Sometimes the best sex can come from the last plac

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Sometimes the best sex can come from the last plac
Though my other posts would indicate that all I was interested in my single days was eating out and having sex with curvy women with hairy pussies, believe it or not, in my early twenties I was also very into 19th Century English literature. I loved Dickens and read nearly everything he wrote before I turned 23. I also loved Jane Austen, particularly Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park. Trollope was another favorite of mine and I enjoyed The Warden and all books in that series.
In my early 20’s I used AOL to meet women, but at the same time I would go into chatrooms to discuss completely non-sexual interests with like-minded people. Television shows (like The Sopranos), movies, and in this case, 19th Century, English literature. I am not certain what I called it but I started a chatroom on this topic to discuss these books and authors with men and women who enjoyed and studied the same. As it happened, very few men entered this chat, but there were many women, some teachers/professors, some just bookworms like me, who came in and had very lively discussions with me.
One woman, Anna, spoke knowledgeably and passionately in the main room. I really liked her insights. Suddenly, she private messengered me and said something to the effect of, “I can’t believe your from Chicago too; I haven’t found anybody who likes the classics since I moved here.” We got to talking privately. Apparently, Anna had gone to Northwestern and stayed in Chicago after graduating. She was 22; I was 24. It turned out we did not live far from each other and after an hour of chatting about Dickens, Charlotte Bronte, and Oscar Wilde, she suggested we meet at a ‘bookish’ coffee shop with which I was familiar because she wanted to show me a collector’s edition. I too had a collector’s print of one of my favorite novels, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and I decided it would be a great opportunity to share it with someone who would really appreciate it. I was not even thinking about doing anything sexual with Anna; I had no idea what she looked like.
We met at the coffee shop at the decided hour. There was Anna with her medium sized zip case protecting her classic. There I was with a similar vinyl case protecting my Dorian Gray. What wasn’t expected was how cute she was. She had a kind of alternative hair style with a few streaks of pink in her naturally blond hair. Glasses in the style of the 1950’s. Her clothes looked particularly vintage – they could have been from the 1930’s based on some movies I’d seen. She was pleasantly plump with large breasts and an ass that was just a little wider than her ample bust. She wore a skirt that showed her legs to be wide yet athletic-looking. Basically she had a figure I was very used to on women with whom I had routinely had lovely times in sexual situations.
We talked and had tea. She showed me her classic which turned out to be a beautiful leather-bound early edition of Dickens’ David Copperfield. I showed her my Dorian Gray. We were mutually impressed with one another’s treasures. The setting was the perfect backdrop for this intellectual/aesthetic exchange. We were sitting on a 2-3 person sofa with a rickety coffee table in front of it. Of course, now the pussy-licking horn-dog I (and some of you) know me to be comes out and I start to think, ‘can I go back to her apartment or take her home with me?’ We had never brought up sex in our conversations, but I took a risk and said, “I probably shouldn’t bring this up, it’s very immature of me,” to which she interrupted and said, “No, there’s no such thing, say it.” I went on, “I can’t help but laugh with my 20th-21st Century frame of mind at how so many of these 19th Century authors use the word ‘ejaculate.’ ” Anna laughed heartily, “I know,” she said as she touched my knee, “It’s like anytime somebody says something out of anger or without thinking about it, it’s ‘quote’ ‘he ejaculated’ or ‘she ejaculated.’ ” My device worked both from her verbal response and her touch. I responded, “It’s like when did that word make the transfer from novels to sex ed. books?” Anna laughed again and said, “It would make an interesting research project. You just gave me a good idea for my graduate thesis.” It was now my turn to touch Anna. I placed my right hand on her bare knee and rubbed my thumb lightly over its smooth surface. Anna’s eyes closed, she moved a few inches closer to me and said, “Mmmm, this feels nice.” As she moved those few inches closer to me, you may not believe this, but I distinctly smelled a faint but familiar vaginal musk in the air. Had I been in one of our apartments I would have slid my fingers under her skirt to feel what I imagined to be her hot, moist pussy, but, of course, we were in public.

In my best British accent in an attempt to evoke Jane Austen’s Victorian era I said, “Would you mind very much if I were to kiss you, Anna?” “Why Mr. ______, you rogue,” with the same aristocratic English air was her witty response. She nonetheless moved forward and our lips met. It was very pleasurable and soon our pecking turned into French kissing. I said, “Would you like to continue this ‘discussion’ at one of our apartments?” “Well, I feel I’m Marianne to your Willoughby,” cleverly referencing a couple from Sense and Sensibility, “but, yes, I would like to continue this ‘oral interlude’ at my abode.” Smiling (and rock hard from her pun) I retorted, “Are you using the term ‘oral interlude’ in a 19th or 20th Century parlance?” “You’ll just have to come over and find out,” was her flirty response.

The tea having already been paid for at the counter we took her leave. Her apartment was walking distance (conveniently) so we strolled hand-in-hand to her place, talking quite innocuously about Victorian literature. When we got behind her door, I asked, “So now where should be continue our oral interlude?” Anna kicked off her shoes and replied, “I think the bedroom would be the proper place for our particular oral interlude,” and she guided me by the hand to her room and the bed within it. Anna’s bed indeed resembled that of a Victorian style. Lace coverlets, ruby colored spread, dense wood. And she even had a Tiffany style lamp on her night table. “Oh, we have to turn this on,” I remarked about her stained glass lamp, as I flicked it on. With a knowing grin, Anna said, “Oh I wouldn’t have it any other way.” So now I’m practically jizzing in my pants knowing that I’m going to have ample light to see Anna’s body and vagina in its full glory.

We resume kissing and soon both our tops come off. Anna has pendulous breast with huge pink aureola. They are gorgeous and I tell her so. “Why thank you,” she says as she scoops them up in both hands and places before my eager mouth to lick and suck. She’s slightly moaning as am I. I quip, “Well so far I’m really enjoying this oral interlude.” My hand is in its familiar spot on Anna’s knee. Her legs are spread and the one I have my hand on is hot. I move my hand up her thigh which is welcomed with a moan and rub her underwear with my index and middle fingers. They are lace (like her coverlet) and very hot and damp. Somehow I knew she wouldn’t object so I took my two fingers in plain view and grazed them under my nose. There was that same musk I inhaled in the coffee shop but about five times stronger. “Mmmm, just as I thought. If you taste as good as you smell, this is going to be one hell of an ‘oral interlude,’ “ I say echoing the theme. “Well, there’s only one way to find out how I taste down there …” she coyly suggests, as she unfastens her vintage skirt. Her legs spread I can see dirty blonde pubic hair girding the sides of her old-fashioned lace panties. I greedily remove her panties, press them to my nose and inhale deeply. As I’m doing this, Anna on her knees removes my belt and unfastens my pants. I take them all the way off along with my socks and briefs and place all of our clothes except her old-fashioned lace panties, beside the bed. The panties I dangled on my finger. Standing straight in front of her my fully erect penis stares her in the face with its one eye. Anna now says, “First it was old books, now it’s our genitals. It’s still ‘you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.’ ” “Speaking of which …” I say as I return to her bed, subtly placing her panties near me and then spread her legs and take the first view of her vagina. Anna’s pussy is gorgeous. A natural triangle of dirty blonde hair with strong bubblegum pink lips protruding and a pearl shaped clitorus. There is already grool collecting in its opening. Its opening is not gaping, but I could tell, that if oral turned into intercourse I would have little difficulty penetrating her heavenly folds. “It looks like what I always fantasied Marianne’s [from Sense and Sensibility] would look like.” “Yeah, she probably sported the full bush, but that’s where the similarities in our bodies end,” she said, implying that she knew her figure was much bigger than that of Marianne Dashwood’s. Wishing to restore her self confidence I said, “Perhaps, but I like your curviness much more than I would Marianne’s frame. If Marianne were as healthy as you, she wouldn’t have fallen so gravely ill in the second act.” “Oh ______, you always know the right thing to say,” she replied.

I now started eating concentrating on eating Anna’s pussy. Her odor was strong – it almost had a must of old books to it, but I found it tantalizing. It almost made me feel like (despite the punk hairdo) that I was really performing cunnilingus in the Victorian era. I lapped up her grool and kissed the hair flanking her labia minor. I spread her apart and inserted my tongue as deep as it would go into her vaginal opening. All the while I deeply inhaled her powerful musk. Not immediately, but gradually I licked and kissed her pearl of a clitorus to which she moaned and said, “My G-d, you’re really licking my vagina in earnest.” Recognizing her clever word play, I retorted, “I’ve always recognized an importance in being earnest.” She sighed and said, “I knew you’d get that.”
“I haven’t forgotten about what I saw 10 minutes ago,” Ella said, “You are very well-endowed, but I want to see if I can take your manhood in my mouth.” “Am I to infer that our ‘oral interlude’ continues on page 69?” I intone. “You are, kind sir.” she replied as she flipped her robust body over, hovered her hairy vagina over my face and licked the tip of my penis. “Ohhhh, that feels so good,” I moaned right before I resumed licking her upside down and gorgeous vagina. “You’re making it too easy for me,” she joked, “I was rather intimidated by your length and girth, but if all I have to do is lick the tip …” I replied, “Between the sight, smell and taste of your beautiful vagina and what you just did to my glans with your tongue, you’re right, you won’t have to work the hard.” “Well, I still like to challenge myself,” she responded, and then engulfed my manhood. When I say “engulfed,” Anna literally, with no hands, swallowed the length of my penis. Yes, she deep-throated me; I felt her lips touch my pubic hair and her nose on my testicles. She made an ever so slight gagging noise as my penis went down her esophagus, but let it flop out of her mouth on the upstroke and took a nice deep breath in preparation for her next dive. Dive she did, this time holding my cock down her throat for 10 seconds longer as she judiciously breathed through her nose. She did this five more times. After this fifth time I felt like I was just about at that point of no return. I took a break from eating her delicious, musky pussy to say, “Ohhhhh Anna, 10 more seconds of your fellatio and I’m going to ejaculate in the 20th Century meaning of the word,” I announce, “I don’t want to ruin your beautiful bedding and I don’t want you to have to swallow all of my sperm [tossing her still moist panties] why don’t you stroke me off into your panties?” “I have a better idea,” she says as she flips around facing me, “You sniff these and explode into my mouth [tossing her delicious panties back to me].”
I obey and seven seconds later with my cock firmly lodged down her throat she brought me to blissful orgasm. With her panties balled up and pressed against my nostrils I exclaim, “Ohhhhh, I’m going to ejaculate.” I start heaving jet after jet of semen down Anna’s espophagus. With her lamp light I’m able to see the face of a very calm, resolute Anna ingesting every ounce of semen I had to give her. When I finally finished I declared that to be the “best oral interlude of my life.”

Anna and I spooned in afterglow for about 10 minutes. I then had the opportunity to urinate which I did eagerly in her little bathroom because I knew it would allow me to ‘clear the pipes’ so to speak and have intercourse with her if she was game. Almost reading my mind when I returned, Anna said, “I’m glad you urinated. If you can go agin, ‘little Marianne’ is still hungry for your ‘Willoughby.’ That did it. I was rock hard again.
“I don’t know if Willoughby and Marianne ever engaged in this position, but would you mind if I penetrated you from behind?” I civilly requested, “You have such a beautiful posterior, I want to hold it as we fornicate.” “Well, as long as you use the word ‘fornicate,’ how can I refuse you?’”
Anna turned her big, round ass toward me and spread her cheeks open, revealing her pubic hair, mangy and wet with my saliva and her lady cum and her inviting vaginal opening. I rested my glans ever so briefly on the precipice of her cavern and then plunged balls deep inside of her. True to my word, I grabbed her hips and thrusted her ample posterior back and forth along my shaft. Anna’s pussy felt awesome and was so glad she didn’t ask me to use a condom. (I didn’t have any anyhow.) I withdrew all the way and plunged back in to the joyous sound of her queefing. “Oh, that’s so sexy,” I whispered. “Somehow I knew you wouldn’t be turned off by my lady farts,” she replied. We kept this up for another five minutes and Anna benevolently turned around to say, “This is really good.” “You feel awesome,” I replied. Soon Anna asked if she could get on top. I readily agreed and said, “We can do it in one move.” I inserted as deep as I could go, rolled onto my back with Anna now on top of me. Anna moaned and raised her rotund figure perpendicular to mine and started riding. Nice long strokes, excellent control. She’d just about have me pop out, but then plunge all the way back down so I was balls deep. Eventually she kept me in the deepest recesses of her vagina and ground down. Her breathing quickened and her moaning intensified. She was creating her own orgasm and I told her to keep it going so that she could climax. She did not know that it was a race against the clock because even though I had cum 25 minutes or so earlier, her grinding was going to make me cum again. Fortunately, shortly after this realization, she cried out, “Ohhhhhhhhh, there it is, I’m orgasming.” From the way her pubic muscles were tensing and flexing aginst my penis I am positive that she did. I was also positive that 10 more seconds of this and I would be orgasming too. I waited as long as I could and when I reached the peak of another intense orgasm I said, “Ugggghhhh, better take me out, I’m going to ejaculate again.” Now Anna cleverly grabbed the panties, placed them between our legs, hoisted herself off of my penis and jacked me off letting the semen ooze down my shaft and onto her panties.

Now in coital afterglow I asked her when she knew that we would be sexual together and not just book friends. She said, “While we were talking online. I thought, if he’s half-way decent looking, I’m going to want to bed him because he’s so knowledgeable about the literature I love. I don’t find too many people like that around here and certainly no men around my age. When did you?”

“Ironically, I didn’t go to the coffee shop with any expectations. I guess I had pre-conceived notions about what a female would look like who was into these books. But when I saw you I was instantly attracted to you. Your face is very pretty and you have the kind of figure I absolutely love. But I still thought you just wanted to talk Dickens and Austen and show me your David Copperfield. It was when you responded so positively to my 19th Century use the word “ejaculated,” that I got the first whiff of an impression that we might hook up. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I think you’ll recognize it as a compliment, but the second whiff was literally a “whiff.” When I touched your knee, I instantly smelled what I knew to be your vagina. At that point, I thought, “Oh my G-d, its on.”
Anna laughed out loud. “Oh Lord, yepp that happened. When you touched my knee, my vagina moistened. I smelled it, and I wondered if you did too. My best girlfriend says I shouldn’t wear skirts because it’s been known to happen when I get turned on.”
“No, don’t change a thing. You don’t want a guy who would be turned off by a beautiful scent like that.”
“That’s my same theory!!” Anna exclaimed. We cuddled for about an hour longer. I got up to leave and she said, “Don’t forget your Dorian Gray, which I had placed on a table next to her David Copperfield. Even though it was a generous gift, I like meeting Anna so much and she was so good in bed that I felt compelled to give it to her. “Don’t worry about it. You’re the k** of person who would truly appreciate it. It would have a happy home next to your David Copperfield. After much protestation on her part she finally relented and agreed to keep the book. I know, I know, the cynics among you will say that was her purpose in the first place. But I think she was genuine and I was happy to have bedded her and given her my book.

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