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Emily awoke at seven, feeling refreshed for the first time in weeks. Her satin sheets felt smooth and warm against her nude body, and she stretched luxuriously, relishing the warm sunlight pouring through her window.
Her body felt warm and fulfilled. After her date with Greg the previous night, she’d come home and slowly coaxed herself through two stunning orgasms, one with her fingers and a second time with her vibrator. Greg’s text had set her off. She recalled with pleasure her daring experience in the women’s room at Logan’s, fingering herself to a deep orgasm while filming on her phone. At the end of the date, she subtly passed her still wet panties off to him and sent the video. When she got home, his response was waiting for her in a text. There were no words, just a long video of him, fully nude, masturbating with her underwear. She came quickly at first, overwhelmed by the lust stirred up as she watched this man milk his cock with her black silk panties, still damp with her earlier pleasure. For the second orgasm, she’d taken her time, watching the video in slow motion and timing her climax to coincide with the moment when the first thick rope of cum erupted from the swollen head of his cock into the black lace panties. Before drifting off to sleep, she sent him a kiss emoji, and then fell into a relaxing, deep rest.
She rose from bed, and stood for a moment looking herself over in the full length mirror. She liked what she saw. At 35, her body was welltoned, but also full and healthy. Her breasts, which she’d always been proud of, were larger than a handful, but still firm. In the early morning air, her large pink nipples were rock hard and stood dark and proud against her pale skin. She ran her hands from the base of her breasts, along her slight tummy, and down her thighs. Her thick hips gave her a strong, womanly figure, and a tiny wisp of light brown, almost blonde hair peeked from between her legs. She knew that she was no model, but attractive enough. She fondly remembered Greg’s first video to her, in which he’d shown himself masturbating to her fullynude but faceless selfie. The fact that he found her attractive made her feel attractive, and that in turn made her want to extend his pleasure even further.
She padded across the carpet and pulled a thin robe down from a hook on the back of her bedroom door before heading into the main room of her apartment. As she started her pot of morning coffee, her mind wandered, oscillating between anticipation of the next step in this whirlwind affair and reflection on the last several years. Her new found bravery, bordering on recklessness, was a welcome break from years of staleness with Todd and a devastating break up that had left her feeling not only betrayed, but unattractive. The last several weeks of escalating flirting with Greg, culminating in the insanity of last night’s stunt in the ladies’ room, had woken something up in her. It felt good.
She didn’t particularly want to rehash the end of an eight year relationship with Todd. Suffice it to say that it had left a hole in her that had gradually filled with an acid resentment over wasted time. She’d given up her virginity to Todd in her senior year of college and they’d moved in together shortly thereafter. She followed him across the country when he enrolled in a PhD program in literature, and then again when he got his first job. With each passing year, he became more and more enmeshed in an academic culture that she found pretentious and boring. All the while, the mixture of tender attraction and raw lust that Todd had shown her in the early days faded, until at the end they were barely roommates. And then he’d confessed an affair with a colleague at another school, and just like that, it was over.
Well, Emily thought, enough of that. Todd could have his painfully thin and angular expert in Victorian literature. She was better without him, and frankly happier.
Which brought her to Greg. She sipped her coffee at the counter that separated her tiny kitchen from the sitting room. What to do about Greg?
On the one hand, although two dates had gone well, she really knew almost nothing about him. The bullet point list of what she’d learned about about him was short: 45 years old; divorced for three years; no kids; a high school social studies teacher; born and raised in Detroit and then relocated to upstate New York after college; a casual sports fan; outdoorsy; a little artsy; a little nerdy. And that was about the extent of it. On the other hand, she found him deeply attractive and had enjoyed the type of easy conversations that made him feel like an old friend. Plus, two dates in, she’d already seen him jerk off to her twice on video, which was way ahead of the curve in comparison to the conservative timeline she’d observed with all of her previous boyfriends. And she had to admit that watching this put together and attractive guy cum for her was a huge turn on.
She slipped her hand beneath her robe, caressing her breast as her nipple stiffened. It felt electric, and she fantasized about Greg’s mouth on her breast. What would it be like to fuck him? She imagined him moving slowly, tenderly, somewhat tentatively. Would he want to eat her out? She expected he’d be good at it, based on their kisses the previous night. But she knew some guys didn’t like it Todd certainly hadn’t.
Todd again. Fuck. She wondered how long it would be before her entire frame of reference in all things ual stopped revolved around the quirks and hangups of uptight, snarky, and pretentious Todd. Too good to go down on her, too committed to doing his part to “disestablish the patriarchy” (whatever the fuck that meant) to let her go down on him, too boring to do much more than perform mechanical couplings in the missionary position, too self absorbed to show her tenderness or attention unless he wanted . Too quick, to be honest, to bring her much pleasure.
Fuck Todd, she thought. And she picked up her phone to text Greg.
*****
This is how it is going to work.
You are going to meet me this afternoon at the Japanese garden in Delaware Park. I will be wearing a skirt and no panties. We are going to walk for a bit, and when we find a secluded spot, we are going to sit in the warm grass and I am going to ask you to touch me. I am going to ask you to put your mouth on me. You will provide me pleasure until I am sated, and then we will kiss so that I can taste myself on your lips. Until I say otherwise, you will exist to give me pleasure.
PS Although you will be the one eating today, I suspect that I may be hungry afterwards. We can have lunch together if you’d like.
If you can live with this, I will see you at noon.
*****
Her heart pounded like a jackhammer as she pressed send. Like so much over the last several weeks, this was new, risky, and out of character, and it made her incredibly hot. Her pussy ached and she felt the familiar warm wetness growing. She denied the urge to calm herself by bringing herself over the edge once again. That pleasure could wait, at least a few hours. Her heart and her body wanted to capture this man and bind him to her pleasure, on her terms, at least for a while.
Her phone buzzed.
“I will see you at noon.”
She smiled and drank the last of her coffee. Time to start the day.
ero
