Dancing with the StarsDancing with the Stars


Dancing with the Stars.

She insisted we watch Dancing with the Stars before any intimacy commenced.

We would meet on certain Thursday nights in the winter of 2006 for our long-distance trysts. I looked up the meaning of ‘tryst’, and it was defined as ‘a private romantic rendezvous between lovers’. Yes, that describes what we had.

We met on-line several months prior. An electronic seduction evolved slowly yet gradually. I was undoubtedly the pursuer, hopefully in a charming but persistent manner. My plan, such as it were, must have worked.

She lived in central Ohio. I had both family and business matters that brought me to the area occasionally from my home outside of Philadelphia. I was a project manager for a shopping center developer and I was in charge of an expansion of a strip shopping center in Circleville.

When I discovered that her job as a business manager in a medical practice allowed her to be off on Fridays, it didn’t take me long to conveniently schedule my own project meetings mid-morning on every other Friday, which meant I would to fly to Columbus every other Thursday evening.

After increasingly provocative conversations over the weeks and months, we mutually agreed to meet at a hotel for our initial get-together several days before New Year’s Eve 2005, to ‘test the chemistry’.

We got an ‘A’, let’s just summarize our first joint project that way.

Pam is this lovely woman’s name, by the way. The first initial of her last name starts with the letter D, so I reverentially refer to her as Ms. D.

Ms. D. texted me upon her arrival at the hotel, and in a word, she was sensational. In two words, stunningly beautiful. But a thousand words couldn’t adequately convey my attraction.

Candidly, I was intimidated at the beginning, but careful not to show it. After all, the lion doesn’t exhibit anxiety to the gazelle, now does he? She was elegant and reserved, yet I sensed, correctly as it turned out, a vulnerability. As with most beautiful women, she realized she could evoke almost any man into a quivering mass of protoplasm with a few glances and strategic words.

Ah, but as almost equally certain regarding beautiful, confident women, they surrender to the man who can provide a mix of confidence, respect, and the aforementioned charm. Dominant is not quite the proper word because it exudes that the man takes what he wants without considering the woman’s pleasure.

No, sexually authoritative might be a more accurate depiction of characteristics that intrigue such a woman. That woman, suitably captivated, willingly succumbs to his charisma. A conductor leading an intimate orchestra of two, navigating a path by instinct and experience. A sexual GPS device not required to achieve intense mutual gratification.

And Ms. D. indeed proved to be quite the willing and submissive partner in our sexual evolution.

She had soft, straight, jet-black, shoulder-length hair. Dark, blazing eyes. Full, rich lips surrounding a mega-watt smile of brilliant ivory teeth. When we got to the room and she removed her coat, it revealed a bountiful (yes, sensational would also be an apt word) chest encased in a black ribbed sweater. She was all in black, head-to-toe, tight designer jeans molded around her voluptuous hips and round, firm ass.

Yes, as they say, there is only one chance to make a good first impression. And if a barometer for being impressed is a raging hard-on, well, I was duly inspired and incurably smitten.

But that was then, a preamble to serve as an introduction. This tale brings me to that one night in February when Pam insisted that a rather curious form of foreplay had to include watching Drew Lachey and Cheryl Burke being crowned the initial season’s champions. (No, I didn’t remember. I had to look it up. Hey, I was distracted.) But now it was time to celebrate their victory in our own private way.

She rose from the couch and flashed me a coy, Mona Lisa smile. “Be right back”, she purred huskily. “Can I get you anything?”

I shifted my weight and watched her eyes gravitate to the prominent bulge in my pants. “Oh, I think you know what you can get me.” Not the wittiest reply, perhaps, but a rock-hard dick often lacks for humor.

She turned and walked towards her bedroom, hips swaying a little bit more than needed, just for emphasis that the games were about to begin. “I’m guessing we both want the same thing.”

It was a good guess.

She returned a few agonizingly long minutes later, but it was well worth the wait.

She walked slowly towards me, positioning her splendid torso perhaps eighteen inches from my face as I sat upright on the couch’s edge, in rapt attention mode. She was adorned in what she later told me was a “sheer lace and satin open cup underwire shelf bra and a scalloped embroidery lace crotchless thong.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself. Black, of course, with bright pink trimmings and strings.

I gushed out the first thought that went Çeşme Escort through my head. “Amazing, Ms. D.”

She did a slight bow in gratitude, imitating the performers on her favorite show, pressing her perfectly-shaped zeppelin-like tits together as she bent over. Her breasts were more spherical than oval. Thick, like massive olive-hued frozen water balloons.

“Do you mind if I dance for my star?”, she asked coquettishly. Her eyes flashed with a combination of mischief and lust.

I had learned that Ms. D. was very much the exhibitionist, sending me frequent email photos of her in various erotic poses and lingerie, many open-legged, much to my constant delight. A steady arsenal of masturbation artillery, except tonight’s bi-monthly show was live and in-person.

Not waiting for my obvious answer, she rocked her hips gently to and fro, as though she was balancing on a surfboard on a gentle wave. She described it later as a ‘kizomba’ solo dance, a type of Latin merengue dance.

I could relate to the irony as I concentrated on her gorgeous kizombas as she let her hands wander over her body, cavalierly flicking the front snap of her with bra with her thumb and index finger, peeled it off, and tossed it onto the couch next to me.

As she gyrated in front of me, she cupped her left breast in both hands and lifted her deep chocolate areola to her lips. Her tongue snaked out to lick her erect tan nipple for several seconds and she then repeated the actions with her right breast.

I then came to the sudden revelation that I had two hands of my own and that this would be an appropriate time to make them useful. With one hand, I reached out and gently tugged on the pink string holding the thong on her hips.

With the other, I unsnapped my own pants and lowered the zipper. My angry cock sprang out without any encumbrance (yep, I was going commando) and twitched wildly like an eel flopping on a boat deck. Pre-cum was already leaking from the tip, lathering my plum-shaped cock head.

I held the tiny string of the thong between my fingers and looked up at Ms. D. for permission.

“May I?” I inquired politely. “May I touch?”

“I don’t see any bouncers,” she replied, looking around the room. “House rules. And it’s my house.”

With a small yank the thong fell to the floor and she now stood in front of me, completely nude.

“Besides,” she continued, reaching down to grasp my cock in her manicured fingers, “…I’m going to touch.”

Pam knelt between my legs and parted them as I kicked my trousers off of my ankles and unbuttoned the dress shirt that I had been wearing up to now.

Shoes, I reminded myself. Lose the shoes. You can’t really be fully naked until you get rid of the shoes. Off they went, using the same kicking dexterity that extricated my pants from my ankles.

Ms. D. cupped my engorged testicles with one hand and caressed my shaft with the other. She then…ever…so…slowly…gently….began to suck on my cock head while moaning softly, my cock growing harder in her mouth.

Right about then, my thoughts drifted, I confess. I thought about how many men must see this spectacular woman every day and fantasize about having her do them exactly what she was doing to me now. A slow, deep, sensual, passionate cocksucking. I remembered Lou Gehrig, the famous Yankee Clipper, and his words at his retirement ceremony.

“Today, I consider myself to be the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”

She snapped me out of my flashback by bringing her torso closer to me and raising her head from my lap. Let’s just say I didn’t object to her next words. “You’ve never fucked my tits before. Would you like to?”

Once again, anticipating an answer in the affirmative, she pushed both of her firm but impossibly soft mounds around my cock. “I’d say,” as she began to squeeze her flesh over my rod, “…that this is pretty much a perfect fit. Why haven’t we done this sooner?”

We both watched the show in silence for a few moments until I reached up and tugged her hair back, which had fallen into her face. “You asked me before tonight if I wanted you to put your hair in curls, or leave it straight. Do you know why I chose straight?”

She started to shake her head “no”, but I pulled on her hair a bit more roughly, making her aware that I was now assuming command. She grunted a bit as I stood up which released my cock from the glorious tit fuck.

I pulled my cock up to her face-level and began to slap my shaft rather firmly across her lips and cheeks, grabbing a longer lock of her mane, pulling her head back so she could only look up at me and whimper from the cock slapping.

“Because by the time the evening is through, I’m going to leave your hair with a most decidely ‘just fucked’ look, Ms. D.”

She groaned as I turned her around and lowered her slowly on the couch, spreading her legs widely, inhaling the sweet scent of her cunt, the distinct and uniquely pleasant aroma of a woman in Çeşme Escort Bayan clear arousal. “But first, I’m going to eat this sweet, sweet pussy and turn this couch of yours into a personal flotation device.”

This was 2006 before pubic hair somehow essentially became extinct within the last decade or so. Ms. D. kept her coarse black hairs neatly trimmed in an upside-down triangle above her slit, like a directional arrow. Her pubes were already through matted with her desire, small puddles of moisture oozing from her folds.

I licked and kissed along the top of her triangle while caressing her thighs with my hands, until I let my tongue and mouth began to suck and lick on the salmon-colored labia, peeking between the trimmed black bush.

“Pull your lips apart for me with your fingers, Ms. D. I want to see all of your beautiful cunt so I can decide where to start and finish.”

She complied instantly, taking her labia and pulling each flap an inch of two to the side, which further extended them beyond the perimeter of her pussy. I could now clearly see her little white pearl poking almost bashfully through the soft, distended folds.

I eased one finger, followed quickly by another, into her steaming cavern, and moved both rhythmically inside of her. One finger-fucking the center of her cunt while the other curled upward and began stroking the spongy g-spot on the top of her vaginal wall.

Pam thrashed and bucked her pelvis as I relentlessly teased her cunt with a deep digital massage, adding a third and eventually a fourth finger, all the while French-kissing her gash passionately. Ripples appeared on her flat stomach as she experienced a series of small but escalating orgasms.

I continued my exploration for maybe ten minutes urged by countless exultations of her ecstasy in the form of squeals, cries, and muffled expletives. Finally, almost in mercy of her state of helplessness, I took my fingers and circled her clit before pressing down on her engorged knob as she exploded a stream of cum, coating my face.

As she still quivered in multi-orgasmic delight, I took her clit between my lips and sucked on it, pulling it into my mouth, completely encircling it. Pam was muttering incoherently now and her body was convulsing all over the couch. I had to hold her ankles apart firmly as she repeatedly tried to wrap her legs around my head and thrust her cunt wildly into my mouth.

Her body limp from the oral pleasure she had just received, I lifted my mouth from her drenched, satiated hole. Time to fuck this goddess, now within my total control. My turn.

I slid in with ease into what was now pretty much a heated cauldron. Her normally vice-like cunt was now somewhat looser, yet still welcomed me with the familiar grasping of her talented kegel muscles around my swollen shaft.

We had explored various adventures in our past ‘trysts’, constantly experimenting with new positions, motions, etc. Sometimes deep and slow and sensual, at least at first. Here and now, though, there was no ambiguity. This was going to be a hot, fast fuck.

I mounted her and she almost fell between the cushions of her couch. I looked down as I prepared to enter her and saw there was a big pool of her love juices covering a sizeable portion of the surface of the couch.

“Your ass must be soaked,” I remarked, immediately realizing it wasn’t quite the time for small talk.

“I hadn’t noticed,” she said through gritted teeth. “Now fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

Despite our past uninhibited sessions, Pam had never said that before. She had never directly demanded me to fuck her, much less fuck her hard. I liked it. I liked it a lot. I’d be something less of a gentleman if I didn’t acquiesce.

Her head was essentially swallowed up in pillows and I lifted her legs over her shoulders and pumped into her in a wheelbarrow position, ravaging her pussy with deep, hard, furious thrusts. Her head swiveled from side to side and her fabulous tits bounced up and down in all directions on her chest, depending on the velocity of my thrusts.

It was one of those animal-like fuckings where it almost becomes an out-of-body experience. Two bodies just using the other for their own gratuitous pleasure. I was deeper inside of Pam than I think I had ever been in a woman before.

Holding out any longer was impossible because of the intense sensation, and with a deep, guttural groan of my own, I reluctantly pulled out and released a torrent of sticky, hot cum onto her stomach, much of which oozed down into her navel or into the mat of pubic hair.

We remained in position, silent, exhausted. I still hovered over her for several minutes as I lovingly massaged the pool of semen into her skin, onto her tummy, thighs, and tits, a tender contrast to the wild fuck we had just consummated.

We eventually made our way into the bedroom. After some cuddling interspersed by a few naps, somewhere in the middle of the night I found ourselves in Escort Çeşme the spoon position.

My cock had resurrected and was pulsing between the cheeks of her ass. She was on her right side and I lifted her left leg straight up in the air as I maneuvered my cock to the entrance of her pussy.

I could feel the heat emanating from her slit and already knew the answer as I pushed a few inches into her and whispered into her ear “Yes?”

She lifted her leg a bit higher and reached around to guide me into her. “Mmm, hmm.”

We fucked slowly for perhaps about 45 minutes in the darkness and complete silence, save for the myriad grunts and groans. Just our bodies taking over despite the sensory deprivations. We fucked first in the spoon position. Then I guided her onto her hands and knees and took her doggy style. With her back still to me, I raised her into a semi-kneeling position and grasped her hands behind back, pulling her hair roughly into a ponytail.

I leaned back onto the mattress as she mounted me reverse-cowgirl style. Despite the lack of vision, my thumb still found the puckered star of her anus as I eventually finger-fucked her back door with all five digits. Each time she came her sphincter tightened around my fingers.

We finished as I pulled her back onto me and she rode me while facing away from me still, positioned so I could stimulate her clit while pinching and pulling on her tits.

We kissed passionately in the darkness in this position while we fucked until Pam came for the countless time, quickly followed by an orgasm of my own. This shot sprayed straight up in the air perhaps a foot or two as I lifted her off of me, some of my seed landing mostly on her stomach again.

She rolled off of me and onto the rumpled mattress, her head tucked beneath my arm. “That was incredible,” she declared, while her chest heaved, gasping for breath.

I kissed her forehead tenderly, wiping the hair from her eyes. “I think we’ve achieved the ‘just fucked’ hair style, Ms. D. Which position did you enjoy the most, may I ask?

She smiled without opening her eyes. “All of the above would be the correct answer. But I especially liked that last one, with me on top of you with my back to you. I’ve never done it in that position before. That was intense.”

Her eyelids fluttered open and she gazed at me. “I think you hit places inside of me that had never been touched before with that position. You kept hitting my top wall, where I’m most sensitive.” She reached down and caressed my slowly receding cock. “That wouldn’t be possible if you weren’t so big.”

I responded by kissing her deeply and we both moaned into each other’s mouth until we faded into slumber again.

She stirred pre-dawn and got up from the bed into the bathroom. I could hear her washing her face and brushing her teeth. “You’re not thinking about brushing your hair, are you?”, I called out to her.

The door opened as she reappeared, holding the hair brush in her hand. Her gorgeous hair cascaded down her face in tangled knots, partially covering her tits. “I think we’re well beyond the ‘just fucked’ look.” She walked towards the bed, and climbed up next to me.

“I’d say we’re at the ‘thoroughly fucked’ phase, Mr. G. My hair might take weeks to recover.”

“Oh, I’d say we have at least one more phase to aspire to this morning, Ms. D., wouldn’t you?”

She scrunched her nose and squinted her eyes. “Uh, I’m not sure…”, she said, cupping her mound gingerly. “I’m pretty sore. That was quite a battering she endured,” referring to her pussy. “I don’t know if I can do it again. Though I want to…..” Her words trailed off.

I crawled to the edge of the bed and burrowed my head through the sheets, like Punxsutawney Phil looking for his shadow, and emerged between her thighs. “Maybe I can kiss it and make it better,” I offered, placing soft kisses on her even softer fur.

I reached up for a pillow and placed it under her ass. I got next to the bed and knelt on the floor, pulling her by the ankles to the edge of the bed, and began to lick her slowly from the top of her slit to the bottom, up and down, over and over, letting my tongue deep a little lower each time.

I put my right hand between the pillow and her cheeks and raised her slightly, allowing me access to her rear entrance, and I rimmed her anus softly while gently caressing just above her mons veneris. I alternated leisurely licking her anal and vaginal passages, enjoying the view, the sounds, and the scent wafting through the bedroom.

“I think,” she gasped, grabbing at my head. “I’m really not so sore any more.” Needing no further urging than that, I scooted back onto the bed and lay on my back.

I took her by the hip and lifted onto me. “Ride me, beautiful. I want to watch you fuck me. Use my cock for your pleasure.”

She did so, commencing to rock and gyrate on my pole, resulting in a horizonal tango between lovers. I placed a pillow under my own head and rested against the head board so I could lean over and suck on her tits while she fucked me with increasing urgency.

I raised my head from her chest reluctantly and made another request. “Your turn. Suck your tits again, Ms. D. I want to watch. So fucking erotic.”

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