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It casual encounters reddit Elwood do you a lot of favours if you study her profile before writing this out email. Remember that most men truly don't read the woman's profile so by proving you have read it will cause you to stand out a little bit more.

When a woman meets a guy in real life enough for her has a few minutes so as to find out whether it's critical to spend effort and time to get him. This is indicated by the view of guy, manner of behaviour and so on.

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On Sunday I flew back to Craigslist casual encounters 2020 Clay NY, dreading the coming Monday along with the questions I would get from colleagues about my vacation. Was replaced with, " Hi, how was your holiday? " " It was shit, " I stated. " I have a mysterious abdominal infection and split up with my boyfriend. " When asked how your vacation went the traditional response is, " Great! How was yours? " But mine was not great. It was shitworse than having spent the 2weeks over Christmas at the office.

Ifyou're invited to a house for a cup of tea following restaurant, this, of course, may imply a romantic continuation by mutual consent, but it never obliges and nobody. . . Irrespective of how, when and where you get to meet people, dating may not be considered entirely safe rather than a risk- related event. However, your prudent behavior can lead to your desire to meet up with men from the world. Dating and a job is one of the askreddit online dating solutions for this issue, although Looking for a satellite isn't a lottery.

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Because guys require guidance within this domain, when free adult casual encounters Carson California these tips, I have focused on the notion of apparel. This doesn't mean you cannot look attractive wearing, say, what are casual encounters Carson CA gear or biker outfits jeans and tops and so forth. Most of the hints below will be helpful if you prefer a more look.

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The majority of couples in long distance relationships have plan or no Carson are any casual encounters women real for if they'll be. Long distance relationships were meant to be temporary. The target is to be. When there is no count down towards the day when one person goes, it is probable one of you will eventually want to throw in the towel. It's imperative to schedule regular visits whenever at all possible. No amount of phone calls, texts, emails, Skype, or visits, can cement a relationship in the exact same way as being.

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Straightforward attributes so readily lost. Hurt consumes separation or divorce outcomes and relationships. Some relationships casual encounters scam Stayton succeed where only 1partner is working towards its success, but in reality, all relationships require two to make them last.

You can have a walk! As it happens, all of a woman's sexual characteristics are on full screen and showcased when she walks. . . therefore she'll feel great about it, so will you. Walking is underrated. It allows you touch to flirt, tease, bulge, and interact in ways which you can not when you are stationary.

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This can be a tool that requires practice! I discover that, with couples, there is one individual who wishes to start into the depths of the dialogue when there is a check- in asked. This is not the point. This tool creates space to discuss it in a more suitable time, while noting that it's well worth researching afterwards. Be patient. Check it out- - it can make life somewhat more easy.

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He sat next to me personally, instead of boyfriend deletes dating apps Carson California, laying his arm across the back of the casual encounters vraigslist Carson California. I liked it, although I see that some might have discovered this a small opposing possibly. To mepersonally, it was protective. It might have been dominating. To him, his arm was just resting.

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Nadine moved to put 1foot on both sides of my head which gave me the view of her cunt as she thrust her hips and pulled it open with two spread fingers and stood. I marvelled at the view of this Carson California fuck buddy home- gum yahoo casual encounters Carson interior for a moment until Emma rocked and reached her mind forward to conduct the tip of her tongue. It had been pink and quite hard in contrast, although I could see it was large.

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Regard on your own at all times. Females constantly succumb to males who are that Carson California sexy mexican hookers inaccessible. Don't hover or cringe or act determined. Think about on your own as special and know what you should have the very best.

They'll make you look grandiose in every manner, and this may be quite appealing to most people. They prey on every sort of person, and let's face it, who doesn't love a free adult casual encounters Carson California coming from someone we have newly found interest in. The problem is the compliments are being made so the narcissist may feel like craigslist casual encounters Carson California about themselves. The narcissist will build their new spouse up in every manner. It will help purify the people's egos. The narcissist should feel exceptional, and they also understand that it will help draw.

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As women, we have a tendency to do some silly things when dating which make a man become distant and lose interest. In fact, depending on how absurd your error was, a man can decide to place you inthe'', or worse, the friends.

In hindsight this was a lesson for me personally. Sometimes most of us see what we want to see and we are unaware. It has, although I'd love to say that this did not change me. I'm still the same me, guarded with folks before I understand exactly what their motives are and feel comfortable in their presence and just a little tougher.

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You would like to treat all of your interactions with new men though they're meetings, not dates. Maintain your heart from items. Think with your head. Keep on dating and emailing other men until you believe you understand this man is legit and really a good man. At that stage, you can ask for and also have exclusivity.

I have had guys ask me about my piercings, the tunnels in my ears in particular, and if I wouldconsider'taking out them in somestage'. For mepersonally, all I hear is them Carson craigslist casual encounters work because they do not enjoy it, I don't fit into their idea of what they desire me to change. What about? Or people who ask if I could use shade? Have nails? A colour of hair? Creampie prostitutes tube craigslist casual encounters how to Carson? Fuck' em! Fuck all those guys who think they possess the casual encounters to change us. And fuck the girls who believe they possess the right to change racism online dating tumblr! It certainly goes both ways, no double standards here. I believe that you should accept someone for the way they are if you meet with them. If you don't like smokers however you start to date a smoker, then you need to accept that this is how they were when you met, you understood exactly whatyou're getting into. Trying to make them quit smoking down the track is selfish- I know exactly what it is like to have this happen and really don't like smoking as I am an ex- smoker. But if your spouse decides that they wish to change in their own accord, then you could be there to support them. Not badgering them changing any rio prostitutes of themselves just because you feel like it.

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Many people still have landlines- - something your kids ceased if they left truck stop hookers creampie using. You do not wish to use your house phone to Carson California lesbian online dating free with a man that is new. Caller ID gives out far too much info about you.

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You say" How would you have spent the entire weekend and not called for two whole days? " Is that he had been wrong. That's when he shuts Carson alan soble casual sex becomes defensive, and can not listen to you.

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In the reddit cl casual encounters Carson CA- Carson California craigslist casual encounters abbreviation century, " friends with benefits" doesn't mean married fuck buddy Carson with a swimming pool or a condo on the beach, or the person who orders a costly, delicious dessert and then pushes it to you to eat. " Friends with benefits" has something to do with sex with a person you know but do not love.

Norepinephrine Norepinephrine acts as a using craigslist casual encounters in 2020 Carson California and a stress hormone. It's released into the blood as a stress hormone when the brain gets the message which something stressful is taking place. The body then responds to the pressure by performing the following: Increasing heart rate Increasing blood circulation to the muscles Releasing glucose( sugar) into the blood Norepinephrine acts as a neurotransmitter by increasing arousal, alertness, and accelerates reaction time.

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Do all the things that you hookers in revolt ladies need to do on a regular basis. Pay attention to hair that is physical and looking in the eyebrows and waxing. I have a superb wax that I utilize for the region that is amateur match online dating for eyebrows and for the chin region. The purpose of all of this is that it is helping you to keep that femininity that you like to feel.

Take care of yourself! You can find the time to telephone me, Maybe tomorrow? Good morning from here. . . yes, I was able to download Skype here and that I attached my profile title, image and ID where you can use in searching.

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Fibs aside, lying about matters like occupation, income, casual encounters type, preferences, etc. is short- sighted, since your objective is to find somebody who enjoys YOU as you are NOW. Lying about your job title or whether you reside with your parents won't endear him if he discovers the reality. Rather than giving you it is going to violate his fantasies of you, and it'll make him wonder what else you've lied about.

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Survey Of Female Sexual Satisfaction Reveals What Women Want

Survey Of Female Sexual Satisfaction Reveals What Women Want

How can you like yours? (Credit: Shutterstock)

exactly What do females wish?

Survey Of Female Sexual Pleasure Reveals What Women Really Want.. YouвЂ™re going to need to question them. ThatвЂ™s the summary of this study that is largest to analyse the variety of feminine sexual satisfaction, posted into the Journal of Intercourse and Marital treatment. The scientists make an effort to break the ways down by which ladies find pleasure, offering partners insight on how to improve their love life.

Debby Herbenick at Indiana University along with her peers found that womenвЂ™s choices within the bedroom differ dramatically, but you will find a few items that many have a tendency to enjoy. a term of caution: this can be likely to get visual.

The research asked 1,055 heterosexual feamales in the U.S. to respond to a questionnaire that covered anything from intimate attitudes right down to their pattern that is preferred of stimulation. The individuals ranged from 18 to 94 years old.

Their answers had been exposing: a lot more than 36percent of females reported requiring clitoral stimulation to achieve orgasm, while significantly less than a fifth stated that intercourse alone ended up being adequate. One more 36% stated that clitoral stimulation ended up beingnвЂ™t necessary www.datingmentor.org/escort/des-moines, but designed for a better orgasm.

Nearly all women stated that some sexual climaxes feel a lot better than the others, whereas 10.8% reckoned each of them have the same.

When expected about their ideal techniques, two thirds chosen direct stimulation that is clitoral. 继续阅读“Survey Of Female Sexual Satisfaction Reveals What Women Want”


tagNonHumanA Sin of Lust

A Sin of Lust

He tossed and turned in his bed, desperately trying to rid his mind of the stunning images that had plagued him since that afternoon. That young woman kneeling so obediently as the altar and crossing herself with an innocence belied by her attire... her presence had called him from the rectory as certainly as the loyal bells ever had. Even a young priest such as himself had been attracted to her sweet looks and tempting manner. Her beauty was stunning to him, so much so that he had nearly forgotten to answer her when she approached him with a question.

Would he hear her confession?

Although it was highly unorthodox for a priest to know which parishioner's confession he was hearing, and vice versa... he had not denied her. He had simply led her to the confessional, ignoring the questioning look of the archbishop. The things she had told him!

Under any other circumstances he would've been shocked by her confessions, yes... but not so... tempted. She couldn't have been more than eighteen, and yet she had done things with men that he had never even imagined in his deepest thoughts. She had attended some party and been fucked all ways; a cock in her mouth, another in her dripping pussy, another shoved deep into her ass. She had accepted a payment of a thousand dollars to suck the cocks of some college sports team while tied against their lockers with jock straps. She'd even seduced a professor at her school into giving her a passing grade in return for unlimited sex in his office; bending over his desk, on top of the Xerox machine, pushed up against the file cabinet.

Against his will, his own sex had lengthened and hardened in response to her frank and erotic declaration. Under his black cassock, he throbbed and swelled despite the desperate prayers he ran through his head. When he had finally managed to give her absolution and penance, he had not been able to resist peeking out the door of the confessional to watch her walk away, her ass swaying seductively with promise.

He had fled the church, all but running back to the rectory and the safety of his plain rooms. He had stayed there; skipping dinner... he could not face his fellow priests or the chaste nuns he had grown to call his family. He had claimed illness when one knocked to check on him, although the infirmity was in his soul and not his body.

Now it was well past midnight... almost three in the morning by his figuring and he was still wide awake... his cock still pulsating with every frantic beat of his heart. His blood fairly boiled with a lust he had never known and knew even less how to fight.

He had lit a candle earlier; having learned that it's soft light suited him better than either total darkness or blinding of electric lights. As he heard the bells of the church strike three, the candle turned dark, as though an unseen hand had snuffed it out. But there were no open windows in his room, no drafts... it was the middle of summer and yet suddenly his room turned icy cold. A chill ran down his spine as a feeling of dread passed over him.

Something wicked this way comes...

He glanced towards his window, a movement attracting him out of the corner of his eye... and what he saw nearly made his heart stop dead in his chest. Two eyes staring back at him, burning in the darkness. He could almost feel the blood draining from his face as it seemed to come closer and he felt his bed shift under the weight of another.

"Poor priest... so lonely..." a voice hissed in his ear, one that he recognized easily... the one that had echoed in his head all night.

"You!" he started, trying to rise from the bed but finding that he was held down by invisible bonds.

The woman looked at him, still dressed in the skin tight black that she had worn earlier in the confessional. While she remained beautiful, there was something undeniably sinister and inhuman about her now... her eyes a little too bright, her smile a little too knowing...

"Did you not call to me, priest? Did you not call out for me in your fevered imagination as you plundered my body?" she asked with an evil smile.

He gasped. "How? How could you know? What are you?"

She leaned down and breathed in his ear, making him shiver with both pleasure and dread. "I am what you want and fear. A demon devoted to the basest sin you can think of... that of sexual lust."

"In the name of the Lord, what do you want with me?" he demanded, summoning all the courage he had left.

Those unearthly eyes met his again. "You... priest." She reached down and flung the sheets from his body, exposing his naked chest to the cold air... and the large bulge within his underwear to her eager gaze.

"Stop." He gritted out between his teeth as her hand traced over his chest and stomach, coming dangerously close to his aching cock.

"You have no power over me, priest... I will do with you what I please." She growled at him slightly, her hand deliberately rubbing over his sex through the thin cloth, making him cry out involuntarily.

"What are you going to do with me?" he asked, unable to keep the fear from his voice any longer. She smiled that disturbing smile again and leaned close, whispering in his ear with a sultry voice. "I want your blood to heat for me... I want this hard cock of yours to swell and throb and grow larger than it's ever been... I want your balls to boil with cum... I want you to struggle at these bonds and fight me. I will tease you with my breasts and steaming sex... bring you to the edge over and over, but not let you find release until I'm ready."

Even to that punishing declaration, he could not help but respond, groaning deep in his throat and pushing himself against her. She smiled at this, pleased at his brief moment of pliancy and leaned down to kiss him, thrusting past his resisting lips easily with her tongue. Before he could even realize her intent, his underwear was thrown to the floor and her clothes seemed to have melted away into some mysterious abyss. Her naked skin rubbed enticingly against his, making him acutely aware of how seldom he had been touched. Although the old Catholic assertions against masturbation had relaxed to acceptable levels, he still didn't engage in it regularly... now his long-restrained lust had been awakened and tormented until it had grown to uncontrollable levels.

Her breasts were softer than any silk he could imagine and he could only feel as she rubbed them against him and his erection pulsed hotly. Her teeth were at his neck and her nails scratched over his chest, raising thin welts in their wake. She slid down his body, her breasts and hair trailing over him in a sweeping caress that made him arch like a cat.

At the first touch of her hand against his aching cock, he surged forward in a panic, startled by the hot rush of fluid that trickled out of the tip. The invisible bonds held him down, but he fought regardless.

"No!" he breathed in a pleading voice, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh ,my poor priest..." she purred, her breath caressing his cock in the faintest of touches. "So hot and hard for a demon... so tempted... so eager for sin..."

"Stop... please... don't..." he entreated her, his voice almost tearful.

"Don't what?" she asked in a deceptively innocent voice, he could almost picture her batting her dark eyelashes at him. "You don't want me to suck on this huge cock of yours? You don't want my hot, wet pussy around you? You don't want to fill me with so much cum that it seeps out onto your sheets?"

He groaned, a sound that was tinged with a moan. "Yes... I do."

"Good priest... sink into this sin... enjoy it." She crooned before closing her lips over the engorged head of his hurting cock. He strained against his bonds, trying to control the bucking of his hips and not succeeding very well. Her mouth was hotter than the fires of Hell and caressed his length like the inside of a volcano... if he hadn't known better, he would've expected there to be burns before long.

A soft hand cupped his balls and he could feel the cum surging inside them, yearning to explode into her mouth. Her hand closed slightly, her fingers moving in a wave motion so that his balls shifted within her grasp and grew heavy. Her mouth continued to work on his cock, her lips strong around him and her tongue sweeping up and down within the wet cavern. Every so often her sharp teeth would graze over the sensitive skin in the faintest of bites, making him cry out, although whether with pain or pleasure he could not tell in the slightest.

When she sat up he nearly cried in supplication, struggling to free his arms, to bring that torrid mouth back down to him. She tilted her head at him with a calculating expression and then leaned down, placing his cock between her soft breasts and rubbing, slowly sliding her body up his until she was straddling him. Unbidden, he looked down, hungry for the sight that met his eyes. Her pussy was hairless and every pink fold was exposed to his gaze through the darkness. Moisture glistened on each tender lips of skin and dripped slowly to her thighs, the sheer heat of her seared his screaming cock as it jerked in anticipation. She moved and lowered her hips, running her juicy wet lips over the head of his cock, giving him only a taste of what he desperately needed.

He couldn't stop a strained moan. "Please..."

"Are you begging me, priest? Are you imploring to shove your dick inside a demon's cunt? You want to spill that holy seed of yours into the vessel of Satan?" she taunted, now squeezing the base of his cock with one hand and still sliding the head over her sopping pussy.

"Yes!" he screamed, bucking up suddenly and managing to push the head of his cock between those tempting, wet nether lips for only a second.

"And who do you belong to, priest? Who is your master?" she demanded, her hand grabbing at his hair and forcing him to stare into her alien eyes.

"You." He panted, frantic for release no matter what its form. "None but you... my demon lover."

She smiled, revealing canine far too sharp and before that fact even registered, she thrust down, taking his cock fully inside of her in one plunge. He shouted out at the feel... she was so wet and tight, gripping him with her insides like a soft vice as she rose and fell around him. His untrained body surged and bucked under her, his hips thrusting upwards to shove himself deeper inside of her. Her juices seeped out, coating his cock and dripping onto his aching balls. She tightened around him, milking at his cock with her body. She threw her head back and moaned, baring her teeth in a growl as her pussy pumped around him vigorously, sending him over the edge.

He came in a burst, sending his seed deep within her throbbing pussy and screaming like a soul ripped from its earthly shell. He thought his cock would explode with cum, that her belly would start to swell with it.

He collapsed afterwards, panting for breath like a marathon runner as his demon lover stroked the hair at his temple and smiled with fang-like teeth. She breathed in his ear, baptizing him with her lips and tongue.

"Ooh... my good priest... you will make an excellent slave." She purred in his ear.

"What would you have me do?" he asked sleepily.

"You will continue to be a priest... but in secret, you will be mine... and you will seduce others as I have seduced you... girls in the congregation... fellow chastity sufferers..." she told him.

Right before he fell asleep, alone in his bed to human eyes, his cock stirred eagerly as he found the image of himself bent over a young novice nun... on the altar. His cock pumping into her...

Ah... the sin of lust...

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’ She said proudly. He set her straight. ‘That’s less than a day’s water for the slaves.’ Her looked at her sternly. ‘We have to find a f...esh water source at first light.’ ‘Yes Sir.’ She looked down at her feet on top of the wool blanket she had laid down to keep them off the sand. Her knees at her chest and her right hand clutching the ‘Pokey stick’ as she called it, stoking the fire. In a wave of emotion, Steven realized he was still alive, and yes they would find a way to survive. He. "Anyone home?"Alan whispered, "Impressive. Aunt Suzy, you know us all so well, it's kind of scary."Susan walked straight down the hall to the kitchen, carrying three very heavy shopping bags. Her face brightened when she saw Alan and Suzanne standing there. But she also got a bit abashed as she looked at Alan a second time. She obviously was reminded about what happened on the tennis court.Suzanne recognized the names of the stores on the bags, and said, "Oooh! Clothes! What'd you buy? What'd. But would you come in, with me?" Yes."The house was locked, and when I broke a window to get inside, the awful odor of decaying flesh met us before we had even gotten inside. "Wait here," I told her. I climbed through a window off the house's small front porch and moved to open the front door. The pent-up odor in the closed house was truly terrible."Please wait outside," I told Bridgett. Let me look around. If I find anyone -- any young man -- I'll come for you."Even outside, on the porch, she. My real, human girlfriend was not amused, but this creature found my yearnings and exploited them ruthlessly. I felt a thrill run through me at the memory, and the promise of fantasy realized.She shuddered and gasped, while flooding the room with an apple-pie scent of success. I knew instinctively that this alien was feeding from my pleasure and growing more energized. I would not resist. Or would I? With no control over myself, my movements, or my own body, I found myself almost craving.
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The other day, my mom and I were having a conversation about why I don't smoke marijuana. I said it was because I discovered it can bring on Schizophrenia if it due to our background- - and runs in your household, it was not a risk.

If usingthis'type of abilities and tips' were the keys to creating a woman fall in love with a guy, then most men will be good with girls in no time because all it takes is just( go on line or probably purchase your business's novels) , learn some relationship abilities, and techniques, then all of their relationship issues will be over.

It can be a little disheartening when you meet girls and a connection isn't there. Sometimes you want to give up. Maybe move to another country whereyou're different and in demand. My father used to tell me I should travel abroad. It is different in other areas. Americans are spoiled. You can find Vendee Québec deals where you visit a charles boustany prostitutes along with the ratio is similar to twenty girls to every guy. You then find one or two women which you truly like, attend a couple of mixers, stay in town for around a week. You have to know them throughout the week and then you initiate the process. If I recall correctly, you have to apply for the visa which can take about six months after which you've got six months. After three years, she can divorce you and still remain in the U. S. . If you become divorced, you can go back and start the procedure over again. Maybe backpage escorts go to a country that is different and mix it up. Variety is the spice of life.

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A problem begins to take place when getting into the swing of dating however. We see a lot of men night and day chumming around with dogs that are toothless. These all- aloneslobs decided to venture out and date dogs. Notwithstanding one may be a gem to another.

This criterion is the most significant of the bunch. Your options are already restricted, if you reside in a small town with only a few hundred active girls to select from; once you get started narrowing search parameters, then they become.

One was that she was fine with posting younger pictures of herself. Obviously, the majority of us look better that we do now, but that is NOT the person because it would be dishonest that we should present to a potential partner.

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Value isn't taken by guys out of a girl. Attractive guys offer value. The mind- set of a attractive guy is" I am having fun. You may join in and make it more enjoyable but should you opt to not join, I shall still be having fun" .

What is more attractive to some sexy girl in a nightclub? The man who is and is slurring his words completely uncouth, or the fun, sociable and can pull the trigger and still leave her wanting more.

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Okay, so what does this really mean, and what does it have to do with mood law? Basically, what takes polish dating apps in your mind, which means that what you think about is the major contributing element in the way that your hormones operate starts the whole procedure. Not only do your ideas become your truth, they control your mood. You have the capability to completely change your state! You can improve your happiness and feel of well- being by being consistent with adding a couple of simple behaviours to your routine. Let's take a peek at some of the chemicals that lead to your feelings of happiness.

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Meanwhile, she could very well get into a relationship with a fewstereotypical'man' and make him wait for sex and never really be all that into it with him. He is a good provider and treats her well. Thus, she and he will date.

To show her thatyou're listening, repeat a phrase she explained or a word she said every now and then. It builds rapport very fast. By way of instance, if she's telling you a story about her dad who cut his finger with a chainsaw you'll be able to say" He cut his finger with a chainsaw? Wow! " In a manner that is surprised.

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Meeting Christine felt like it was all about tennis
The story of how I met Christine still amazes me. Who knew the adventure I’d embark upon when the phone rang that Sunday afternoon?

“Is that Mark?” The voice was female, mid-twenties I guessed, but all business.

“It is.” I kept up the business-like nature of the call. “How can I help you?”

“You’re in my league at the tennis club. Would you like to play this week? I’m Christine, by the way.”

Under my breath I cursed my buddy Chad for getting me involved in the league. Not only was it his goofy idea, but at the last minute he pulled out and left me to deal with all the whackos who called trying to arrange pointless, or so I felt, tennis matches.

I tried quickly to think of a reason not to play Christine, but in the end I lamely accepted. We agreed on a Thursday evening match and I put the phone down cursing.

Of course, the obvious thoughts of Christine being a delicious creature who would be insanely tempted by my limited charms ran through my head, but reality kept me from getting too far into the relationship before we’d met. It wasn’t often the girl I met matched the promise of the voice on the phone—approximately never.

So… I turned up at the tennis club Thursday, straight from work and still thinking about the crap I’d left on my desk. I asked the girl on reception if she knew Christine but she didn’t, adding vaguely that she thought she might be a new member. I went off, got changed and went out to the court she’d booked.

Christine was sitting in a chair next to the net when I got there. She stood up and offered me her hand as I approached. “Nice to meet you.” she smiled.

Whilst she wasn’t about to be mistaken for Anna Kournikova, Christine had a pretty face, cute, short blonde hair and a nice figure. Her breasts were restrained by a sports bra but presented themselves nicely to my eyes as they formed pleasant curves on her white, body-hugging top. She wore white shorts, low-mileage tennis shoes and stood about 5’ 6”.

After a few pleasantries we warmed up with some gentle shots, she elected to serve and hit the fastest tennis ball I’d ever seen straight at me. Any thoughts I had about an easy match against a girl disappeared right there.

I’m no slouch with a tennis racquet but Christine was everything I could handle, and a bit more. I chased hard in the first set and only lost 6-4 but in the second I ran out of stamina quickly and plunged 6-2. Something about her matter-of-fact demeanor kept me from being ashamed at losing to a female, but I wasn’t proud of the fact, nor was I looking for a rematch anytime soon.

“That was fun.” She was barely out of breath.

“Yeah.” I tried to hide some of my panting. “You’ve played a bit then?”

“I used to play a fair bit.” She wiped her face with a towel and looked down at me while I tried to stem the flow of sweat from my brow. “I was state junior champion three times before college. I’ve just started to play a little again. It was nice to play against someone who can also play.”

Her last statement stunned me—that I was a worthy opponent!

“Well, anytime you’d like to play…” I offered, more out of courtesy than anything else.

“I’ve gotta run. I’ll call you.” she assured me, gathered up her things and headed off.

I didn’t think she would call, and I certainly wasn’t going to call her. She’d shown no interest in me other than a serve and volley game, and I wasn’t interested in another thrashing. It was no surprise that she didn’t call the following week, or the one after, but it was also strangely unsurprising when she called the week after that.

“Would you like to play again?” Her approach was again very formal.

Against my better judgment, I agreed. More than that, I offered to book the court… and started to think there was something wrong with me.

“Well, if you don’t mind coming out here, my parents have a court, and it’s supposed to be nice this weekend.”

We agreed on Sunday, I took down the address and noted that there weren’t many real estate bargains where her parents lived.

I imagined a long driveway, impeccable garden, nice new court, lemonade and maybe her parents looking on as their daughter whipped her male opponent’s ass. I was close enough to the mark.

The lemonade was Gatorade, the garden was huge and the house spectacular. Christine welcomed me at the front door and immediately walked me through to the rear garden, and the court. It was in perfect condition, surrounded by a 12ft fence and had a small refrigerator by the umpire’s chair, where the Gatorade was kept.

Today Christine was wearing black shorts and a pink top. Her hair was swept back with a band and she seemed more relaxed in her parents’ garden. She explained they were out of town and assured me there was no hurry to start as I fished in my bag for shoes.

I tried hard, but tanked again as she ran me all over the court, chasing shots that were too well-placed for me to reach. This time it was 6-3, 6-3 and I was more exhausted than our first match.

As we sat in seats next to the refrigerator Christine told me again that she enjoyed playing with me, and showed no sign that it was really beating me that she enjoyed. Her demeanor was hardly “warm”, but I had at least started to enjoy being around her.

“I’m not good enough for you.” I laughed.

“Not true.” she dismissed. “I have to play really well to keep up with you. A couple of points going the other way and the result would be different.”

“You don’t need to be kind. I’m not ashamed of being beaten by a girl. You’re better than any guy I’ve played against in may years.”

“I like playing with men better.” She softened to a muse. “Nothing to do with beating them because they’re men, but I like how men try harder, because I’m a girl, if that makes sense.”

“Kind of.” I thought I followed the logic.

Initially we talked about her tennis past but her enthusiasm rose when she started to talk about her art studies and work. I saw her demeanor brighten for the first time. Her face became animated and her hands moved passionately as she talked about her painting and sculpture. Despite having little interest and no discernable knowledge of art, I enjoyed listening to her.

“I’d like to see some of your work.” I admitted, stretching my legs that had become tight after their exertions and now sitting.

Christine’s eyes lit up, and her hand gently grabbed my forearm. “Really? My studio is just over there.” She pointed to the detached triple garage that appeared to have a large workshop extension. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll show you around?”

She took me back to the house, showed me to a bathroom and loaded my arms with the biggest towel I’d ever seen. While I luxuriated in the soothing hot water she had a shower somewhere else in the house and was making sandwiches in the kitchen when I found her.

She’d changed into blue jeans and a lime green T-shirt. Her hair was still damp and as I looked over her shoulder at the food I caught the sweet aroma of her shampoo—something coconut. It was the first time I felt a desire for Christine, and I looked at her round butt cheeks with a new interest as she joked with me about not wanting tomato on my sandwich.

The difference was she’d relaxed. So far she’d been all tennis, but now that we were away from the court she’d come around and I was enjoying her company. As I checked out the new shine in her eyes, the gorgeous curve of her hips and her newly unrestrained chest, I began to wonder if…

“Are your folks out of town?” I might as well know what the logistics were… just in case.

“They’re somewhere in the Carolinas .” She screwed up her nose at the thought. I thought her nose looked sexy. “Dad has a boat down there. I hate sailing, so I’ve never been.”

When we were through with the food Christine stood up. “Ready to see my work?”

The daylight was starting to fade as we walked across the lawn to the door of her studio. The interior space was larger than I imagined, about twenty feet by thirty. Hanging on the walls were oil paintings in various stages of development. There were several easels with more paintings on, a few in-progress clay sculptures on the workbenches and art paraphernalia everywhere. There was a sofa, a sink and a coffee maker. Her paintings were landscapes, mostly summer scenes with isolated figures somewhere in them—a girl in a wheat field, a man in a park… The sculptures were more abstract, bold geometric shapes and barely recognizable animals. One sculpture was a hollowed-out TV with a screaming face in it. There was a large dust sheet covering one work, along the back wall.

I walked around and looked at her work while she followed me and offered a few nervous comments. I didn’t say much, not knowing whether it was any good or not, but her paintings appealed to my eye.

“I like them.” I nodded, continuing to browse. “What do you like to do most, painting or sculpture?”

“Thanks.” she said demurely and then paused to think about the question. “I like them both. Painting pays the bills but sculpture allows me to be more expressive. It’s harder to sell though.”
I laughed. “I thought artists didn’t care about commercial gain.”

Christine smiled playfully and knocked my arm with her shoulder. “Maybe a hundred years ago. These days we have cell phones, computers, and mortgages to pay.” She caught my curious look. “I only work here. I have an apartment. My folks let me use this place. Sometimes I think it’s so they can keep an eye on me.”

My mind immediately wondered why they would want to keep an eye on her, but that same eye was now looking at Christine with every opportunity. There was no doubting that now I’d been with her a while, I liked this girl.

There was nothing controversial, offensive or edgy about any of the work on display—nothing to give me any clue what was about to happen.

I was drawn to the item under the dust sheet. Don’t ask me why, I was just interested to see it. Maybe it was my natural curiosity. It was the largest thing in the studio and the only thing covered. I walked up to the bench it was on, looked at it and then looked over to Christine.

She made a screwed-up face at me that looked reluctant, uncomfortable and playful at the same time. “You might not want to look under there.” she said simply.

I felt myself smile back, mischievously. “I might.”

She tried an outright distraction, walking away and telling me that a painting at the other side of the studio was the one she was going to work on the following day. I wasn’t buying that. I was still curious and now wanted to play. I stood by the covered object and waited for her attention to come back to me.

“Look.” she said reluctantly and slowly walked back to me. The tension in the moment was now almost tangible. “That’s a work-in-progress, and I don’t know that I’m ready to share it…”

“Why not?” My question was deliberately short. I was enjoying her mild panic.

“I’d rather not.”

“You make it sound like you’ve got a dismembered body under there.” I reached for the corner of the sheet. “Maybe your parents aren’t on a boat after all…”

“No, don’t, please.” she looked at me, to the dust cover and back to me. “It’s… it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Now I was hooked. I smiled wryly and nodded. I wondered what could be so embarrassing to an artist, checked the outline of the sheet again and looked back at the squirming Christine. Much as my curiosity was jumping now, I didn’t want to force her anywhere too uncomfortable.

“Okay. No problem.” I dropped the corner of the sheet. “You’ll have to ask me back though, when you’re ready to share.”

Christine nodded and continued to look at me, obviously weighing up the situation. “Look… if I show it to you… you won’t judge me or anything. It’s art, it’s… well, it’s… just art. Okay?”

I nodded and stood aside so she could unveil.

She slowly and carefully pulled away the dust sheet and revealed her work-in-progress. Before it came into sight, I could have stood there all year and not guessed what it was.

The base was a 3’ by 6’ sheet to timber, painted with a grid of dark city streets, a blue river and a park. Sprouting up from the cityscape were buildings of differing heights and shapes—every one of them represented by a plaster cast of an erect penis. There were at least 40 penises over the board, all different, grouped as high rises, and there was space for plenty more.

I swallowed, took in the sight and wondered what to say. “It’s… well, it’s nice.” I giggled nervously, understanding now why she might be embarrassed. I’d read of some groupies from the 60’s taking similar casts, but this was the first time I’d seen anything like the artwork before me.

Christine gulped, smiled awkwardly and waved her hand at the place I’d already mentally named “ Cock City ”. “It represents male domination of the city. It’s a commission from a Woman’s Rights group downtown. I submitted the idea to them and they liked it. This is the first mock-up. When it’s done it’ll all be cast in bronze.”

I liked the idea, and could see that it would work for the theme she described. I wondered where it would be displayed, but didn’t dwell on that thought too long. Another question had started tugging at me.

“Can I ask…” I began with an unsure tone, “how did you get all the casts?”

Christine drew in her breath like she was working up to an awkward answer. “I used models. I advertised in the newspaper for male nude models.”

My Sunday evening had taken a very interesting turn. “You put out an add asking for guys to come and let you make casts of their…”

“Penises. Yes.” Christine giggled for the first time in a while, the tension leaving her again now her secret was out.

She explained the process, describing how she made a mold with a silicone-based quick-setting material, made plaster “positive” casts from those molds. After the casts were dry she could then use them to make a final mold with casting sand for the final bronze versions. It would take her many more weeks to complete the work.

“And you’ll need a few more models.” I laughed. That part of the process intrigued me—technically, at least.

“I’m sure I will.” She hesitated over continuing, but stumbled over a few more words. “If I get stuck, maybe I’ll call you…”

I shrugged, trying to portray indifference, but probably failing badly. The air in the studio was suddenly sparking. “You should, if you need me. I’d be interested to see how the process works.”

It was one of those moments when anything could happen and you didn’t know what you actually wanted to happen. My heart rate was accelerating and adrenaline was beginning to flow into my blood. I studied Christine’s face for any sign that we’d overstepped a mark I knew nothing about. I’m not sure she knew if there was a mark either.

Her eyes met mine. “You want to do it?”

“Sure.” My bravado answered while I was busy trying to work out if this might lead to anything.

Christine started to work slowly, but gained purpose as reality came back to us. She pulled a few things out of a drawer and put an electric kettle on to boil, explaining that she had to mix the silicone gel. I stood around, wondering what I should do and what was going to happen. The anticipation was now crackling through me and my mind flitted around the questions of how this worked.

She asked if I wanted to back out and when I shook my head she took a deep breath and moved over to the sofa. She spread a large towel over the seat and indicated that I should sit down. The kettle was boiling by then and she poured hot water over the pellets she’d measured into a mixing jug. I sat and kicked off my tennis shoes—figuring for sure I wasn’t going to need those.

“We’ve got a couple of minutes.” she announced, obviously breathing deeply. “When you’re ready I’ll add some cold water and the gel will set in a few seconds. You want to lie down?”

I lay back on the sofa, still fully clothed, and waited for my next instruction. Christine didn’t wait though and quickly began to undo my belt. “I’ll, uh… get you ready.” she said, without looking up from her work.

When she’d pulled the snap apart and unzipped me I eased my hips off the sofa so she could pull them off. While not fully erect, the situation had been charged enough that I was most of the way there. Christine nodded at the sight of my bulging briefs. “Looks like you’ll be ready alright.” She eased my briefs down, paused to look at my cock and pulled the briefs down my legs.

Before I had much time to think about what would happen next, or worry whether I could maintain my hard-on under such scrutiny, Christine reached out, pulled back my foreskin and started to massage my cock. Her petite hands felt warm and firm against my growing member. “Uncircumcised—that’ll be nice on the piece.” I exhaled as she made a single stroke form the base to the head and leaned my head against the arm of the sofa. I smiled, thinking to myself that contributing to the arts never felt so good.

Christine brought her other hand up to cup my balls as she stroked me and squeezed my length with her fingers. Within a few seconds there was no doubting that I was hard and throbbing. This didn’t stop Christine putting in some extra strokes, and I wasn’t about to tell her to stop. I briefly wondered if this was how she paid her models for their… time, but it was difficult to concentrate on anything but the pleasure she was inducing.

“You feel like you’re ready?” she asked, twisting to smile at me, still working my cock. “To make the mold?” she added, like I might be ready for something else.

I had to clear my throat. “Yes. Sure.”

“Keep it up for me.” She grinned and stood quickly away.

I gave myself a few self-conscious strokes while she stirred the gel in the jug and then poured in some cold water. When she’d tested the temperature with her finger Christine lifted a polythene bag and started to fill it with the gel. She poured until it was about three-quarters full and then held it up to her face. It looked like a condom for a horse. “You ready?”

Walking back to me she explained that when she slipped the bag over me it would set in about thirty seconds. As my erection faded she would take it off, and we would have our mold. When she kneeled in front of me she retook control of my cock, apparently ensuring it was still fully inflated. “Thank you for this.” she said softly.

She was thanking me? Art rocks!

“Try and push it vertical.” she instructed as she brought the gel bag closer.

I pushed the base so I was standing as vertically as possible and Christine swiftly pulled the bag over me.

The gel felt warm, a little slimy and not too far from a “loose” pussy as I slipped in and she worked it to form tightly around me. I felt the pressure of her squeezing and a cooling sensation as the gel started to set. Christine didn’t look away from her work as she continued to ensure that all of my length had good coverage. “Nearly there.” she advised after a few seconds.

When she stopped working the gel her hand supported the bag and she turned to face me. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Her grin was all mischief again.

“No,” I agreed, exhaling, “It was quite pleasurable actually.”

“Time to think about your mother.” Christine quipped, looking away from me and starting to shake the mold from side to side. “Or whatever else you need to think about to get this off.”

After a few seconds of wondering if she would break my cock off at the root with her movements, the gel started to loosen around me and I slipped out—slapping onto my belly as she pulled the mold away. I looked down and ascertained that no damage had been done.

“It looks good.” She nodded and then she stood up and started to strip away the plastic bag. “I’ll be able to make a plaster cast in a few minutes, if you’d like to see it?”

I said I’d like that, and wondered if I was supposed to pull my pants up again. I’d done my bit for art and much as I was ready for some relief after the strain of my “modeling”, there had been no definite indication that was on offer. I sat up, found my underwear and slowly started to pull them on.
By now I’d forgotten that Christine was a demure tennis player who’d been all-business as she thrashed me and became driven by getting her naked and finding out how much further my opinion of her might change. Once I’d pulled my jeans on I hovered over her as she mixed some plaster.

She washed the mould in soapy water, saying the soap helped the plaster release when it was set, and set it aside while she gave the plaster a final stir. Christine carefully poured the white liquid into the gel mold, filling it up and propping it up between some empty paint cans. “There,” she said brightly, “half-an-hour and it’ll be ready. You want coffee? Can I get to a drink?”

We settled on beer and Christine produced two from a refrigerator. Our conversation was somewhat stilted and punctuated by my occasional anxious glances at the mold. That was where my inspiration came from.

“Have you ever cast yourself?” I asked in the most matter-of-fact tone I could muster.

Christine didn’t get my question for a few seconds, then her eyes widened. “You mean…”

I nodded. “I just wondered. You know, maybe you were curious, or you did some tests with the gel or something.”

That was the moment I knew. There was a tiny twitch in her eye and the edges of her mouth formed an excited smile. “You mean…”

“Yes.” I gained confidence, and assumed the answer was “no”. “I know it’s not quite the same, but you should try it.”

She could have muttered something and moved away. She could have dismissed my suggestion as a joke. I was prepared for either outcome, but the reaction I got was better than any I could have imagined. Christine put her beer on the workbench, grabbed a bag of gel pellets and started to prepare a new batch.

“I’d never thought of it.” She looked me squarely in the eye. “But now you mention it… I really should try it. I hope you don’t mind helping.”

The atmosphere had changed again, from the gentle erotic undercurrent of the aftermath of my casting, the pulse of the moment was racing again. I watched as she vigorously stirred the jar and explained that she would use a larger bag and I could press the opening over her, forming the mold. The gel would be solid enough that it wouldn’t simply run off her if she got the temperature and consistency right.

“Ready?” She handed me a bag and the jug of gel, picked up a glass of cold water and started to move to the sofa.

Despite the anticipation, I was thinking about the task at hand and doing a good job but as Christine sat on the sofa and started to pull off her jeans I was looking nowhere else. Her tanned and muscular legs were familiar from the tennis court, but the small white panties were all new. I unconsciously nodded approval and looked up to see Christine grinning at me. She had no hesitation in hooking her fingers into the elastic and pulling them away from her hips.

Christine’s pussy was compact, tightly trimmed and she let her legs open easily to allow my eyes full access. I swear the room started to smell of her sex the moment she pulled those panties off, and that was a good thing.

She let me look at her for a while and when she mentioned I should mix and cool the gel, I was sure it was for practical reasons, not because she wanted me to stop looking. I poured cold water into the jug as instructed, stirred and poured into the plastic bag. She told me to work it with my hands until it started to stiffen, then to work the gel towards the opening of the bag. When I had the gel in position, she opened her legs some more and invited me to place it over her pussy.

When she moaned I looked up and saw her eyes were closed. I pressed the gel tightly around her and applied pressure to make sure the gel mapped her contours.

Christine sighed. “Wow, that felt quite nice.” she giggled.

“That was hot!” I exclaimed, almost forgetting that this was art.

“You should be good to take it off now.” she advised.

I pulled the mold away, looking at her pussy rather than the gel. When I did check the mold it was a nicely formed “negative pussy”. “Looks like we got it.” I told her.

I stood up and placed the mold on the workbench, then looked back, checking that she hadn’t moved. “Let me get you something to wipe off with.”

I took a hand towel from near the sink and let some warm water flow over one corner. Then I went back to the sofa, knelt beside her and started to gently rub her with the towel. As soon as I started to stroke her she sighed and sank into the sofa.

“That looks pretty good.” I observed when I lifted the towel away. “Let me see.” I let my bare fingers explore her gently.

My fingertips drew slowly up the line of her smooth slit, coaxing her to open wider and let her pussy lips push out. Her skin felt delicate and warm, her pussy looked awesome.

“Feels pretty clean.” I observed.

“Feels pretty good.” Her voice was breathy, close to panting. My finger moved to her pussy lips, running up between them and feeling a hint of moisture. “Oh my.” she gasped. I didn’t need more encouragement and worked my fingers up and down her opening. Slowly I worked my middle finger inside her pussy lips and began coating it with her juices. Christine sighed again as my finger slipped further inside with each gentle stroke.

By the time my finger was fully extended inside her she was raising her hips to meet my hand and urging me on. I started to brush her clit with my thumb and she moaned loudly. “You know…” she panted, “It was so hot doing that cast of you… I got all excited, and if you keep doing that I’ll…”

I simply smiled and continued to push my finger inside her and rub my thumb over her clit. I’d never made a woman come so quickly, and the appeal of such a triumph in the evening’s unexpectedly erotic atmosphere drove me to make her climax. As her neck arched back with rising pleasure I reached out with my other hand and slipped it under her shirt. She had no bra on and I found her firm breast and hard nipple easily. She moaned deeply when I pinched it between my thumb and forefinger.

She felt wonderful as I slipped my finger in and out of her hot pussy. Christine writhed to my movements and I loved the control she gave to me, letting me pleasure her.

I looked up as she opened her eyes and started at me. “Fuck, that’s good.” She almost shouted and looked down to see my hand pushing into her and rubbing her clit. “I…” her mouth opened. “Oh.”

I felt her body tense, her hips rise form the sofa and then her muscles let go as her climax started. I felt my face break into a huge smile as she contracted around my finger… three… four times. My close-up was incredible, looking down at my finger disappearing into her as she came. I kept it tight inside her when she finally relaxed and slumped back on the sofa.

Her eyes were glassy as she looked up at me. “Now that… was pretty damn good.” she giggled.

“I loved every moment.” I agreed, pulling my finger out and stroking her pussy lips again.

She sat up, still panting, and put her arm around my shoulder. “But now I feel that you’ve been short-changed. Maybe I can help even things up a little?”

It was my turn to laugh. Is that an offer or a question?”

Christine swung up to a sitting position now. “Both. And this, in case you are in doubt, is an order… stand up.”

I wasn’t about to argue and stood before her. Her hands were quickly working on my belt and zipper. She had my jeans down and pants off in record time and as I stepped out of them and kicked them away she took hold of my solid cock. I undid my shirt and pulled it off while she made a few exploratory strokes. Christine smiled up at me and while she kept hold of me with one hand she pulled off her T-shirt with the other, revealing a beautifully pert pair of breasts with quarter-sized nipples that had been straining the material for the last half-hour.

I was just about to reach down and touch her when she pulled down hard on the shaft of my cock and pushed her mouth over me. The sensation of her lips closing tightly around me, her tongue rubbing me and her sucking was heart-stopping. As her hands cupped my balls and ran up my shaft I closed my eyes and gasped. Christine sure knew her way around a cock, and that was nothing to do with her art.

Her movements were debilitating and I was frozen to the spot as she sucked me, licked me all over and ran her hands around my shaft and balls. She pulled down hard again at the base of my cock, making me stand up and out, then she pulled her lips off me and slid away until only her tongue was in contact with me. She looked up with eyes full of impish pleasure to see if I was enjoying this. Then, as soon as she got her confirmation, she took me back into her mouth.

I felt like I wanted to stand there all day and let her suck me to ecstasy, but the reality of the moment was that I had to make a choice… come right there (I was only moments away, such was the intensity of the encounter) or reposition her so I could get inside that gorgeous pussy of hers. If only such choices presented themselves daily!

In the end the thought of slipping into her won over. Feeling her come around me and watching her close-up as she did were the deciding factors—I wanted to know what that felt like around my cock.

It took only the lightest touch of my hands on her shoulders to bring Christine’s sweet mouth off my cock. As she looked up at me I saw that we were in tune with the next move and she wanted the same as me. “Like this?” she whispered, turning away from me, kneeling on the sofa and thrusting her pussy upwards for my pleasure.

It was the first time I’d seen her shapely bare ass and if there is a more welcoming sight in the world, I’ve yet to see it. Christine looked over her shoulder and smiled at me as I fingered her and savored the moment. Then I took hold of my cock and guided it to her pussy lips.

She felt tight, warm and slick as I slowly plunged into her. I watched as her pussy swallowed me, my pleasure rising as my cock disappeared. “That is so good.” Christine sighed as my thighs bumped up to her ass cheeks. “God, I’ve wanted that so much today.” She arched her back and encouraged any extra depth we could manage.

Again, it was hard to disagree with her and as I withdrew slowly I couldn’t help but smile as her tight pussy pulled on me. “Stay slow.” she encouraged. “It’ll be better for you.”

I fought the urge to slam back into her and settled to a slow rhythm. Each time I slipped out of her I reached down and ran my fingers across her clit. She was still swollen and I could tell from her reaction that she was close to another climax. I noticed the increasing aroma of her sex as we moved and began to feel those tell-tale tingles in my legs that meant I was also getting close.

Almost like she sensed it, Christine started to gently break up my rhythm with short movements back to meet me. Sometimes she did that, other times she reached out and scraped her fingertips along my balls. The constant variation postponed my climax for a few strokes, and then when it arrived it was huge.

The hot wave of pleasure that rushed through my body exploded in the bottom of my belly and shot outwards. It was longer than any other climax I’d experienced and for an instant felt like it would never stop. Then my body took control again and started to pump come into Christine’s pussy. I kept thrusting and felt the flood of come wash into her. When I reached down to find her clit it was already dripping from her. I was panting hard from pleasure, not physical effort.

Christine stayed impaled on me while I rubbed her clit and felt her body start to tense again. I felt her try to open her legs wider by easing a knee off the sofa. She moaned for a few seconds and then her body stiffened as she came.

She slipped off me and we fell together on the sofa, coated in sweat and sex. I was still semi-hard and twitching. She took hold of me and pulled back my foreskin to reveal the purple head of my happy cock. We didn’t talk for several moments, just caught our breath and let the reality of this wonderland sink in.

Christine moved first, swiveling to face me and straddling me. Her face was flushed, but very happy. “That was incredible.” She leaned forward and kissed me. The kiss was strangely familiar, even though it was our first.

I lifted my hands to hold her sides. I couldn’t help but grin. Her skin was warm, slick and alive. The moment was unforgettable. “I sure wish I’d seen that ad in the paper. I feel like I’ve been missing out on something very special.”

“You’ve been missing nothing.” she scolded playfully. “You’re the first that I’ve… touched, even. I usually make them do everything by themselves, give them some printed instructions and take them behind the screen so I don’t even see. But with you… well, I just felt that I’d like to do the best possible job on your cast.”

There was no doubt in my mind that Christine had done the best possible job on everything that afternoon.

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