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Chapter 01: The Beginning
Gwen didn’t give much background information on our first meeting, so I will. It is one of the most important events in my life and I can’t just skip over it.
I first met Gwen on line in a discussion group. She was knowledgeable, smart, funny and literate. Even when we disagreed, we did so civilly and respectfully, bringing out points to explain why we differed. She impressed me. We teased each other about typos or unintentional double entendres, that kind of thing.
After several years of this, Gwen and some other members of the group talked me into flying up to her city for a weekend event.
At this point, I’d been struggling along in a bad marriage for several years and trying to keep it together “for the kids.” The wife had become a drug addict and life was an endless loop of me drying her out and her falling off the wagon, interspersed with her drug induced tirades. Somewhere along the course of this, she also got religion and decided that we didn’t need to have sex anymore. Not a big loss, I don’t want to have sex with a druggie anyhow. Nothing against those of you who do, it’s just not my cup of tea. I want my woman awake, aware and willing.
I hadn’t had a vacation in years and really needed to get away. Going to the event this weekend at least promised to be some fun. I would probably get more sleep than I’d had in a while. I didn’t even consider “getting lucky,” after years of being degraded and ignored by my wife, I was not feeling very attractive and didn’t want to risk more rejection.
So I went up there only hoping to have some fun, get some shuteye and get away from the druggie for a few days. Rest and relax.
I arrived at the airport and caught a shuttle to my hotel. As I had decided to go at the last minute, I was not in the same hotel as the event organizers. But Gwen and I had exchanged cell phone numbers. She called me when she got to the event hotel. I walked the two blocks over.
Now, I had only text chatted with Gwen on line. I had no basis to guess what she looked like. If I had to be pinned down on what my expectations were, I would have said anywhere from dumpy to fat. That was based on nothing more than low expectations of people on line in general and had nothing to do with anything Gwen had said or done. I simply figured people spending a lot of time on line probably had a lot of swivel chair spread.
So imagine my shock when I met Gwen, because she was STUNNING! Okay, not merely stunning, she was my kind of stunning. Every guy has what he likes in girls. Most guys are breast men, but I am a leg man. In order of body parts that appeal to me, I like hot legs, tight butts, flat abs and champagne-glass sized breasts. I’ll talk more about breasts later. You could safely say that I like my women svelte. I prefer Calista Flockhart to Salma Hayek.
There I was staring at my dream body come to life, topped by a beautiful face with deep, dark, mysterious eyes and a crown of dark, curly, luxuriant hair. In a sultry voice, she asks me if I am Lance. I think I managed to admit that I was. She could have asked if I was Dr. Mengele, I’d have said yes. I don’t remember what we said for the next few minutes, I was preoccupied trying not to stare and drool.
The first event was a rally downtown. We rode down to it together, sitting next to each other. I don’t actually recall the conversation. I only know I loved the sound of her voice and was falling into her eyes. I’ve never felt such an instant, visceral attraction for anyone in my life
This was just TERRIBLE! Because in addition to being smart, funny, literate and drop-dead beautiful, she looked to be about 15 years younger than I was. I’d noticed a few years back that I had become invisible to teenage girls. Every year the age of girls to whom I was invisible seemed to rise. So I figured there was absolutely no chance of anything happening between me and this Goddess, no matter how smitten I was. I was merely going to spend as much time with her as I could and enjoy her beauty and company.
The rally was in a square downtown, between a bunch of tall buildings with mirrored glass fronts. The sunlight was reflecting off the buildings and pretty much turned the place into an oven. They had a band playing and I swooped on the chance to dance with Gwen. Damn, she moved well. It was a real turn-on to watch. Periodically there were some speeches, we sat down and listened to them, then got up and danced again when the music started back up. Sadly, there were no slow dances. I’d have loved to have held her in my arms.
At one point she seemed to have a pain in her neck. Without thinking, I reached up and started to massage her neck and shoulders. It’s a good thing I did it without thinking, I’d have probably chickened out if I had thought of it. I felt like I’d grabbed a live wire when I touched her. It sent a shock through me. Wonder of wonders, she didn’t pull away. She actually relaxed into my hands escort ataşehir and made a happy noise. So I kept massaging and kind of worked down her back to the muscles between her shoulder blades. This was surreal. I was touching this unapproachable beauty and she was not only letting me, she was enjoying it. I think I forgot to breathe.
I was standing behind her, staring at the nape of her lovely neck, my hands massaging her back. My brain was spinning. This was too good to be true. Then I realized my hands had a mind of their own and were working their way forward, en route to her breasts. Holy shit, was I going to grope her in a public place, when we had barely met? No way she’d put up with that, it was a fast track to getting slapped and never talking to her again. I pulled back hurriedly and tried to get my pulse under control.
She didn’t say anything, so I was thinking I hadn’t gone far enough for her to realize what I was (subconsciously) doing. The rally ended, we went back to the hotels. But talking on the way back, I got the impression that the attraction might be mutual, although I could not point to anything in particular to support that conclusion. I decided it was wishful thinking on my part.
Gwen went to the event hotel. I walked over to mine, intending to grab a quick shower and change clothes. I needed it after dancing in the hot plaza.
Right as I finished my shower, I heard a knock at my door. I called out “Who is it?” I was stunned when Gwen answered.
My imagination went into Warp Speed. I slicked my hair back with my fingers, threw on a pair of pants, and went to the door, nameless erotic fantasies dancing in my head.
Taking a deep breath to calm myself, sucking in my gut, I opened the door, to find Gwen standing there with some guy. She introduced him as her Significant Other.
She stepped in to give me a hug, pressing her body against mine. I could feel her breasts against my chest, her thighs against my thighs, and I could smell her perfume. I got an erection. I tried to think about dead, burnt bodies to try to make it go down before anyone noticed. It just didn’t seem to be an appropriate thing.
We chatted for a couple of minutes about the next event. I said I would meet them at the event hotel after I got dressed. They left and I congratulated myself on concealing my feelings and my erection, which had come right back up as I watched her tight butt walk away from me.
I had to lie down on the bed. I felt dizzy. The rise and fall of hope had been so extreme and so fast it completely sucked the energy out of me. As I lay there, I thought about the situation. My conclusion was that Gwen bringing him with her to my hotel room was her way of letting me know to back off. I should have known better. She was much too beautiful, too young, I was such a reject. All these kinds of things went swirling through my brain.
My best course, I told myself, was to back way off like she wanted and to be able to keep her for a friend. That is what I did, though I stared at her beauty every chance I got that weekend. I even managed to not get caught undressing her with my eyes.
Then I went back home, to hell.
Gwen and I still chatted on line from time to time and once in an all-too-rare while talked on the phone. At times I could not help flirting with her. She would seem to flirt back sometimes and other times she seemed to shut me down. Mixed signals, I couldn’t figure out if there was a possibility there or not.
I mostly work in my car and we talked on my cell phone. It has reception problems in some areas I travel. I never heard her comment about thinking of me sexually. If I had only known, I’d have done something about it. A lost opportunity.
Fast forward a few years. I’m going back up there to another event. Only this time, my children have grown and the druggie had left me over a year ago, after she totaled the car. She left behind huge bills from credit cards I never knew we had. My life was in shambles and my finances were a wreck.
But Gwen had mentioned going to a movie with me and that was a very exciting prospect. I didn’t expect it to go anywhere. Our relative ages hadn’t changed. I was now beyond broke, so I felt less attractive than ever. But it would be more fun than I’d had since the last time I got to see Gwen.
So when some more work than usual came in and I found I could afford to go up there, I made the reservations and called Gwen to ask what movie she wanted to see. Her response made me think that she had forgotten the invitation, but I was pleased that she was willing to go to a movie with me anyway. She named a movie and I said “Great!” I didn’t care what the movie was, I was going to see Gwen.
When I picked her up, she was very quiet. Subdued. Not the bright bundle of energy I was used to. Uh-oh, I thought, this is not an auspicious start. I started to drive and she directed me to take a couple of turns. She’s a Goddess. kadıköy escort bayan Her wish is my command. I made the turns. We passed a house that she stared at as we went by, swivelling her head to follow it. Then she started to cry and told me about the relationship that had just broken up that day. This jerk had not only dumped my Goddess, but he did it by e-mail. What could be colder than that? No wonder she was so upset.
So here she was, crying on my shoulder, literally. Talk about mixed feelings. First, I wanted to rip his lungs out for hurting her. But I was also glad that there was no one else in the picture right then. Maybe I had a chance? Dreaming, I know, but a man must dream great things to achieve them.
She talked about how she felt some more and it reminded me of a song. I then, to my own amazement, began to sing to her. If I ever get to meet the songwriter, I am buying him dinner. He gave me the right words for the situation and it seemed to soothe her. She dried her eyes, scooted over to her seat, and gave me directions to the theater.
I drove happily, feeling I had made an emotional connection with her. Suddenly I realized how much I wanted an emotional connection with her. This astonished me. After the druggie left, I’d told myself I never wanted to be close to anyone again.
By the time we got there, it was raining. It was not raining hard, not much more than drizzling. It was the kind of rain you see in romantic movies, not driving winds with lots of thunder and lightning. Just small drops coming down almost vertically with a light pitter patter. The most noticeable effect of the rain, to me, was that it made her lustrous hair curlier, which looked damn sexy.
I thought of Gene Kelly and had to restrain myself. I’d gotten away with one song, no need to push my luck. And everyone looks stupid when they try to dance as Gene Kelly did. He was simply too good.
So while there was no song on my lips, there was one in my heart as I walked us to the ticket booth. If I wasn’t feeling good enough already, she linked her arm in mine as we walked. I was wondering how she kept up with me, as I was walking on clouds. That’s when I realized we were walking in perfect step with each other.
Perfect step for a couple has to be explained. It isn’t like the Army, left, right, left together. It is actually the opposite, my left foot and her right foot, then my right foot and her left foot. We were walking with our stride the same length, keeping our hips touching. But I wasn’t making short, uncomfortable steps to achieve it. It felt like we belonged together. I felt ten feet tall.
There was not much of a line outside the ticket booth, more of a pause than a wait. The ticket clerk did a double take looking at us. I thought he was going to say something about me taking my daughter to the show. Fortunately, he kept his mouth shut. I bought our tickets and we went inside, still walking in perfect step with her holding my arm. My pulse and respiration were high and so was I. Until I read Gwen’s version of the story, it never occurred to me that she would think I would not pay for her ticket. I find it hard to believe she ever had to pay for anything. Pretty girls don’t pay for things and Gwen is beautiful.
Inside the lobby we went up to the snack bar. I asked her to pick out what she liked. She pointed at the ice cream bits and asked if they were okay. Apparently she didn’t realize that I could deny her nothing, she could have ordered the entire snack bar and I’d have paid for it. Somehow. But I managed to say they were and ask if there was anything else she wanted. She got some mini candy bars for us to share.
She never let go of my arm the whole time. I was elated. Okay, maybe I was an asshole and taking advantage of her emotional state. I decided I could live with that. This was the best day I’d had since I last saw her, which made it the best day I’d had in the last six years or so.
Going into the theater, I was surprised at how empty it was. This was one of those multi screen theater complexes with about a dozen or so movies playing. Apparently the show we picked was one of the least popular. I figured this worked to my advantage as well.
I decided to see how my luck was going and headed for the back of the theater, which was deserted. I figured if she didn’t want to go there she’d say something about preferring to sit somewhere else and we would. But for some reason I thought of Patton: “l’audace, l’audace, toujours l’audace!”. I went for it and succeeded. Thank you, George.
We were sitting in the very back of the theater, right under the projector. But I had no idea what to do next. In fairness, I had been out of the dating game a long time. I probably was not a smooth operator even back then. I’m not movie star handsome or a world-class athlete and I’ve never been rich. And I’d never been with a girl so stunningly beautiful.
So I was contemplating escort bostancı all this as the previews began to roll. I was enjoying sitting next to Gwen, who was actually touching me, not merely sitting in the next seat. She hadn’t brought down the arm rest that could go between us. I seemed to be doing tactically fine so far, but I lacked any strategy for what to do next.
Then Gwen silently offered me one of the ice cream drops, holding it up to me in her hand. Instead of reaching for it, I bent down to take it from her fingers with my lips. I tried to get some fingers as well, but she playfully pulled them away from me. Then she offered another ice cream drop to me! So we now had a game of me trying to nibble her fingers.
I’d be lying if I told you I had any realistic hopes of even getting this far. I give myself high marks for having scrounged up the courage to flirt with someone so far out of my league. To have her flirting back? With contact? Extraordinary! My hormone level hadn’t been this high since I was a teenager.
Then Gwen shifted her position, bringing her legs up onto the seats to her left and leaning back into me. I was thunderstruck.
First off, even in jeans she has awesome legs. Now here they were, practically on display for me. Second off, this put her head on my shoulder, where I could smell her perfume.
I wasn’t smelling only her perfume. All perfume of the same brand smells the same in the bottle. But when women put it on, it mixes with their body chemistry and the scent changes in subtle ways. I suspect I may have smelled Gwen’s perfume before. But on her, it was something else again! My pulse rate went up further.
I was torn on what to do next. I didn’t want to risk losing Gwen’s friendship. But I was on a roll and might never have this chance again. Patton had been working well for me so far, I decided to push my luck. I lifted Gwen’s shoulders to support her and turned in my seat. I put my left leg up by hers, placing her between my legs, and pulled her into me.
And she let me! Now I had her in my arms, her back up against my chest, the scent of her hair in my nostrils. It was overwhelming.
I looked down at her, inhaling her fragrance, admiring her hair, enjoying the feeling of holding her in my arms. Then she tilted her head to her left, causing her hair to fall away and exposing her neck and ear.
And such a damned sexy neck it was! My mind had stopped working, I was going on lust alone at this point. I bent down and kissed her on the nape of the neck. She shivered, she gasped, and she did not pull away. I continued to kiss along her neck and shoulder, up to her ear. I used my tongue to probe the sensitive area right behind her ear. She moaned in pleasure.
Triumph! Thrills! Exhilaration! Followed by the shocking realization that I was kissing her! I wanted more but I needed to know if this was what she wanted also. I wanted her to want me.
I turned her head toward me to look into her eyes. The unbridled lust there answered my question and released my own pent-up lust. I kissed her hard on the mouth, reveling in the feeling, wanting it so badly.
Until I heard the zipper, I didn’t realize that I was opening her jacket. Then I reached in and cupped her magnificent breasts. She moaned into my mouth then leaned her head back on my shoulder, exposing her neck again. I went back to kissing and nibbling on her neck.
My hands worked their way inside her blouse under her bra and then I was holding her magnificent breasts in my trembling hands.
I told you there would be more about breasts later and this is the time.
Everybody has their own preference. I like smaller breasts, because they tend to have better shape and less sag. But the real key to breasts, for me, are the nipples. I like bullet nipples, the kind that stick out a half inch or more and let you know either the temperature or if she is excited. Best of all are small, shapely breasts with bullet nipples that are sensitive. The more sensitive the better. Sensitivity beats size in breasts any day, in my book.
Now that you know this, you can better appreciate how I felt, holding these perfect “handful” breasts in my hands for the first time, feeling how wonderfully firm they were. Then my fingers discover she has bullet nipples and she gasps! Her nipples were VERY sensitive!!
I was like a kid with a new toy, experimenting with her nipples, feeling her react to my rubbing them, pinching them, stretching them. All the things I love doing, she seems to love having done to her. I can hear it in her breathing, feel it in the tensing and trembling of her muscles, the arching of her back.
Suddenly she grabbed my hand and pulled it out of her bra. My heart sank. Then she started licking and sucking my fingers, getting them wet. My heart leaped when she put my hand back inside her bra! She intentionally got my fingers wet so I could play with her nipples better! So I did, happily. I felt her getting hotter and more aroused. I kissed her lips, her neck and her ears as I tweaked her nipples, rolling them between my thumb and middle finger while flicking the end of the nipple with my index finger. I felt her hips starting to move in response.
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