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I can hardly believe I’m doing this. After months of talking on Lush, we’ve finally reached the point where we’re actually going out on a date, and even though we’ve never met in person, I feel like I know him pretty well. He’s much older than me, living in a faraway city and working as a boudoir photographer. His stories have captivated my imagination, and I can’t get enough of them.When we first connected, he messaged me in a chat and told me about his desire to explore the depths of our shared passion for erotica. We then proceeded to write an erotic story together, gradually revealing each of our deepest and darkest desires to each other. Our creative collaboration allowed us to freely express all the naughty fantasies that had been bubbling beneath the surface, which led to a greater sense of closeness and intimacy between us.He quickly became the focus of my most intense sexual fantasies, and I masturbated while imagining us doing all the dirty things we had talked about. It got so bad that I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, and I seemed to be constantly aroused and desperate to make our fantasies a reality.For months, I had been stalking his profile, drooling over his athletic body, and enjoying the topless photos he occasionally posted. He had hundreds of pictures of beautiful women on his profile. Some of them even posted explicit pictures of themselves on his wall to get his attention. Compared to those women, I felt insecure and self-conscious, because I was more of a girl-next-door type—curvy and petite, with dark hair and a shy personality. I wasn’t nearly as adventurous or uninhibited with my body as they Anadolu Yakası Escort were.I was overjoyed when he told me he was in town and asked if I wanted to meet up. The fact that such a sophisticated man wanted to spend time with me made me feel special, and I couldn’t wait to see him, especially since I hadn’t had sex in a long time and knew he was a man who could satisfy me.But how much do I know about this man? I don’t even know his real name—just his username—yet he feels like a close friend that I can trust. So far, everything I’ve seen of him has been photographs: shots of him topless or dressed in a chic tailored suit, always with his face hidden behind a camera or obscured by some stunning woman standing in front of him.As I enter the luxurious hotel, my heart begins to race as I prepare to meet him for the first time. Even though neither of us has said it aloud, we both know what my agreeing to meet him in his hotel room, especially on Valentine’s Day, means. The sexual tension between us has been building for months, and I’m sure things will escalate quickly when we finally see each other.When I step into the elevator, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My black off-the-shoulder dress hugs my curves perfectly and shows off my toned legs. My dark hair falls around my shoulders in gentle waves, framing my face and making me feel even more beautiful. The heavy burgundy lipstick and smokey eye makeup I wear make me feel prepared to face anything.As I knock on his door, my hands tremble with anticipation. When he opens the door and our eyes meet, I feel as if my heart Anadolu Yakası Escort Bayan might leap out of my chest. Despite my stiletto heels, he towers over me. His ruggedly handsome features, a testament to his Italian ancestry, sear me with electrifying intensity. I can’t help but notice the few wisps of gray streaking through his dark hair, which make him seem even more attractive. His dark gray button-down shirt clings to his well-toned body, and his black pants hug his hips and thighs, revealing a noticeable bulge in the front.His eyes roam over my face before settling on my lips, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knows what’s coming next, and he’s eager for it. Goosebumps break out on my skin as I breathe in his potent cologne and I feel intoxicated by his masculine scent. My cheeks are flushed with embarrassment—or maybe desire—an open invitation for him to take whatever he wants from me. Nothing stands between us and the yearning to be devoured by each other—only a few millimeters of tantalizing air.He holds the door wide open for me, inviting me in with an expectant gaze that never leaves mine, and my heart races faster as I move closer to him. The dim lighting in the hotel room creates an intimate atmosphere, and there’s an amazing smell coming from the food he ordered. A bottle of sparkling wine sits at the center of the table. Tonight will be special.As we dine, he keeps the conversation light and tells me stories of his travels. The more wine I drink, the more I open up and soon our conversation flows like sparkling wine in our glasses. His smoldering Escort Anadolu Yakası gaze travels up my body like a wave of pure desire and ignites an erotic fire deep within me that I haven’t felt for what feels like an eternity.He moves toward me slowly and deliberately, gazing at me with an intensity that both terrifies and intrigues me. I want to kiss him so badly that it hurts, but I remain motionless, allowing him to take the lead. The anticipation builds, and then, just when I think I can’t take it any longer, he leans in and presses his lips to mine. Our passionate kiss is like a spark, igniting a primal need within me that I had no idea existed.As his hands move down my body, I feel the rush of excitement that comes from surrendering to the moment and giving in to my desire that I feel for him. His lips linger on mine as he slowly pulls away, his breath hot and ragged against my ear.”Why don’t we take this to the bedroom?” he says, his voice is thick with desire and it only makes me more hungry for him.I take his hand, a silent agreement, and he leads me into the bedroom. He takes his camera from the nightstand and sits down on the bed, then looks up at me standing in front of him. The shutter snaps, and I can feel my heart thudding in my chest as he takes picture after picture of me. Feeling uncomfortable, I try to cover my body with my arms. He smiles at me and tells me to relax, making me feel silly for feeling shy in front of him. Slowly, I let my arms fall by my sides.His voice is low and commanding as he says, “Take off your dress.”He is aware of my fantasies of posing for a nude photo shoot, daring to expose myself in all my raw vulnerability, only to then be savagely fucked by the photographer. To experience the feeling of being completely exposed, yet safe in the knowledge that the images would never be seen by anyone but us. Even though I do not want to disappoint him, I am tense at the sight of the camera, and reluctant to undress.
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