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I am a 34-year-old single woman, five feet six and 130 lbs, with a slim but curvy figure.

I was divorced three years ago, after spending 10 years with a man who was unable to express any emotion. (I have since discovered that this is true of most men.) After about two subsequent years of totally enjoyable, indiscriminate fucking, I began to take stock of my situation. For a midwestern girl raised in a conservative rural town, I was finding sex to be an unlimited, always beautiful experience. However, something was missing.

I discovered what this was one warm April morning, when Garth, the husband of a business associate happened to come into my office. This rather surprised me, since we had very little trade with his organization. We conversed casually, and he invited me out for a drink after work. There was nothing unusual in this, except that for the next eight hours my fantasies ran wild.

I should say that physically Garth was not the type of man who turned me on. I like small, slender, short men, whereas he was tall, big, hairy and bearded, wore cowboy boots and smoked a pipe. I spent the rest of the day debating the pros and cons of fucking him.

The day finally ended, and I joined him at the bar of the motel where he was staying, with fucking still very much on my mind. After several drinks and much idle conversation, I found myself immensely interested in him: his size, his life, his being. I found myself resting my left hand on the back of the booth where he was sitting, and because of the closeness, it seemed only natural to rub his neck and hairline. At that point Garth finally asked if I wanted to fuck him — just like that!

His honesty was a super turn-on. I’d been horny before, and could always arrange to be screwed, but this was different; it was so blatant and deliberate. We started French-kissing right there in public. I reached under the table and began to gently massage his cock. I gradually became aware that a couple in the next booth was watching us and grinning approvingly, but I didn’t care; the risk of being seen made it still more exciting.

We finally went to his room for the most satisfying sexual experience of my life. Although I was somewhat frightened by his overall size and power, I was not only horny but curious.

After much foreplay, he began to suck me. His gentleness came as a real surprise to me. So did my unexpected anger.

I have always enjoyed oral sex, up to the point where it really begins to turn me on. Then it becomes too much for me to handle, and I find a way to manipulate my partner into a different position. But this time it didn’t work. Garth’s strength was overpowering. He held me down as he continued sucking me, his tongue moving in and out of my pussy, with occasional quick movements around my tender clitoris.

The more turned on I got, the more angry I became, until I was struggling for all I was worth. All the while, I was begging him to fuck me. He was holding my hands down close to my hips, and the only part of me that was mobile was my ass. But his mouth and head moved with me as I squirmed, and I could not get free. I was furious. I told him I hated all men, especially him. Not only had I lost all physical control, but all emotional control as well.

Eventually, however, my anger subsided and I quit struggling, feeling totally drained. The anger was slowly replaced by feelings of warmth, gentleness, and, for the moment, deep caring. It was as though I was experiencing something I’d never known before — total trust in another human being. At that point Garth turned my hands loose in unspoken acknowledgement of that trust.

I cannot even identify when my orgasm began and ended that night, but once it started it was continuous, like riding a slow, powerful wave up and down. Garth eventually came inside me and rolled over, whereupon I crawled on top of him and finished my orgasm by fucking his half-limp penis.

I could feel its stickiness inside me, and I loved the feeling. Contracting my vaginal muscles, I pulled it tight and played with it, quickly making it stiffen again. At the same time we began talking about how we felt, and describing our wildest fantasies.

That orgasm was the most memorable I have ever had. It had a gradual beginning, peaked when I struggled to be free and was completed when I felt totally relaxed, in charge and comfortable.

I still feel naturally drawn to short, slender men, but I have begun to enjoy tall hairy men as well. I have seen Garth again a number of times, and I sometimes feel sad that he is not more available, being trapped in an unhappy marriage. But despite the disadvantages of our situation, I wish to thank him for teaching me about the connection between feelings and sex.

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Mysteries of Anger, Attraction, and Lust

Trama

I am a 34-year-old single woman, five feet six and 130 lbs, with a slim but curvy figure.

I was divorced three years ago, after spending 10 years with a man who was unable to express any emotion. (I have since discovered that this is true of most men.) After about two subsequent years of totally enjoyable, indiscriminate fucking, I began to take stock of my situation. For a midwestern girl raised in a conservative rural town, I was finding sex to be an unlimited, always beautiful experience. However, something was missing.

I discovered what this was one warm April morning, when Garth, the husband of a business associate happened to come into my office. This rather surprised me, since we had very little trade with his organization. We conversed casually, and he invited me out for a drink after work. There was nothing unusual in this, except that for the next eight hours my fantasies ran wild.

I should say that physically Garth was not the type of man who turned me on. I like small, slender, short men, whereas he was tall, big, hairy and bearded, wore cowboy boots and smoked a pipe. I spent the rest of the day debating the pros and cons of fucking him.

The day finally ended, and I joined him at the bar of the motel where he was staying, with fucking still very much on my mind. After several drinks and much idle conversation, I found myself immensely interested in him: his size, his life, his being. I found myself resting my left hand on the back of the booth where he was sitting, and because of the closeness, it seemed only natural to rub his neck and hairline. At that point Garth finally asked if I wanted to fuck him — just like that!

His honesty was a super turn-on. I’d been horny before, and could always arrange to be screwed, but this was different; it was so blatant and deliberate. We started French-kissing right there in public. I reached under the table and began to gently massage his cock. I gradually became aware that a couple in the next booth was watching us and grinning approvingly, but I didn’t care; the risk of being seen made it still more exciting.

We finally went to his room for the most satisfying sexual experience of my life. Although I was somewhat frightened by his overall size and power, I was not only horny but curious.

After much foreplay, he began to suck me. His gentleness came as a real surprise to me. So did my unexpected anger.

I have always enjoyed oral sex, up to the point where it really begins to turn me on. Then it becomes too much for me to handle, and I find a way to manipulate my partner into a different position. But this time it didn’t work. Garth’s strength was overpowering. He held me down as he continued sucking me, his tongue moving in and out of my pussy, with occasional quick movements around my tender clitoris.

The more turned on I got, the more angry I became, until I was struggling for all I was worth. All the while, I was begging him to fuck me. He was holding my hands down close to my hips, and the only part of me that was mobile was my ass. But his mouth and head moved with me as I squirmed, and I could not get free. I was furious. I told him I hated all men, especially him. Not only had I lost all physical control, but all emotional control as well.

Eventually, however, my anger subsided and I quit struggling, feeling totally drained. The anger was slowly replaced by feelings of warmth, gentleness, and, for the moment, deep caring. It was as though I was experiencing something I’d never known before — total trust in another human being. At that point Garth turned my hands loose in unspoken acknowledgement of that trust.

I cannot even identify when my orgasm began and ended that night, but once it started it was continuous, like riding a slow, powerful wave up and down. Garth eventually came inside me and rolled over, whereupon I crawled on top of him and finished my orgasm by fucking his half-limp penis.

I could feel its stickiness inside me, and I loved the feeling. Contracting my vaginal muscles, I pulled it tight and played with it, quickly making it stiffen again. At the same time we began talking about how we felt, and describing our wildest fantasies.

That orgasm was the most memorable I have ever had. It had a gradual beginning, peaked when I struggled to be free and was completed when I felt totally relaxed, in charge and comfortable.

I still feel naturally drawn to short, slender men, but I have begun to enjoy tall hairy men as well. I have seen Garth again a number of times, and I sometimes feel sad that he is not more available, being trapped in an unhappy marriage. But despite the disadvantages of our situation, I wish to thank him for teaching me about the connection between feelings and sex.

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