Never In A Million Years (Revised) - ALL TRUE - Sex Stories

Never In A Million Years (Revised) - ALL TRUE

... definitely a good bit older than me but very much my type physically speaking with your hair and skin. You're adorable. I love it. :) Very sexy. And seeing your strong hands makes me want you to give me a thigh massage.

"As for me, I am 22. I am writing my undergraduate, senior thesis on The Plague by Albert Camus. I am single. I love languages, especially Latin and Ancient Greek. I spent a month in Italy last summer; I love to travel. I enjoy baking bread. I love the symphony and the opera. And I love to eat. :)

"What do you think of my photo?"

Oh my. What did I think? I was looking at a college girl who was flirting with me! My feelings raced from disbelief to being flattered, excited, enchanted and seriously aroused.

Madison exuded the girl-next-door look with medium brown hair that hung past her shoulders. Even though the photo was not at all revealing, she had beautiful womanly curves. Imagine a classic Rubenesque model minus 20 pounds and you're picturing Madison. Her sparkling eyes and welcoming smile were simply, well, just pretty. Melt-me cute. And pure.

Of course, she was not completely pure. Like me, like everyone who pursues what they need but can't find through normal channels, Madison wasn't totally innocent. Like me, she had started down a shadowy path of her own. Fortunately, somehow we'd met.

My business plans put me in the Southern city near her college in the dead of winter. Our e-mails took on an urgency because the opportunity to meet ...

... was ours to miss. I suggested coffee. Her response revealed a longing. "Of course, I am curious about what it would be like to be with you. I can't say that I wasn't fantasizing a little in my morning class about your hands on my thighs. Honestly, I wish I could go with you to dinner tonight, but I don't have a way to get there. It has been about a year since I have been with a man who knew something about build up and prolonged passion. It is something I love and something that takes me to ecstasy, and something about which many men know practically nothing. I would love a buildup of intensity tonight.

"If I went even to dinner with you, I think that I would want you to make at least a little love to me, but since I won't let that happen since you are attached, it would just be torture for me. I can't stop wishing you were single! But I just can't go against my conscience. I want kisses on my neck and ear. I dislike this inner struggle. :("

Driven by the deepest need to satisfy my heart, I rationalized the situation in a note back to her, "To put things into perspective, you'll likely do worse things in your life than see me. At least if you see me, there's a terrific upside. Some things are worth it. The reality of how I could make you feel: Worth it. The memories of what we've shared. Worth it. The adventure. Worth it."

I did not tell her that for me, the tryst would renew my strength to stay in my outwardly perfect marriage that was otherwise killing me ... slowly ...