Sixty four year old Alan Long decided to click on one last email before giving up. He never thought it would be this hard to find a compatible play partner, but then he realized his desires, or needs, were not your ordinary swinger likes. This one was from a woman who saw his profile on SLS. Her name was Marge and it read: Hello Alan. I just read your profile and I must say it is one of the most direct, honest and filthiest profiles I have ever read. That is why I felt I had to write to you. To be perfectly honest, I am dripping. Let me share a bit about myself. I am 62, widowed and constantly horny. I have been a slut since I was about 45 and my late husband convinced me to shed the inhibitions of a conservative lifestyle and allow myself to find out just how much pleasure it would take to satisfy the lusts I had been denying my entire life. I am still exploring that. We indulged each other in a hedonist lifestyle for the next dozen years. Unfortunately, my husband died in a plane crash traveling on business. For many years I tried to go back to a conservative life believing I would never again find a partner who could accept my filthy desires. I have tried to experience the pleasures vicariously through nasty chats and other forms of porn, but nothing really compares to the real life sharing. Your profile has intrigued me and I would love to meet you.
The way you describe the scenarios that drive your lust to ever higher peaks sounds like the way we used to feel. Could it be possible that we might be sexual soul mates, both searching for that partner to unleash our inner sluts? I am opening myself up to hope. My fingers are busy with my aching clit, drenched in sloppy cunt honey. MMMM they taste so good. I keep rereading your description of the fuck-licking theme party. Oh, my god you filthy fucker. I would worship a man with such a filthy imagination. I would be your wanton whore slut wife, or mistress, which ever you prefer, if only I could share in your lust. I would bring you cunt to share. I would fuck and suck whoever you wanted if I could lick the juices from your shaft as it slides in and out of our shared slut’s cunt. I have enclosed a picture of my dripping shaved hole that is screaming at me to make it squirt. Yes, I am a squirter. Does that turn you on? I would love to feel your lips enclose around my clit as a playmate slips me his cock and makes me squirt right into your filthy mouth. Would you like that Alan? The hope you have given me has unleashed the slut desires in me again. Please, we must meet and find out if we are destined to be together. Chat with me and I will convince you that I am real. I am “badkitty” on SLS. Please give us a chance! Marge
The pre-cum was dripping off the end of his engorged prick when he finished reading it for the 3rd time. He opened the photo Marge sent with her email and felt another stirring in his enflamed balls. It was a close-up photo of a most delicious shaved, wet, cunt with rich swollen outer lips coated with thick oozing juices and a pink beckoning center, below a clit that was erect and at least an inch in length. He logged on to the SLS website to see if there were photos on Marge’s profile. Yes there were and to his delight she had already opened them up to give him access. “Badkitty” was pretty, in a simple way, not screaming gorgeous, and that pleased him tremendously. She displayed a confident smile with full lips, sharp hazel eyes and a cute nose. She was a small framed woman with breasts that were pert and a nice handful but not overly large. He liked that too. She had a bit of a chubby look, with wide hips and shapely legs. One photo showed her lying back spread eagle with one finger nestled up in her open, bald slit and a look on her face that said she was coming. Another was obviously an older photo with her husband and another couple in a foursome. Marge was lying on top of one male with his cock embedded in her while she sucked the other cock and the other woman was sucking her clit. That was his favorite. While all the physical attributes were lovely, the most intriguing thing about her was her openness and her filthy descriptions of her desires. If that proved to be real, it was priceless to him and turned him on beyond belief.
‘My most delicious Marge, what a delightful message you have sent me. I have responded with a photo of my enlarged member, close enough for you to see the dripping precum that has been oozing since reading such a filthy message. I am pleased that you have chosen to respond to my profile. I am in agreement that we should meet. However, I must be certain that you understand my intentions completely. I am not just looking for a playmate. I am seeking a full partner, a salacious slut who loves being submissive to her lover in all ways. She will be a lady in public, and a depraved whore slut for her master in private. Her desire is to surrender completely to her HUSBAND, and belong to him, willing to follow his commands at all times and share his perversions with joy. She knows that her body, soul and filthy imagination are his delight and his constant playground. She also understands Pendik Escort that he is not just seeking his own pleasure, but derives as much pleasure from HER pleasure as his own. He will drive her relentlessly to harder, deeper and more intense orgasms than she has ever known. Are you certain that is what you want? If so, then follow these instructions. There is a small pub in a neighboring city called The Place which you can google for directions. I will be waiting at a secluded table on Friday evening at 6. Ask for me at the bar. You will wear a blouse of your choice, a knee length skirt and sandals only. The ones in the photo on your profile are perfect. Make up is not necessary but is acceptable if you choose. Pubic hair is never allowed. Neither is underwear. You may wish to bring a small bag with you. A successful chat may lead to………… Alan’
Marge’s phone chimed with the receipt of his response. She stared at it for several minutes wondering if the hope that she allowed herself to trust was going to be bashed. Just knowing he had responded aroused her, she was wet with excitement, nervous energy. Calming herself she clicked on the email. Joy, mixed with a deep sense of electricity coursing through her clit overtook her. She spread her legs and searched for the button with her free hand as she reread the commands. She was in a trance-like state, lost in her imagination and in her unending orgasm. Was this really happening? Had she at last found the one to replace her lost master? She began to imagine all the kinky fun they were destined to enjoy. After several more orgasms she tried to focus on her preparations for “the meet”. She googled the location of the pub and found it was closer than she thought, merely five miles away. She would wait to shave tomorrow after lunch so it would be fresh and silky smooth. She shuddered as she imagined his lips and tongue working between her folds and opening up her slit, gorging himself on her honey. As she reread his description of her surrender to him she was overcome by a sense of peace. She couldn’t explain why but she trusted him. She would take a cab so there would be no awkward planning involving vehicles. She made sure her skirt and top were clean. Then she showered and went to bed exhausted from the excitement.
The next day was Thursday and it crawled by so slow she thought she would never get through it, but she did. She debated whether to try to communicate with him again but decided that she would wait. She was too nervous to eat so she went to bed early and tried to get interested in a movie. But all she could think about was this could be the last night she would spend alone for a long time. Then she would warn herself she could be letting her hopes get too high. Many things could go wrong. As she lay motionless and letting her mind calm down she heard her phone chime with the special tone she had assigned to his messages. The jolt in her gut was immediate. Had he changed his mind? Was he upset she hadn’t responded? Was he calling it off? She was terrified to open the message but she had to know. She clicked….
“Good evening Marge. I am imagining you nervously debating whether or not to trust such a stranger as I. My message last nite may have sounded a bit harsh, or disconnected. Let me assure you I intended no such harshness. You may have already decided the conditions set forth are too demanding and too restrictive. I hope that’s not the case. You see, the most important word in your communication to me was your use of the word “worship”. When two souls reach a place of common worship of each other’s desires it is magical. My first wife did not understand that. She always felt that sharing with others somehow signified she wasn’t enough. I am hoping that you can understand that sharing with others signifies that there is never enough pleasure to give to each other. Other’s will be involved but the focus will always be the deep, spiritual, emotional and mental connection between us. You would be worshipped as well, your intelligence, your personality, your imagination, your body, your desires, your inner slut, all of it. It is all about pleasure, deep, sensual, erotic, kinky, lustful and sometimes depraved beyond any boundaries. There is really no place for pain, or humiliation or anything negative at all. Only an open freedom to experience pleasure in ways that cannot be described will take us where we both have expressed a desire to go. I hope this helps to make your decision easier. Have a pleasant night. Alan
When she finished reading Marge realized she was crying. There was absolutely o doubt in her mind. She felt she had to respond to him. She mulled over several different ideas for what seemed like forever. Then her mind seemed to clear and she realized she had only to say what she simply, honestly felt. She typed a short 5 word response and hit send, knowing it would be right.
Alan was surprised by the response so soon. Had she been waiting for another message? When he read it he smiled, feeling both relieved and anxious at the same time. It said, only, “I will Anadolu Yakası Escort follow you anywhere!” This was going to be a special relationship indeed. Oh, the places his mind was already beginning to go.
He agonized all the next day, trying not to think about her but knowing it was impossible. Finally, after finishing only half his salad at lunch, he left work and retreated to his bedroom. His balls ached from his almost constant erection and he needed relief. He opened her messages and stroked his shaft as he reread them over and over. He easily slipped into what he called “slut mode”. His mind raced with fantasies of her, sharing her with others, each reveling in the other’s lust and depravity. Pre-cum leaked from his engorged cock head and he slipped his finger over the tip, collecting as much as he could before rushing it to his lips. Oh, god how he loved the taste of it, the silky texture and the sweetness. He imagined them sharing it together, their tongues lovingly twisting together around the shaft of a hard, wet prick, oozing pre-cum all over them. His own juices lubed his shaft increasing the pleasure even more. He imagined her lips closing around his cock as she slowly engulfed it and he erupted sending jets of cum all over himself. He continued milking until the flow of cream stopped. He hoped a good cum would ease the pressure until tonight but, as usual, it only made him want more. He decided it was time to exert his will over the lust or he would use himself up. The afternoon would be devoted to preparing for her arrival into the den of depravity. He got the sex swing he had constructed out of the attic and secured it to the hooks in the ceiling above the end of the king size bed. Then he tested the batteries in the array of toys he would introduce to her. There was a cock shaped vibrator he loved and a butt plug for her asshole and clamps for the labia. As he assembled the toys he was reminded of the picture of her huge clit and for a moment he thought he was going to lose the battle again but he quickly diverted his mind to his wardrobe. He chose a simple polo shirt with a pocket, always with a pocket for phone and glasses. He debated between a new pair of jeans or slacks and decided to go with the jeans and a more casual look for the first meeting to set her at ease. The next question was underwear or not. That was an easy one. If he didn’t wear underwear he would have a huge wet spot in the front of his jeans.
The next step was his body preparations. He showered and shaved making sure his shaft and balls were completely hairless. He hated pubic hair, unless it was a small patch above a woman’s pussy, but never on her lips. He brushed his teeth and used the extra mint mouthwash so he would be sure to have fresh breath. This also eliminated other odors from concealing the taste and smell of her cunt juice, which he hoped to savor plentifully. He trimmed his mustache and goatee as well, imagining them becoming saturated in her juices. Then he remembered her statement that she was a squirter and his cock lurched again. He looked at the clock and groaned. There was still hours to go. He decided to clean and wash the car to occupy some time.
At four he laid down for a short rest and tried to nap. He hoped for a long evening. He got up at five, got dressed and ran a last minute check in his mind. He remembered that he hadn’t restocked the small fridge in “the den” so he got some soda, beer (non-alcoholic; he despised people who needed alcohol to enjoy sex) and some small wine spritzers and loaded them in the fridge and checked the thermostat. OK, he thought. It’s time to go.
Entering “The Place” he was pleased that there was no one there. The usual crowd would gather later and he hoped to be long gone by the, one of the reasons he chose the location. He went to the bar and asked for a water, explaining to his long time friend (and some times playmate) Greg what his plans involved. Greg smiled and said “Bout time you got back in the swing of things.”. He chose the most secluded table in the place, set far back from the bar but with a view of the entrance through the surrounding lattice. He sat down and opened his phone to a novel and tried to occupy his mind by reading. She arrived at six, exactly. He wondered whether this was a signal of her attention to detail or a coincidence and made a mental note to explore that in conversation. She had decided to forego any make-up and that pleased him as well. She wore a cotton shirt, just tight enough to accent slow shape of her pert breasts, 36A he estimated, and had followed his instructions to the letter with her skirt and sandals. In person her skin was smooth and was slightly flushed which he hoped was an indication of her arousal. Her smile was a slightly nervous one but her eyes sparkled. Her skirt was just tight enough around her hips to accent them, full and inviting. He tried to conceal his excitement but it was next to impossible. She was perfect. As she approached the bar he focused on her ass, a little plump and he imagined the softness of it. Greg directed her to where İstanbul Escort he was and she turned and looked directly into his eyes. What he saw stirred him in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. This was a woman who was not embarrassed to be there or hesitant in any way, but confident. Deliciously confident.
He stood and extended his hand to take hers. “So glad you decided to join me.”
“The pleasure is mine.” Here eyes never left his. Then she added “Sir.” His heart fluttered. She was serious about her submission already.
“Please” he gestured to the chair he held out for her. “Would you care for a glass of wine?”
“Yes, I’d like that.” She replied calmly. Something about her serenity told him he could relax. And he did. He flashed two fingers at Greg in a prearranged signal for two glasses of red muscato wine and returned his eyes to hers. They still sparkled and were focused entirely on his.
“I hope my choices are satisfactory” she intoned with just a hint of a question.
He smiled and whispered “Perfect”, then added “You are beautiful!”
The sparkle in her eyes became moisture. And she smiled back.
Greg brought the wine and gave Alan a thumbs up, indicating his approval of her. Alan chuckled at his friend and nodded.
As Greg retreated to the bar Alan slid over into the chair next to Marge and took her hand in his, their eyes still locked on each other’s. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Then releasing her hand he took her face in his hands and leaned in to her and their lips met in a deep kiss. He felt her shudder and melt into him. Then, before he could release her she took his head in her hands and kissed back even harder and he felt her tongue probing into his mouth, searching for his. That’s when HE melted. Pulling back their eyes met again and they both smiled.
“Bring your wine and let’s go somewhere more private.”
“Yes, master” she whispered, “anywhere you desire.”
“You meant that didn’t you?” he asked her. “Weren’t you just a little apprehensive?”
She looked pensive for a moment, then responded “There was something about your honesty that excited me. I would like to say I was trusting my heart and I know that’s part of it, but you awakened something in me I wasn’t sure was still there, master.” Then she leaned close to whisper to him “I was trusting Clitty” she said.
He looked at her puzzled until she added “Clitty is my inner sub slut’s name. And she is raging at me right now.”
He was mesmerized. “Does Clitty need permission to assert herself?” he asked.
“Clitty would never presume, she is totally submissive.”
He was beside himself, but wanted to take it slow and learn everything he could about Marge and Clitty and whoever else was here with him.
“Let’s continue our conversation in the car, OK?” he said.
“We would like that very much, Sir.”
As they passed the bar he told Greg they would return his glasses later and Greg nodded in understanding. They went to his car.
“Did you drive here?” Alan asked.
“I took a cab. I didn’t think I was going to need a car.” She re[plied.
After gazing at her for a few minutes he asked her “Do you have any idea how incredibly hot you are?”
“I am a sixty year old hopelessly addicted slut, sir. I am physically a plain Jane woman whose body is becoming flabby. My only pleasing attribute is my depraved filthy mind which Clitty controls. She is insatiable and disgusting and craves to be used, shared, sucked, fucked and fed as much cum as possible from her master’s cock and whoever else he chooses to share with her.”
“Stop!” he commanded. She immediately stopped talking and looked at him. “Please don’t do that, put yourself down like that. We need to set some ground rules, here. If you are serious about developing this relationship then we are going to have work together to change your assessment of yourself. Do you accept that premise?”
“What do you mean?”
“Listen to me. Parts of what you said are true, some MAY be true and the rest is an incorrect assessment of the truth. First, you are sixty years old. That true?”
“Sixty-one to be exact. Yes.”
“Okay. Second; If you truly are a hopelessly addicted slut, and I hope you are, we need to assess that. Is that true?”
“Yes. Your profile awakened the slut in me that I used to be proud of when I was young and tight and my breasts were proud and not sagging and my thighs were tight and not flabby and my ass was…”
“Stop” he commanded again. “You need to understand me. I don’t know what your old husband/master was like but for me to call you my depraved slut is a term of endearment, and admiration. I am glad that I have awakened that in you but it should never be something you are ashamed of. Yes, we keep things hidden from society because the main stream would persecute us, but in our own relationship, in our own world and circle of friends, we own who we are, and who our friends are because that is the true honesty we share. That is what enables us to release ourselves from the inhibitions and delve into the depths of pleasure that others will never know.” He waited for her to object but she didn’t. “Our passion for those depths of pleasure is not based on how tight or toned our bodies are. So, thirdly; and this question is for Marge, is Clitty the only slut?”