Anticipating Serena (before the second date)

I’m anticipating my next date with Serena. Eagerly. (The first, I wrote about here, here, and here)

Thinking about how I want to spend my time with Serena is a joy. I can’t have her between the times that we’re together. Her life doesn’t permit it. Our relationship doesn’t really call for it, although, of course, I would welcome (fucking LOVE to have) it. 

As our date approached, she sent me three outfits to choose among. Each was understated, sexy, hot, not too revealing, not too slutty. I’m excited to see Serena’s body in these clothes. I chose outfit number three, which looked like either leggings or tight black jeans and a maroon top, designed to frame her breasts perfectly with a little hint of midriff and a strap around her navel.

Though I will be hungry (for food, and not just for her pretty, tiny, toned body) when we meet, and she too will be hungry (and not just for my cock), I don’t want to waste time eating in a restaurant. Instead, I think I’ll bring us food, and we’ll eat in while we eat each other. :-).

We’ll start with a drink, of course, in a bar, but we won’t last long there because I will need to have her body splayed out before me. We haven’t talked much about what I can and can’t do with her, but I’m pretty confident that none of what I want will displease her.

I want to tie her up. I want to blindfold her. I want to make her pleasure be the centerpiece of a significant chunk of our time together. I want to feel how wet I make her, to collect gallons of lubrication from her slick cunt on my fingers, my face, my cock. I want her to beg. I want her to struggle, to writhe, but to be prevented from writhing by the rope I will have affixed to her wrists and her ankles. I want to deploy her magic wand to great effect, to bring her to the agony of ecstasy, demarcated by the utterance of a safe word. I want her to beg me to stop over and over before finally, she gives in and says “red.”

And then I want to collect her enthusiasm in a different way: I want to unfasten the ties around her joints to position her between my legs, for my eyes to roll back in my head as her tongue finds my cock, as her lips glide along the head, the shaft, as she plays with my balls, as she feels just how hard I can be. We’ve talked about my asshole, something with which she has little experience, with which I want her to gain some. I want her to experiment, to press her thumb against my taint and then to slide it down to my puckered hole and to press against it, for her to lick her finger, wetting it so it can slide just a little bit in as my cock thrusts deep into her throat.

Like so many women, I know Serena wants my semen somewhere other than in her throat, on her chest, on her ass, on her belly. Though I’ve watched lots of porn, I’ve never understood this. I mean, I understand it aesthetically. Sure, it looks hot, and I can imagine it feels hot, but for me, the submission associated with welcoming my cum deep in her mouth will surely be my high point. I don’t care if she spits or swallows. The act of swallowing does nothing for me. If she wants it on her tits, she’s welcome to spit it out on her hands and lather it over her. Ditto her ass, or her belly, or all of them. But when that moment comes, when the end approaches, I want the intimacy of being deep inside of her. Most likely, as I’ve said, her mouth. 

But who knows? Anything is possible.

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