5 comments/ 50200 views/ 2 favorites That Feeling By: PassionForAll The first time I experienced it was at the breakfast buffet of the Serine Resort in Varadero, Matanzas, Cuba. My husband and I had just flown in from Toronto for our honeymoon, a joint wedding gift from both sets of parents. It was our first morning there together and I was still groggy from the night before. We were in a long line of people, most of them dressed in their bathing suits and carrying towels over their shoulders. I had on a neon pink bikini, which I wore beneath a gauzy white skirt and black tank top, with rope soled thong sandals and white sunglasses. He was dressed in navy blue shorts and a white band tee shirt. Black wraparounds obscured his eyes. We hadn't spoken more than a few words to each other since the previous evening—just the quiet smiles of a newlywed couple—and I can remember to this day the delicious afterglow of newlywed sex that we basked in. I can recall with ease the love I felt for him, the lust that made me want to forego breakfast altogether—I had suggested as much—but which I had somehow contained in order to satisfy the simpler of his two needs. Matt never liked to miss a meal. Just thinking his name brought to mind his presence behind me. He was close: so close, a warm reassurance of the rightness of my world. I knew that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. And I also knew that I couldn't wait to get back to the room so I could be alone with him, just the two of us. The line moved slowly. The servers behind the sneeze barriers seemed half asleep, like I was, and doled out portions of the resort's meager offering of fresh food—omelets made to order, waffles with cane sugar syrup—as if they knew how desperately I wanted to be done with it all. When offered, I took one of the waffles. It was dark brown and crispy and looked delicious. Moving past the servers, I came to the hot table, where trays of premade food sat under bright red heat lamps: hash brown potatoes, scrambled eggs, sausages and bacon. I remember I picked up the bacon tongs, thinking I would grab a crispy piece, since they tend to have less fat and less chance of being underdone. But before I could actually do so, I felt Matt's hand close over mine. "You don't need that," he said gently. "What—" "You know you'll regret it later. Besides, you always get sick when you eat pork." "But I want some bacon," I persisted. His grip tightened. "No. You don't." His voice was quiet but, nevertheless, people at the nearby tables turned to look at us. "Matt," I whispered, "Let go of me. Please. People are staring." He held on for a moment longer, his eyes not leaving mine. As soon as he judged that enough people had seen, he let go. "Fine," he whispered, "Get sick. Just don't expect anything but 'I told you so' from me." And he stalked away. Furious, I grabbed a pile of bacon and put it onto my plate, then left the line and made for the vacant section in the far corner of the room. I had originally intended to eat alone, but found myself sitting down across from him, in spite of myself, at a two-person table up against the white stone barrier that separated the dining area from a small garden. He never said a word. He barely even looked at me. I remember the food had no taste. Its texture made me retch with every bite. Yet I ate it all, mechanically chewing and swallowing until I'd finished everything on the plate. Everything, that is, except for the bacon. I couldn't bring myself to touch it. When the waiter came to clear our plates away I felt guilty, ashamed. My eyes went from the pile of uneaten food to his kind face, then, automatically, over to my husband. He smiled at me, and I knew that behind his glasses his eyes were smiling, too. There was a night's worth of stubble on his cheeks—the sight of which always made me want to feel it against me—and his skin was very pale. But his smile was bright. It was sunny. It was vibrant and alive. In the face of it, I was powerless. The anger I felt melted away. It left nothing but shame in its wake. "I'm sorry," I said. "What?" he said. "I didn't hear you." "I said I'm sorry, Matt." He didn't reply. Just kept smiling that awful smile. Until, finally, he said: "You know I'm just looking out for you. Right, Alice?" I nodded. "I love you and I don't want to see bad things happen to you. Remember, you even told me yourself that pork makes you sick. How can you enjoy yourself if you're stuck in bed, or worse, on the toilet, for our honeymoon?" He reached across the table and caressed my cheek. "Am I right?" I nodded. "Say it." "You're right, Matt. I'm sorry." "That's okay, baby. I know how you get sometimes." My eyes focused on the logo emblazoned across his chest. My expression remained neutral. "Now," his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "Why don't we go back to the room and pick up where we left off last night?" I tried to keep his shirt in focus, but my gaze wandered as my mind processed his words. Out over the tops of the stone barrier and the hedge beyond, past the swimming pools and outbuildings that housed the specialty restaurants and dance club, I stared at the white sand and turquoise waters of the pristine beach. Part of me wished that I was there at that moment, laying on a white chaise lounge beneath the bright Caribbean sun. That part of me hated the rest for acquiescing so easily when I knew I was right. That part of me was strong. Unfortunately, that part of me was also in the minority. To my surprise, the smouldering remains of my earlier lust rekindled, took flame. I agreed wholeheartedly, and, when he offered me his hand, I took it. Later, when we were in the throes of our third bout of lovemaking, I found myself fixated on the first moment his hand had gripped mine: the shame, the sense of powerlessness that I felt. I thought about my burning cheeks and teary eyes and wounded pride. All of that, I focused on as he slammed into me and I clenched him tightly and held him inside me as we both screamed our pleasure into the quiet, air-conditioned room. I remember feeling torn emotionally as he climbed off of me, kissed me on the lips, rolled over and went to sleep. I remember that I didn't know whether to hate myself or hate him for what had happened. I remember I cried for a long time afterwards. Then I was okay. That Feeling Again... It was a familiar feeling, and a welcome one. Almost a year since our first encounter, I was again lying naked on a bed awaiting my secret lover. The tension in my tummy was familiar, as was the wet warmth between my legs. I knew he was due to arrive, but not knowing the exact second he would join me kept the tension growing as the moments ticked by. My mind buzzed with the memories of our previous encounter and the prospect of this night. Could it possibly be as good? It was getting hard to control my breathing as my eyes saw only the flashing lights of my consciousness under the blindfold I was wearing. When I heard the door click gently open I felt the twin rushes of relief and desire wash over my naked skin. I knew he could see me. I knew he was there, in the room with me. I could already feel the heat he had brought with him. ***** "You're going to be at the convention?" It was impossible to hide my delight. I hadn't expected that he would be there and already my mind was jumping with the possibilities. I was part-organizer of our annual sales convention and he was one of my prime contacts. We talked most days and I made sure we were providing the right level of service to his company. I guess I should have expected that he would accept our invitation, but maybe I was just being cautious about his attendance, lest my imagination run away with me about a second encounter with him. Months ago, as a carefree nineteen year-old, when I'd told him of my fantasy that involved an older man and a four-poster bed, he very sexily offered to make it become reality. I still don't quite understand what propelled me to accept and go through with it, but when we met he added his own touches of a blindfold and some wrist restraints to my fantasy. That evening, completely at his mercy, was the most amazing experience of my life. Even though we both often talked fondly about a repeat liaison, we had yet to make it happen. I didn't know what my fantasy lover or his lovely cock looked like, but my entire body knew how they felt, and I burned to feel like that again. "Hey, if we're both going to be there... do you think that..." It was obvious he wasn't going to ask, but I couldn't resist putting the question out there. "Would you like to?" I could hear the smile in his voice that indicated he already knew the answer. "Very much." I admitted quietly, realizing that my hand had dropped to the front of my panties as the prospect excited me. Over the next few days we agreed the details, and I found my evenings filled with relentless masturbation as I attempted fruitlessly to quell the anticipation of our reunion. Our arrangements were simple—we would meet in my room after the convention dinner. I was to be naked, as before, and wearing the blindfold he'd left with me first time we met. Wiping the smile off my face as the date approached was impossible. For the whole first day of the two-day event I scanned the attendees to see if I could find him. This was not easy as I had no idea what he looked like. Of course, I could have asked someone, but there was something about the excitement of knowing he was there, that he would have recognized me without my knowing, that was a sort of spell I did not want to break. As I continually looked at the men around me I found myself smiling often with the thought that I could be looking straight at him without knowing it. When the formal dinner was over and my duties for the day were complete, I retired to my room and excitedly stripped. I'd left a message for him so he knew which room I was in, and I expected him within a half-hour of the dinner's completion. Slipping out of my skirt, I scanned the room. Whilst not as luxurious and missing the incredible four-poster bed from the room we used last time, it was comfortable enough. I turned down the air conditioning which had made my nipples stand proud, and sat on the edge of the bed while I tied on the blindfold. Then I lay back and waited, naked. "You look spectacular." I heard the feint tinkle of glass-on-glass as he closed the door and walked into the room. When he placed the bottle and glasses on the side table, the sound was unmistakable. My body was so alive, knowing he could see me, naked, and that I had to guess at his movements. "Thank you." I said as bravely as I could. "I've been so excited all day." "Yes." His footsteps seemed to circle the bed. "I must say, I've been looking forward to this for some time myself. See?" He took hold of my hand and guided it to feel the outside of his pants. Inside I could easily feel an unmistakable hardness and I willingly rubbed my palm against it. It was the first time I had ever touched him as during our previous encounter my hands had been tied. "Oh," he sniggered, "I forgot. You can't see." He took my hand from his pants and laid it softly back onto the bed. "You have beautiful eyes." He said as his pacing resumed. "I saw them today, for the first time." When I felt his hand on my skin the fire inside me started to burn furiously, and I felt my control over my breathing disappear momentarily. His fingertips eased along my side, up from my hip towards my breasts. As he reached them he cupped his hand and caressed the underside of one mound, allowing his thumb to run over my nipple. The growing heat between my legs caused me to part my thighs a tiny bit. He continued to massage my breast with his hand as he spoke with that familiar rich and mature voice. "You have such a wonderful body. It's been hard to get our last meeting out of my mind. Do you mind if I kiss you now?" I nodded from my pillow, knowing that a whole year's anticipation would affect my vocal chords if I tried to speak. He approached slowly, allowing me to hear his breathing and prepare for his lips meeting mine. He tasted sweet and I hungrily opened my mouth for his tongue. We kissed for several minutes, slowly, while his hand continued to rub at my breast and I started to relax and enjoy the moment. When he pulled away from me he calmly stated, "Would you like some champagne while I get undressed? I brought some with me." "Please." I sat up a little, the first time I had been anything other than completely horizontal in his presence. "Would you like me to take this off?" I pointed at the blindfold. "That's your choice, my dear." I could hear the smile in his voice and the wet sound of him pouring our drinks. "I don't mind, but you must remember that it changes everything. If you take it off, we can never meet quite like this again. We will never again be able to feel the pleasure of you not knowing what I look like. And believe me, that is quite a pleasure for me." "And me too." I nodded, still not sure of what I should do. He took my hand and placed a champagne flute in it. I thought of the exquisite anticipation of our meeting, the unknown, and my heightened senses of hearing, touch, and smell caused by the depravation of my sight. Without giving him a final answer, we both moved on, sensing it was best for me to keep it this time. As I sipped at the glass of fizz, I could hear him unbuckle his pants and pull them off. I imagined that he continued to remove his clothing but there was little sound to be identified. Then the bed depressed on my right hand side as he sat next to me. I fumbled to place my glass on the bedside table then reached out to touch him. I found the soft skin of his side and brought my hand around to touch his chest. It was hairy, in a manly way, but not too much. I felt my face grow into a huge smile when I found his nipple and started to play with it between my fingers. I felt his fingers start to wander along the length of my thighs that sent tingles of pleasure through my nervous system. "Tell me," he whispered, "what have you most wanted to do with me? What have you thought about most since last time?" Of course there was something, and even though I'd thought about it so many times over the months, the words could only stumble from my mouth. "I... I've been wondering what you... what you taste like... how you'd feel in my mouth." "My, my," he laughed lightly, "seems like we've been thinking the same things." I could feel him climb up to straddle my legs on the bed and ease my back further upright with his strong, but soft hands. It was a whole new sensation for me—not being tied up while he was with me, but still blindfolded. He seemed to understand this though, and his hands took hold of mine and guided them to wrap around his hard cock, which was now only a foot or so from my face. He felt much bigger than I remembered, even though I didn't hold him last time. He was very hard, and the head of his cock was large and solid as I ran my fingers all around it. "Nice." I whispered, as I continued my exploration to his balls and along his shaft. As I took a slightly tighter grip and eased my hand towards me to stroke him, I felt his skin move more than I had been expecting, and gasped as I realized he was uncircumcised. As I continued to massage him gently with one hand on his shaft and the other taking the weight of his balls, he let his hands explore my breasts a little more, concentrating on the nipples. Occasionally, he would lean forward to kiss my neck while I stroked him and enjoyed the novelty of my first uncut cock. His cock held firmly in my hand, I eased forward and guided his hard head into my mouth. Several times I closed my mouth around the head and drew my lips over him, wetting him, before I took him deeper. As I rubbed the underside of his cock-head slowly with my tongue, I swallowed half of his length. I felt him sigh deeply as I swallowed a little more of him, and wrapped my hands around to hold his bottom cheeks. His hardness as his only support, I licked all over his gorgeous cock, lapping at the base of it and slipping the head into my mouth at every opportunity. "God," he gasped, "you do that so well my young friend." I felt his hand lift my hair and let it fall through his fingers. "When I saw you this afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be in your mouth." Two things I normally love when I'm sucking a cock are to look up at the owner's face, and to see the cock close-up. Deprived of those options, I was able to concentrate more than ever on how he felt in my mouth and how he reacted to the movements of my lips and tongue. He seemed to like the gentle pressure I applied to his balls, so I took a slightly firmer hold and pulled a little harder. He moaned with pleasure as I pulled a second time and I felt a huge pulsing twitch from his cock as it almost jumped in my mouth. Reaching behind him, his fingertips were tracing spirals on my thigh for what seemed like hours before he dragged them across the bottom of my belly and down into the trimmed bush above my pussy. I could only ease my legs apart a small amount as he was straddling me, but it was enough for him to slide his fingers down and rub the insides of my thighs. When his single finger eventually did come to find my dripping pussy, it was all I could do not to let go of his ass and help him thrust into me. Instead, there was a familiar touch that started with him exploring my pussy lips and then dipping a fingertip tantalizingly inside me, coating him with my excitement. As I slurped some more on his lovely cock, I felt him push downward and slip his finger all the way along my opening. Sliding easily back and forth, he reminded us both how wet I get when I'm really excited. "As hard as it is to resist your wonderful mouth..." he lifted one leg over me, pulling his cock out of my mouth, "I have to tell you that I have waited a long time to taste you again, to see your beautiful pussy and savor it close-up. I hope you don't mind." Without waiting for my answer he opened my legs with his hands and spread me before him. I fell back against the bed and sensed him looking at me, while his hands traced all over my thighs, with an increasing intensity and proximity to the source of my building fire. He seemed to wait forever before he touched me with his tongue, almost as though he knew I was waiting for it, yet not knowing when. It was worth the wait though, as he guided his firm tongue over my outer lips and allowed it to quickly find my clit. I sighed repeatedly with pleasure as he teased my clit with the tip of his tongue, and then lapped at the length of my opening before placing the tip back on my clit. It felt like my own juices were dripping off his tongue and running over my clit as he paused there, before teasing me and repeating the action. "Does this bring back memories?" He asked from between my legs. "Only good ones." I panted as the pleasure started to wash over me in waves that made me want to shiver. "I can't believe that it feels even better than I remember." He declined to engage in further conversation for a few moments, preferring to continue his hungry lapping at me, which was definitely my preference also. While my memories of our previous time together were dominated by the awesome feeling of him inside me, I'd almost forgotten how expertly dexterous his tongue was. It was a pleasure to remember as he plunged as deep as he could, twisting his tongue inside me before retracting it, circling my clit slowly and tracing the folds of my pussy with the tip. Several times he used his lips to kiss my glistening lips, gently pulling on them and opening me up. I loved every sensation and was drifting towards the inevitable as his hands started to run all over the insides of my thighs. I reached down and instinctively pulled myself wider for him, encouraging his administration of my pleasure in another way that hadn't been possible for us previously. As he delivered several long slow licks up the length of my hot and wet opening, my feet slid up the bed and my knees splayed even further as I started to lose all control of my body to its needs. "God," he panted up at me from between my legs, "you taste so sweet. You look so good down here too. You have such a perfect little pussy." It felt anything but "little" at that moment, swollen with the heat and excitement and dominating my body's sensations as it was. "You have such a good way with it," I chuckled, "I think it likes you." He asked, "Would you like me to finish this job?" while he stroked my thighs and maintained contact so I knew where he was even though I could not see him. "Or would you like me to be inside you?" It was a dilemma I wished I faced every day in life, but given that we had only this single night, the choice wasn't as tough as it might have been otherwise. "Come inside." I breathed down to him. "Come inside me. I've thought about that so much, relived it more than anything else." I reached out and grasped his wrist and encouraged him to come up and kiss me. As our mouths opened as wide as they could in our passion, I pulled him close and felt the heat of his cock on my thigh. My tongue hungrily pressed and twisted on his as we ground into each other, our sexes almost finding their own way to coupling before he broke the kiss and eased me on my right side. When I felt him slide his body behind me, I started to get the idea of what he had in mind and reached for his cock down between my own legs. As he worked his arm under my neck, I gripped his steely cock and rubbed it against my pussy with my palm. When he shifted his body downwards, I knew he was ready to enter me. Pressing hard on the head of his cock, I guided him to sink into the silky folds of my pussy as he thrust gently into me. I heard him sigh as his length disappeared between my legs, and I felt him fill me with pleasing, pulsating, hot flesh. With him finally inside, I allowed myself a sigh. It was almost a relief, to be so fulfilled once again. As always, he was in no hurry to simply pound at me and climax. He was in no hurry to do anything. I felt his right hand search out and cup my left breast and his left hand wander all over my thigh and buttock. When he pulled me open from behind, I felt him slide in another half-inch and then close me around him tighter than ever. As my nipple hardened like a pebble between his fingers, I felt the first strokes of his cock start to gently move in and out of me, and the fires of our passion ignite their largest blaze yet, right between my thighs. His was the only cock I've ever known that was so hard, I could feel the rim of its head as it rubbed up and down my pussy walls. He was thrusting long and slow, withdrawing almost to the point he might slip out of me, and then plunging deeply through my hot and silky tunnel. At first I reached behind me and pulled him into me with his strokes, but as the rhythm continued, I reached down between my legs to feel for his balls and let his shaft run along my fingers as he withdrew and thrust time after time. I could hear in his breathing, as he gently kissed my neck, and knew that his excitement was building at a similar rate to mine. It was no surprise when he brought his hand around to my pussy and started to massage my clit. I lifted my left leg as high as I could, both to help his access to my pussy, and allow me to feel as much as I could of his thick cock and heavy balls, while they continued to work me as deep as they could. His thrusts were still slow enough that he could delicately nibble on my ear as his head snuggled behind me. It was another assault on my senses that were now starting to scream with a need for release. I moaned involuntarily as he rubbed my clit with fingers that were slick with my juice. He slowed his circular movements down, keeping me as close as he could without tipping me over the edge. It was the small expert touches that I so appreciated and never got from lovers my own age. I knew I was smiling a silly grin that was getting sillier with every small movement, but I couldn't help it. This was what I'd waited a long time for. I wanted him to come for me, just as I knew I was about to do for him, but words were beyond me, as I concentrated on the red cloud inside my blindfold that I expected to explode into a million fireworks at any moment. "Are you ready for me?" he whispered in my ear as he thrust long and deep, and tweaked my nipple deliciously harder. "Yes!" I replied breathlessly, feeling his hand immediately start swirling around my clit and his breathing become punctuated by small grunts. Just as I felt myself begin to tip over the edge into my orgasmic pool of pleasure, I heard him exhale loudly and felt his cock fill me even more as he started to climax. Only seconds behind him, the warm flood of high-voltage nerve tingles soared through my body, as his come started to flush into my pussy. The whole time I was coming, my hand was clamping his to my clit, willing him to wring the very most out of this moment, and my body shook from the results of my blind fucking. All through my climax, I felt him continue to thrust, spurting hot come into me with such force that I actually felt it ram against me. As his orgasm subsided, and his come started to run out of me and around my thigh, we started to slowly catch our breath. He made no move to withdraw, and we settled into a tight hug, his body still behind mine with his hand clamped to my breast. I remember thinking that I wanted to say something about how good our repeat performance had been for me, but all I could do was lie there and let the incredible post-orgasmic euphoria fill the room with his cock still inside me. The last thing I remember before I fell asleep was the soft kisses he was placing on my neck. ***** When the alarm went off, I hit the snooze button instinctively, mildly surprised that I didn't wake during the night. The room was bright as my blindfold was now around my neck, and my body felt tired but so very alive. That Feeling Again... The first thing I noticed was that his cock was gone, which took a few seconds as he had felt so natural inside me. Then I realized all of him was gone. There was no big shock for me here, I simply smiled and sighed as images from the night before drifted into my mind. When the alarm warned me it really was time to get up, I stepped out of the bed naked and looked around the room. I knew it would be here somewhere, and I wasn't disappointed. Picking up the sheet of hotel notepaper I read, "That was a spectacular night. I told you I wanted to be with you again and that's still true, though next time without the blindfold. I shall be watching you today. I'll see you smile. I'll be thinking about last night, as I hope you will also. Till next time, my beautiful friend..." I smiled at every older man I saw that day... wondering which one of them I'd been with the night before, which one of them knew how to pleasure me more than anyone I'd ever known.