Our first encounter was through a friend of his wife. It happened as most things do these days, purely by chance. I was the young bisexual that she decided to experiment with. She and I had been leaving a movie theater when she spotted him and just had to say hello. He was a handsome man, much older than I am but I couldn't really pinpoint an age. All I knew was that I had to have him. He looked at me and nodded as she spoke half listening as he noticed my nipples in the basically sheer top that I was wearing. I cleared my throat and he looked at me very unashamed of what I caught him doing. I was intrigued by him. Quite soon Frieda tired of her own voice and we took off. Late that night as I was heading home I saw him again in the only diner that this town had. I walked in and sat at the counter ordering a coffee. I must have looked so out of place at the time with my bleached red hair curly all over my head. I could feel him looking at my back, scanning me from the nape of my neck to my tiny waist then down to my very round hips and ass.
Pretty soon he came up and introduced himself to me. Stanley... mmm I could already hear myself moaning it.
"And you are..." he questioned. I bit my lip and answered, "Raven... Raven Moon." Maybe he thought I was kidding but I didn't care. I told him I was a writer but was too shy to get my work published. I couldn't wait to tell him that I specialized in erotica.
His eyes were glued to my tits again.
"Up here, Stan." I said to him his face slowly shifted up but his eyes landed on my lips.
"They are pierced you know" I told him. He looked at me puzzled, "My nipples, they are pierced. Do you want to see" I asked.
"But aren't you a les...." "No." I cut him off, "I am bisexual, born and bred."
I noticed that he cupped his cock like it was big and heavy. 'Misogynist' I thought. He has the attitude of one of those young boys running around.
"You strike me as an asshole." I told him. He smiled at me. The first smile I'd seen from him ever and I was shocked at how he moved me. That confident smirk, his hand cupping his dick as if he were the only man in the world. I almost laughed at his foolish chauvinistic behavior until I realized that it turned me on... so very much. I touched his thigh then and asked him to take me home.
The drive wasn't long, I lived close by. Frankly, I could have walked. He gripped the wheel nervously as I unlocked the door. I stopped and invited him in I knew he wouldn't decline.
Once inside I told him that he never answered my question. Did he or did he not want to see my nipples. He swallowed hard as I removed my shirt. He reached out and pulled on my left nipple than my right, a man hadn't touched me in years.
"I knew who you were when I first saw you," I whispered "I know you aren't called Stanley. I'm a fan." I admitted.
He looked at me closely and kissed me with an abandon that I didn't expect. I led him into the bedroom and let him undress me, first my jeans then my panties. He buried his face between my thighs and licked at me softly. I gasped as his tongue went across my pierced clit. I held tightly to the sheets before I pulled him on top of me. He kissed my neck and my shoulders as he undid his pants with one hand before sliding them off. I grabbed at him trying to feel his length with my hands before he guided himself into me.
I clutched his shoulders as he buried his hard, pulsing shaft deep into me. It had been so long that it almost hurt. I bucked up against him trying to fit him deeper inside of me. His hands fondled my breasts gently, squeezing and cupping their fullness before they wandered down to my hips. He pulled at me then lifting me higher before delivering his fullness deeper into me until our bodies met. I'd never felt such pleasure as he fucked me so wildly. We rolled and writhed against each other without inhibitions. Every kiss opened me up to him. I felt a tightness coil in the pit of my belly that shot straight out into my pussy as I was sent off into a blissful orgasm. I gripped him with my walls pulsating around his thick cock as if I never wanted him to leave me. He moaned then, something low and deep that pushed me over the edge again into an abyss. I felt him tense up as his thrusts became more shallow and he emptied himself into me as I came with him, over and over again.
We lay there for a while talking.
"Will you write about me" He asked I nodded yes. Soon he dressed and left. Every now and again we meet and he gives me new material to write about. He is the muse that never fails.
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