A Real Woman on a Raw Journey…Evolving Before Your Eyes

I had no intention of fucking him. I don’t know what came over me. I was only on my second cocktail. In the middle of a perfectly decent and enjoyable conversation, I did something I have never done before. I asked him, “Do you want to fuck?” He hardly missed a beat. If he choked on his drink, you wouldn’t have known. Without a second of hesitation, he said, “absolutely.”

As the time approached for us to meet, we texted each other. His hotel or mine, I asked. He replied, “Come to me,” following up with, “I can’t wait to taste you.” When I inquired if he does this all the time, he texted, “I’m not innocent, but I’m not a slut. I’m going to treat you like one though…with appreciation.” No one had ever talked to me like that. My initial reaction was to feel uncomfortable. I’m a respectable woman. Or so I thought. But what kind of respectable woman asks a man she just met if he wants to fuck her? Maybe I am a slut. Maybe I LIKE being a slut. Maybe I WANTED him to treat me like a slut…with appreciation. There’s no maybe about it, because I didn’t hesitate to go to him.

His lips were so soft and tender. I hate kissing. Well, I never kiss. Well, I never kiss my husband. But I kissed him and melted. As he seduced me with his mouth, his hands explored my body. New territory for him. My breasts were the first place his hands traveled as he kept me engaged making love to my mouth with his tongue. Then they slid down my waist to my hips and around to my ass. As we pressed our bodies against each other, the primal desires devoured us. He undressed; I followed suit. He grabbed me again, and he went back to hypnotizing me with his presence. His mouth, his tongue, his hands, his body, his warmth, his confidence, his determination, his passion – I melted in his arms.

He fucked like a rock star. Every act we did flowed fluidly from one scene to the next. It’s all one big stew of carnal pleasure – the memory of that night. I sucked his dick; he ate my pussy. I spread my legs; he fucked me hard. I climbed on top; he fucked me from behind. I took his cock deep in my ass; he licked my ass. I released myself to him completely; he took control. We were intense together. We both had profound passion within that came alive with one another. It was like baking soda and vinegar – the reaction of mixing the two of us was explosive.

We had chemistry. We both knew it before I arrived. That’s why the words “Do you want to fuck?” came out of my mouth before I even realized what I had said, and he immediately said, “Absolutely.” It was one of those nights where it seemed like destiny. He did things to me…we did things together…that I had never done before. He was far more experienced than me, and he knew a woman’s body better than I did. As we continued through the night, he put me in positions I had never seen. When texting prior to meeting, I had expressed my love of deep throating to which he made his disclaimer that he wasn’t huge. I have to admit, to just look at him, you’d think he had an average sized cock. I’m not sure what average is, but his dick doesn’t look intimidating. It looks delicious. It looks perfect. But what he does with it left me feeling like I had been fucked by an elephant!

He laid me on the bed, pulled my legs straight up to a 90 degree angle, feet together, and he pounded the fuck out of my pussy. I couldn’t believe how deep and how hard that dick could fuck me. There’s no way that unintimidating cock could do what it did…but it did. I wanted to fuck on the balcony. We were in a big city, several stories high, in the heart of downtown. It was the middle of the night with only a few people still on the streets. So we went on the balcony. I grabbed on to the bar of the railing, overlooking the metropolitan lights, streets and buildings, while he grabbed my hips and slid his cock in between my legs, finding the opening he had come to know so well in the hours we’d been together. Once in, he proceeded to fuck the shit out of me, banging his cock so deep in my pussy I thought I was going to die! He finally asked me if I was ok, to which I had to admit, my pain was outweighing the pleasure in that position.

We went back in the room where he laid me on the bed again. Looming over me with his large frame, he placed his hands on my mouth, my face and then my throat. I felt no pain. If he put any pressure on my neck, I didn’t notice. It was the visual. The fantasy of choking me while his dick was between my legs thrusting into my pussy that aroused us both. This too was a first for me. The only time a man’s hands had been wrapped around my neck was when I was being beaten by a physically abusive man. I know how it feels to have someone try to choke the life out of you. His hands around my neck felt like the opposite. In a strange way, he was breathing life into me.  And then, he placed a pillow over my head. Again, there was no pressure or sense of fear that he intended to harm me. This was the ultimate test of trust. It was counter-intuitive to release myself to him to this extent having only known him for one day. And yet, I didn’t fight it. I let him continue to fuck me while he pressed a pillow over my head. He shared some of his dark side with me, and I allowed him to do it as a willing, trusting, submissive lover would do.

In between our sessions of sexual activity, we talked, we ate, and we laid together. We opened up to each other about our lives. We shared very intimately. He listened, touched my face, played with my hair and made me feel safe. I welled up with tears as he mirrored back to me what he interpreted from the stories I had told him – that my father wasn’t there for me through the most painful times in my life. He looked in my eyes with understanding and compassion. I don’t know what in his life led him to feel my pain, but he did. He knew that pain. I felt it. His heart was open-wide and wired to mine that night. He made me feel understood, connected and loved. He opened himself to me in ways I intuitively know he rarely does. He may fuck a lot, and he may fuck a lot of women, but I know the connection we had that night was rare – for both of us.

After at least four hours of focusing solely on each other in every way, he started to fall asleep. I laid next to him, as much as physically possible pressing every part of my body against his. We fell asleep like that. I woke up an hour or two later and slithered under the covers to place my mouth on his cock. I slowly sucked until the blood started flowing down there and he started to wake up. Laying flat on his back in a semi-conscious state, he became fully erect again as I made love to his cock with my mouth, tongue and throat. I sucked, licked and deep throated, taking all of it in me, from the tip of his dick down to the base of the shaft. I sucked and sucked, bobbing my head up and down as I stroked his cock with my mouth. And when he came, I continued to suck and take all of him deep down my throat, swallowing every drop of his come as fast as he could pump it out. We both fell back asleep for another hour; then he had to wake up and hit the road, leaving me in his room to sleep as long as I wanted. He had called to get a late checkout for that very reason – so I could sleep another six hours if I wanted.

He loved me that night. Not only did I experience it, but he told me. His honesty dictated that he express this sentiment truthfully. He said, “I love you this night.” And love me that night he did…so much so that it lingered with me for weeks…months even. It took a while to mellow the desire for him. After an experience like that, it’s easy to become addicted. He was like crack. One hit and you’re hooked for life. He left me wanting more of him. But what I’ve since come to realize is that what I really want is more of me. He introduced me to my dark side, and I think I like it.

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