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By Lisa & Sharon (BYMSAP@AOL.COM)
Steve sat there watching the candle create sparkling images as it played through his glass of wine. Meanwhile the little demons of doubt kept trying to intrude on him and destroy his spirit. "Will she come? Will she change her mind? What will she really be like? Oh god, what if she doesn't come."
Steve had been chatting with Marsha online for several months. Though the time they had spent chatting could easily have been measured in hours, both felt as though they had known the other all their lives. They had talked about everything. The triumphs and tragidies in their lives. Their passions and Steve's plumbing. His kids and her kids. Politics and..... . Well let's forget the politics. But from the first time they had chatted there seemed a special affinity between them.
The more they chatted the more each realized that they fundamentally ENJOYED each other. Of course each had gone through the usual online worries that accompany 'terminal' relationships. Is this person at the other end of this line actually what they say? Can I really trust this person? But time had slowly dispelled their fears. They had even talked on the phone and discover- ed that they liked the sound of each other.
And now they were actually going to meet.
At least that was the idea. They had agreed to meet in the lounge of a hotel at a 'neutral' city. Friday night, 7 o'clock. Marsha would know Steve from a picture he had sent her, but as Marsha had never sent Steve a picture of herself (she really hated most pictures of herself and didn't want Steve to see her in what she felt to be 'less than an ideal light'), so Steve was going on the description of herself that she had sent him, and of the outfit she said she would be wearing.
A half hour before the appointed time, Steve had taken up his lonely reconnaissance in the hotel lounge. Every set of approaching footsteps had started his heart beating just a little faster. "Is that her?", he would wonder. Of course it would not be and he would settle back into his chair and continue his vigil. It was now 7:10, and while he was far from abandoning his post, new doubts and worries became to plague him. "Is she Ok? Was she in an accident?" Steve tried to purge his mind of these thoughts as he watched the shimmering little puddles of colored light dancing on the tabletop as the candlelight refracted through the wine.
There she was. It was that abrupt. She wasn't there, and then suddenly there she stood in the doorway to the lounge. Steve just stared for a moment. The rest of the lounge, the other patrons, all faded into some grey background as he focussed on the one thing in his life that mattered at this particular moment. It HAD to be her. he brown slacks. The white sweater. The hair. The height. It just had to be her. And she was so beautiful! No, she wasn't some supermodel or anything. To anyone else she would be pleasantly attractive, but to Steve the beauty of her soul that he had come to know through their talks radiated from her. There was a softness and tenderness to her, to her eyes, to her face that transcended the purely physical. She stood there surveying the lounge, trying to pick out that one person that had become so special to her. That one person that could motivate her to do this. To come to a strange hotel, to meet a strange man. And stranger still, a man that she knew in her heart that, barring some incredible catastrophy, she would soon be making love to.
Just as he started to rise, Marsha noticed him. Though she had seen his picture, the reality was ten thousand times better. His smile. The joy he projected as he looked at her. She walked over to him and they just stood for a moment, gazing into each others eyes and completely oblivious to anything transpiring around them. Finally one managed a "Hi" which earned a "Hi yourself" from the other as they stood there smiling foolishly at each other like a couple of kids.
'"Can I get you a drink?", Steve asked as they finally sat down. "Sure!", Marsha replied noticing his wine glass, "Whatever you're having."They chatted inanely for a few minutes about their travels to the hotel, about the weather, about god only knows what since each was so nervous and yet so thrilled to be with the other that neither could really have testified under oath just what the conversation was about.
Finally Steve put his hand over Marsha's. The electricity in that simple contact was tremendous. After the hours of talking, discussing, flirting. After the hours of dreaming and fantasizing, the simple caress of his fingertips over the back of her hand was more intense than a thousand orgasms. "Marsha?", Steve asked as she looked into his eyes. "Let's go upstairs." Her eyes lowered demurely and a little smile played across her lips as she sweetly said, "Ok."
The elevator ride, while only up one floor, felt as long as a flight to Australia. Neither Steve nor Marsha minded though. For each, the mere presence of the other, after so much time apart spent wondering and thinking and fanatsizing, was an incredible narcotic. Though Marsha had known that he was tall, dark haired, and good looking, she hadn't been prepared for the shear sense of 'presence' that Steve generated. He was 6 feet tall. Not overly tall as men go and not short either. Yet he gave the impression of being such a 'big' man. Someone you wouldn't want mad at you or confronting you in a dark alley. And yet there was a gentleness about him. Marsha hadn't quite fully defined it. It was something in the way he looked at her, in the way he held her hand, in the way he just made her feel special and warm and tingly. While Marsha was lost in her thoughts, Steve too was contemplating this magnificent woman by his side. Half a foot shorter than he, he was already completely lost in the way her eyes would glance up into his. Her hair was a little shorter than he had imagined, but he longed to hold her close and bury his nose in it. To feel its soft fullness and intoxicate himself with its sweet scent. Hers wasn't the tight body of a teenager. Instead she possessed the moist lush body of a woman. She wasn't heavy, just soft and round and full where a woman should be soft and round and full.
She was not overly busty but Steve was far happier with that. He far preferred her kind of figure to one that was 'top heavy'. He loved breasts, but he definitely leaned towards quality rather than quantity.
The elevator door opened and Steve and Marsha walked the short distance to his room. Once there, with the door shut and bolted behind them they finally approached each other. No words were spoken for none were needed. Steve reached up and lightly stroked Marsha's face. Her eyes closed and she moaned softly as she tilted her face into the cupping support of Steve's hand. She opened her eyes and drew him to her as his arms enfolded her. Their lips met, softly and gently at first, then with growing animation and passion. They moaned into each others mouths as their lips caresssed and nibbled, and their tongues explored and probed. An eternity, consisting of but a few moments, passed as Steve and Marsha divorced themselves from this plain of existance and brought themselves briefly into another dimension where all that existed was their love and desire, their passion and their need.
Then that magic moment of sexual transition happened. While passionately exploring each other's lips, Steve brought his right hand up and gently cupped Marsha's breast. What had up until then been a fire between two people, became an inferno between a man and a woman. Steve wanted her as a woman. He needed her as a woman. And Marsha revealed in his desire for her. She moaned and ground her breast into his hand that he could clutch and squeeze her breast even more strongly. She could feel the itch and the throbbing that had been brewing in her pussy rocket out of control as she thrust her lower body harder against him.
She could feel the boulder that was forming in Steve's pants. That luscious column of man flesh that she knew SHE was causing to rise and become rigid. The beautiful column of male hardness that she knew within a short time would be buried to its maximum within her woman hole, stretching her and filling her. Throbbing out its passion deep within her as Steve's gushing warmth flooded and drowned the unrequited lust for him that had raged for so long.
Soon Steve gripped the waist of her sweater and pulled it up. Up over the smooth flesh of her stomach, up over the rounded globes of her breasts, and up over her head and off. They immediately smashed their bodies together again, kissing frantically and holding each other as though any moment they might be snatched way from each other for all eternity. They finally separated just enough for Steve to pull off his own shirt and jerk his pants and briefs off in one quick smooth motion. Marsha had meanwhile loosen her slacks and pushed them down and off.
They came together again, again desperately holding each other and losing themselves in the interplay of their lips. Marsha could now feel Steve's massive column of flesh stabbing into her belly. She could feel the moisture of Steve's own lubrication juices being smeared over her stomach, just as she could feel her own woman's juices flooding from her pussy and soaking the white panties she still had covering and guarding her sex.
In a sudden move, Steve spun Marsha about so that she was facing the mirror above the dresser. He pulled her back against himself tightly and his arms wrapped around her and his head bent to gently suck and nibble at her ear and her neck. His hands roamed hungrily up and down her arms, sliding over her breasts still en- cased in a satiny bra that matched her little white panties, and down over her hips until they had brushed over the soft mound of woman fur still trapped at the junction of her thighs. With a deft and deliberate movement, Steve release the clasp of her bra and quickly slid it off her shoulders and then off her body altogether.
God He thought her breasts were beautiful. Soft and round, with nipples standing up like little pencil erasers, waiting to be licked and sucked and handled and caressed. He cupped them in his hands, squeezing them and rolling then on Marsha's chest. She in turn moaned out her own deep desire and thrust herself to him even harder as if to say, "They are yours my love. Crush them. Love them. Use them. Let them give you pleasure!." He rubbed her breasts and rolled her nipples until she thought she might pass out from the intensity of the feelings that were rocketing through her breasts and shooting between her breasts and her cunt. His hands suddenly left her breasts and in a smooth motion slid down over the soft, smooth plain of her stomach until his thumbs hooked the waistband of her panties and quickly slid them down over her hips and down her thighs until they reached a point where they could continue their descent to the floor on their own.
Now when one hand returned to Marsha's soft beautiful breasts, Steve's other hand slid up over her thigh and dipped between her legs to cup the swollen juicing mound of her vulva. In the mirror's reflection they could both see Steve's strong arms completely enveloping her. His hands were filled with her tits and her twat, the twin glories of her sex. Those most special, magical, mysterious parts of a woman's body that since time began could reduce the largest and most powerful of men to insignificant quivering masses.
His throbbing hardness pulsing against her butt telegraphed to her the extent of his arousal and the measure of his passion.
Finally Marsha tore herself away and flung herself on the bed. "Please darling", she panted, "Love me." Steve looked at this goddess who was offering herself to him. The soft beautiful curves and contours of her body. The beckoning lips between her thighs. And most marvelous of all, the look of love and ache for him that was in her eyes. He looked at the beauty of her woman's body open and waiting for him. He knew that during other times he would linger over the softness of her breasts. That other times he would spend hours between her legs devouring the wet pulpy softness of her pussy. That he would take all night if need be giving her orgasm after orgasm until her beautiful body was totally maxed out on sex. But right now he needed her.
He needed her terribly. He needed to sink his throb- bing column of cock between the soft sweet folds of her pussy. He needed to feel her sex lips flower open to receive his cock, and then ripple their way along the length of his dick as he sank it to its depths inside her. And Marsha shared those feelings. God did she share them. She needed to feel Steve enter her. Needed to feel him plunge into her and fill her with the joy and glory of his manhood. She wanted him inside her until his passion and desire exploded and flooded her womb with his thick hot seed.
"Now, baby, now!", Marsha urged as she pulled her legs up and apart. Her sex hole flowered open and was totally exposed to Steve's gaze and his desires. Each as desperate as the other for their flesh to merge, Steve leaned over Marsha and brought the head of his dick to the open flower of her cunt. The head nestled between the splayed lips of her sex and he gently but firmly began to push his prick against the opening to her vagina. Her lips parting and sliding over the head of his cock was like nothing else he had ever experienced. Slowly, inch by inch, his cock slid into the hot open maw of her hungry voracious cunt.
Marsha meanwhile let out a long, low throaty moan as she felt the magnificent hardness of Steve's cock plowing into her depths. She could feel herself being spread open to permit the passage of his large throbbing cockhead, and she could feel that head burrowing its way deeper and deeper into her cunt, her most secret, sexual, female place.
God it felt good inside her. After all her time of worrying that she might not please him, here he was, pleasing the ever loving hell out of her, and knowing that she was doing exactly the same for him!
The magnificent penetrating journey ended as Marsha felt the head of his cock plunge to the depths of her core and the soft bristly hairs around the base of his cock grind against her own lush fur. Slowly the movement of his cock reversed as the inward thrust became an outward pull. The lips of her pussy were dragged outward by the pressure and desperately clung to the escaping penis as if to say, "Don't go. Not yet!"
Just when Marsha thought that his throbbing erection might be stolen from her altogether, with just the tip of his massive hardon still nestled between her sex folds, Steve reversed himself and again sank his stiff piledriver into Marsha's depths. The pace which began so slowly and gently, picked up cadence as his rigid cock pumped in and out of her juicing hole. Long deep strokes that increased in strength and frequency.
Marsha could feel his cock swelling even greater inside her. She couldn't believe that anything could feel that big, that hard, that delicious! Steve's entire being was rapidly reducing itself to the several square inches of flesh that was desperately pumping in and out of Marsha's magnificent cunt. Deeper, harder, faster. They could not get enough of the pounding, throbbing merging of their most private parts.
Just as Marsha felt that her brain might explode from the intensity of the feelings gushing forth from her cunt, she felt Steve bury himself into her as deep as he could possible go. His entire body stiffened and shuddered as she felt that magnificent cock buried so deep inside her begin to swell and throb as it pumped jet after jet of hot male juice deep into her folds.
She tightened her own pelvic muscles around his spurting dick and felt the waves of her own orgasm smash over the top of the dam which had been holding them back. Every muscle in her body quivered as she felt the powerful throbs of her own release radiate outward from the core of her cunt. All she could do was lock her arms and legs around him, dig her fingers into his back, and desperately moan her way through the most powerful and magnificent orgasm she had ever experienced.
Minutes passed as the two semi-comatose individuals allowed the final ripples of their orgasms to pass over and through them, and ultimately to disapate. Finally, the two drained shells of Steve and Marsha rolled slightly apart, still gazing intently at each other and occasionally allowing a silly, but very satisfied, grin to cross their faces."So......, Marsha finally uttered. "Wad about dem Lakers!" Steve replied and they both laughed, sharing one of their oldest private jokes.
The two phrases that each would employ in their "online" days when they were stumped for something to say, or needed to change the subject. Only this time there was no chaging the subject, and as for something to say? Well their lips were already busy.
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