Casual Encounters Ch. 01

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I should’ve titled this story Bloody Mary, but it started with a perusal of the Casual Encounters area on Craigslist. Oh, the things people post out there! My husband was away for the week fundraising for the university. Since I left academics about ten years ago I’ve been spending my time writing and working with publishers. This particular Saturday afternoon I was feeling unusually horny and decided to reach beyond the norm. At 49, I’ve had affairs, with both men and women, I’ve done a lot, but never a one-nighter with a stranger. I recalled that a graduate student I was quite fond of mentioned during one drunken party about a guy she had met on the Craigslist personals. I had visited the site only once before to find a tenant for the apartment we owned in town.

I found the Personals section, and quickly clicked on Casual Encounters. There was so much to choose from, so many different people in my own city who wanted to fuck in so many different ways it seemed! I was thinking about what kind of guy I’d like to attract; did I need a picture, would he be turned off by my age, all of that. I thought I’d first look at the other ads for women seeking men just to get an idea of the language, the format, the way to do this thing. I clicked on W4M…

“Sexy 22-year old, clean, professional, seeks NSA (no strings attached) for fun and thrills all night. D and D (drug and disease) free…”

“Oh Jesus,” I thought, “I’m not that young, and how boring, besides…”

I continued reading through them, from the BB (big breasted) BD (black divorced), 38, will take you into me completely. Oral a must. You are handsome, drive a Z4, and can come five times in one night. Pictures a must. No disease..

“Yich,” I thought as I tried to imagine what she would look like, legs spread, humping like a whale.

Then, something really caught my eye, “Naughty supple woman wants bloody raunchy fun.” I clicked on the link. It continued, “In town tonight only, 42, full-bodied but not fat, in my mensies, can you handle it? Can I use you as my toilet? Don’t bother contacting me if you’re scared. I’m serious, are you? D and D free, obviously.”

And then I thought, “that’s exactly what I want tonight.” My husband fucks me fine, but it’s gotten to the point that nothing is new anymore. We’ve reached our limit on experimentation. I like it when he fucks my ass, I blow him occasionally, that sort of thing. I am in love with a woman here in town with whom I’ve had an extremely heated affair for the past six months. We get so dizzy with each other after a night together that we have to keep separate for several weeks. I was the first person to anally fist her. I should have called Carla, but she was in Europe this week.

So I started composing my posting: Prude by day, filthy by night. In town only this weekend (I’d take a hotel room for cover), late 40’s, WM (white, married) sexy, professional and society, wants to dirty your mouth and body with my holes. NSA, D&D free, must send picture. You are 30-50, mature, and discreet.

I figured that would get some attention, especially the “society” description. I clicked back to the listing page where I saw the post that inspired me and stared at it a long time thinking, “I’m competing with her for the same type of spunk shooter, it’ll never work… the odds that there are more than one good match available on short notice.. forget it. Then I had a brilliant idea.

I deleted my posting prior to sending it and responded to her notice, “Hi, I’m just the perfect match for you. I’m clean, good-looking, athletic and fit. I’m established, I’m 49, well-endowed, long-lasting, and I’m ready to drink your blood and thick offerings. And I’m discreet, NSA. Contact me by email.” I hit ‘respond.’

I was playing the man to her request. On the faceless Internet, everyone can pose, so why can’t I? If she responded and we liked each other, I’d set up a meeting and see what would happen next. What the hell, I had nothing better to do? At best she could be bi, at worst I’d leave her hanging and never introduce myself.

An hour later she responded. “I don’t want your name or your picture. If you are all you describe, we can probably have fun. If you are lying, I’ll look at you and politely excuse myself. I’m staying at the St. Belize. I’ll be at the bar at 8 p.m. sitting alone, reading a book, hopefully with a drink. When you find me, I’ll ask you ‘have we met?’ and you are to answer, ‘I have always hoped to.’ That’s our signal, remember. Ciao filth-hound.”

I couldn’t believe it. No request for continued dialogue to raise suspicions, nothing. And I loved her salutation. I booked a room at the St. Belize, a rather fancy place, she must be doing well, I thought.

I checked in and had a beautiful dinner alone in the bistro. A little before 8 I looked into the bar. A very attractive blond woman with ample figure and full breasts was sitting at the bar reading a book. There were several vacant stools alongside. Carrying a few books and a notepad, Göztepe Escort I took a seat to her right, leaving one vacant stool between us, it seemed natural to do so. She was nursing a white wine. I ordered a scotch and opened my books and notepads and began feigning editorial work, concentrating intently, seemingly oblivious to my surroundings.

At ten past, she lit a cigarette and checked her watch. She was wearing a thinly strapped black top that outlined some gorgeous tits, the nipples sticking out enough to give me a shock. She looked well put-together, not slutty. She was wearing black jeans. She wore very tasteful jewelry. She ordered another wine. I was waiting to make my move, not wanting to lose her.

At a quarter past, I put down my work, finished my drink and turned to her.

“Excuse me, do you have another cigarette?”

“Hmmm, I’m sorry, oh… sure, here,” she responded with a warm smile, and passed one to me. I put it in my mouth and she instinctively lit it for me.

“Thanks so much, I actually don’t smoke much anymore, but it looked so good when you inhaled, I had to ask. I’m very grateful, what are you drinking?”

“White wine.”

I ordered another round, “Waiter, two scotches.” I turned to her, “It goes well after wine as a chaser.” And I turned away, back to my work.

She returned to her book, I could tell she wasn’t in the least bit concentrating on reading, saw her glance at her watch. Just then, a sloppy man approached the empty stool between us. Balding, collar unbuttoned, had a cell phone and another device clipped to his belt, you know the look, a sales guy or something. He had come from a rather loud table of blathering men at the back, clearly a bet he was put up to. He sat down and faced her.

“Excuse me, miss, is this seat taken?”

She looked up, assuming he was the one who responded to the ad. I turned my head to the activity right next to me. Her eyes caught mine and I could tell she was disappointed with this poor guy by her look.

“Have we met?” I overheard her.

“No, I don’t think so. But I was wondering, you know, if you’d let me buy you a drink or something.”

And he smiled a hopeful grin that displayed how awkward his mustache looked and how out of place he was. I heard his buddies whoop and yell at him.

She now was pissed off at him for his buddies having putting him up to this. She glanced at my direction and said to him, “Listen friend, my girlfriend and I are having a little argument right now, so thank you, and kiss off.” He got up embarrassed and returned to his table. She moved over beside me, bring her book and drink with her.

“Girlfriend?,” I asked.

“I wanted him to leave. Thanks for allowing me to exploit your kindness. I’m Kate.”

“I’m Diane. Let me guess… you were waiting for someone to show up, this guy came by, but he’s not the one you were expecting. What argument are we in, by the way?”

“Sorry, that was for cover. Your right, he didn’t show. I just felt like some fun, now I feel embarrassed. Sorry for unloading. I gotta get out of here.”

And she started to get up to leave.

“Stay for a bit, you haven’t even finished your drink,” I begged her.

Her eyes were very beautiful, her face kind and determined. I continued, “Are you from around here?”

“Seattle area. I’m here on business, I had an unexpected extra meeting today and will return tomorrow. I thought I’d try something crazy and it didn’t work out. Maybe I’ll just drink it off.”

“What’s ‘something crazy?’ I asked, intrigued.

“Oh nothing. Diane, what are you doing here with all that work. This is a bar, you know, alcohol, creepy guys, television sports, noise. Why are you working here on a Saturday night?”

“I know it might seem strange… I live here in town, actually a little bit out of town, but my editor lives here and we were meeting til late this afternoon. He knows I work best out of the house, so he suggested I come here for the night. You know, nice hotel, dinner taken care of, sheets pulled down, I can concentrate solely on my work. Only for a few days. My husband’s away for the week so I’m not really accountable, you know. Were you going to set up an affair, a fling with a stranger? Is that the crazy thing? Excuse me for prying, but you did refer to me as your girlfriend, so at least allow me that question.” I felt emboldened.

Her glass was empty, but she was definitely loosened a bit. I threw the rest of mine back and ordered another round. She looked at me gratefully and we toasted.

“Well, I don’t know you, and I probably won’t ever see you again, so I’ll tell you,” and she laughed. Great white perfect teeth smiled. She really was sexy. Robust, voluptuous. I wanted her then. I needed to drink her cunt and I knew it then.

She was getting tipsy, but not sloppy by any means. “I’ll tell you, just promise you won’t judge me, ok?”

“I promise,” I returned.

“So I had this extra day and İstanbul Escort thought I’d treat myself to a little fun,” she began. She told me the story of the casual encounters section and that she had wanted some ‘no strings attached’ nasty fun.

“What do you mean nasty?” I asked.

“I’ve been living with my boyfriend for over 6 years. We have a pretty good sex life but it’s gotten kind of mundane, if you know what I mean, I mean, he’s tired, it’s the same thing most of the time…”

“Like what?” I asked.

“You know, touching, kissing, he likes me to go down on him,” and she caught herself, embarrassed a little at the intimacy of the comment, “uh oh, TMI… too much information. I’m sorry.”

Our drinks arrived and she took a generous swig.

“Don’t be sorry sister,” I said, “tell me your secrets, I’ll tell you mine, we’ll drink, then we’ll leave and never see each other again, bars are just an excuse to release. What do you mean nasty?”

“Well,” she started, “before Michael, my boyfriend, I was with Chloe for four years and..”

“You’re bi? You were with a woman?” I interrupted?

“Yeah, the cunt. I loved her but she broke my heart, left me for a fucking motorcycle twat dike with a buzz cut. Bitch! But I love Michael and we’re happy, so fucking good riddance. She was such a dependent thing.”

“But the nasty, what do you mean? I insisted.

“You seem so intuitive, try to guess”

“Come on, don’t avoid the question, I’ve been around the block.”

“Well… Chloe and I used to love bloody sex, during our periods. We drank each other’s goop. I had this forbidden thought that in a foreign city I would hook up with a decent and good-looking guy who would enjoy my blood, since I’m in the middle of my period right now. I wanted a hundred orgasms of the kind I don’t normally get, no questions asked, never see the guy again.”

“So what did you do?”

And she told me about placing the notice online.

“Can I use you as my toilet?” I repeated back to her, “you wrote that? What did you mean?”

“I want to pee into a guy’s mouth, maybe more, I want to make him submissive, I want to feel the power.” She took a long swallow of her scotch. “Diane, what are your secrets, I just got a very vulnerable feeling.”

“Honey,” I replied, “I’ve done the nasty you’re talking about, you won’t believe it. I have a lover in town, a woman I’m crazy about. You just told me something very personal, so I’ll share. I can’t see her a lot for various reasons, but when we get together, we go crazy. Things that haven’t been done before, I’m sure. I know nasty, Kate.”

“Diane,” she looked in my eyes, holding her drink, “I have to go piss like a hydrant, I’m about to wet my pants. Will you be here when I come back?”

“I hope so,” I replied, “Are you coming back?” And she left, carrying her glass with her. The men at the loud table were hooting and throwing some rude comments toward our direction, but I ignored them. I focused on my papers, all tangled together. It seemed like hours were passing. My thighs began burning and my pussy started tingling at the thought of licking her skin. I finished my drink. How many had I put away?

She finally returned, it was really only about five minutes.

“You know nasty?” She commented with a devious expression, “here.” And she put her glass down in front of me. “Yours is empty.”

The highball was half full of a deep golden liquid, darker than scotch, the ice melted in it. One side of the rim was gooped with red paste, like lipstick.

“It’s mine. It’s from me. Are you truly nasty? she whispered into my face.

I put it to my lips, not believing this turn of events. I sipped. Her urine was still warm. Strong and salty, no doubt, her piss. I turned the glass so the red smear met my tongue. It was her bloody pussy muck. Her period. I stared at her and our eyes met as I tasted and ingested her menstrual blood from the glass. It was metallic on my lips, a little bitter, thick jelly. I then swallowed the entire glass and sent her an exaggerated air kiss. It was very salty, still warm from her body.

I leaned over to her ear and whispered, “I want to taste you everywhere. I’m hungry.”

“For what?” she asked, holding my stare.

“Oh, you know, a late night snack, desert… truffles, strawberries, chocolate kisses.”

She gulped with surprise, “Where can we find those treats?”

I asked for the bill and paid. I pulled out a room card key and put it on the bar. “I’m in 1210. I’m going to the hotel gift store for a bottle of scotch. I’ll be up there in 10 minutes. If you’re not coming, please get rid of the card. Thanks for the drink.” And I got up.

I had just put my coat down and the bottle on the table when I heard the knock. I let her in and she looked around my room.

“Bigger than mine, nice view.”

She went over to the couch and sat down, I joined her. I picked the bottle up off the table and opened it, poured two highballs Anadolu Yakası Escort and handed her one. We clinked glasses and each drank a generous gulp. She leaned over me to place her glass on the table behind me. She then pushed me down and lay her full lips on mine. Her taste was sensational, all womanly and noxious. I drank her in with my lips and tongue. We snaked our wriggling tongues in and around each others’ mouths for a long time, familiarizing with new territory. I broke our clench and took another drink. She clamped her lips back to mine and I spat the scotch into her, which she drank down.

Now I was on my back mostly, she sitting on my waist, and she quickly unbuttoned her shirt and released her bra, exposing firm, full breasts with very hard, pointy nipples. I took one in my mouth and caressed it gently at first, then began biting it. I played with her tits, fondling them, sucking them until her nips became red and swollen. Her moaning began at this point and she reached for mine.

“No, love.” This is a pleasure experience for you, I’ll get mine from giving my all to you, and I pushed her hand away.

“I want your tits, let me at them, please,” she murmured.

I responded by moving my hand down between her legs, skirt coming up to expose her wet panties. There was no resistance and she started writhing her legs into my hand, trying to grasp it. She deftly removed her skirt, then her panties were around her ankles, then off.

“I’m yours,” she whispered as her lips found mine again.

My fingers didn’t hesitate as they entered her pussy, slowly at first, but she humped them in deep almost immediately with a gasp. She shuddered and rhythmically started to grind my hand into her. I returned my mouth to her gorgeous tits and bit her playfully. I got a second finger in her twat and then met a string.

“Oh, I found something,” I said.

Without a word, I moved her off and pushed her on her back, legs open to me. I kissed her twat lips and sucked them. They were long and fleshy, warm and fish scented. I sucked the flavor out of them as she writhed and moaned. Her cunt lips were really long and fleshy, I sucked them into me and twisted them. My tongue went in circles, then entered. I found the string and bit it, pulling it out slowly.

“Yeah, ohhhh, you’ve got it, go,” she wailed as I pulled out her puffy tampon.

It was reddened by her blood, her uteral excess and I took it into my mouth. I sucked the cotton and took in each flavor, the metal, the bitter, the depth, the salt. Clumps of wet stringy blood and guck came onto my taste buds. I chewed that cotton, seeking her pussy snot.

“Kate, you’re wet and bloody, you nasty bitch, what were you thinking,” I laughed as I coughed on her muck.

“I told you I wanted someone who wasn’t afraid of blood, I’m so horny during my period.”

She then pulled my head deeper into her cunt and lifted her legs as high as they could go. The tampon, like a cork unleashed, released a backup of menstrual muck, thick and lumpy that rushed out into my waiting mouth. This was followed by hot fresh liquid runny blood and pussy fluids which drenched my face.

“Diane, you have to let me taste you, you must, this isn’t fair.”

Her ooze was thick and syrupy now, strands webbing my chin to her hole.

“Kate, Love, please turn around, sit on me,” I asked as I repositioned myself on my back. I took off my blouse, then my bra, exposing two pink hard nipples. I didn’t want her blood to stain my clothes.

She complied and pressed her weight on my nose and mouth, now facing my feet. Her panties, hanging onto her ankles, fell off near my head. I leaned into them, they were totally brown and stained, smelling of a day’s worth of stink.

“You wanted nasty, didn’t you?” she asked me.

“What do you mean?” I responded.


And my mouth tasted a hot salty trickle from her cunt, a flow of yellow that grew thicker. It was thick now and really strong. I drank and swallowed as it filled my mouth. More cunt ketchup sealed her piss into me as my lips parted.

“My scotch for you, Diane, she joked,” and clenching her pelvis muscles, squirting a final stream onto my face.

My mouth full, I pushed her off and kissed her, spitting a mouthful of pee back at her. This was the ultimate delicious skanky scent of a fertile woman showering me with her uteral essence.

I returned to tonguing her gash and focused on getting her to come. Her heaving was increasing, I knew I found the spot. I dug in and thrashed her inner folds, nuzzling her clit. She brought around her hand and began rubbing the top of her crack while I churned away. Her breathing came faster and she started moaning loudly.

“Oh, Diane, oh, oh, yeahh, ummmm,” and she threw her lower body on my head without restraint as she came. Her pussy opened up wide and shot out a ball of red slime with a spurt of pee. Wetness enveloped my lips and nose and her pelvis quivered for a time.

As soon as she caught her breath, she began feverishly removing my pants. I let her go. My buttons undone, skirt open, then off, then my panties, I think I heard them rip. Her mouth dug into my wettened pussy and opened it wide. I wasn’t done with her yet.

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