Well, in true Lynn fashion, “Tinder 1” quickly turned into #73. Drinks one night, dipping his wick, one official date later. He invited me to dinner at 7:30, I said 5:30. Dinner could come later, I needed to cum now.
I didn’t even care that I didn’t remember what he looked like seeing as our meet and great was in a dark bar and by the time I got into the light those 3 Ketel Ones had hit me and blurred everything except that he was a man. I when I opened the downstairs gate, I was a little surprised. He definitely wasn’t my type, but he had a dick, brought a bottle of wine and I wasn’t wearing panties under my dress. Everything would be fine.
He opened the wine, Malbec. Then he looked at me and the next thing I knew, his tongue was in my mouth and his teeth on my lower lip. I was glad that I had dress appropriately. It was not long until he discovered my easy access snatch and promptly put his hand under my dress. But rather then go in for the kill, he touched everywhere but the hot spot.
Obviously this was going to take some patience on my part. But I went with it. He pushed me into the “couch of a thousand naps” but I knew any wet spots would be a bitch to get off, so I mentioned the bedroom.
I should have known by the kissing that he’d be good, but I was not prepared for what followed. His fingers were in and out of snooch the entire night, beckoning me to cum. We know that looking at me a certain way can get me wet, but when you add digits and tongues, it just ups the ante. And there was a lot of tongue. After all that time of no mouth to puss puss contact, I was eating this up, almost as much as he was.
I needed to get his dick in me to qualify for pancakes. And it’d been so long since any part of a man was between my legs, I was not going to blow this opportunity. His cock was a little nervous but come hell or high water, that dick was going to get hard enough and in my trap before the night was over.
Finally, entry! Not the largest of cocks, but I didn’t care. It was in me, it felt good and I was getting pancakes. After an hour I realized I was fucked out. It’s been a long time and the puss puss was out of shape so I sent him on his way.
Fuckadilio. An over fucked pussy, dry skin on my chin, chapped lips and amazing sex is a great way to reign some action back downtown. I might actually call him again. I mean it was the best sex I’d had in years. Actually it was the only sex I’d had in years.
Moral of the story, a sore pussy is better than a lonely one.