That unforgettable Sunday morning with Krazy Girl – Final part

With an almost callous indifference I slipped that finger up her arse. It slid in easily; her butt-hole was already moist by itself.

“Naughty,” is all she wheezed, before closing her eyes and resuming biting her bottom lip.

Still playing with her clit which miraculously remained wet from her seemingly endless supply of pussy juices, I gently fingered her arse, pushing deeper in it with each metronomic thrust. I had never done this before, well, not like this, I didn’t know what I was doing. Yes, thumb-in-bum during doggy-style I had done, but nothing as blatant as this. I won’t lie to you; I liked it. I liked the audacity of it, the rawness, the intimacy, the honesty and, yes, the naughtiness of it.

Krazy Girl’s back arched up and she cupped her mouth with both her hands, her eyes wide, her breasts bouncing as she finally came. She suppressed her scream and it must have hurt her throat. It was that kind of orgasm.

Thank God for that, I thought, slowly pulling my finger out of her arse and relaxing my aching left hand. I looked at my right hand’s index finger, expecting it to be covered in a runny chocolate substance, but it was clean with just a hint of an odour.

From the room next door we heard a commotion, followed by two sets of footsteps in the passageway and a deliberately loud slamming of the front door. Good riddance.

Now I had a chance to go to the bathroom to wash my hands, so I stood up and for the first time became aware of my erection. It was about the size of Scotland. Krazy Girl noticed it too and she grabbed it and started enthusiastically sucking on it.

I stood by the side of that bed, with my hands help up in the air the way surgeons do after having scrubbed up, except that my hands were covered in pussy juices and anal bacteria, as the most physically perfect women I had ever seen naked sucked my cock like her life depended on it.

“Stay there, don’t you move,” she said as she quickly swung around and presented her backside to me, then reached back with a hand and grabbed hold of my cock.

What the hell is she going to do now, I thought to myself. Oh jeez, she’s not going to…oh fuck…not while she’s on her period…I really don’t like that…I’d done that once with my ex-girlfriend and really didn’t like it.

I was wrong.

Krazy Girl reversed onto my cock with her arsehole.

My cock slipped so easily and smoothly into her arse that it surprised me. That little hole was able to stretch that much and so easily?

Then it dawned on me…

Oh my God, had I just joined the AIDS club?!

You see, I grew up in South Africa, a fascist police-state when I was a kid. Pornography was illegal and sex was a taboo subject. I hadn’t heard of anal sex until my late teens and it came with a terrible stigma. It was considered totally immoral, for deviants and homosexuals only (in those days being homosexual was a crime that came with a lengthy jail sentence). Anal sex was not something that “normal” heterosexual couples ever did. It was considered unhealthy and highly dangerous. The acronym A.I.D.S was jokingly referred to as “Arsehole Injected Death Sentence”. It wasn’t something that I had a burning desire to do with a woman, but I’ll confess that I had wondered a few times over the years what it might be like.

I looked down at my cock, watching it disappearing and re-appearing as Krazy Girl bounced off it with her arse. Her beautiful golden-blonde hair was swaying in time with her breasts as she silently fucked her own arse with my cock. I think most other men would be very pleased with all this, but I wasn’t. My feet were frozen to the spot they stood on. I was terrified that my death sentence had just been carried out. I went a little cold inside (fear) and my cock must have softened a little bit because Krazy Girl said, “If it comes out it isn’t coming back in again,” without breaking her repetitive motion.

Was she a disease-ridden little slut? Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life, my now short life? Was anal sex a regular thing for her? Just how much trouble was I in? I wanted to know, so I asked, “How many other guys have fucked you in the arse?”

“Two others,” she answered, pushing her arse as far back on my cock as she could go, giving off a little grunting sound.

“Who?”

“My husband used to do it to me all the time. The first was another guy, but I was drunk and apparently there was a lot of screaming.” She kept bouncing off my cock with her butt-hole.

“Do you like being fucked in the arse?”

“Yes, when I’m really turned on.”

“Do you like feeling a cock cum in your arse?” I was curious.

“Yes.”

“Do you like the feeling of hot, sticky cum in your arse?”

“I love it.”

In that instant I decided that the damage was done and I might as well go with the flow. With my foul hands I gripped her butt-cheeks and started thrusting my hips towards her, burying my cock even deeper in her arse. She stopped moving and let out little gasps that indicated a little discomfort. I couldn’t care less if she was uncomfortable; if she had just infected me with something, I was going to punish her…punish her with my cock. I noticed the sight of us in a full-length mirror that was clinging to the wall opposite the bed.

“Look to your right,” I said, which she instantly did. “Can you see yourself in the mirror?”

“No.”

“Never mind. Keep looking that way.”

I kept looking into the mirror, committing to memory the sight of her on all fours on the bed, her pretty face with lips slightly apart, her expression neutral, eyes blinking with my every thrust, her perfect breasts dangling and swaying as I fucked her in the arse. I’d never fucked like that before, let alone with someone as physically perfect as Krazy Girl. If this was to be the end of me then I wanted to get as much out of it as I could.

I fucked her in the arse for what seemed like an eternity before I realised that I wasn’t going to cum. The way she had sucked me off eight hours previously had drained my balls, or so it felt. I knew at the time that a little bit of performance anxiety was creeping in too; I had never done this before and I was uncomfortable. I was a good guy and good guys don’t do things like this, right?

Wanting her to see herself, I picked her up off the bed and somehow managed to keep my cock in her arse as I positioned her in front of the mirror, dropping her legs to the ground.

“Put your hands either side of the mirror,” I commanded, which she instantly complied with, quicker than a scared felon about to be frisked by an angry policeman wielding a threatening night-stick.

“Look at yourself in the mirror. Watch your tits bounce as I fuck you in the arse,” I said. I was starting to enjoy this. Was she?

Her hair was getting in the way of my view, so I bunched it up and pulled back, just enough to lift her chin so that she could see everything in the mirror. She liked it because her tell-tale “naughty” escaped from her lips.

“Is this what you like?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes.”

“Is this what you need?” I said, pushing my cock in as deep as it could go, lifting her onto the tips of her toes, causing her to catch her breath just before she answered.

“Oh, yes.”

“Is this what you’re good for?”

“Yes.”

“Say, yes sir,” I ordered.

“Yes sir!”

Like that we stood for an indeterminate time, my cock thrusting in and out of her arse, me tugging her hair, all the while I had a view front and back of what was happening. It was great; my heart is racing now, as I describe this to you. I so wish I had videoed that encounter; I’d never share it, it would have been just for me. I wouldn’t share something like that, doing so would diminish its value.

“I’m starting to get sore now,” is what she said to bring the experience to an end. I pulled my cock out and it came with a little popping sound. My cock was starting to go soft anyway, there was only so much ass-fucking it could take too.

Her arse was tighter then her pussy and I must confess, after a while it felt good. It took a little bit of mental relaxation (okay, my accepting my possible fate) for me to enjoy this new experience. I had heard that anal sex usually involved some lubricant, but this obviously wasn’t the case. Another urban myth that Stupid Boy believed.

“Why did you do that?” I asked, still in a mild state of shock at what had just happened.

“You’ve been so nice to me so I thought you deserved that.”

This girl was crazy, but I liked her.

Krazy Girl showered first and left me to my conflicted thoughts and feelings…and inspecting my dick. When I showered I used every chemical product in that bathroom (with the exception of the toilet bleach) to clean my cock. I was determined to get off it anything that didn’t belong there. It wasn’t a pretty sight – various shades of red – when I decided it couldn’t take any more punishment for the day.

A couple of hours later we were sitting in an Italian coffee shop next to the Thames, looking out over small sheets of ice that were bobbing on the shoreline, laughing at people slipping on frozen pavements. Krazy Girl returned from the ladies and sat down with a naughty smile on her face. I waited for it.

“The ladies toilets are very spacious. If I wasn’t on my period I’d say let’s go in there,” she said.

This little woman was insatiable! I liked that. Finally I had met a woman who matched and possibly exceeded my sex-drive. What made matters even better was I knew that I was falling in love with her.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happens next…

That unforgettable Sunday morning with Krazy Girl

Sunday morning I was again awoken by the sound of Krazy Girl’s cat gargling a fur-ball. The little creature convulsed and contorted, doing it’s version of a break-dance on it’s way to the kitchen which I was starting to think of as a refuse dump.

I looked at Krazy Girl lying next to me, who was facing me with her lacy underwear still on. I looked at her skin, trying to find a blemish but couldn’t. I think she must have felt my gaze and she woke up. I slowly kissed her good morning on the lips and that seemed to inject some vigour into her, her eyes blinking into life. She certainly liked the way I kissed her.

We engaged in small-talk, trying to figure out if her flatmate and “friend” were in the room next door. Laying silently for a while, we eventually heard murmured tones coming from that room. Krazy Girl and I began talking about the previous night’s movie and I had to explain all the things that she didn’t understand.

While lying with our heads on the pillows, facing each other like all lovers should on a Wintry Sunday morning, out of nowhere she said to me, “I’ve decided that you’re going to be my dirty little secret.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, although I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant. I gave her a quizzical look but didn’t ask more of it. Instead I went on a subtle fishing expedition.

“I reckon you’ve got a lot of secrets,” I said with a smile. Inside me a little whirlpool of emotion was starting to spin, picking up speed, direction uncertain.

Krazy Girl said nothing but gave me a sly smile with a naughty twinkle in her turquoise eyes. For some reason The Nutslut came to mind and I took a shot in the dark.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a member of Killing Kittens,” I said, wondering if she had any clue of what I was talking about.

Her eyes went wide and her chapped lips parted in surprise.

“How did you know that?” she asked.

“I didn’t…but I do now,” I said with a laugh, hiding my surprise.

Silence.

“C’mon, you can tell me. I won’t get upset. I promise,” I said, slightly nervous about what she might tell me.

Krazy Girl thought about it for a few heart-pounding seconds.

“I was at a Killing Kittens event once as I know the owner, so I’m not a member. She asked me to attend and to be there early so that paying punters didn’t walk into an empty place,” she began.

“Yes….?”

“It wasn’t long before a couple who had been eyeing me up came over to talk to me; they were married to each other. I liked the look of the man and I knew what went on at these parties. I was curious about what could happen, so the three of us found a private room. I was expecting the man to come onto me, instead the woman grabbed me and started kissing me. She was rather rough.”

“So what happened?” I asked, trying hard to hide my incredulity.

“Oh, nothing. I didn’t like what was happening so I just walked away.”

“Did anything happen with anybody else at this party?”

“No.”

I wasn’t sure that I believed her, but I asked no more. (In hindsight I should have.)

Instead I chose a different tack, very aware that while she was in this chatty frame of mind about her sexual history that I had a small window of opportunity to learn what I could so that I could understand her better.

“Was that the first time a woman had kissed you?”

“No,” she said with a smile that told me of a far greater story to be told.

“C’mon, out with it. What have you done with girls?” I coaxed.

“I’m not sure I should tell you,” she said with a sudden look of worry on her face.

“Relax. I don’t care what you’ve done with other women. I think it’s rather sweet if two women pleasure each other,” I said, never having thought anything like that before, but those words came to me in a moment of inspiration that I hoped would keep her talking. It worked.

“Well, I have gone all the way with another woman,” she said, the concern sliding from her face, a hint of a smile appearing in its place.

“Who made who cum?” I said trying but failing no doubt to hide my naïvety.

“I made her cum,” she said.

“How did you make her cum?”

“With my tongue.”

“Did you enjoy doing that?”

“Yes.”

“How many times did you get down with her?”

“Three nights.”

“Would you do that again?” I asked, concerned that I had a little bi-sexual tigress on my hands. I wasn’t equipped emotionally to deal with that; my world was too rigid.

“No, I like cock too much, especially one like yours,” she said.

I wasn’t certain if she was being honest or just trying false flattery so as to get me to drop the subject. As first-thing-on-a-Sunday-morning-pillow-talk went this was sensational stuff. Well, to me at least.

From the previous bed-bound weekend I had learned that Krazy Girl liked naughty talk, it turned her on. It wasn’t my intention to do so, but I knew that our brief exchange will have had that effect. Seeing as she had sucked me off twice this weekend, I thought it only fair to get her off too.

I slid my hand down her panties, expecting resistance because she was on her period, but there was none. Instead she rolled onto her back, closed her eyes, sighed, raised her hands above her head and rested them on the pillow, her wrists exposed. It’s that last detail that does something for me because I take it as a sign of compliance and submission.

After a little bit of fidgeting I finally found her minuscule clit and started playing with it, running fingers either side of it, varying the speed and pressure, increasing and decreasing, then switching to just one finger, twirling around it one way, then the opposite way, again varying the speed and pressure, before reverting to using two fingers again.

I could feel her body tensing up and I could hear her breathing become heavier, increasing in speed as I sped up my finger-work. Was she going to make a noise that our unwelcome neighbours in the room next door could hear? I didn’t really care if they heard. Any awkwardness might make somebody not be there in future.

Krazy Girl’s breastbone was a rosy colour as I slipped her bra-straps off with my free hand, pulling the cups down to expose her perfect breasts and erect nipples. She must have been close to cumming when I started playing with her breasts

“It’s very naughty,” she whispered as she took a deep breath, still keeping her eyes closed.

“When you cum, I want you to hold your breath. That’ll make it more intense and last a little bit longer,” I said but I don’t think she heard me.

It became apparent to me that she wasn’t going to be cumming any time soon. She was on the verge and there she stayed, her body or mind unwilling to go any further, for reasons I could only guess at. My hand was getting tired and I knew that just something small was needed to get her over the edge.

I sat upright in the bed, positioned myself between her legs while keeping a thumb playing with her tiny clit. With my free hand I pulled her knickers down to around her ankles, but not completely off as I wanted her to tussle with them with her feet, a little act that would help speed up her blood-flow.

Krazy Girl opened her eyes and we made intense eye-contact, unspeaking, perhaps the intimacy of that would help make her cum? Nope.

She brought her hands down to her pussy and I couldn’t help but look down at what she was doing. She had parted her pussy lips with her fingers to make it easier for me to get to her microscopic clit. My eyes, however, couldn’t help but focus on the little white cord of her tampon that was dangling out. Never a pleasing sight that.

No matter what I did, she just wasn’t getting any closer to climaxing. She was very close, her stifled moans and anxious biting of her bottom lip told me so. Then an idea came to me.

I brought my free hand slowly up to my mouth, making a show of it, just for her to see. For her to wonder what I was going to do, to get her body more tense, to help us get there. Maintaining eye contact I put my index finger in my mouth, sucked on it, moistened it.

To be continued…

The sweetest Saturday with Krazy Girl

I was awoken the next morning by the sound of her cat choking and spluttering on a fur-ball. Krazy Girl was huddled up against me and I could see snow at the bottom of the window frame. She stirred and our eyes met to smile at each other. I kissed her good morning on the lips and she made approving noises.

“It looks like it’s been snowing while we slept,” I said.

Krazy Girl sat bolt upright in the bed so quickly that it startled me and the cat, the latter running off to the kitchen, to go pee in its smelly litter no doubt.

“We should go have breakfast at the market nearby, then maybe buy a few things for dinner tonight!” she exclaimed excitedly, her eyes wide, like a little girl on Christmas eve expecting a big present. Oh, so I’m staying for dinner, am I? Good.

It wasn’t too long before we were gingerly making our way along iced-over pavements towards the nearby market, with me holding her dainty little hand in the air and providing her with support if she needed it, us laughing as we walked. We stopped in at a family-run diner that served us a perfect English breakfast with strong coffee. Krazy Girl started telling me about the history of the area and all about her favourite shops, pubs and restaurants; how the options there changed with the seasons and how where we were was her favourite place in the whole wide world to have breakfast.

As she excitedly chattered away, her eyes alight with enthusiasm, I could feel myself falling in love with her. Her sweet, delightful nature was on full show and I found it irresistible. The words she effortlessly chose seduced me. I could feel a warm, fuzzy feeling growing in the centre of me, slowly taking hold of my heart and gently squeezing – and I liked it. I was, however, mindful of her revelations of the previous night and, just before sleep finally claimed me, I had resolved to take it slow with her, to prove to her that she could trust me and that I wouldn’t hurt her.

My heart got the better of my brain and after about a minute I couldn’t hear her words, I was drowning in the moment, mesmerised by the loveliness that was her. My eyes would move from her moist pink lips, to her chin, which I could feel my fingertips brush, to the side of her bare neck that I wanted to kiss, inhaling her scent as I did so. I could almost feel her earlobes between my teeth, hear the sound as she caught her breath.

“So what do you think of that idea?” she asked.

“Umm…sorry, what?”

“Ugh! You men. You never listen!”

She was right, sometimes we men don’t listen. It’s not that we are bored with what a woman is saying and start thinking about football or movies, or beer or porn…sometimes we’re drifting off appreciating you. We’re taking in every little idiosyncratic detail of you, committing it to memory, so that when we’re away from you we can smile inside as we remember you, especially when we’re falling in love with you.

“I was saying that the movie-house across the road is showing Argo tonight. Shall we go?”

“Of course. Sounds good. Let’s do that,” I said, snapping out of my stupor.

Outside in the freezing cold at the market I bought us horrendously over-priced French cheeses and sausages; Krazy Girl promised to make a great meal with them. Icy sleet started coming down and we headed back to her place for warmth; bad smells be damned. I was grateful to have this opportunity to reconnect with her and her having her period wasn’t a bad thing either because we could refrain from sex and just take the time to get to know each other better. I didn’t want sex, albeit fantastic, to be the foundation of our relationship.

We ended up spending most of the day in bed, not indulging in kinky-fuckery, but watching Californication on her laptop, a show which Krazy Girl absolutely loved. It’s my all-time favourite show and her taking to it like she did, I took as a massively positive sign. Television is the biggest relationship aid in existence and if we were to get to that point in our lives where we had run out of things to say to each other, at least we could enjoy the same shows together.

Darkness overwhelmed the snow flurries and we got hungry, so Krazy Girl decided to get to work in the kitchen, intent on impressing me with her culinary skills. Given the state of the environment that my meal was being prepared in, I knew I’d be eating with long teeth.

“There’s a lamp behind the sofa that needs a fitting for a bulb. My husband could never figure out how to do it. Would you like to give it a go while I make us dinner?” she challenged.

I had no choice but to accept her first test of my manly domestic skills. Luckily I’m quite good with my hands (not just in the bedroom) and it didn’t take me long to figure it out and do what was needed. Her face lit up with an innocent delight as I switched it on for her. It was going to make a big difference to her lounge and her lifestyle because now she had a proper reading lamp. Her gratitude was sincere.

Krazy Girl’s cooking skills did not disappoint, but instead impressed me. With very little ingredients she had created a tangy cheese sauce that covered the grilled sausages and mixed vegetables that she had julienned and made interesting shapes out of. I admired her resourcefulness and creativity, being able to produce a restaurant-quality meal with very little other than what was in her mind was impressive. She wasn’t just a pretty face and a fantastic lay.

So there we were, playing housey-housey, and you know what…it felt good. It felt normal and natural. I had old-fashioned values instilled in me, so that afternoon was in keeping with what I call The Natural Order. (I’ll tell you more about that another time.) It was what I wanted not just because it was what I was comfortable with, but also because it was what I understood…and it seemed to work for both of us.

I knew that I wanted a long-term relationship with Krazy Girl. So much so that the thought had crossed my mind as I did the wiring for the lamp that perhaps one day I would buy a new home with her and she could have the veto based on whether or not she loved the kitchen. The bath would have to be big enough for both of us. Neighbours had to be far away so that on Sunday nights we could make love in any room with the curtains open, with just the moon for light.

My day-dreaming was disturbed by the arrival of Krazy Girl’s flatmate and her scruffy companion, both of whom just glared at me as I smiled at them. There was no introduction and the interlopers hardly broke step and said only a few things to Krazy Girl as they made for the second bedroom. They must have been hoping to have the place to themselves…ah, hence our going to the movies. How did women arrange their chicanery before the advent of mobile phones?

During the movie, “Argo”, which centred on the Iran hostage crisis that occurred from 1979 to 1981, Krazy Girl kept asking me questions about what was going on. I find it annoying when other people talk during a movie so I totally understood when other people kept shushing her. She irritated me a bit. I remember the movie’s storyline as it was played out for real on television and radio when I was a kid. My father used to make me sit with him every night and listen to the world news. Krazy Girl hadn’t even been born when the hostage crisis was over. That was the first time I felt the age-gap between us.

It was almost midnight when we got back to her smelly home, but the flatmate and her stud were still awake and in bed. Her stifled giggles and other sounds told us so; that headboard needing tightening. Krazy Girl and I decided to turn in for the night.

I was very pleased with how the day had gone. To me it felt like we had bonded as a couple, learnt more about each other, laughed and played nicely all day; there was no drama. It felt good and I was starting to sense the makings of a relationship.

I was laying on my back with Krazy Girl against me, her delicate hand on my chest after we had said goodnight. We were both in our underwear again, using the cold as an excuse, but the truth is that I wasn’t comfortable airing my bollicles in such a grimy environment. The bed-bugs would probably spit-roast them and dance in a circle around them, singing the Bed-bug Bollicle Barbecue song.

Krazy Girl slowly pushed the covers off me, slid herself down to my waist, pulled my jocks halfway down my thighs and started gently, lovingly sucking my cock. If this was her idea of how every night should end, then I could get used to it.

There was no way in the world that I could have predicted what was waiting for me the next morning…

Post-coital insanity?! – Final part

“I’m scared,” is all Krazy Girl said.

“Scared of what?” I asked, as softly as I knew how.

“I’m scared of making another mistake. Scared of getting hurt again. Scared of you,” she said, plaintively.

“We’re all scared of getting hurt and making a mistake, but why are you scared of me?” I had to know.

“Because you seem so perfect and the last time I felt that way it ended in disaster.”

“Whoever that guy is you’re referring to, well, I’m not him.”

“I know, but I’m still scared.”

“Tell me about him. I assume it’s your ex-husband?”

“Yes, it was my husband. He’s tall, dark and handsome, just like you. It was a whirlwind, fairytale romance. He totally swept me off my feet and I thought that he was ‘The One’.”

I said nothing, having latched onto the fact that she was talking about him in the present tense. I realized then that she wasn’t over her ex-husband. Krazy Girl continued with her story.

“After a year of going out he proposed and a few months later we were married. Did you notice the church next to the pub where we first met? That’s where we got married. The pub was where we had our wedding reception.”

I was starting to cringe inside because unwittingly I had been walking in someone else’s footsteps, someone who had hurt her, someone bad. It must have been so bizarre for her to see me in that setting doused in memories and emotions for her. I said nothing, choosing to let her do the talking, having decided to only speak when I felt the need for some clarification.

“Our first year together was wonderful. We lived here in this flat, saving our money and deciding where we wanted to buy a house. We had set our hearts on the town where you live. But after that first year is when things started to go wrong. He is a senior executive in a world-famous company, earns lots of money, but he gets loads of freebies and away days from clients. He would go away for a day or two in the beginning, but by our second year he would disappear for a week at a time and I would never hear from him. If I phoned all I got was his voicemail and his secretary was brilliant at covering for him.”

“Oh dear” is all I could say, taking in the severity of what that must have felt like for her, but appreciating our moment of honesty. The significance of her having once longed to live in my town was not lost on me. Had she contacted me because I reminded her of her ex-husband and because of where I lived? Deep down did it seem to her like I was an opportunity to resurrect a shattered dream? There was more.

“Toward the end he had disappeared for a week and I finally found him in a hotel room in London, passed out in a bed with his best friend and two women. They were all naked. There was used condoms, cocaine and empty champagne bottles everywhere.”

“What did you do?”

“I just took photographs and walked out. I didn’t wake him. I went to my parents who convinced me to get a divorce. My father found a lawyer. A few weeks later I attempted suicide, but I failed at that too,” she said in an emotionless tone, her mind obviously convulsing in those memories.

Suddenly the bed felt very small to me. I thought about what was the best thing to say and came up with, “I’m sorry to hear that all that happened to you. If I ever see him, I’ll beat him up for you.” Lame, huh?

I was in a mild state of shock. The little I knew of her, of her gentle, innocent nature, I surmised that it must have been a massively disappointing trauma for her. Her trying to commit suicide didn’t sit well with me.

After taking a deep breath I said to her, “I can promise you here and now that I’ll never deliberately hurt you physically or emotionally.”

She liked the sound of that, making an approving sound while burying her face into my chest and a hand pulling tight against my ribcage. I looked to my left and made eye contact with the cat perched in the drawer, staring at us. What was she making of all this, I wondered.

Suddenly Krazy Girl pulled the duvet off us and started tugging at my underwear, expertly pulling them off. I didn’t say a word, a little surprised by this given the nature of the conversation we’d just had. I certainly wasn’t feeling frisky.

She quickly parted my legs, kneeled between them, leaned forward, putting a hand on the bed next to my hip and started kissing around my groin area. All I could think of in that moment was that I hadn’t showered since the previous night, but I was learning that she wasn’t afraid of dirty things. Did they hold some kind of compelling magnetism that she was drawn to?

Krazy Girl closed her eyes and started slowly, gently licking my flaccid cock and balls. The tenderness of her licks was such that it seemed loving. The tip of her little tongue would give a slow lick along the shaft of my growing cock, repeatedly, as if doing so was forcing it to grow. It was done in such a manner that it made me think of her cat licking an ice-cream on a hot Summer’s day. (In case you’re wondering, I keep myself clean-shaven down there. I feel more and know that it looks, smells and tastes better for a woman. Men: take note.)

It didn’t take long before my cock was rock hard, but my inner dialogue was still focussed on the revelations about her marriage. I wasn’t expecting any kind of sexual action that night. In fact I was prepared for an argument, drama, histrionics and my leaving sometime before midnight, probably never to see her again.

It was only when she took the head of my cock in her mouth, held it in place and then ran the tip of her tongue around the head while keeping her eyes closed that I focussed completely on what she was doing to me, for me.

Krazy Girl started moving her head up and down on my cock, slowly and deliberately, taking in more of the shaft with every movement, then moved her head from side to side to vary the sensation before increasing the speed at which she did this. All the time she kept her eyes closed and had a hint of a smile on her face; she looked incredibly sexy.

After a few minutes of this my butt-cheeks stiffened and my balls ached a little as the sperm sped out of my cock into her mouth. The previous weekend didn’t include oral orgasm for me, so was she now going to spit, hold or swallow my load of man juice?

The last drop went into her mouth, she pulled her head back, keeping her mouth closed as my cock slipped out of it. Krazy Girl opened her eyes and they were smiling at me. She made a show of swallowing what was in her mouth, raising her chin so that I could see her tiny Adam’s apple move as she swallowed. Then she dropped her head and opened her mouth to show me that it was all gone.

“Sorry, but that’s all you’re getting tonight. My period started today,” she said, speaking for the first time in what seemed liked hours.

“That’s not what I came her for,” I said, honestly.

Krazy Girl switched off the lamp on her side of the bed, snuggled up next to me for warmth or intimacy – I wasn’t sure which – and started to fall asleep. Through a gap in the threadbare curtains I could see flakes of snow drifting down on the world. Once again the weather was keeping in step with my romantic fortunes.

It was now well after midnight and I lay there for I don’t know how long, thinking about everything she had told me.

I had certainly got more than I had expected…

Post-coital insanity?!

Krazy Girl had told me of her plan for that Monday. She had to drive back to the countryside town where she had left her cat to get pregnant, then drive to her home in central London to drop off the cat and luggage before u-turning to her parent’s home near London to return her father’s car. Over the course of the weekend she had been sending false text messages to her parents about her whereabouts and plans. I wasn’t too impressed by the level of deceit that she was engaging in to keep her parents ignorant of her shenanigans, but seeing as I was the beneficiary, I really couldn’t say anything.

I knew that she was busy, so I only sent her one text message for that Monday, which ended in asking her to call me that night. I got no response. The next day I sent her another text message during the day, but again no response. That night I phoned her, but only got her voicemail. I left a message, but again got no response.

I was getting concerned that she might have had an accident, then remembered that Whatsapp shows when a person last logged on, so I checked that and it told me that she had been on it an hour previously. I felt relieved to know that she was okay, but then became perplexed and a little angry that she hadn’t answered me. I couldn’t understand why she was ignoring me. I was confused as all hell.

The Wednesday was a repeat of the previous day and I really didn’t like it. What was going on?! That night I noticed that one of my forks was missing from my cutlery set. (For months afterwards I was finding that several music cd’s were missing from their covers, as well as a few dvd discs.)

By the Thursday I was totally befuddled by her behaviour. We had had such a good time and got along really well, hardly a hint of any kind of mismatch or showstoppers between us. Had I said or done something wrong? Was it the thumb up the arse that she really didn’t like? I spoke to a couple of older women in my office about this situation (not mentioning our sexual antics, of course) because I was desperate to have some kind of inkling about what was going on. I wanted an insight into the female psyche that I was obviously lacking.

“Oh, it’s quite simple,” they both said, “she’s crazy.”

Maybe they were right and Krazy Girl was exactly that: crazy. However, I refused to accept that that was the case and still wanted to see her because I felt that we had a future together. I could see us living together and quite happily too. I could see us always holding hands as we walked through lush, green meadows bathed by the setting sun. On cold Winter nights I’d keep her warm and laugh at her cold feet against my shins. She loved to cook and I love to eat, obviously a match made in gastronomic heaven. I felt like she fitted me like my favourite glove, not just physically but emotionally too. Yes, there was ten year age-gap between us, but so what; it wasn’t an issue unless one of us made it so.

Whatsapp told me that Krazy Girl was active on it across the course of the day. I didn’t contact her at all on the Thursday, preferring to try and play it cool, despite being in turmoil inside. By the Friday night I couldn’t take it any more, so I phoned her and to my surprise she actually bothered to answer this time.

“Hi. How are you?” I began.

“I’m fine thanks. How about you?”

“Quite honestly, I’m a little confused by why I haven’t heard from you this week.” I went straight to the heart of the matter; why waste time?

“Oh, I’ve just been busy, that’s all,” Krazy Girl said nonchalantly.

Busy?! Busy on Whatsapp, that’s for sure, I bellowed inside me but left it there. I knew from her neutral words and tone that she was being defensive, but her answering my call told me that it wasn’t over. I decided to proceed with caution, like a hunter stalking a very alert and fast-moving prey.

Round and round we went, making endless small talk, like two heavyweight boxers in a ring during a title fight, being careful not to take a heavy blow and being alert to any opportunity to land the knockout blow. My winning blow would be getting to be with her, be by her side so that I could look her in the eye when we spoke. I was convinced that achieving that would make it all better for both of us, whatever “it” was.

Eventually something inside her gave way and Krazy Girl said, “I so badly want you lying next me right now.”

My opportunity had arrived and I went for it with, “That’s easily arranged. All I need is a postcode and I’ll be there in an hour.”

Krazy Girl thought about it for a second and then uttered the sounds that was her postcode. Nobody packs a bag quicker than a man expecting a surprise dirty weekend. I thought I had lost her and that feeling hurt seeing as I was coming off the tremendous high of the Monday morning.

It was March and the last Winter storm was raging in fury overhead, unleashing icy sheets of angry rain across the roads as I broke the speed limit all the way to Krazy Girl’s place. My satnav said it would take 90 minutes plus the very bad weather, so normally it would have taken two hours – I did it in one hour.

I parked outside what looked like a very forbidding, monstrous apartment block in central London. I texted Krazy Girl that I had arrived and she came to get me. Her arms were folded against the cold and violent rain, so I just gave her polite kiss on the cheek to say hello. What I really wanted to do was wrap my arms around her, pick her up and squeeze her, but that just had to wait until after I had solved the mystery of her behaviour.

It was now 10pm on a stormy Friday night as Krazy Girl led me to her home. I was disgusted at the state of the communal area once we were inside the block. The most obvious thing was the heavy stench of marijuana that filled the air, seemingly emanating from every second door in the corridors as we climbed two flights of stairs. The walls were filthy with all sorts of marks on them, including one that I was convinced was of someone having smeared shit on it. The sticky floors had not been washed in a long time.

Krazy Girl’s apartment wasn’t much better. The first thing that hit me was the smell of the cat’s litter that was stronger than the smell of the dope outside. Her furnishings were basic and old, everything seemed tatty and well past its prime. I was shocked.

“My flatmate’s not in tonight, so we have the place to ourselves,” she said.

Flatmate?! It just gets better. You, me and the cat, huh? Never mind, that’s not what’s important right now, I thought to myself. I just had to get to the bottom of what the hell has been going on in her head.

“Can we just cuddle in my bed? It’s warmer there,” Krazy Girl asked. Of course I agreed, wanting to feel her touch as much as get away from the smell of the cat litter in the kitchen where one of the doors was nearly falling off of its hinge.

Her bedroom was occupied by a double-bed close to the door and the rest of the room was a mound of cardboard boxes, some of them open, displaying their contents which were mostly books. Cables dangled across the boxes to a laptop that rested on a box. Next to the bed, along the wall, was an old pine chest of drawers with the top drawer halfway out. In it was her prize cat, perched on underwear, glaring at the intruder that was me. A dusty lamp by the bedside provided meagre light. I was not impressed by her living arrangements; ‘shocked’ is the best word that comes to mind.

It was surreal to me as we got undressed, both of us keeping our underwear on, like we were a long-married old couple and then got into bed. I wrapped myself around her cold body and she made approving sounds as she nestled her head under my chin. In that moment the world felt like it had re-assembled itself for me and had returned to its state that I knew on the Monday morning which now felt like an eternity ago.

After making small talk that inevitably involved her asking my opinion of her home which tested my tact, I decided it was time to get to the crux of the matter.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls this week? What’s going on?” I asked.

Krazy Girl sighed, anxiously sank some fingernails into my chest and she started thinking.

To be continued…

Love walked in

Krazy Girl and I enjoyed each other’s bodies for several hours more. I made her cum by simultaneously fingering her g-spot and licking her clit which, by the way, was tiny. I know my way around a woman’s body and never before had I struggled to find that little guy. Hers was definitely under-developed.

In a moment of tactless honesty I said to her, “Jeez, you really have a small clit,” not expecting much of a response. Hardly were my words cold when I realized that they might cause offence, but instead she came back with, “Yeah, I know. It’s because I’ve done so much cycling.”

We eventually got around to the dinner I had prepared as part of my redundant ‘plan’ for the night. We were both still frisky and got to watching ‘Basic Instinct’, but we didn’t even get halfway through it before we were fucking on my sofa again. We just couldn’t get enough of each other. She certainly was a very enthusiastic lover, very eager to please and had my pleasure as her highest priority. I was in heaven on earth.

Eventually she fell asleep in my arms in the small hours of the morning after I had carried her to my bed and made her cum again. As long as I live I shall never find the words to describe how good I felt that night. I was on such a natural high and life felt perfect. I couldn’t believe my luck in having this amazing little woman appear in my life out of nowhere. Thank you OKCupid.

On the Sunday morning I woke up first and just lay next to Krazy Girl, taking in the spectacle that was her. I had never seen such a physically perfect woman before. I was still dizzy from this new reality when her eyes opened and met mine. Words weren’t necessary.

Within about a minute we were at it, doggy-style without having said a word to each other. She starting bunching her hair up and then said, “Pull my hair.” As first words to hear in the morning, this was novel, but I’m always eager to please, so I did as she asked. I grabbed the bushel of hair and gently pulled back, raising her chin.

Then Krazy Girl did something most unexpected. I watched her put a middle finger in her mouth, suck on it and then reach back to her arse and started rubbing this finger around her little arsehole before slowly forcing the finger in, as deep as it could go.

I couldn’t believe that this girl was fingering her own arsehole. I’d never seen a woman do this before, not even in a porn movie.

My body ran on auto-pilot for several seconds as I took in the scene before me. Here was the most physically perfect woman I’d ever had the privilege of being intimate with, on her knees and one hand on my headboard, her e-cup breasts swaying all over the place, my cock buried deep in her pussy, me pulling her hair because she asked me to…and she was fingering her own arse?!

As I sit here typing this, with my eyes wide open, I can still see that scene today…and I’m getting a chubby.

A team of wild horses yearning to break free of their bonds tied to me could never have pulled my cock out of that vagina. The novelty and naughtiness of this became too much and my balls tweaked tight as my man milk sprinted for the exit. I came so hard that I got a headache; it must have been from my brain rattling against my skull.

Recovering, I looked down and saw that her pussy had clamped tight around my slippery cock…and she was still pulling and pushing her finger in her arse.

Pulling my cock out her was accompanied by a little ‘pop’ sound that I found cute, but what was truly hot was seeing her pull her finger out of her arse and lying on her side, smiling at me. I felt a mixture of surprise, disgust, curiosity and flattery (because she felt comfortable enough to do this with me) but said nothing, choosing instead to pretend like this was dead normal for me.

There’s no other way to say this…we spent most of that Sunday in my bed fucking…and it was great. We’d take a breather, make some small talk, perhaps have something to eat or drink, talk ourselves into a frenzy and make the beast with two backs…wait, that’s not correct…we re-enacted pretty much every position in the karma sutra.

By that Sunday night my cock was getting sore and I suspect so was her pussy. We agreed on one more fuck and went for it one last time for the weekend. Krazy Girl liked having her hair pulled when doing it doggy-style for a while, but this time I surprised her. With her hair firmly in my grasp, I put my thumb in my mouth, made it as wet as can be, then put it down between her butt-cheeks, all the while fucking her with my now hurting cock.

My thumb found her little arsehole and started to rub in circles around it. She liked it, giving off an approving little grunt. I pulled her bunch of hair as far back as I could and then slowly forced my thumb into her arse, all the time watching for any grimace or facial expression that showed pain or discomfort. There was none as I slowly pushed my thumb ever deeper up her arse, but I did notice that her breathing quickened. Then she huskily said, “naughty,” but didn’t do or say anything else, so I carried on.

Like that I fucked her; her hair pulled hard, my cock deep in her pussy and my thumb as far up her arse as it could go…and she loved it. I felt her body starting to twitch just before she came with what was her biggest orgasm of the weekend. Her body shook but couldn’t move much under the grip I had her in; it probably heightened the experience for her, feeling constrained, being violated and manhandled like that. All she could let out was a deep, throaty “Hnnnn…” as she came.

I let go of her hair and she let her head drop down, gasping for breath and I think I saw a drop of saliva fall from her mouth onto the cushion beneath her. I wasn’t done with her though; well, my cock wasn’t. As I took my time to reach my own orgasm, Krazy Girl remained perfectly still, my thumb still buried in her arse, submissively letting me do as I pleased. Somehow I managed to cum again; I had lost count of how many times I did that weekend, but I’m sure it was a record.

I pulled my digit and penis out of her holes and Krazy Girl collapsed into a heap on the bedsheets covered in and reeking of our body fluids. I fell down next to her and cuddled her, smelly thumb be damned. She was still breathing heavily, almost panting as we lay there speechless, but satisfied. Like that we fell asleep.

My alarm woke us the next morning; it was another Monday, but unlike any I had ever known. I opened my eyes first and took another good look at this fabulously sexual, stunningly attractive woman who was lying next to me. Finally I was experiencing what I had been craving.

“Good morning,” I said with an automatic smile. It was automatic because I just couldn’t help smiling, such was my elation.

“Hello,” she said softly, smiling with her eyes as she clutched the duvet to her chest.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous, but I have to shower and go to work. Would you like me to make you breakfast?”

“No, but thank you. Can I lie-in for a while then leave later after you?”

“Yeah, sure I’ll leave you my door key, but can you please leave it under my doormat when you leave?”

“Okay,” is all she said.

I left my home that morning walking on several feet of invisible cloud; I was on an incredible high. I smiled all day and people at work made their caustic comments, but I couldn’t care less. I felt that I had finally found the perfect woman for me.

I sat in a daze for most of the day, recalling details of the previous two days. During a break from our sex Olympics, I had asked Krazy Girl, “What’s your favourite song?”

“It’s ‘Love Walked In’ by Thunder. It popped into my mind the moment I saw you for the first time last Saturday night.”

“Can’t say I know it, but I’ll check it out.”

Here it is. These words were written for how I felt on that Monday…and it had meaning to her too…

Thunder – Love Walked In

Krazy Girl gets…crazy?!

Krazy Girl arrived complaining of a stiff back and legs from the long drive. We went for a walk so that she could loosen up. I was all in favour of this, thinking she’d be needing it for later. After a stroll of 30 minutes around my town, making polite small-talk, we ended up back at mine. Before I knew it we were kissing. Within seconds she pushed me on to the sofa, kneeled before me and started rubbing my crotch. I was stunned; I’d never been in such a situation before. I had always taken the lead when getting intimate with a woman. How far was she willing to go? Surely not all the way? I never said a word as she looked deep into my eyes, her face stern with intent and eyes smiling mischievously.

My manhood reacted as it would at the hands of such attention. She never looked down as she unzipped and unbuckled my jeans, her gaze fixed on me. I kept a straight face, trying to match her intensity, a look of daring in my eyes I hoped. We said nothing. She pulled my swollen cock out of my clothing, briefly looking down at it as she worked it up and down with both her hands. I slouched in my sofa as this vixen before me maintained eye contact, licked her lips, blinked a few times…pulled my foreskin back…and then eagerly swooped down on my cock with her mouth.

She sucked on it eagerly and ferociously…a mixture of up down head movement at various speeds, then twisting and turning her head…never once letting my cock out of her mouth.

It was swelling and growing all the time. She knew exactly what she was doing and she did it well.

I never said a word as she expertly varied her technique….

Licking up and down my shaft…stopping to kiss my aching balls that were still partially squashed in my underwear…then slowly licking them…all the while maintaining eye contact.

She stopped and pulled my jeans and undies off with incredible ease…she’d done this many times before.

She kept her clothes on, but it didn’t matter. I was thinking that this was just foreplay and she’d stop at any second. I spread my legs, in my mind daring her to continue…to her there was no dare involved.

She made sure to lick all over my balls, occasionally kissing them…before stopping for a few seconds to look me in the eye…

…and slowly suck one of my balls in to her wet, warm mouth…

There was a little discomfort in my testicle that she swallowed…she knew this…gave me a sly smile with her eyes…and slowly released it…

Krazy Girl moved over to my other one, sucked that one in more quickly…I gasped from the sudden mixture of pleasure and pain…

I could feel her roll her tongue around my ball while she held it in her mouth…

She released it by almost spitting it out…and then vigorously deep-throated my shaft and head to the back of her mouth…and rocked her head back and forth many times as quickly as she could…which made for a mesmerising sight.

She was an expert cock-sucker…and she loved it! She made approving sounds as she did her thing…or my thing.

She jerked her head back; my rock-hard cock flopped out of her mouth, dangling like a crane in the wind, not knowing what to do with itself…

But she did…she knew exactly what she wanted to do…she had been fantasizing about this on her maniacal high-speed drive over to me…

She stood up and in one quick movement fiddled wit her skirt and straddled me…it was so quick that I didn’t have time to react.

This wasn’t part of my plan! I’m very much an alpha male, being in charge at all times. This was a very new and unusual situation for me, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it.

She put her hands on my shoulders and started rubbing and grinding her crotch against my fully erect cock…she kept eye contact at all times…we never spoke.

I had my hands on her hips and I could smell the sweet scent of her perfume through her floral blouse and frumpy beige cardigan.

She bit the corner of her mouth, reached down behind herself, fussed with her black skirt and pulled her g-string sideways.

Was she going to do what I…

Yes, she did…

She had pulled her stringy knickers aside and slid herself on to my cock.

I was aghast as I had planned to use a condom, but this little tigress was too quick for me.

Oh…MY…GAWD…She felt exquisitely perfect as she covered the tip of my throbbing cock with her pussy.

Krazy Girl’s pussy was very wet, wonderfully tight and ever so-pleasingly warm. We both held our breath.

She kept looking in to my eyes, unblinking, still biting her lip in a naughty-girl-caught-masturbating kind of way…

She finally made a sound, by gasping and then starting a slow moan, almost against her wishes it seemed, as she forced herself down onto my rock-hard cock.

Her eyes were lighting up as she went further down, obviously enjoying the length of me. She was a little on the small and tight side, but she felt wonderful.

She forced herself down as far as she could go; I was obviously filling her up, given the sounds that she was involuntarily making…

She rolled her head back, her hands gripping my shoulders and started gyrating on me, something that surprised me, but nevertheless pleased me.

Then she put her hands behind my neck and began riding me like her life depended on it.

Suddenly she stopped, half stood up, trying to keep my cock in her waterfall-like pussy, and pulled me up by the neck.

I’m 6 foot 2 inches tall and 220 pounds, but this little woman had no problem manhandling me, such was the adrenaline flowing through her body. In the process we un-copulated.

She pulled me on to the rug next to the sofa and said “Take me on the floor…”

I quickly pulled my top off and frenetically undressed her as she lay before me…clothes flying everywhere…

I spotted a small tattoo above her hip bone. It was of a panther the size of my thumb. I don’t like tattoos, but I wasn’t going to quibble…

Her head was laid back on my floor, golden blonde hair spread out like a peacock’s tail feathers, her eyes ablaze with passion and anticipation…

The moment that I had been waiting for had unexpectedly arrived…I was going to get to see, feel and play with her breasts that I had secretly been stealing glances at in out first few dates.

I pushed her top up and they popped out…and I knew then and there that there is a God after all, because her breasts were absolutely perfect!

They were all-natural, wonderfully round, smooth, fleshy, inviting and large. Her nipples were erect and a rosy pink colour…

I somehow resisted the urge that all men in the same situation would have done – I didn’t suck her breasts.

Instead I parted her legs and slowly slid my already wet cock in to her awaiting pussy…and it felt even better than before.

Missionary position has its detractors, but I’m not one of them. I love the look on a woman’s face when she feels how big I am for the first time…as her mouth falls open and she gasps for breath, a mixed look of pleasure and fear in her eyes.

I know I should have stood up and found a condom…but a steam train was not going to stop what thousands of years of evolution had designed me to do…to fuck!

I felt her wrap her legs around my back. Oh, how I love that feeling. That act of complete desire, lust, acceptance, yearning and submission all rolled in to one.

I started to slowly but forcefully slide my cock in and out of her…I noticed that her breathing was now in time with my every thrust.

Her pussy felt like it was made for me.

Then her body started quivering. I thought she was approaching an orgasm. I looked down.

She was crying.

Sweet little tears were sliding out of her eyes, going in every direction that gravity wanted.

I stopped, mortified that I was hurting her; worried that somehow I had accidentally slipped in to the wrong hole.

“What’s the matter?” I obviously had to ask, breaking the intense silence.

She looked at me, reluctant to answer. Indecision had replaced lust in her eyes.

For a fleeting moment I realised all the danger that I was in. Here I was, balls deep in to a girl I had only met a week earlier. No protection involved.

Shit, what was she about to tell me? Had I now just joined the AIDS club? God, no!

“I was afraid that you’d be small” is what she blurted out.

“What the hell are you talking about” I instantly retorted.

“Everything with you has been perfect so far. Everything. I can’t find anything wrong with you. I had convinced myself that you must have a small dick.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

She continued “Now I feel like such a fool for having told myself that. You’re the biggest I’ve ever had.” She sobbed, foolishly.

“Well, surprise!” I said with a smile to which she smiled too. I didn’t want to stop to think about the insanity of what she had just said; I wanted to finish what we had started, just as Mother Nature had intended.

I slid my cock back into her pussy and we fucked for what felt like a blissful eternity on my lounge floor. We were both getting carpet burns, but we didn’t care, such was the intensity and enjoyment of our first time.

I didn’t want to cum in her, so I somehow controlled my natural instinct and pulled out when I sensed that I was about to cum.

“Push your tits together,” I instructed. She instantly complied as I straddled her ribs.

I gave my cock a few tugs and my baby batter started spurting out, spraying drop by drop across her perfect breasts. She looked down at my cum all the while as it collected on her bosom. Her facial expression was one of strange curiosity.

My last drop plopped into the little puddle that was forming in her cleavage. She let go of her breasts and with an index finger collected a dollop of cum which she looked at intently, then put that finger in her mouth and sucked it clean, closing her eyes as she did so…

 

 

Krazy Girl – The second and the mini-date

We met the next day for another date and I fetched Krazy Girl at her parents home where she was staying for the weekend. She asked me to park around the corner, out of sight, something I thought odd but complied with nevertheless. She suggested that we drive to an upmarket pub in an adjoining town for Sunday lunch, passing several equally good pubs along the way. We were getting along very well as conversation flowed effortlessly and fruitfully; we were enjoying each other’s company. As we were driving away from the pub she gave me a funny look.

What’s that look about?” I asked.

Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied.

Don’t lie to me. Out with it,” I coaxed.

Have you ever had a feeling that you know you’re going to be with somebody for a long time?”

Good grief, I wasn’t expecting that, but hearing it pleased me.

Yes. It’s a good feeling isn’t it,” was the clever answer I gave her with a smile. My ex-girlfriend came to mind; after our first date all those years ago that was how I had felt about her. Fool. I wasn’t feeling that way about the little hottie sitting next to me, well, not just yet.

Krazy Girl and I walked around her neighbourhood and we had a pleasant long chat sitting on a bench next to a canal. As we got to know more about each other, the more I liked her. She was charming, good-natured, sweet and innocent…and couldn’t get enough of kissing me. I also found her incredibly attractive and was relishing the prospect of making love to her, but knew that I had to bide my time. She seemed like a good girl and not the type to jump into bed quickly.

The second date ended with us sitting in my car near her parent’s home. We started kissing again and she got really turned on; her kisses and sounds became increasingly passionate. Suddenly Krazy Girl got very aggressive and put her hand between my legs as we were kissing. Her aim was badly off and she couldn’t find my cock. Inside I was laughing but she got a little upset and said, “Where is he? You don’t have a small one do you?” There was hint of concern in her tone of voice.

If only she knew the truth, I thought to myself, continuing to laugh to myself.

No, he’s just sleeping,” is what I said to placate her.

I think we should call it a night. It’s getting dark and your parents are probably getting worried,” I said, wanting to end the date before things went too far too quickly. We could quite easily have ended up having sex in my car; the windows were steamed up from our kissing as it was. But I didn’t want that; I wanted to start this relationship as sanely as possible, despite my wanting to rip her clothes off and fuck her senseless.

Oh, don’t worry about that. My parents think I’m at a friend’s place,” she answered.

Hmm, her being willing and able to mislead her parents didn’t sit well with me at all. (In hindsight that was red flag number one.)

Krazy Girl was going away to family in south-west England for the next week, to stay with a cousin who had recently given birth to second child and needed help with the first child. So it came as a great surprise when the next morning when I was at work Krazy Girl sent me a text message saying that she hadn’t started her trip and wanted to see me again that night after work. At the agreed time I arrived at the same pub where we had first met and it turned out was only a block from her parents home.

After the initial courteous pleasantries she said, “I didn’t leave today because I wanted to see you again…and I wanted to talk to you about a few things.”

This sounded serious, so all I said was, “Riiight….”

I lost my job on Friday. They made me redundant. It’s another reason I’m going to my cousin’s, to get over the shock of it and to come up with a plan about what to do next.”

Okay. I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m sure something will come along for you,” I said, trying to show my supportive nature. We were sitting side by side on a bench and she put her hand on top of mine and squeezed it.

The other thing is that my failed marriage has really knocked my confidence with men. I’m a little scared of getting into a relationship too quickly,” she confided, still keeping her hand on top of mine.

My initial emotional response was one of feeling sorry for her, but my logical brain kicked and began wondering if she was trying to brush me off. I decided to respond as positively and compassionately as possible.

I can understand that. I felt the same way after my divorce. I’m in no hurry now either,” is what I came out with.

Good, I’m glad you understand,” Krazy Girl said with a smile. A very mysterious smile. 

Seeing as we were having a moment of honesty I seized the opportunity to discuss something serious too that had been on my mind.

I have to ask you about something. What are your feelings about children?” She was after all ten years younger than me and with time she might change her mind.

I had an infection on my ovaries when I was a teenager and the doctors said it was unlikely that I could have kids. I always thought that if I got broody I could always adopt,” was her frank reply, which suited me.

We shared a few more drinks and made small talk about the family that she was going to be staying with for the week. She told me that she had borrowed her father’s car for the trip and that she had a female rag-doll cat that she was going to drop off en route at another rag-doll owner’s place for the week to see if her cat could get pregnant. Krazy Girl was planning to return the following Monday, so we agreed to keep in touch by phone during the week.

Did she keep in touch? Every couple of hours the next day she phoned me when she stopped for petrol or food. I’d grab my phone and go to find a quiet corner to talk to her. Her level of interest and attention was unprecedented. I had assigned an unique ring-tone to her number on my phone and by the end of the day my colleagues were making funny remarks about that ring-tone, such was her idea of “keeping in touch”.

We spoke at night during the week and it became evident that Krazy Girl was not enjoying the stay at her cousin’s. It also became evident to me that I wanted her in every way possible, such was the intensity of my feelings for her. I could see myself being with her the rest of my life; she ticked all my boxes. (My lengthy list of tickboxes can be seen at: http://www.meanddating.com/2014/05/who-am-i-looking-for/ )

By the Friday night I felt like a bear trapped in a cage; all I wanted was Krazy Girl. That night there was an electrical storm where she was and the phone signal was poor but text messages were getting through. For some reason (okay, I was horny as all hell) I turned our late-night text conversation naughty. I started off subtly and then gradually escalated it, peppering her with increasingly risqué text messages until she wrote back, “Okay, that does it. I’m coming to you tomorrow. I’ll arrive just after lunchtime.”

My text message that got that response?

I’m looking forward to discovering what gets your blood flowing, what you love, how you’re going to react to the things that I can do to you and for you…the sounds you make, how you smell…I’m especially dying to know how you taste…I reckon you taste sweeter than you realize…”

That final message of mine left very little to her imagination. The effect it had was that the next day she drove at 100mph for 4 hours to get to me, abandoning the holiday with relatives. I had a roast lamb dinner ready for her arrival. I had planned to play it cool and smooth with her. A little clever conversation, some smiling and sly looks, suitable mood music and low lighting, the occasional loving touch with a lingering glance. I would break her fortress-like defences with a well-chosen bottle of wine. When the time was right I would make my move and, hopefully, let pleasure commence. 

What transpired was very different…

 

 

Online dating, dates, internet dating, romance, love, sex, relationships