Unseen and Unexpected {Redman} {MF Rom}
(c) December 2000
Comments welcome at redman@seductive.com.
ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Redman/
Unseen and Unexpected
by Redman
Joan couldn't believe her luck. As she caught her
breath and experienced the warm glow of one of the
best orgasms of her life, she looked over at one of
the best looking she had ever seen. He was young,
at least ten years her junior, with a square jaw and
big, strong hands. He had looked so handsome in his
tight jeans and the blue knit that had clung to
his marvelous physique.
Such a serious man, she thought. It's good to
see him smile. It's good to know she could make such a
gorgeous happy with her body.
In addition to her bountiful luck, Joan couldn't
believe her audacity. She couldn't believe she had
even had the courage to speak with him, much less
encourage him to proposition her. She knew she wasn't
a good-looking woman. She had been told she was plain
all her life. Some comments had not even been that
kind.
But he didn't seem to care about that at all. When his
hands had caressed her thighs, the cellulite that she
had given up fighting didn't seem to bother him. When
he had grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, the
extra inches that had troubled her so much seemed as
nothing to him.
"That was incredible," he said, his face breaking into
a big, incorrigible grin that almost broke her heart.
"You've got to tell me your name! Please!"
He threw his strong arms around her waist and pulled
Joan against his wide chest. His hands roamed over her
back and bottom so familiarly, so possessively, that
at any other time or place she would have been aghast.
But he had such boyish charm, she allowed herself to
feel wonderful for just a moment instead.
"I don't know, Roger," she said while pushing him back
a little. She loved looking into his handsome face.
"I told you I don't do this very often. God, I've never
done this before at all! How did I ever let you talk
me into bed so quickly?"
"I don't know either, but I'm so glad you said yes.
I want you to be glad too. Didn't I satisfy you?"
He really doesn't know, Joan thought, incredulous as
it seemed to her. He really can't tell what he does to
me, can't see the way my body responds to his
slightest touch. Joan buried her face in his chest,
blushing wildly, embarrassed by her own instinctive
reaction to this beautiful boy.
"Oh, you satisfied me, that's for sure," she found
herself admitting to him. Why did she suddenly feel
free to admit anything to him? Would she feel so free
if he knew her name?
"Listen, I don't know whether you're or seeing
someone else and I don't care," he whispered to her
hurriedly. "I won't make demands on you, I swear. Just
promise me that you'll come back. Promise me that
you'll let me hold you and touch you and make love to
you, again."
Joan wanted to promise him that and so much more. She
wanted to tell him how lonely she had been all her
life. She wanted to tell him how his hands on her made
her feel. Most of all, she wanted to tell him how much
it excited her to be lying next to such an incredible
man. But how could she tell him these things and not
sound as desperate for him as she felt?
"Roger, I promise you I'll be back. You make me feel
like I've never felt before. You're an incredible
lover. Any woman would be happy to be with you."
"I don't know about that. I'm not very experienced.
You're only the second woman I've ever been with.
I feel so clumsy. Even now, I don't know whether
I really satisfied you or whether you're just telling
me that in order to make me feel better."
"Roger, how could I not be satisfied with you? You're
an amazing lover. You just need more practice and a
little more confidence."
Joan wondered if she dared hope to be the one to give
him these things.
Reaching out, she took his semi-hard penis in her
hand. It was still a little sticky with her juices.
Just from her touch she felt it get fuller, felt it
start to respond in her hand. Slowly stroking him back
and forth, she was rewarded by that same boyish grin.
"Tell me about yourself, Roger. What do you do? Tell
me about your life, I want to know more."
"Umm, that feels good. Let me see if I can concentrate
enough to make complete sentences," he joked while he
ran his fingers lightly up and down the arm that was
fondling him. Even such simple touches brought
goosebumps to Joan's skin.
"I'm trying to be a writer," he continued haltingly,
"but I don't think I'm very good yet."
"Why not, dear? What do you write?"
"Well, up until now I've tried to write short
and some poetry. I'm thinking I might try something
new now."
"Oh really?" Joan said in a heavy, husky voice.
Roger's penis was now full and turgid in her hand.
It was becoming progressively harder to concentrate on
his words. "What ... uh ... what do you want to write
now?"
"I think I want to write about this beautiful woman
that seduces me and teases me without telling me her
name. I think I want to write about how soft her skin
feels and what my penis feels like when it's inside
her or when she holds it. I think I want to write
about this incredibly sexy, beautiful woman coming to
my house and making love to me every day."
"Roger, you're a dear and I'm glad you find me
sexy at my age, but I'm hardly beautiful."
"You are to me, whatever your name is. You're
beautiful to my hands and my mouth and to my tongue.
Most of all, you're absolutely gorgeous to my penis
right now. If you don't quite squeezing it, I'm going
to explode."
Joan laughed with him at his exuberance, his
enthusiasm. Still, she was reluctant to give herself
completely; reluctant to expose herself to being
again.
Pushing him flat on his back and straddled him with
her wide hips, she spread the swollen lips of her
vagina and sat herself down astride his erect penis.
He moaned as she began to grind into him, swathing his
hard shaft with her wet cunny. God, he was beautiful!
It did her ego so much good to see this handsome,
lovely writhing beneath her, eager for her.
Almost as from a different person, she heard herself
grunting as she rotated her hips on top of him,
concentrating just at the spot where the head of his
penis brushed against her clitoris. If she rubbed just
right...
The sensation became more than she could bear. At the
same moment he was reaching with those strong hands to
lift her up to impale her, she was raising up to
engulf him. Her was so wet and slick that it
only took a nudge until his hardness was sliding into
her, filling her completely.
Oh God, it felt so good to have him inside. It filled
her with such joy and sadness. Joy -- because the
woman inside her couldn't help but respond to this
gorgeous creature between her legs. Sadness -- because
she knew this couldn't last forever. Someday he would
find out how beautiful he was and how ugly she was and
he would leave her. She tried desperately to hold back
her heart, to protect herself from being again.
Joan just didn't know if she could stand another
heartache.
She felt his impending climax, felt the tension fill
his body as he strained to raise her off the bed.
Feeling his warmth as he began spurting into her, she
instinctively pushed herself down on him, grinding her
clitoris against his pubis, unconsciously trying to
get his seed as far into her as possible.
Her body cried for release, but just before her own
climax, she raised up ... denying herself. She lay
trembling as he held her, trying to memorize the feel
and the texture of his penis buried in her vagina.
"Joan," she whispered softly in his ear. "My name is
Joan."
Her emotions overran her and she began to sob softly
on his chest. He held her closely and even though she
knew she must have been heavy on top of him, he
wouldn't let her pull away. Instead, he gently held
her face between his strong hands and kissed her wet
cheeks and her eyes until she slowly stopped crying.
"Tell me what's wrong, Joan," he tried to coax her
gently.
"Oh, Roger! You scare me. We're so different, you and
I. I'm scared of being hurt."
"What do you mean, 'so different,' Joan?"
"We just are. You're and I'm older. Roger,
you're a very handsome and I'm ... I'm ... Well,
let's just say I'm not very attractive, Roger. If you
could only see..."
"But I can't see, Joan. I can't see a thing and none
of that matters to me."
Joan looked down into his unseeing eyes, still not
believing that he couldn't sense how ugly she felt
inside. He began touching her face, tracing his
fingers lightly over her features, caressing her as he
did so.
"See," he said gently as he continued, "my fingers
tell me you're beautiful. Joan, you're the first woman
in a long time to treat me like a decent human being.
Doesn't it bother you that I'm blind?"
"No, Roger, of course not. If anything I'm taking
advantage of you. I never would have approached you if
you weren't blind. If I thought you could see me..."
"You see, Joan? What you worry about doesn't bother me
and what I worry about doesn't bother you. I think
maybe we were made for one another."
As his fingers continued to trace her features, he let
them slide over her ears and throat and then down to
her breasts. His strong sensitive hands began to
excite her again, and what he touched was obviously
exciting him as well. His penis began to swell
underneath her once more. Her body, still filed with
sexual tension, began to rub against him,
uncontrollably.
Joan let him roll her over until he was on top of her,
felt him squeeze her and press against her
with his hips. Reaching down, she felt him guide the
head of his penis into her slickness. She felt him
move in shallow thrust until her body arched to meet
him.
"I'm going to keep you here all day," she heard him
whisper to her, "and I'm going to keep fucking you all
day long until you realize how beautiful you are to
me. Do you hear that, Joan? All day long. If that's
what it takes."
Somewhere, beneath all the hurt, Joan began to allow
herself to hope.
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