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With 4 hours until my next class, I’d left campus and gone downtown to window shop. After wandering through a few stores, I wound up sitting outside café having a cup of coffee. Shortly after I’d arrived, the tables began to fill up and before long there wasn’t another available seat to be found. So I wasn’t surprised when a middle aged man in a suit asked if he could sit in the only other chair at my table. I said yes for two reasons. The first was that I was raised to be polite. The second reason was that he was really good looking and I’ve always had a thing for older men. Being raised without a father probably had something to do with that. But the odds of this man liking college aged boys seemed very remote. I imaged him to be happily married man with a few young kids at home.

He smiled graciously and took his seat. The small talk soon began, he seemed to dominate the conversation and followed up one question with another. Each question seemed thought out and required more than a simple yes or no answer. I had the impression he was either a Therapist or was truly interested in me. I really didn’t care, I was thoroughly enjoying the attention. I answered his questions truthfully, there seemed no reason to lie. In less than an hour, he learned about my childhood, my education, my most memorable moments, my friends, my life. This man learned more about me in 60 minutes than some friends I had for years. I don’t know why I was being so open with him. It simply felt natural.

By the time he asked about my relationships, the café was nearly vacant. People passed by on the street, but they were all too involved in their own lives to even notice the two of us sitting there. I leaned closer to him across the table got a whiff of his cologne. He smelled like an educated mature canlı bahis şirketleri man and it made me squirm a little in my chair. I told him that I have had a total of 3 boyfriends in my life.

With a wide smile, he followed up with a few questions about girlfriends. He had a difficult time believing I’d never been with a girl in any way. But after confirming it several times, he finally accepted the fact.

Then he asked “So, with your boyfriends, do you like to pitch, catch or both?”

There wasn’t a single sport that I enjoyed playing or watching. So it took me a few seconds to pick up on what he was asking. I giggled a little when it finally dawned on me. This time I leaned even closer to him and while looking him right in the eye, I whispered, “Catch.”

While still leaning close, our noses inches away from each other, he asked a series of questions about the boys I’d been with. I told him about each one of them. Their names, what they looked like, how I’d met them, what kind of guys they were, and how each relationship came to an end. By the time I finished my boyfriend tale, we were somehow leaning in even closer to each other. The close proximity was driving me crazy, I don’t think I’d ever been so excited in a very public place.

In a very casual way, he asked, “So tell me, what sorts of nasty things these 3 boys did to you?”

Knowing this grown man was now blatantly flirting with me, I blushed a little and playfully asked, “What do you mean by ‘nasty things’?”

He shook his head and laughed a little, then told me that I knew exactly what he was talking about. I told him I enjoyed giving blowjobs and anal penetration. He asked about handjobs. I giggled and nodded, telling him I’d been told I give a pretty good handjob canlı kaçak iddaa too. With an approving smile on his face, he then asked about the sexual things I liked to have done to me.

For whatever reason, this is the point I began to get embarrassed. Telling him about the things others had done to me, was one thing. But going into detail about the sexual things I enjoyed, made me want to avoid the question.

He didn’t push the subject, but somehow got me to open up. I told him some of the boys I’d been with didn’t really touch my penis at all. I explained that I thought they might have been avoiding the fact they were with a boy. I know I began to babble and eventually I stopped talking. He smiled and asked the same question, “What sorts of naughty things do I enjoy being performed for my benefit?”

I dropped my eyes away from his and told him I liked getting touched. He placed his finger under my chin and softly raised my eyes to meet his. “So you like to get rubbed off. What about oral?” I bit my lip, dropped my eyes again and whispered, “I think I would enjoy that.”

Placing his finger under my chin once more, my eyes rising to meet his gaze. He asked, “None of these boyfriends of yours have ever done more than rub you off? That is a crime. A sweetheart like you deserves to be spoiled and treated like a princess.”

I throbbed in my pants when he said that. I wouldn’t doubt it if I moaned a little either.

After letting that final statement stand by itself for a few moments, he asked, “Are you ready for one final question?”

In a timid and somewhat frightened tone, I told him that I was.

With his finger under my chin, ensuring we maintain eye contact, he asked, “If you could be doing anything with anyone, right now, what canlı kaçak bahis would that be?”

I know I blushed deeply, but eventually I told him, “I think you know exactly who I’d like to be with and what I’d like them to be doing right now.”

“No, I don’t. Please enlighten me.”

I went on, no longer embarrassed, having a feeling he was just as turned on as I was. In the softest of whispers to avoid any unwanted attention from passersby, “Right now, I would love to be naked, straddling your lap, kissing you and feeling your cock slide around inside me.”

Just as I finished talking, he leaned the rest of the way between us and our lips met. Right there on the street, this man I’d just met, who was easily old enough to be my father, kissed me passionately. A wet, sloppy, noisy kiss that threatened to make me squirt right then and there. It was a kiss that I will compare all other first kisses to for the rest of my life. It left me tingling all over.

Just as our lips parted, he whispered, “I hope you like big ones.”

I whimpered, “How big is it?”

He told me, “It’s pretty big. Why don’t you come over here and feel for yourself.”

I cautiously rose, adjusting my own modest erection. He smiled when he saw the dainty lump in my pants. I took the two steps to stand beside him and while pretending to look at something on his phone, I dropped my hand to his upper thigh near the crease in his lap. His cock pressed up against my hand and I felt it throb, hard. I moaned softly into his ear, “My gawd! That isn’t just big, it’s huge.”

Is a low voice, he said, “It’s okay sweetheart. We’ll take it slow and easy. I won’t hurt you. But you should know, if we do this, those little-boyfriend-cocks may never be able to please you again.”

I just whimpered as my fingers rhythmically kneaded his cock.

In a matter-of-fact kind of way, he said, “I have an apartment a few blocks from here. Let me call my office to let my secretary know I’ll be out for the rest of the day and we’ll be off.”

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