Caroline's Own Story - Sex Stories

Caroline's Own Story

When I decided to put my memories of the encounters with Caroline on paper, more than ten years ago, she indicated that she would like to contribute, by writing a story of her own, not about her view on the history of our relation, but about specific events that happened after the trip to Italy. She felt that describing those events from her perspective would benefit from the feminine touch, as she put it. Her story has been sitting in my archive since then. Now is the moment to let her talk. What follows is her text; I didn’t change anything. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I’m Caroline. If and when you are reading this, I presume that you already know me, on the basis of what has been written by my dearest friend and lover René. I am a lawyer and I may add a successful one. I have been and still am a hedonistic creature with a very dirty mind. Furthermore, I am shamelessly addicted to exposing myself. In my early twenties I wasn’t sure yet, but rather soon it became clear that I am bi-sexual. The one who actually does need some more introduction is my lover, because whatever he writes, he will not be very explicit about himself. He is modest and reserved, until you challenge him. Besides, the saying that still waters run deep is applicable. In the darkest corners of his equally dirty mind he has fantasies and dormant desires probably even his wife is still not aware of, at least at ...

... the time of writing this. I do not know how my love will close his description of our delicious and memorable stay in Italy. Should there be an overlap, he will no doubt correct that. We had a late flight back to Amsterdam. Moreover, it departed more than half an hour later than scheduled, as a result of the delay of the incoming aircraft, as it is called in the jargon. The advantage was that dusk set in already as we were flying over northern Italy, and after dinner the cabin lights were dimmed, which was very convenient for our lovemaking. This time we were determined to bring each other to orgasm at thirty-four thousand feet. My lower lip was bleeding after the effort to prevent screaming. Earlier, during dinner, my love had returned to the conversation of a few days ago about the strength of his marriage. In more detail, to his statement that it could even handle loving me. “When I said that, it sort of escaped my mouth,” he said. Then he paused. I was curious as to what was going to follow. “But I did mean it,” he went on. “And, more important, meanwhile I have to acknowledge that I do love you indeed. Not just because of the waves of joy and lust that you can cause to swirl around you, and in doing so also around others, of which I have the privilege to be one. But it’s… your whole personality. You may be a lovely wild tigress at times, but your genes also contain loads of softness, sweetness and warmth.” The sweetheart. I hugged and kissed him, long and passionately. “I ...