Unseen and Unexpected {Redman} {MF Rom}
(c) December 2000
Comments welcome at redman@seductive.com.
ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Redman/


Unseen and Unexpected
by Redman


Joan couldn't believe her luck. As she caught her 
breath and experienced the warm glow of one of the 
best orgasms of her life, she looked over at one of 
the best looking men she had ever seen. He was young, 
at least ten years her junior, with a square jaw and 
big, strong hands. He had looked so handsome in his 
tight jeans and the blue knit shirt that had clung to 
his marvelous physique.

Such a serious young man, she thought. It's good to 
see him smile. It's good to know she could make such a 
gorgeous young man happy with her body.

In addition to her bountiful luck, Joan couldn't 
believe her audacity. She couldn't believe she had 
even had the courage to speak with him, much less 
encourage him to proposition her. She knew she wasn't 
a good-looking woman. She had been told she was plain 
all her life. Some comments had not even been that 
kind. 

But he didn't seem to care about that at all. When his 
hands had caressed her thighs, the cellulite that she 
had given up fighting didn't seem to bother him. When 
he had grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, the 
extra inches that had troubled her so much seemed as 
nothing to him.

"That was incredible," he said, his face breaking into 
a big, incorrigible grin that almost broke her heart. 
"You've got to tell me your name! Please!" 

He threw his strong arms around her waist and pulled 
Joan against his wide chest. His hands roamed over her 
back and bottom so familiarly, so possessively, that 
at any other time or place she would have been aghast. 
But he had such boyish charm, she allowed herself to 
feel wonderful for just a moment instead.

"I don't know, Roger," she said while pushing him back 
a little. She loved looking into his handsome face. 
"I told you I don't do this very often. God, I've never 
done this before at all! How did I ever let you talk 
me into bed so quickly?"

"I don't know either, but I'm so glad you said yes. 
I want you to be glad too. Didn't I satisfy you?"

He really doesn't know, Joan thought, incredulous as 
it seemed to her. He really can't tell what he does to 
me, can't see the way my body responds to his 
slightest touch. Joan buried her face in his chest, 
blushing wildly, embarrassed by her own instinctive 
reaction to this beautiful boy.

"Oh, you satisfied me, that's for sure," she found 
herself admitting to him. Why did she suddenly feel 
free to admit anything to him? Would she feel so free 
if he knew her name?

"Listen, I don't know whether you're married or seeing 
someone else and I don't care," he whispered to her 
hurriedly. "I won't make demands on you, I swear. Just 
promise me that you'll come back. Promise me that 
you'll let me hold you and touch you and make love to 
you, again."

Joan wanted to promise him that and so much more. She 
wanted to tell him how lonely she had been all her 
life. She wanted to tell him how his hands on her made 
her feel. Most of all, she wanted to tell him how much 
it excited her to be lying next to such an incredible 
man. But how could she tell him these things and not 
sound as desperate for him as she felt?

"Roger, I promise you I'll be back. You make me feel 
like I've never felt before. You're an incredible 
lover. Any woman would be happy to be with you."

"I don't know about that. I'm not very experienced. 
You're only the second woman I've ever been with. 
I feel so clumsy. Even now, I don't know whether 
I really satisfied you or whether you're just telling 
me that in order to make me feel better."

"Roger, how could I not be satisfied with you? You're 
an amazing lover. You just need more practice and a 
little more confidence." 

Joan wondered if she dared hope to be the one to give 
him these things.

Reaching out, she took his semi-hard penis in her 
hand. It was still a little sticky with her juices. 
Just from her touch she felt it get fuller, felt it 
start to respond in her hand. Slowly stroking him back 
and forth, she was rewarded by that same boyish grin.

"Tell me about yourself, Roger. What do you do? Tell 
me about your life, I want to know more."

"Umm, that feels good. Let me see if I can concentrate 
enough to make complete sentences," he joked while he 
ran his fingers lightly up and down the arm that was 
fondling him. Even such simple touches brought 
goosebumps to Joan's skin.

"I'm trying to be a writer," he continued haltingly, 
"but I don't think I'm very good yet."

"Why not, dear? What do you write?"

"Well, up until now I've tried to write short stories 
and some poetry. I'm thinking I might try something 
new now."

"Oh really?" Joan said in a heavy, husky voice. 
Roger's penis was now full and turgid in her hand. 
It was becoming progressively harder to concentrate on 
his words. "What ... uh ... what do you want to write 
now?"

"I think I want to write about this beautiful woman 
that seduces me and teases me without telling me her 
name. I think I want to write about how soft her skin 
feels and what my penis feels like when it's inside 
her or when she holds it. I think I want to write 
about this incredibly sexy, beautiful woman coming to 
my house and making love to me every day."

"Roger, you're a dear boy and I'm glad you find me 
sexy at my age, but I'm hardly beautiful."

"You are to me, whatever your name is. You're 
beautiful to my hands and my mouth and to my tongue. 
Most of all, you're absolutely gorgeous to my penis 
right now. If you don't quite squeezing it, I'm going 
to explode."

Joan laughed with him at his exuberance, his 
enthusiasm. Still, she was reluctant to give herself 
completely; reluctant to expose herself to being hurt 
again.

Pushing him flat on his back and straddled him with 
her wide hips, she spread the swollen lips of her 
vagina and sat herself down astride his erect penis. 
He moaned as she began to grind into him, swathing his 
hard shaft with her wet cunny. God, he was beautiful! 
It did her ego so much good to see this handsome, 
lovely young man writhing beneath her, eager for her.

Almost as from a different person, she heard herself 
grunting as she rotated her hips on top of him, 
concentrating just at the spot where the head of his 
penis brushed against her clitoris. If she rubbed just 
right...

The sensation became more than she could bear. At the 
same moment he was reaching with those strong hands to 
lift her up to impale her, she was raising up to 
engulf him. Her vagina was so wet and slick that it 
only took a nudge until his hardness was sliding into 
her, filling her completely.

Oh God, it felt so good to have him inside. It filled 
her with such joy and sadness. Joy -- because the 
woman inside her couldn't help but respond to this 
gorgeous creature between her legs. Sadness -- because 
she knew this couldn't last forever. Someday he would 
find out how beautiful he was and how ugly she was and 
he would leave her. She tried desperately to hold back 
her heart, to protect herself from being hurt again. 
Joan just didn't know if she could stand another 
heartache.

She felt his impending climax, felt the tension fill 
his body as he strained to raise her off the bed. 
Feeling his warmth as he began spurting into her, she 
instinctively pushed herself down on him, grinding her 
clitoris against his pubis, unconsciously trying to 
get his seed as far into her as possible. 

Her body cried for release, but just before her own 
climax, she raised up ... denying herself. She lay 
trembling as he held her, trying to memorize the feel 
and the texture of his penis buried in her vagina.

"Joan," she whispered softly in his ear. "My name is 
Joan."

Her emotions overran her and she began to sob softly 
on his chest. He held her closely and even though she 
knew she must have been heavy on top of him, he 
wouldn't let her pull away. Instead, he gently held 
her face between his strong hands and kissed her wet 
cheeks and her eyes until she slowly stopped crying.

"Tell me what's wrong, Joan," he tried to coax her 
gently.

"Oh, Roger! You scare me. We're so different, you and 
I. I'm scared of being hurt."

"What do you mean, 'so different,' Joan?"

"We just are. You're young and I'm older. Roger, 
you're a very handsome man and I'm ... I'm ... Well, 
let's just say I'm not very attractive, Roger. If you 
could only see..."

"But I can't see, Joan. I can't see a thing and none 
of that matters to me."

Joan looked down into his unseeing eyes, still not 
believing that he couldn't sense how ugly she felt 
inside. He began touching her face, tracing his 
fingers lightly over her features, caressing her as he 
did so. 

"See," he said gently as he continued, "my fingers 
tell me you're beautiful. Joan, you're the first woman 
in a long time to treat me like a decent human being. 
Doesn't it bother you that I'm blind?"

"No, Roger, of course not. If anything I'm taking 
advantage of you. I never would have approached you if 
you weren't blind. If I thought you could see me..."

"You see, Joan? What you worry about doesn't bother me 
and what I worry about doesn't bother you. I think 
maybe we were made for one another."

As his fingers continued to trace her features, he let 
them slide over her ears and throat and then down to 
her breasts. His strong sensitive hands began to 
excite her again, and what he touched was obviously 
exciting him as well. His penis began to swell 
underneath her once more. Her body, still filed with 
sexual tension, began to rub against him, 
uncontrollably.

Joan let him roll her over until he was on top of her, 
felt him squeeze her breasts and press against her 
with his hips. Reaching down, she felt him guide the 
head of his penis into her slickness. She felt him 
move in shallow thrust until her body arched to meet 
him.

"I'm going to keep you here all day," she heard him 
whisper to her, "and I'm going to keep fucking you all 
day long until you realize how beautiful you are to 
me. Do you hear that, Joan? All day long. If that's 
what it takes."

Somewhere, beneath all the hurt, Joan began to allow 
herself to hope.