She motioned for me to sit down. She sat down next to me, turned, faced me and kissed me again. We quickly realized that at our age, our bodies weren’t as supple as they needed to be in order to neck while sitting next to each other. She sat up and then in one smooth move, daring in retrospect, spun 180 degrees and crawled on top of my legs, straddling me, facing me. At the same time, I slid down the couch a bit, slouching, lying back at nearly a 45 degree angle.
Her arms fell naturally to her sides, my hands naturally moved to her hips, and we looked at each other, examining the nooks and crannies of each others faces.
“So, hi!” I grinned.
She smiled, and without saying a word, leaned forward and began to kiss me again.
First my forehead, then the bridge of my nose, the tip, over to one cheek, then, finally, brushing her lips across mine, softly, almost imperceptibly. I lay back, enjoying her attentions, enjoying the ability to be 100% the recipient for once.
As her lips made another pass across mine, they lingered, and we explored the delicate sensations afforded the slightest of contact. As we kissed, our lips opened slightly, then a bit more, and then more again. Each time, contact became a bit firmer, until we were pressed tightly together.
Our tongues reached toward each other as well, adding another dimension to our passion, the feelings accentuated due to minimal contact of our bodies. Except for her sitting on my thighs, we weren’t touching anywhere else at all, which made our kissing all the more sensual. It was almost a sensory deprivation experiment, not being distracted by our bodies or hands involved in the scene.
Soon, though, that experiment was over, as my right hand slid up from her hip to her back to her shoulder blade, and I pulled her into me. She willingly went along, adjusting her position on my thighs to accommodate my actions. Pulling her closer, our kissing became more heated, our tongues explored each other more actively.
I felt her hair draped across my face, surprisingly stimulating me, instinctively causing my other hand to squeeze her hip, then slowly caress the back pocket of her jeans. She responded by grinding into my legs, as if to ask me to continue.
With that tacit invitation, my hands started moving over her, exploring everything about her that wasn’t R-rated.
All the while, I was wondering if I should try touching her more personally, or if I should wait for her to explicitly signal me.
We had exchanged close to a hundred messages, and some PG rated pictures. A couple that were very much more suggestive than PG. There was clearly sexual tension there, even before I walked in the door.
Seeing her, finding that she was prettier, softer, warmer than even her pictures showed, and evidently she liked what she saw as well.
In our emails, we had talked about things we missed in our marriage, French kissing being one of them, so it wasn’t long before our tongues were exploring each other; it’d been a long time for both of us. And the heat from hugging someone you were attracted to kept growing.
She worked the evening shift at the local poison control center, and as a result had a lot of time on her hands during the evening as well as a lot of risque stories. One recurring story was about a guy who kept calling about his erection, evidently he ate Viagra like they were M&Ms, and called the PCC regularly with this issue or that, and all of the girls on the phones traded stories about “Mr Penis”. So those stories segued in a number of explicit conversations as well.
So there we are making out on her couch, and finally my hands wander over her back and I realize she’s not wearing a bra, just a spaghetti strap camisole under a tank top under a sweater. Well. THAT is… interesting.
When she sees that I have discovered her choice of apparel was a little forward and inviting, she drove herself into me a little harder, feeling me rub against her. At the same time, my hands slipped down to her hips, then to her ass, and pulled her into me.
We made out passionately for another 10 or 15 minutes, our hands wanting to get very friendly, but realizing we just met, and that would be so tawdry. At the same time, it was getting quite warm, and she leaned back and pulled her sweater off.
OMG.
The women I’d been with before had all been modestly built. As they say, “More than a mouthful is a waste” and I was good with that. So I was now faced with a brand new experience, a brand new treat.
I’d had the idea that she was more well endowed than my past experiences, but I had no idea how much more. And now I was finding out, right here in front of me.
Her camisole and tank top were thin enough and tight enough to give me a delightful view. The material hugged her breasts, outlined her curves, left just a little to the imagination. My eyes took all of her in. She watched my eyes, threw her shoulders back, and showed off for me, shaking her shoulders a bit, and then as she stopped jiggling, her excitement became visible through the thin material.
At that, I was fully erect. Fortunately, I had positioned myself pointing up before I walked in, so that as I grew, it could extend upwards along my stomach, where there was room, instead of being bent over and making things uncomfortable. So she felt the ridge under my zipper, and took advantage of it, rocking back and forth on my lap, encouraging me to grow as well as doing the best she could to stroke me via grinding. And I could tell that my ridge was hitting her in just the right spot as well.
We weren’t ‘over the edge’ yet, but we were clearly close, and enjoying the dangerous position, wondering how long the foreplay would continue, and what might follow it.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/bo6fn8/surviving_my_first_craigslist_encounter_f_pt_2