After more than a year of chatroom meetings and e-mail correspondence, I finally had an opportunity to meet my online friend Karen. We had exchanged jokes, happy and sad times, even photos. We had even gone so far as swapping very personal selfies, mine of me stepping from the shower, and hers was a shot of her lying on her bed, naked, crooking her finger in a come here gesture matching the look from her pretty green eyes. I had used that picture on many a night, looking forward to the day when I would actually see Karen in the flesh. I had once told her that I did this, and she said that she was flattered!

I made arrangements to stay at a nearby hotel, planning the evening with meticulous, almost obsessive care. I was determined to minimize the chances of anything going wrong. When I arrived at the hotel, I immediately stripped the bed, neatly folding the expensive cotton sheets and storing them in the closet. I remade the bed with a blood red set of satin sheets, carefully laying out roses on the pillow. I set up a small stereo, popping in a CD I had made just for this occasion. Some of the songs were romantic, Elvis, Buble; some suggestive, Lets Spend The Night Together by the Rolling Stones, Hurts So Good by Mellencamp, and culminating in Love, At Last, a downright dirty instrumental by Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin, featuring the sounds of them making love.

Then there were the votive candles that he strategically placed around the room that would create as romantic an atmosphere as he could imagine, including several around the huge soaker tub in the ensuite.

I showered and shaved, including my sac, splashing on Eternity aftershave that she had said was a favorite. Sliding on black silk boxers, I noticed a droplet of pre-cum at the tip of my cock. I sincerely hoped that all these preparations wouldn’t be in vain. Only time would tell.

It was time to call her and I punched her number into my cell, getting more nervous each time it rang. Then a sultry voice said “Studio 54 Intimates, this is Victoria.”

I asked to speak to Karen, and after a brief moment she came on the line. “Karen” I said, “Its Grey! Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready all day!” she replied suggestively. “Truth be told, I feel like a kid in a candy store! And I’ve changed twice, if you know what I mean.

Smiling at the image in my head of her standing there in damp panties, I said, “I’m just as excited as you are. Let’s stop prolonging the agony. I’ll pick you up in five!”

I arrived at the display window of the shop, admiring the set-up facing the street. It had a bold red fainting couch with a red haired mannequin stretched out wearing a matched bra and panty set. Steel gray satin with white lace trim. Quite sexy! Propped in the mannequin’s hands was a copy of 50 Shades! It made me wonder what she had on.

I stepped inside and was greeted by a live redhead dressed up to the nines. A cream colored floral print cut above the knee, showing off as fine a pair of legs as I’ve ever seen. The crisscrossed bodice showed off a hint of black lace and ample cleavage without looking cheap. My cock twitched as I took it all in.

I must have stared too long, because she laughingly said, “Don’t drool! It’s unbecoming!”

I quickly recovered, relying, “Karen, your photo doesn’t do you justice! You are absolutely stunning! You look like a queen.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls!” She handed me her coat, calf length hunter green with a black velvet collar, and I helped her on with it. “Please lock up Vicky, I won’t be back tonight!”

Smiling a knowing smile, Karen’s assistant replied, “You better not!”

Dinner was at a small, intimate place just down the street. We sat in a quiet corner ordered drinks and dinner, making small talk as we ate. We spoke of family, work, and future plans. As first dates go it was very typical, both of us avoiding any potentially disastrous subject matter. At least until the waiter, overly attentive, and always positioned where he could look down Karen’s top. At one point, I said, somewhat annoyed, that he needed to pay more attention to his other tables and less attention to her chest.

Putting her hand over mine on the table, Karen reassured me. “That’s OK, Grey. That’s all he’s getting from me tonight.” Adding, “Did you want some desert?”

The tension being broken, I smiled and replied, “What I want for desert, they don’t serve here!”

Squeezing my hand, she said. “If you play your cards right, you just might get what you want.”

I paid the check and we walked to my hotel for a nightcap. She reminded me that she had to work in the morning and shouldn’t stay out too late. I smiled and said nothing as I opened the hotel room door. Her jaw dropped as she stepped in and saw all the votives burning, casting a romantic glow around the room. Turning to me she said, “This is wonderful, but you forgot something.”

A look of total panic crossed my face. “What did I forget?”

Taking my face in her hands, she replied. “To kiss me!” And she did, slowly, gently at first, our lips barely brushing. I thought for a moment that I’d starch my shorts! She put her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts to my chest and grinding her pelvis against my freshly formed hard-on, and mashed her lips to mine. I recovered quickly, my tongue snaking between her soft lips, past her teeth and deep into her mouth.

It was probably only ten seconds, but felt like an eternity, as our tongues fenced, she sucked mine and I, hers, before we broke the kiss and I invited her to sit down. She sat. I sat. She said, “That was fun! Let’s do it again!”

I pulled her to me, my hand in the middle of her back, and we kissed again, this time less urgently.

I felt her hand on my thigh and slid my hand from her back to her breast. I could feel the firm flesh of her blouse covered nipple against my palm as she moaned into my mouth. Her hand slid up my leg until it covered the bulge in my trousers. She began to rub and squeeze and I reciprocated by massaging the soft breast under my hand. Even though I was sadly out of practice, I was able to unbutton enough of her blouse to get my hand inside, slipping under her bra, feeling the soft heat of her breast against my fingers.

I heard the hiss of a zipper and felt her hand on my manhood as she fished it out of my boxers: making it twitch with delight as her fingers wrapped around my shaft.

Whispering in my ear as I nibbled on hers, she said, “I think I’m ready for desert now.” She gave me a little squeeze. Moving her head to my lap, she smiled as she gazed at my member, a droplet of pre-cum formed at the head. Extending her tongue, she swiped the pearly liquid from my slit, adding. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” She ovalled her lips, sliding them over my helmet, and sucked on the dusty rose mushroom.

“Ohhhh God!” I moaned as my fingers rolled around her nipple in response to her oral assault on my cock.

She moaned as her lips travelled down my length, her tongue flicking against that sensitive spot where crown and shaft meet. I was having trouble concentrating on her breast, and she knew it. The corners of her cock filled mouth turned up in a triumphant smile as she bobbed and slurped.

“You’re going to make me cum,” I moaned as she continued to tease me with her lips on my shaft and tongue teasing my sweet spot.

Suddenly she stopped, slipping off my spit soaked cock. “That’s the whole point!” she said, rubbing the underside of my manhood with her thumb. “Now cum for me Gray! I need it!”

I couldn’t resist any longer. Grunting like an animal, I raised my hips, my helmet touching her lips and let go. My cock erupted, warm cum spewing from the slit in my cockhead, dripping down my shaft onto her fist. Opening her mouth, she covered the head as it continued to pour warm white sperm onto her eager tongue.

She sat up, licking the cooling goo from her fingers. “What would you like for desert, Grey?”

Dropping from the couch to the floor, I said nothing. I flipped up her skirt. There, inches from my face, were black lace panties. See through enough to stir the imagination without revealing everything, and right in the middle, a dark damp spot. Sliding my hand up her fair skinned thigh, my fingers danced over the lacey fabric, my thumb concentrating on the damp spot, in an effort to make it more wet. “You have remarkable taste in underwear Karen.” I whispered, my eyes glued to the fabric covering her treasure.

Her hand on the back of my head, she replied, “Did you say taste? Well, go ahead! Taste me!” She slid down in the seat, pressing her panty clad pussy tightly against my nose. For the first time, her scent entered my head as the bridge of my nose pressed into the crease of her amply moist sex. My cock twitched in response.

I moaned as her sweet musk intoxicated me. I opened my mouth and began to suck on the fabric of her lingerie. “Take them off, Grey. They’re yours to keep.”

Lifting my head from her crotch, I thanked her as I rolled them off her hips, slowly exposing her orange racing stripe, then her glistening cunt lips. I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight in front of me. I continued to stare even after I had stuffed the panties into my pocket.

Spreading her legs wide, she asked, “Are you going to stare at it all night, or are you going to eat it?”

I kissed her left thigh, then her right, then the left again, moving slowly closer. The air was filled with the mixture of her personal scent and her perfume as I kissed each side of her hairless cameltoe. I sucked on the hood of her clit, my tongue flicking over the sensitive nub of her clit as my nose combed through the tuft of orange hair. I could feel, as well as hear her moans, her hands holding my head against the softness of her cunt. I looked up, seeing her face framed by her disheveled dress. A vision of loveliness, made all the better by the touch of her femininity, the taste and scent of her. To my surprise, my hardness had returned. I stabbed my tongue between her lips, getting a fresh taste. She squirmed, her hips rolling, her juices smearing onto my nose and chin.

I was determined to make her cum, more than once if possible. My left hand drifted up her torso to her exposed right breast. I kneaded it with my hand, the soft flesh warm to the touch, her hardened nipple pressing into my palm. My tongue separated her moist lips from bottom to top, refreshing her taste with each swipe. Both her hands fisted in my hair, preventing me from leaving, as if I wanted too! I was a willing prisoner of her luscious cunt, feathering her clit, gently chewing on her succulent, tasty, musky, womanhood.

Her moans got louder, more demanding. “Ohh fuck! Right there! Yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Make me cum!” I insinuated two fingers into her wetness, curling them against her g-spot. Her breathing got ragged. Her grip on my head tightened. ”Oh God! Oh God! Eat me! Eat me, Grey! Don’t fucking stop!” Her juices flowed more freely. I looked up again, in time to see her face set in the rictus of orgasm, her lips set in a silent O as her cunt freshened, washing my face with her precious liquid treasure.

Triumphantly, I renewed my attack on her virtue, digging my fingers deep inside, caressing her g-spot with my fingertips, rasping her clit with my tongue while tweaking her turgid nipple. My reward was to feel her clamp her thighs tight to my head, thrust her hips against my face, and cumming in a rush, demanding, “Fuck me, Grey! Fuck me now!”