We talked on the phone. His name is Conner. That is actually his last name but since they call you by your last name in the military it stuck with him and he liked it. He has the deepest voice! Yet he's white! Women melt at the sound of a deep voice like his. We talked about how I got interested in D.P. He said he's done it before. He offered to host and play the role of screener/protecter if I ever wanted to involve other men who I didn't know. That might sound brazen, but it turns out that he was everything he claimed. He was my greatest find. I call him a sex god.
Our plan for D.P. may have been put on hold, but that wasn't going to stop us from screwing. He was going to be in the area so we made plans for him to pick me up and we'd just spend a little time talking in the car, getting to know each other. He couldn't pick me up at my house because I'm married, so I walked down the street to the local Dunkin Donuts. There was a lot of snow on the ground. Instead of walking around the parking lot I cut through a grassy hill. Or in this case a massive mound of snow. The snow came up past the top of my boots and I felt kind of stupid. But he wasn't there yet so he didn't see. I went in and ordered a hot chocolate and then sat and waited for him. It seemed like forever but he finally pulled up in the parking lot. I went out to meet him. We hugged. He was huge! My head came up to the middle of his chest. If that. I got in his car. He drove me to a parking lot that belonged to his Uncle's business. It was night time, the place was surrounded by a fence and deserted so we had plenty of privacy.
We began to talk. I told him about my fetishes. I didn't tell him I was pregnant. He told me about his tour of duty in Africa. He told me about the day his platoon was split up for training. He and one other was chosen for grueling medical training and the rest of them got to practice fun defensive driving skills. LOL. In his training the instructor injured a sheep in various ways and Conner had to provide emergency medical attention that could, one day, save the life of a fellow Marine. The sheep was euthanized in the end. I found his story fascinating and I was becoming quite comfortable with him. He must have perceived that because when I was talking he leaned over and started to kiss me, right in the middle of my sentence! Oh how I wish all men were bold like him! When I have to take charge it frustrates the hell out of me. We kissed passionately and for quite some time. Then he managed to eek out consent from me to go all the way and he reached into the backseat for a condom and unwrapped it on his cock. Then he realized he had a problem. He was too big to crawl over to my side to mount me. I really wanted him to. I figured that if he could lean over to kiss me, how much more difficult would it be to swing your legs over? But he knew it just wasn't going to work, so he opened the car door and with his pants pulled down he came around the car in the freezing cold. It was probably a regular little walk but I was envisioning this hopping charade and a bouncing penis. I was just mortified.
He admired my pussy hair. He had said that he hates it when women shave it. That works out for me because I have it nicely trimmed. He told me that he screwed a blonde whose "curtains matched the drapes." Much later I would start dyeing mine - adding to the insane list of things I do to impress men. After admiring my nether regions he slipped inside. Oh, there is nothing like that. That closeness. That invasion. Being a foot away from a man's eyes - the window to his soul; while a part of him claims you as his own. The fullness in your core from his cock. And then you want more. You want to do it again. So he slides out and slides back in, renewing all of that intensity again. But soon the feeling alone doesn't just cut it. You want it hard. Now harder. Make my whole body move from the slamming of our hips. Let me feel your dick far, far, far up inside me. Can you go a little further? Can you hit my cervix? Can you pound my G-spot, making me quiver in pleasure? The drippings of pleasure turn into a flood. Your pubic hair and balls are covered in sticky wetness. My eyes roll back in my head because I'm done participating. I am now a passenger on an incredible ride. Thank you. And soon enough you thank me. Or at least I think it's a thank you. It's hard to tell because you were writhing.
Since he weighs at least double my weight there was no way he was going to be able to relax after cumming. He had to get back to his own side. So he took off the condom and... threw it outside. I know! Ew! Right? Sometimes I will see a used condom on the ground and I'm just like, "gross! Who would do that?" Well now I'm one of those people! So he gets back in the driver's seat. We both straighten out our clothes as best we can in the cramped compartment. I want to lay on his chest but he says there's no room. Sigh. You know how disappointing that is for me. He drives me back to my street and drops me off a few houses down. He jokes about me being the neighborhood slut or something.
When reflecting on the evening I had a general negative feeling. I was sad that we didn't cuddle and hurt by the slut comment. Nevertheless there was enough of an interest for me to give him another try. We had many more wonderful rondevouz to come. I later learned that he has, you might say, a slut fetish. Or at least you could say that it is a term of endearment for him. That put his comment in a new context so I was able to forgive him for it. And it even helped me grow comfortable with that term. Because that's what I am. A slut. So it's nice to be able to shed some of that shame and embrace it.