He was a vision of beauty, although, I should have been used to this god-like image by now. He strolled casually towards me, as if what we were about to do was as normal as taking a walk in the park. It had always intrigued me as to how he was so laid-back about our work; as if I didn’t turn him on. If we were in a club and I had seduced him, this would be his ultimate fantasy. My breasts glistening with my own juices, sitting waiting for him to do with me as he wished. I had to admit it, I was jealous. I wanted him to see me and be so irrevocably turned on by me that he would have to have me, right there and then. That was the effect I had on other men. I could walk into a room, pick the man I wanted, smile and he would follow me outside. The fact that he didn’t want me made me want him so much more.

Back at the beginning I was a naive, young 18 year old. A virgin at 18 doesn’t sound like the sort of life a sexual temptress like me once led does it. The truth was, I was terrified of sex. Afraid I would get it wrong; afraid I would look ridiculous, afraid I would still be a virgin at the age of 40!   Yet when   it was just me I was the complete opposite. I would explore my sexuality from every angle. Starting with finding the clitoris and ending with finding multiple orgasms!

Starting slow, I would build up until I reached such a sexual peak that I would explode with moans and howls, hands all over myself, waves of pleasure reaching every part of my body. To me this was heaven. I couldn’t imagine anything better. That was until I met Tom. We locked eyes on one of my rare nights out and I knew that I was going to have him. Even with my naivety and inexperience with sex, I pursued him. I wanted him to be inside me and doing all those things I could do so wonderfully to myself, to me.

  He took me to his flat and I could feel the excitement rising, I was already wet with anticipation; before I’d even walked through the door.

Petrified. We walked up the stairs, his hand on the small of my back. His bed dominated the room, whether it was that big or it was just in my mind I couldn’t tell. He came up behind me and slowly pulled my top over my head. Following suit I took off my skirt as he undressed. And then he kissed me. He took my breath away. We fell noiselessly onto the bed and he kissed me some more. Hard then soft, his lips warm and wet against mine.

Then he pulled away and I reached for more and didn’t find his lips. He smiled a crooked smile and kissed me again, sliding my bra strap down my shoulders as he did so. As I reached for his lips a second time, he pulled me tight to him and unhooked my bra. Thud. It hit the floor and suddenly I was vulnerable again. Sensing my exposure, he moved down to my nipples, fondling, twisting, and circling until they were harder than I’d ever seen them. At my inhalation he put his tongue on my nipple and an unknown tingle went down my whole breast. With his hands free, he slowly moved down my stomach, tracing around the edge of my underwear. Another deep breath and his hands went up the inside of my legs and back down, tracing my labia, brushing against my clit, never touching. His hands passed through the boundaries of my underwear and pushed them to my ankles. Brushing back up my leg his fingers reached my wet slit, and he finally pushed down on my clit.

 Even with all my solitary experience I had never felt anything like it. The rush of the first touch made me moan a long, high moan which he made louder with every push. He started rubbing and circling, fast then slow, hard then soft. I was writhing, screaming with ecstatic yelps of pleasure; and then the biggest sigh of all. My whole essence was tingling with the most fantastic feeling; my breathing heavy, body gleaming with sweat. That crooked smile I saw on Tom’s face earlier arrived on mine.  
"I will do anything you want!"