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Every year my head of department invited me to his special wine tasting. Desmond had been a country boy scholarship winner from North East Victoria. His academic career had settled him in Melbourne but he never lost touch with his country roots and childhood friends. A few of them had taken over their family’s farms and become vintners. They sent their friend Des annually a generous sample of their latest bottling.
Usually once during the academic year, Desmond decided that a particular vintage in his growing collection had reached perfection. He would invite a select group of us to a tasting. Apart from me, the other members of our party worked in different departments of our university. They had met Desmond in his role as independent chairperson, and often peacemaker, on various committees. This year five of us knew each other from previous tastings. The two things we knew about the three newcomers were that they appreciated wine and that they, like us, had won Des’s friendship.
What was unusual this year was that Des had invited a woman to join us. He, like many other male teachers, had responded to the Me-Too onrush of accusations against men by avoiding any personal, non-formal relationship with female students and staff. What was different about this woman that Des had invited her to a party of males in his home?
We surreptitiously looked her over: she was tall, slim, a brunette with shoulder-length hair, no discernible make-up and casually dressed in jeans, a plain t-shirt and runners. We were put somewhat at ease when she introduced herself with a cheery, “Hi, all. I’m Kate from Biology. I’m still new here.”
Introductions over, we settled comfortably into Des’ large and homely, intergenerationally over-furnished living room. The big red Des had selected for more than just a furtive tasting was superb. It was accompanied by a generous feed of cheese, smoked ham and thick slices of country bread laid out on a sideboard for the taking. The relaxed, unfussed mood found us quickly companionably engaged in relishing the offerings, and a lively exchange of laughter and talk.
For us previous acquaintances, the talk switched naturally to the news and changes in our lives since we were together at Des’s last year’s party. I told them that after my divorce was concluded I had bought an apartment in Carlton. I lived now close to the university and might invite them over for a drink. Regarding the divorce, mine wasn’t the only one. But – with a sideway glimpse at new member Kate – we male divorcees swallowed the hurtful details and turned to the wine and food.
When I asked Desmond where he had located this wonderful cheddar cheese, a movement by Kate made me look at her. She, holding a plate, chimed in, “God, Desmond, with your wine this cheese is worth dying for!” Looking up at Des, Kate licked a finger, swept the plate to collect the remaining cheese crumbs and then pushed the loaded finger into her mouth for an appreciative suck.
Desmond laughed and moved away and Kate’s eyes shifted to me. With her dark eyes wide open and the laugh wrinkles behind her oversized fashion glasses, she let her finger demonstratively plop out of her mouth. Then she leaned back in her chair and pulled her legs up under her. Lifting her wine glass inviting me to toast, Kate gave me a broad smile and said, “So, to life and all you and I seem to enjoy.”
Without wanting to be too quickly won over, I merely raised my glass in response. But now really looking at her for the first time, I was stricken by the openness and beauty of Kate’s strong, intelligent face. Also, as she lounged in her chair, Kate neither hid nor displayed her slim body’s allure from my furtive eyes. The well-shaped ankles left uncovered by her jeans, and the enticing shape of her smallish breasts under her t-shirt caused me a politically incorrect stirring in the groin.
I tried not to stare but it was long enough for Kate to notice. In leaning back her boobs suddenly showed nipples of pointy perfection under her stretched top. Kate momentarily turned her eyes down on their betrayal. When she looked up again, she gave me a knowing, not at all chastising smile.
The magical moment passed, and Kate and I were drawn into the lively exchange of opinions about our work situation. Eventually, our talk turned to the, most of us felt, increasing alienation of us in our university jobs. Be it in the humanities, sciences, marketing or psychology, the language in which we think, teach and write has become for the outside world a foreign tongue. And with it, we have become either half-understood or ignored.
I do not know if it was the wine or the sideways glance at Kate that made me burst into this general debate with a personal confession. With an embarrassed guffaw, I said, “You have just given me the perfect excuse for my writing for Literotica.”
There was a moment of silence, then suppressed laughter before Roger, the mathematician, declared, “Oh, I see! Benjamin, our English prof, has started to write porn?”
“And our Balıkesir Escort pure maths colleague knows all about the porn in Literotica!”, commented David dryly.
This scored applause and tension-easing laughter. It encouraged me to give my reasons for what I was doing:
“My friends, I wanted to find out if I still could write. I mean differently, in a way that would be read and enjoyed by ordinary people. Requiring proof, I had to make my writings available. But how? They were not for our academic journals. Eager to have my story published, I settled on Literotica. It offered me for free a large and interestingly mixed readership. There was a price to pay. I had to shed my inhibitions in writing entertainingly and sexually arousing about erotic experiences.”
I leaned back in my chair. Suddenly brave, I faced Kate as I concluded, “Yes, I needed to become sexually unashamed. Since then, some twenty-thousand anonymous readers have followed and enjoyed my disreputable stories. When it comes to sex, my language and my stories must have found the common touch!”
Kate’s eyes had not wavered in looking at me. She had sucked in her lower lip. Suppressing a question, Kate blushed. None of the others asked about the details of my contributions to Literotika either, and our talking switched back to general matters.
When our party broke up and we gathered around Desmond for our Thank You and Good Byes, Kate stood close to me. So close, that her breast pressed attention demanding against my arm.
Then her breath caressed my cheek as she whispered, “Ben, I have questions I didn’t dare ask. Can I text you?”
I looked down to see the phone in her hand resting against my hip. Its screen was lit up on ‘Contacts’. Turning towards Kate, sheltered by our bodies, I typed in my phone number and private mail address. In looking down, our foreheads touched and neither she nor I pulled back.
But then we went home our separate ways. I strongly felt it was the wrong ending to the night. However, as I was undressing to go to bed, my phone binged.
Looking at the screen I suddenly knew the unknown number had to be Kate:
“Dear Ben, I have to send you this request while I am still in the afterglow of D’s wine and remembering/feeling what tonight has happened between us. You looked at me and wanted me! You did, didn’t you? I felt it so strongly. Therefore, I dare to ask you to let me read your stories. I want to know how you write, how you feel about sex, women and — yes, I admit it — their (and your!) sexual passion. Are you shocked? Is it too much to ask? Will you mail me the titles of your stories? Or your Username in Literotica? You see, I dare to be as shameless as you!!?? Kate.”
“Dear shameless Kate, I love your brave, in ‘afterglow’ penned, message. How can I refuse your wish and not hope that you, being aware of the sensual vibes between us, will like and respond to the sex and passion in my stories? My Erotica username is Benultimo. What will happen if you give me a 5, the highest mark? Will that be all for you? I am intrigued, and yes, Kate, hoping for more! Ben.”
There was no immediate reply. Over the next five days, I used some contacts to find out about Kate and her background.
Kate was a Western Australian who had undertaken further studies in California, completing her doctorate in Plant Biology at Berkeley. She secured her lecturer position in Melbourne nine months ago. Beyond learning that Kate was probably in her early thirties and appeared to be unattached, my contacts knew nothing more about her past and present life.
On the sixth day, late at night, Kate’s mail arrived:
“Dear Ben, I hope this reaches you in bed for I am typing it, after having tossed and squirmed for the last hour, in mine. Will naked me now dare to say all? I have read your stories and relished especially the longer ones. To me, they are romances of beautiful, guilt-free, life- and self-affirming sex between fully engaged and consenting partners. What arouses me most in your stories is that your women wait not to be picked up and taken by predatory males. They all make bravely the opening move on the partner they desire! It encourages me to follow their example. When and where can we, will we meet? I would love it to be over a hot chilli-dinner at my place, or yours. I somehow know you must be an accomplished cook. All great lovers are! When will you let me know? Will I get some sleep tonight? Kate.”
“Dearest Kate, Come tomorrow, 7 pm to 27/608 Canning Street, Carlton. A deliciously hot dinner and I will be waiting. For tonight, sleep well and sweet dreams. Ben.”
At a quarter past seven, with the Chilli Con Carne close to perfection, Kate rang my bell at the main entrance. Not wishing to punish her for being late, I not only quickly unlocked the entrance but went out to the lift to welcome her.
The woman stepping out of the lift with a surprised laugh at my presence took my breath away. I had only seen Kate – yes, fallen under her spell — dressed Balıkesir Escort Bayan in loose-fitting jeans and a plain cotton top. Today she wore a close-fitting, silver-grey silk blouse under her loose open jacket. An equally close-tailored black skirt, slitted to her thighs to let her walk, highlighted the perfection of Kate’s long legs. Her ankles – I had fallen in lust with them before – were now encircled by the straps of dressy, high-heeled sandals. As Kate stepped unhesitatingly in my in-surprise half-raised arms, she was almost as tall as my six foot two.
Kate brought her lips immediately temptingly close to mine to murmur, “Kiss me, Ben. Let’s get over the first awkwardness of our beginnings. We like each other, don’t we?”
When her lips opened slightly and the tip of her tongue slyly ventured on mine, I drank in the hot breath she tried to hold back. And then we sank into a long, telling-all kiss, and her arms and mine pressed our bodies into a voluptuous one. Kate’s nipples rubbed against my chest. When my rising cock nestled into her crotch, Kate’s legs parted as wide as her tight skirt allowed. She welcomed it by moaning deep into my mouth.
Although we were alone in the hallway, we had to break apart.
“My God, Kate, what a tempting beginning. But there is also a dinner waiting for us. Not only a bed.” I said with a grin as I led her into my apartment.
We went straight into the kitchen, filled with the rich smell of the ready Chilli Con Carne on the stove. The table was all set.
“It will be a hot dinner. May I relieve you of your jacket?”
Stripping it slowly from Kate’s shoulders, I bent forward to plant a kiss on the nape of her neck while my hands half-cupped her stretching-out breasts. Kate’s ass immediately pressed back against my quickly hardening cock. It assured me that Kate’s mind and blood were as hotly as mine, set on the carnal feasting to come.
However, the wait did not spoil our appetite for the meal I had prepared. The Chilli’s invigorating heat was tempered by side dishes of new baby potatoes and a cucumber salad, both in my special yoghurt dressing. It being such a special occasion, I replaced the usual beer with a chilled bottle of King Valley Prosecco, keeping one in reserve for later.
Kate and I did the same with the intimate questions about us and the needs and desires that brought us together. So, we chatted about our jobs and general background, with both of us weaving in some personal information that we felt was for the other important to know. I told Kate that I was forty-two, divorced, no children. During the three years since the marital breakdown, I had almost deliberately remained unattached.
Meeting Kate’s look of disbelief, I grinned and confessed, “But not quite celibate. There were two beautiful married women; they comforted me in succession. They are still married and we have remained friends.”
Kate’s reaction was difficult to read. She talked about her growing up on a wheat farm in Western Australia, and then the seven years of her life and studies in California. Looking somewhat wistfully across the table, Kate admitted she had been engaged.
Shortly before getting married, she had taken flight and returned to Australia:
“I ran away from something I could not live with. Since then, now fifteen months ago, I’ve been unattached.”
With a forced laugh she added, “Unlike you, I’ve been celibate. Until Desmond’s party, no man has threatened my nun-like state.”
Seeing my bewildered look, Kate giggled and raised her glass, “Let’s drink to a happy ending for my unnatural condition. The bubbly is all gone. You will take me to bed now, won’t you, Ben? This nun is on fire. God, I’m ready to shed my habit!”
Kate paused, “And fuck!”
Getting up from the table, Kate stretched. Then she provocatively assumed a pose that showed off her dress clinging to her sinuous body.
Smiling down at me, she said, “Thanks to you and your sexy stories the nun’s habit is gone forever. I went shopping today to buy sexy clothing just for tonight! And especially, for you to strip me, piece by piece, till I am naked and shivering to be loved.”
Stretching out her hand, Kate whispered, “Come now, come, Ben. I’ve been waiting for this too long!”
When we stopped next to the bed in the bedroom, I turned to Kate. Cradling her face, I gently kissed her on her lips, her cheeks, her eyes her forehead. Then I whispered in her ear that she made me the luckiest man on earth, that she was the most beautiful, sexiest and excitingly naughtiest woman I had ever known or invented in my stories.
All the while, I gently caressed her face and hair, desisting from groping. When I sat down on the bed, Kate stood between my legs. As I started to pull her blouse out of the skirt, Kate, eagerly began to undo the blouse’s tiny buttons. However, I only pushed the fabric up to the beginning of Kate’s orbs.
Drawing her in surprise heaving midriff to my mouth, I sank my tongue into her Escort Balıkesir navel while my hands gripped the still skirt-covered firmness of her ass. Kate yelped in surprise. Pushing aside her unbuttoned blouse, she grabbed my head to drag my mouth up onto her already stiff-perky nipples.
I resisted because my searching fingers had found the zips on either side of Kate’s skirt. Confronted with the choice of getting familiar with Kate’s glorious tits or her yet unseen tempting pussy, I decided on the latter.
I unzipped the skirt on both sides and in one swift move slid it down to Kate’s ankles. As my fingers dug into and parted her buttocks, my lips moved south. After kiss by kiss over her tensing belly, my lips and my tongue began teasing the edges of Kate’s well-trimmed triangle of dark hair which left the deliciously plump shape of her pussy-lips on sight.
Kate’s hands were in my hair. They did not push me away, nor did her hoarsely whispered words discourage me:
“Do you like your nun’s pussy, Ben? Until this afternoon it was covered with a bush hiding-all for the last fifteen months. I trimmed and shaped it for us tonight because this nun’s pussy is hot and hungry to be seen and loved, kissed and fingered and fucked. Ben, it will be all-new, like never before. But first, let me undress you. I want you naked like me!”
Standing over me — with her glorious nakedness accentuated by her high-heeled sandals and beautifully long and shapely legs in silvery stockings –Kate stripped me of my shirt. Kneeling before me, she freed me of my shoes and socks. Then, smiling and looking up at me through her oversized glasses, Kate deftly undid my belt and zipper. I lifted my backside and my trousers joined her skirt on the floor. With my underpants, Kate took her time. Her hands stroked up my thighs venturing closer and closer to the tent in my boxers. And then she slid both hands through the boxer’s leg openings and began a tantalising play with my cock and balls.
After a while, she murmured, “Ben! I think I’m going to love this cock. Will you let me?”
Not waiting for permission, Kate pulled down my boxers. Then she bent over the precum glistening head of my rampant cock, giving it a probing, tasting tongue-flicking kiss.
Getting up from the floor with a big, mischief-filled smile, she stated, “God! Am I ready for bed now!” Looking down at her heeled sandals and stockinged legs she added, “Will it be too slutty, too sexy if I leave them on?”
With a shrug of her shoulders, Kate slid past me onto the bed and stretched out, raising her arms behind her now turned-away head. With her sexy, pointily aroused tits arching to be touched, her legs parting to show her pussy’s luscious lips, Kate was incarnate temptation.
And I succumbed. Kneeling beside Kate, I slowly began to kiss my way up one of her legs, from the straps around Kate’s sexy ankles to the black, lacey tops encircling her thigh. Once there, the shivering of her thigh and Kate’s moaned, “Yes, Ben! God, yes!” told me not to stop. On kissing my way up, my tongue at its first crossing only stroked over the voluptuously swollen lips of her pussy.
But with a shrill cry of “Yes!”, Kate grabbed my head. And on kissing my way back, my mouth was met by her arching-up groin. As her pussy’s lips pressed against mine, they parted and my tongue slipped into the hot-slippery slit.
As I licked and probed, my mouth filled with the tangy taste of her cunt’s juices and my nose drew in the intoxicating smell of Kate’s state of shivering arousal.
Being right on the fringe made Kate pull me up into a wild kiss. Her shameless tongue, twirling in and filling my mouth, repeated the way mine had pleasured her cunt into coming.
Eventually, out of breath, Kate panted against my lips, “God, Ben! Your wicked tongue in my hungry pussy! God, I was getting too close, I had to stop you! But Ben, my pussy wants you, God, I want you to eat-me-out, again and again! But now, fuck me! God, you have to fuck me!”
“Can we wait a bit longer? I have not yet made love to your beautiful tits. Remember, when we looked at each other at Des’s party and your excited tits grew nipples that poked at me through your t-shirt. And suddenly I knew; my stirring cock told me, we were meant for each other”
“With me, it wasn’t just my rebellious nipples! My pussy flushed too. I had to pull up my legs. And when I got home, before and after I mailed you, God, did this nun’s pussy flow. Are you shocked?”
“We fell in lust at first sight!”
While we bantered, I made love to Kate’s sexy little breasts. Beautifully shaped, I found out, they were just more than a mouthful. They came, as I caressed, kissed and sucked them, into their gloriously sexy own. Out of their pink areolas, they sprouted slightly darker, pointy and lasciviously sensitive nipples. With my mouth switching from eagerly pressed forward tit to tit, I slid one hand down over Kate’s tensing belly. Drawing my fingers through her bush, one found unerringly Kate’s clit.
Kate greeted it with a throaty meow and twisted her lower body to press it close to mine. I gently lifted her near leg till its knee almost touched her shoulder. It opened Kate’s crotch and pussy to the wished-for invasion. Moving out of the hips I moved in, left, however, cock and pussy to their search.
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