An Internet Romance

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I had been single for two years by the time of this story. Aside from the occasional encounter, I had spent that two years fucking as many cute Asian hookers as I had time for. I lost count after about 120. A couple became close. One moved in for a while and carried out her business activities in the spare room – no problem for me; I love a warmed up pussy!

Anyway, I joined an internet dating site and enjoyed about a year of cheeky, provocative profiles that, while arousing not a little hostility from some redneck ladies and men, nevertheless occasionally delivered some success.

But one day I changed it to a relatively straight-forward, factual and frank explanation of the circumstances surrounding my marriage break-up, nearly two years past, by then, including 8 years looking after a seriously ill wife.

Yes, I was figuring I would score a sympathy fuck or two…why not? Anyway, sure enough, an email arrived:

Subject: Welcome to the tortured souls club

Message: Good grief! Personally, I’m looking to leave my torturous past well behind! And what is truth, anyway? A wild fantasy life? Hmmm. From one who gets out there on occasion too. Belle.

So, Perhaps readers can detect that I still had a bit of cheek in my profile…and in that vein, I replied:

OK. I’m obviously going to have to rewrite my profile. Tortured soul? Maybe we could cuddle in a bed made warm by our lovemaking and concoct a new one, two wannabe writers together. How’s that for an “out there” line? Mind you, casino oyna after reading your list of requirements, the best I can say is that I meet some of all your criteria, but, I’m afraid to say, all of none. But that’s not to say we can’t have fun, eh? As for truth or fantasy, let me just say that rather than a wild fantasy, I’m enjoying the fantastically wild. I’m sure you can spot the difference. Thanks for the feedback. And for making me think. Luke.

And that, I thought, would be that.

But soon, quite soon, this email arrived (paraphrasing from here on, dear reader):

Well, yes, you are definitely into “out there” lines. My requirements are just the ideal. My expectations are more realistic. But they have been a good filter as I don’t get contact from non-intelligent, non-confident men. Fantastically wild sounds…appetizing.

To which I replied: …and I suggest you now fulfill your appetite for the fantastically wild. It could be fantastic!

Her reply was to the point: I like to get to know a man a bit before I fuck him.

And within a short time, folks, we met at the city Casino.

At the Casino that day, Bathurst Sunday (V8 car racing), she was late, which, I was to discover, is normal for her. When we finally found each other by the fountain, first impressions were underwhelming, for both. However, we spent a nice couple of hours chatting, finding common interests in teenager stories – make that gripes! – a shared world view, and similar interests in writing…and it was canlı casino nice. Plus I was quietly keeping an eye on The Great Race. When it came time for her to leave I validated her parking ticket and paid the $5.00 fee and escorted her to her car in the concrete jungle (I later discovered these solicitous actions impressed her greatly). We had both agreed to think on it for a couple of weeks…fine by me. At her car she proffered her cheek for a perfunctory bye-bye kiss. Bugger that! I just hit her lips, full on, the full monty. That worked!

And what lips they were. Lovely and soft and full. Luscious lips. For the first time in the evening I thought: Whoa! I hope this goes somewhere, I really do. After a few minutes of increasingly passionate kissing I guided her to her car door-she had to go home to a sick son so I was out of luck for sure, that night-and I was keen to get back to the race. Then, she couldn’t find her keys…then couldn’t find her ticket…her panties must have been soaked…but she finally drove off.

About half an hour later, at the bar, the race nearly over, I received a text telling me how disturbed and horny she was feeling. Cool, I thought. When I got home and checked my mail, this was in my inbox:

(Home email address) (Home ph no) (Work ph no) Still quite disturbed. Don’t want to wait two weeks. I think I will make time. Unless my enthusiasm scares you off, of course. How about Friday evening?

Fine by me. I had a second date with a horny redhead, who loved it up her arse, kaçak casino Tuesday night, so Friday was perfect…

Unexpectedly, Wednesday, I finished work early i.e. on time, so, on the basis of you don’t get if you don’t ask I sent a text to Belle: “erly finish 2day. tired tho. hm 2 rest.”

I was tired, too. The redhead had arrived about 8.00pm and we had gone straight to bed. She left about 3.00am…she’s quite a goer!

Anyway, Belle’s reply to my text was very quick: “wots ur address?”

It was almost exactly 6.00pm when rang my doorbell. I opened the door, she walked straight in, I closed the door, and we joined our lips in a passionate, erotic, very wet kiss.

Soon, very soon, Belle asked me where the bedroom was. I guided her to my little pleasure palace and immediately started to undress her. She helped me to disrobe her. Then she lay back on the bed and opened her legs, just like that. I removed my clothes, leaving my jeans to last so she could see my really stiff cock springing free. Then I leant over her and pushed my cock into her pussy.

I tell you, readers, it was the hottest pussy I have ever fucked. I am talking temperature here, science. Her pussy was literally burning with desire. And sopping wet.

I just went for it and fucked her until my cum was running out of her pussy. We then talked for a while, had a couple of beers, and then she asked me to fuck her up her arse. Bingo! Two nights in a row! Woohoo!.

We soon moved in together and my next story will explain how we became fully fledged swingers.

Belle here: By the way, we are both writers. We have to go now. Luc wants me to lower my dripping pussy onto his waiting cock. Do you want a turn?

:kiss: :kiss:

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