Midweek Fantasizing (IV)

couple-bed-9[1]We were texting early this evening and I was complaining that I had to find the energy to head out the door and go to the gym for a second workout of the day. I wasn’t really looking forward to it.

Her : Be much more fun to get in bed with me

That brought an immediate flood of high octane memories surging through my brain. Our three days together and the impact it had on us both

Me: Yes it would! I’m a lot more eager for that. I really want to see your beautiful face up close. See you nod your head and beg “Yes. More. Please!”

Her: Mmmm. Yes please

Me: That was soooo good wasn’t it, Baby?

Her: Best ever. The very best ever

 

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Shy Never Got Me Anywhere

MV5BMTUzMjM5NzAyMl5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwODEwOTIzNw@@._V1_SX640_SY720_[1]When I was a freshman at university one course I took was Biology. I hated Biology.. Except I looked forward to every Tuesday and Thursday at 1:30, the times for my biology lecture or lab.

And as you might guess, it was because of a woman. I was kind of lonely my freshman year, certainly the first term. I missed the girl friends I had had in high school. Particularly one special one who was a year younger than me. She would occasionally come to my university to visit that term, and I went a couple of times to where her older brother was at college to meet. But it just wasn’t the same.

And there was this girl in Biology. She was a dead ringer for Katharine Ross. You know, quiet, laid back, brunette goddess Katharine Ross from The Graduate and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid fame. I was nuts over Katharine Ross, as any red blooded American teenager would have been.  Her dark haired beauty, long tresses,  and understated smouldering sexuality were pretty riveting.

So Biology Hottie was always on my mind on Tuesdays and Thursdays. But I was much too shy to do anything about it. Out of the corner of my eye I would watch her, and I could tell she was also watching me. In lab, we never sat together, but always exchanged smiles and looks. But never words.

Had it been a year later, I am certain she would have been a regular visitor to my bedroom. Because the next year I learned how to jettison my timidity. I may get to those stories some time. I hope to.

I took the year after Freshman year off and learned oh so much. That year was a lab of its own … for learning the inner workings of the female of your species.

When I returned to campus a year later I kept an eye out for Biology Hottie. My whole 3 years back I never saw her once. Because if I had …. well, you know … And being so shy, I never knew her name, not even her first name. So all my skills of internet search are useless in trying to find this beauty who got away.

So being shy never got me anywhere. That’s why I’m not shy around women any more. I think it’s time to watch Butch, Sundance, and Etta again don’t you think?.

Sea Waves [VI] – Words and Scenes

I apologize to you, my poor readers. This has been so drawn out. The truth is that I have been so overwhelmed with everything that happened over those three days that I have not been able to organize, prioritize, and itemize all that transpired. And so I have given up!

Rather I have decided to give you a stream of consciousness view of my memory from that incredible meeting.  These thoughts will bear no relation to order of time, nor impact.

In case you have forgotten here are the preludes leading up to Cassandra’s visit Sea Waves [I]  Sea Waves [IISea Waves [III]   Sea Waves [IV] and  Sea Waves [V]

Here goes:

Initial kissing and cuddling. Hands touching, squeezing, caressing. Bodies writhing. Clothing discarded. Naked closeness. No time for breathing. Massage. Wonderful taste as lips, tongue, mouth, and fingers meet pussy.  Sighs and coos. Arches, moans, more, time stands still.

Legs spread, draped over shoulders as lips touch, eyes meet and love is made.

French bistro lunch.  Worlds meet. Time fades. Orgasms, loud, will they hear next door?, touching, more touching, touching for hours, Greek dinner, mouth in a perfect O , part “oh” part gasp, part grunt; hours and hours of continuous orgasms, insatiability, begging, hand around slender neck, kneeling on the edge of the bed hands held behind her back, cock thrusting, watching reflection in picture over the bed, cupping pussy, fingers deep, hand so deep, gagging on cock, coma, eyes rolled back, wanting more, nodding yes, too weak to talk but still wanting more …

I will leave you with this scene. It was our last time in bed together, from mid morning to early afternoon.

“Baby, are you alright?”

She lay there. On her back, eyes wide, chin drooping. About 30 seconds later, her face turned to me and she softly whispered …

“What Baby? What did you say?”

At that exact moment, I knew she would never forget me. Even should she never remember the state her mind was in half a minute before, I knew she would never forget this. Though her cognizant mind may have been absent for a tiny block of time, her subconscious had totally absorbed all that was happening and had happened. Her total being was caught up in the sensations she had been experiencing for the past 3 1/2 hours. Her pleasure zones were close to overloading. They had even now overwhelmed her state of consciousness.

I have been with many women. And most loved sex. Many craved a lot of sex. But Cassandra is different. Very different. What exactly does “sexually insatiable” mean anyway? I now understand. Now I have seen it. Over 3 days we had several multi-hour sessions in bed. With my cock, with my mouth, with my hand, with my fingers, with my touch, with my voice, with her vibrator she orgasmed above me, beside me, and under me. I watched her ever so closely, her beautiful face contorting. I pressed closely as she writhed and arched, felt her body as she first shuddered, then shook, then quaked as the outbound energy roar surged through her entire body. Then the gush. Only to leave her whimpering and utterly spent.

For a few seconds only … as the force regathered and began its rush to another climax. This to be repeated for hours, the onslaught broken only by a few minutes of tender after care. My whispers, my touch, my hand cupping her tender pussy until I start with my fingers again.

“Can you cum again for me, Baby?”

Her eyelids heavy, she has strength only to nod slightly. And the tide rolls in, the waves begin to crash from within her again. . . and another hour of pleasuring begins…

“OHHHHH … OHHhhh … Ohhhhh … ohhhhh.”

 

 

 

 

 

Sea Waves [V] Cassandra Visits. We Meet!

This is another post about Cassandra’s visit. For a refresher or if you are a new reader here are the previous posts: Sea Waves [I], Sea Waves [II], Sea Waves [III], Sea Waves [IV]

The door opened. Wide. And there she was. I was transfixed. Frozen. With a wide schoolboy grin ear to ear.

I have never described Cassandra physically, though she does closely resemble the images I have posted. Her figure would make you fall out of your chair. And her face is quite simply, stunning. If the fleet that was launched to return Helen from Troy had known  Cassandra was back there on the shore, I guarantee it would have turned around.

All this I knew from pics and video chats. So I knew what to expect. I thought I was well prepared. I was not.

Milliseconds? … full seconds? … I don’t know how long I stood there at the doorstep to the room. I do know I visually drank her in … gray v-neck and black leggings offsetting her spectacular blonde mane, deep green eyes flashing up at me … my eyes seemingly parched for her classic beauty slaked their thirst to the maximum. But it could not have been long. I stepped over the threshold and wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly to my chest. She tucked in perfectly to my 6’+ frame, just like she always belonged there. So it seemed, right from the start. From that moment, everything was right. I could sense it; I felt it; I knew this.

I do know we held our tight embrace for several seconds. I took in the total feel of her against my body. And we murmured greetings and whispered lovers’ words. I ran my fingers lovingly through her tresses.  I needed to kiss her.  I did. Beginning softly along her slender neck, creating shivers in us both, then slowly, deeply, lips touching lightly at first, gradually more tender, then with more passion.

“Let’s go in, Darling” Cassandra cooed.  Arm in arm, wrapped tightly together we entered, walking through the L-shaped room to the parlor area. We embraced again, sighs emanating from both of us. We just stared at each other, wide smiles while mumbling incoherently about how her flight was, how we each had slept, how the traffic had been getting to the hotel that morning. Then we embraced again tightly. And kissed some more. With more passion, as if the extra lip pressing would wipe away the time that had accumulated waiting to meet.

Then we ordered breakfast from room service. Bacon and eggs, scrambled, whole wheat toast, and orange juice and coffee. How more mundane can it be? But, of course, it wasn’t.  It arrived surprisingly quickly. And it was as far from mundane as you could ever imagine. The conversation continued, but with more special topics. More warmth. more ease. More it has always been thus.  Things just began to fall into place, so correctly, so naturally. We were so relaxed. In no way did this resemble a first ever meeting. As we sat across from each other at our improvised breakfast table, as I looked at her, inhaled her beauty and natural intelligence, I was overcome with what I can only call pure pleasure. And with that pleasure,  I lost the ability to speak momentarily. I could only stare, and listen.

We had promised each other there would be no pressure. No requirements. No need to try and fulfill the other’s desires or fantasies. Sex was likely not to happen.  And I believe we were each fine with that scenario. As we finished our breakfast, Cassandra pulled us to the bed. For more embracing and kissing.

I could feel a giant wave of built up emotion and long term longing about to crash over me.

This would be a test.