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From: Marie Durois <mdurois@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Second Time (MF, rom}
Date: Thu, 20 Apr 2000 04:10:24 -0400
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Second Time (MF, rom)
by Marie Durois
April, 2000
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my story, and I would
appreciate it if my name and my email address were
always associated with it. Obviously it has
sexual content. Any person who has problems with that
should not read further.]
***
<< PROLOGUE: The second time with a new lover is
easier.
My eyes soften at the sight of you and perception is
blurred by the warmth of renewed desire. You are no
longer strange to me, but somewhat familiar, even if
not well-known yet. The second time I welcome you into
my arms and body. While we are both still driven by
lust, it is less strange the second time. This time
we know the tastes and smells and touches of the
other. This time we know the pleasure that awaits us.
>>
******
My new lover came to my house for our second encounter
on a lovely Sunday afternoon. We had the entire
afternoon and evening reserved for our mutual
pleasures. I could hardly call it a date, could I,
when our mutual primary goal was to spend hours naked
together in bed, pleasuring each other? We had come to
know each other via other means, email and phone
calls. In the great expanse of the worldwide Internet,
it was
amazing to meet someone who lived within an hour's
drive. After so much communication, meeting in person
was just crossing over another threshhold of knowing,
to bring the physical reality into play. We were both
single, and were thrilled to have found each other. He
was older than I would have thought I would find
appealing, but both his body and mind were youthful,
and so I decided to give him a chance, to see what he
was like, to experience just how youthful and
energetic he really was. I would not be disappointed.
Today there would be no phone calls, no emails, no
computers that day, just the two of us in bed (or
wherever else we might choose to delight ourselves).
It was the sort of day that we are famous for in
Southern California. The sun was shining; the sky was
blue; the air was soft with the scent of
peach-blossoms and roses; the grass was still green
from the winter rains of a few weeks ago. Every year
on New Year's Day millions of people watch the Rose
Parade, witness this sort of heavenly environment, and
decide they want to live here. Millions of them move
here. Hillsides disappear and become covered with
houses as the edge of the metropolitan area moves
farther and farther away from the center. Eighty
degrees (F) in January is indeed appealing to those in
colder climes. It drew me here and I have never been
willing to leave.
The first meeting had been easy. Sometimes it just
flows - from email to phone to in person. He was
exactly as he had portrayed himself, older than me,
but very healthy and committed to fitness, a calm and
quiet presence, a balance between technical and
creative elements as I was. He was slim and muscular,
as he'd described himself; he looked just like his
picture. He said I was prettier than mine, which made
me smile. In the parking lot of the restaurant where
we met, his arms slid around me and I melted into his
body, as easily as if we'd known each other for years.
After lunch I followed him home and we spent our first
lovely Sunday afternoon in his house, in his bed,
discovering each other. It didn't seem so strange,
really; after all, we'd been talking and emailing for
several weeks. I knew he would be affectionate and
sensual, sexually proficient, and he was. We probably
knew more about each other through weeks of these
languid exchanges than many other couples would
discover in months of conversation. There is
something about email that seems to promote intimacy.
Only your eyes see my messages; they go directly from
my mind into yours, converted into digital format
along the way.
The second time, he journeyed to my house. He arrived
earlier than I expected he would. I was surprised to
hear him call out, "Hello?" from the front door as I
sat at the computer responding to email. I went and
opened the front door to let him in. In an instant,
his arms were around me and he was pulling at my top.
I laughed with pleasure, enjoying feeling desired by
such an ardent lover. I took him by the hand and led
him back to the bedroom where we quickly undressed.
The
patio door was open and sweet, warm air filled the
room. The blue expanse of the swimming pool filled the
scene, but neither of us saw it. What mattered was
joining and, being naked. Coupling, was the most
important thing and the first order of events on the
day's agenda; I did not disagree.
******
<< Ah, skin! The fundamental element of touch, of how
we
connect, skin on skin. This time there is time for
the luxury of lingering touch and exploration. The
second time is special because you suddenly see the
person through different eyes; the definitions of the
other person's body blur and it becomes more
beautiful. The second time I can no longer see what I
may have perceived as imperfections the first time.
The second time he is my lover and I accept him
exactly as he is, and treasure the gifts he brings me,
the gifts of his body and his attention and his touch
and his companionship. >>
******
This time I could not touch him without stroking him,
without discovering him with my slim, strong fingers.
This time he was mine and I claimed him with my touch.
I knew how much he loved to be touched, and I relished
giving him that pleasure, hearing his responses to
each feather-touch I gave him. Holding each other, I
began to stroke his back, exploring every curve and
sinew, finding the spots with fur and the spots that
were bare, gently stroking, caressing, smoothing,
barely touching. With each touch there was an intake
of breath as he savored my attentions. I told him I
had an even lighter touch, and proceeded to
demonstrate a touch almost as light as the kiss of a
butterfly's wing. He loved it. For a long time we lay
there, holding each other, naked, while my hands
gently stroked him and pleasured him. I savored the
warmth of his skin and the weight of his body on mind,
pressed close at every juncture. We were both
touch-hungry, hungry for skin.
After a long time he was satisfied by my caresses and
moved to pleasure me, stroking me with his hands and
planting kisses down my body until he reached my sex.
There he straddled me and began to suckle my clit with
his strong mouth and tongue. It was exquisite. As he
began I continued my stroking of his small,
well-sculpted butt which faced me. I discovered
through touch what he liked there, where the nerves
were, how he liked his cheeks pulled apart and the
most delicate of touches on his anus. I pleasured him
with my fingers, teasing and playing while he devoured
me. Then, as I was heating up, I increased the
intensity of my ministrations to him. Responding to my
stimulation, he ate me with even more intensity,
causing my hips to arch up under him, wanting him to
bring me over the top-yes! over the top I went! crying
"Stop! Stop!" as it happened so suddenly. He raised
his head
and smiled at me, pleased that he had pleasured me so
well. I smiled back, laughing.
Then he wanted to be inside of me, joined with me. He
crawled around to face me and entered me, pinning me
to the bed with his strong arms, kissing me deeply,
tongue probing, with fiery intensity. His cock slammed
into me, in and out, deeply, strongly, for a long
time. Sometimes he lifted my legs for variety. With
each thrust I responded, thrusting upward with my
hips, gasping or groaning as I felt him enter me..
Other times my arms were free and I reached up and
played with his cheeks again, to enhance his pleasure.
This drove him wild and he thrust into me even more
deeply. Our sweat mingled on this warm day, as we
thrashed together, joined by his cock. Finally, he
came, crying out as he plunged his cock deeply into
me. I held him for a long time afterwards. He did not
want to leave my body. I did not want him to pull out.
He laid on me, inside of me, for a long time, as we
listened to each other's breathing. I gently stroked
his back again, feeling how wet he was now from the
exertion.
Finally he pulled out, but lay close to me, stroking
me. We were in total harmony on this subject without
ever speaking about it; there could not be enough
touch, enough skin, enough stroking, enough coupling.
We talked and laughed. I don't remember what about. He
kidded that now he was supposed to fall asleep, but he
had no interest in doing so. I remember stroking him
some more, wherever I could reach, enjoying his furry
chest, enjoying the sinews of his body.
After awhile he decided that focusing on my breasts
would be a good thing, so he moved his head down and
began to suck on one of my nipples, also using his
tongue for stimulation. He was creative in his
attentions, trying different strokes and licks and
nips and squeezes until he seriously got my attention
and began to drive me crazy. At the beginning I was
stroking his butt in the way he had liked before. But
at some point suddenly he was doing it perfectly, just
right, making me very excited and so I had to stop; I
could only lie there and feel it; I could do nothing
else and my hands dropped to my sides. I loved the
feeling of being devoured with great intensity. But
tit attention alone would not
give me an orgasm, so he decided he should return to
pleasuring my clit. He moved down on me again and took
my clit in his mouth, licking and sucking it with the
perfect attention he had given me before. Again I lay
there as the crescendo of feelings arose and my hips
began to buck, finally crying out, "Stop! Stop!" as I
passed over the crest of another orgasm. I lay there,
breathing deeply for awhile, tired and satisfied.
Finally sated, we were willing to dress because we'd
become hungry, this time for food. In my kitchen he
chopped vegetables and made me a stir-fry dinner. I
reached out to hug him and kiss him frequently while
he cooked. He told silly jokes and I groaned at the
puns. For dessert, we ate chocolate, another shared
pleasure. We relaxed in the kitchen after eating; my
cats came to meet him and make friends with him. Late
that night, he finally drove home. It was a lovely
second time.
******
<<I am relaxed and tired after the day's adventures. I
see the dark circles under my eyes and my rumpled
hair; the makeup is long gone. It is another
beginning. I have had many beginnings in my life, and
many endings, leaving me free for this beginning. We
agree we want to meet again. But who knows how long we
will want to see each other?. We still have much to
learn about each other. He reminds me often, "You
hardly know me." Yet in my body, in my bed, he is not
a stranger. In the beginning it's easy and you don't
see the other person's imperfections. In the beginning
it's all pleasure. The work comes later. >>
******
THE END
[AUTHOR'S EMAIL ADDRESS: mdurois@yahoo.com
Comments are invited.]
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