I could tell it was new for him. I've found this in very short life: All men want this. Some are simply too afraid to ask for it. Ernest paused for a second and I stared back with longing in my eyes. I inhaled sharply as he grabbed my wrists and threw them above my head and slammed into me with his throbbing cock. It was sublime. He kept one hand grasping my wrists above my head and put his other hand around my throat. I yelled 'harder, harder!' until he was throwing me around the bed like a rag doll. Still though, I wanted more and I didn't know how to get it. Finally, Ernest exploded on my breasts, my hair, my cheeks and I lay on his bed spread eagle eyes looking up at the ceiling.
I said nothing. Ernest asked if he could take a picture of me and I said sure. I could get off on him getting off on a picture of me later. Afterwards, Ernest seemed shy but thrilled. He stood across the room simply staring at me, as if waiting for me to say something, trying to hide his joy of looking at my sweetness.
I got dressed and he drove me home, trying to hold my hand. I went back to my apartment and stood outside on the balcony, looking out at the city. I had had my first encounter with an older man, one like I always fantasized about, and I felt deeply unsatisfied. I'm not sure what I wanted from this encounter that I didn't receive but I felt empty and wanting more. I knew I would need my next encounter to enlighten me further.
I was on the look out for my next man…