit up, and I began kissing her again. Leslie kissed back with such a force that my jaw actually began to hurt. I pulled away and quickly helped her out of her pants. Immediately, she helped me get her out of her bra, and for the first time, I got to see - for real this time - every last inch of my Leslie's incredibly gorgeous figure. She had long, graceful legs that seemed to go on forever, with a small stomach and very large, full breasts that not only held their weight well, were very firm. My lips immediately latched on to one of them, suckling the nipple and rolling it with my tongue. My left hand was rolling her swollen clit between my fingers, and my right hand was tugging to get my pants off.
Leslie finally helped me out of those, and her hand immediately plunged into my boxers, almost wildly stroking my cock, trying to somehow even get it harder than it was already. Somehow, I knew the time was right.
I pulled back from her for just a moment, and whispered, "Let's make love." "Slowly, and completely?" she whispered. "Yes," I said, "slowly and completely, for however long you want to."
My boxers came off, revealing all of me to her for the first time, and Leslie quickly rolled me over onto my back, with a need on her face that I had previously only dreamed about. She covered me with kisses, driving me crazy with desire with kisses to my neck, then moving down to my chest again, milking and biting my nipples as she kissed them. Her kisses traveled lower, over my stomach, until finally, she took my throbbing member into her mouth and started sucking on it fiercely, rolling the shaft with her tongue as she did so. Her desire for that ended quickly, however. It was abundantly clear at that point exactly what Leslie wanted. I started to ask her if she thought that I should use protection; she merely silenced me by putting her finger to my lips.
"Dear heart," she said, "I don't want you even to worry about anything like protection or anything like that. All I want you and I to worry about tonight is making wonderful, magnificent love together and feeling your big, throbbing cock inside me."
She planted one last kiss on my lips and raised her hips up, grasping my cock in her hand as she did so. Then, just as in our cyber sex scenario before, she lowered herself down, slowly, gently onto me, until I was buried inside of her.
To this day, I haven't told Leslie this, but this was the first time that I had ever truly made love to anyone else. The feeling as I entered her for the first time was almost indescribable, but even better than that was the knowledge that she wanted to take me just as bad as I wanted to take her. I began to buck my hips upward into her, and she brought her body forward so that our chests were pressed together. We kissed with a wild abandon as I continued bucking my hips up into her, and she began to bounce on my manhood, taking the time whenever she could to grind her hips against me. I could hear her panting as the sweat began to coat our bodies.
Leslie knew how to make it even more erotic, too...she began whispering into my ear as we continued to make love to each other. "How do you like it, my sexy boy?", she said. "My arms hold you; my cunt holds you; I'm the one causing you to go absolutely crazy with pleasure, baby, I can tell. I can feel the juices bubbling in your cock as you're fucking me while my juices coat your cock." I tried to talk, but I found I couldn't. Leslie was in control of me...in control of my pleasure. I found that I could hardly even thrust into her after a while, because I was shaking so much from the adrenaline that was rushing through my body. It didn't even matter to her, though, as the walls of her pussy continued to squeeze me as she moved her hips up, and released as she moved them down over my cock. Soon, I felt her body starting to tense, and I started kissing her neck and rubbing her breasts with my hands.
It was too much for Leslie to take. I thrust into her as best as I could, and felt her clenching me like a vise as she started to whisper, "Oh God! Oh God!" Her shouts began to get louder and louder. "Oh God! Oh GOD! OHMYGOD!!!" as wave after wave of orgasm swept over her body. She implored me, "Take me, Andy ...now, now!" as I thrust up into her as violently as I could, pouring my cock into her womb, hoping I was hurting her for once. The wave subsided for her, but was still building for me. She refused to let me go, urging me on. "Come on, baby, I want you. I want to feel your hot come shooting out of your cock and going deep inside my warm, waiting womb!" She then flickered her tongue against the most sensitive spot on my neck, and that set me off like a time bomb.
I thrust into Leslie faster and faster, yelling uncontrollably and unintelligibly as I came violently at her urging, feeling what had to be the greatest feeling I had ever experienced, before or since. My cock was tingling like I had a short circuit of electricity running through it, and I arched my back (something I never do) as my orgasm overtook me.
This didn't satisfy Leslie. If anything, it turned her on even more. So even as I was exhausted and beginning to limp a little bit, she kept grinding against me, determined to get as much out of me as she possibly could. And, somehow, it worked as another huge orgasm, even bigger than the first, swept over her, and as our bodies continued to move in a rhythm her fingers dug into my back so hard as she came she actually left scratch marks afterwards. After a full hour of athletic sex, and finally exhausted, with the sweat pouring from our bodies, we kissed each other lightly, dryly. Leslie finally, reluctantly, got off of me and just laid there, spent for a moment. I could hardly blame her, really, considering how I certainly felt at that moment.
"I have to tell you, Leslie, that was incredible; it was magnificent," I said. "I don't think I've ever felt this close to anyone else in my entire life. Not Lacy, not anybody."
I kissed her again. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather experience all these feelings with than you," I said.
She smiled at me, and said, "I know." She then looked at me seriously.
"Listen," Leslie said. "I want you to understand that there's certain things I can't give you. I can't give you a one-and-only kind of relationship. I won't get married and I won't have kids. In short, I can't give you the happily-ever-after storybook romance that I know you want out of life.
"What I can give you is my affection, and my attention, and my support, and my undying devotion and loyalty," she said. "If you can deal with that; I think we're gonna be together for a long time."
"I couldn't ask for anything more," I said, with a tear in my eye and a smile on my face. "Just remember, no matter what happens, I'll always love you."
"I know. I'll always be here. I promise."
And we drifted off to sleep in each others' arms. One day down; a lifetime to go.
© Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.org has good sex fiction stories by Kysa Braswell not celebrity porn or another picture gallery but erotic stories from anal sex to water sports. Stories with plenty of oral sex a few spanking tales for tails and some bestiality and other interesting sexual acts with the erotic Photo directory starring fucking emily with Modern Addiction Pornography Pictures Squat Kayla Cunny