She would be his instructor, his mentor, his elder, his goddess, his lover. All he had to do was say yes. Of course he did.
Deep down, doesn’t every woman fantasize about introducing a young man to the pleasures of sex? Taking a virgin and molding him into my own perfect sexual partner had always been my dream, and one night I was lucky enough to have my fantasy come true.
It was Sunday night, and I was having many problems about going back to the office routine after a thoroughly relaxing holiday weekend. So I stopped in my favorite bar for a wind-down drink after working out, intending to grab a hamburger on my way home.
I sat down at one of the small tables and ordered a drink. Sipping it, I looked around. Our pub is a quiet one, given more to soft background music and over-stuffed chairs than to flashing lights and loud rock and roll; the crowd is mostly in their late thirties and older. That’s why I was surprised to see the young man sitting alone at the bar.
I couldn’t help but stare, as he had a tentative glow about him. His face was firm and sensuous, his lips full and inviting, his hair falling softly across his forehead. His body was tight and muscular, and I could see that he had a lovely ass. He sat nursing a drink, his eyes surreptitiously searching the room, and then he finally spotted me.
I could feel my body responding as he gave me the once-over. It was silly, I knew; he had to be at least fifteen years my junior. But I could sense there was a mutual admiration — we connected — and on top of it all, my pussy was beginning to throb helplessly as I returned his stare.
Part of me was screaming, no, control yourself, but another part, where urge of lust and sensuality breed, told me to pursue him. And I did, smiling invitingly.
He got up from his stool and walked over. His voice was low and gentle. He told me his name was Ryan and asked if he could join me.
“You seem a little young to be in a place like this,” I said. “Shouldn’t you be at one of the hot spots?”
“Looks like I am,” he replied, and his smile broadened. I had to have him.
We talked casually and sipped our drinks, but it was apparent from our body language, our eye contact, that the need, the lust for each other, was bigger than both of us.
“So there you are,” I said finally. “Well, now are you ready to go somewhere a little more private?” With this I lightly brushed his hand. He looked up quickly, his eyes wide, and I wondered if I’d been too hasty. “It isn’t a problem, is it?”
“Oh no!” he said, looking down at the table, then back up at me. “I think that would be wonderful.” He seemed a tad awkward, perhaps embarrassed that I had called his bluff.
I couldn’t figure out what was wrong as I watched him fidget with his glass; then it hit me, and the realization made me heady with desire. “Ryan,” I whispered, hoping against hope that it would be true, “have you ever… ever before?”
He looked like a mischievous school-boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar as he mumbled, “No.”
I could barely believe my ears! “A gorgeous guy like you, never made it before?” He shook his head.