Meeting Vicky might not have been a good idea.
ALL THE STORIES HERE ARE FICTION, THIS SITE DOES NOT CONDONE UNDER AGE SEX OR CRIMINAL ACTS IN REAL LIFE. This is a work of fiction. You must be 18 or over to read this story. This story is provided for entertainment purposes only. The author does not condone any sexual activity with persons under 18 in real life.
Vicky (not his real name, he had not told me that) considered me a true friend: but true friends are rare in online sex forums, so he was definitely naive to think me one. Not that I am not, but not certain that I am either: all I had done was to defend him online against the mockery and bullying that was typical of that particular forum, and then to be nice to him - flimsy grounds for true friendship.
Sad that just being nice would lead to one being considered a true friend, online: but that forum was not a nice place, and I am glad I left it. I didn't leave Vicky though, because we stayed in touch via email.
Vicky was being bullied because he is funny. Funny to me because he made me laugh: but funny to the trolls because he was ... well, odd.. I like him. He sort of burbles, online: spews random thoughts all mixed up together, asks for advice, thinks better of it, apologizes, asks again, forgets what he was asking and goes off on a tangent. He asks my advice all the time: then when I don't reply straight away he fears he has offended me and retracts the question, begs forgiveness, says sorry. It could be irritating: and sometimes it is, so that I just tell him to stop and then he goes on even more with the apoogies and anxieties.
Vicky is very mixed up, I think. Much less than half my age - but I hope at least more than one third - I think he is a virgin, or if not then at least very inexperienced. So sex is on his mind all the time - certainly when he was on the forum, and most often when he emails me. He is very confused about sex: comes from a country - and a culture - where sex before marriage is a disgrace, masturbation a sin. He obviously talks to his friends about sex too but they seem as clueless as he is. They advised him that abstinence - from masturbation, let alone actual sex - builds character, gives him inner strength, firmer resolve, more energy, less distraction. It is probably why he is so obssessed with sex, and why he is so all over the place about it: all that sexual need, so much sperm, buit up inside him.
I empathise with him over that, really: when I was young I masturbated, and thought it a sin, something to be resisted - but I am not very good at resisting sexual urges, and at age 13 I found a book that talked about teenage attitudes to and problems witth sex and the book said masturbation was fine, healthy, perfectly normal: so being me I took that advice to heart and masturbated like crazy until actual sex eclipsed that need - and now do so again freely when I am alone and sexually needy. I empathise too with Vicky's confusion and babbling: I think he finds social situations awkward, hard to read, and so did I when I was young - and still do. But I reacted, in a way that was and is natural to me but odd to others, with quiet focus, concentration, stillness, thinking - processing the situation, consciously comparing against similar though not identical situations in the past, then following decisively what seemed to me the appropriate response. But Vicky, I think, spins: he can't focus, doesn't decide, won't single mindedly pursue the chosen course. So unlike me, who makes social mistakes but doesn't feel crippling embarrassment over them, Vicky is I think terrified, chaotic, veering all over the place to avoid embarrassing himself - with the obvious consequence of making himself an embarrassment all the time.
But enough pop psychology. I want to fuck Vicky. I dont know why quite but I do - I have done since soon after we first met on line. There is something innocent and sweet about a young man who wants sex so much that he denies himself even masturbation or thinking about it. Not that I am a cougar or milf but I just find it nice - sexy - for once to be the cool calm collected one in a relationship. I was going to write sexual relationship but Vicky and I have actually hardly ever got round to really discussing sex at all, because he evades the topic - having been the one to bring it up he then spins off on something else. I have said I want to fuck him: and that sent him off into a storm of denial - no, I couldn't possibly, I was just being kind, he couldn't, no, so sorry, please forgive him - on and on burbling. When I asked him, directly, if he wanted to fuck me he was even worse - a whirlwind of obfuscation and chaotic confusion - but I think he does.
So meeting Vicky might have been a mistake. Because having met him I do want to fuck him - very definitely. His slim fit athletic body, youthful looks: his naive innocent babbling failing utterly to conceal how much he wants to fuck me, too. It is why I agred to meet him, really: I had no desire at all for coffee: still less (without being rudely dismissive..) for what passes as conversation in Vicky's permanently sex-crazed abstinent state.
I'm going to have to do it myself, which is very much contrary to my natural way with extramarital sex: although opportunities are few because I am not exactly a sex magnet, those opportunities that have arisen have been such as to allow me the luxury of acquiescing rather than being forward. But I have the advantage of experience: I have been married 37 years; allowing for days apart, illness, arguments, tiredness, I have probably been fucked at least three times a week on average - most likely more. Vicky is good at arithmetic - he could do the calculation quickly - and so could readily estimate that I have been fucked probably five or six thousand times: whereas he has been fucked probably none. It is a long time since I was fucked by a virgin.
His shirt undoes easily: his chest is smooth and warm to my fingers. His face flames but he does not resist. The shirt slips softly down from his shoulders, tangling at his wrists - and I let it, because I do not want him interfering as I undo his pants. Physically at least he very definitely does want to fuck me - it is massively erect, flaming hot and hard to my fingers, throbbing with need. It is like undressing a child - he does not resist but he hardly helps either. I ignore his aopologizing: he is so sorry for being erect, so sorry for being so clumsy, so sorry for ... I just shut it out, ignore it, let it become a gentle burble like a stream over pebbles. I am very ordinary - plain, even - but his eyes almost literally pop out at the sight of my small but still pert breasts: and it is comical to see him try - but fail - to avoid staring at my soft dark curly cunt hairs.
His body is so firm and smooth under me: between my splayed thighs as I straddle him. I don't need to say anything - he says more than enough for both of uf. My finger to his lips shushes him for a moment: time enough just to guide his fat thick raging erection to me. It isn't going to take long but that doesn%u2019t matter: I only need to fuck him, not to make an endurance contest out of it: and anyway, I am not going to take long myself once this starts. And start it does. So big as it slides in: so thick, so hard as it fills me. He is readying himself to apologize again: this time for when he cums, quicky, inside me: but I don't let him just yet, I hold him in me, let him calm down a little before taking him fully in. We are both ready to cum now: neither of us needs to hold on, or can either of us do so. In it goes: all the way, all of it, right in, filling me so full of cock, throbbing.
Yes.
Oh yessss.
And I RIDE him - fast and hard, taking him deep, riding him through the spurting flooding pent-up cum fountaining up into me, orgasming on him as he pumps it into me, my cunt milking it, sucking it out of him. So nice. So hot. Plenty of time to take it slow next time.
I lean down, lying flat on him, my lips finding his in a kiss that is deep and passionate: then I raise my head so my eyes are inches from his: "Nice to meet you, Vicky.."