I, a 45M from the UK, was in Atlanta for work last week with a post to meetup post lectures. I travel across the UK and US frequently, especially New York, San Francisco, Seattle, Ohio, New York, and Boston.

It started with a simple post, a mix of curiosity and desire—a blindfolded coffee tasting with a professor/student dynamic, all leading to something far more intimate. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but then she [23F] appeared.

We met in the hotel lobby around 10 p.m. to check the vibes, and oh, did they check out. She called herself Belle— 5’2, blonde, curvy in all the right places, with a twinkle in her eyes that said she was ready for anything. She told me my British accent was smashing, whilst I was utterly taken by her soft Southern lilt, dripping with charm. We lingered in the moment, teasing with words, letting the tension simmer until we finally took the lift up to my room.

Once inside, I switched into professor mode. I took her delicate wrist, guiding her into place before slipping the blindfold over her eyes. The anticipation in her breath was intoxicating. I let my fingers trail lightly across her arm, letting her feel me before anything truly began. The quiet sounds of my pourover preparation filled the room as I described every movement—the slow pour, the steam rising, the aroma filling the air. She listened, her senses sharpening as I brought each cup to her lips, having her differentiate smell, taste, and mouthfeel.

But it was the final tasting where things took a turn.

Instead of another sip of coffee, it was my tongue that entered her mouth—deep, slow, deliberate. My fingers tangled in her hair, exploring the soft curve of her face, trailing down to cup her full breasts. Her breath hitched as I teased her nipples through her shirt, my other hand slipping lower, finding its way between her thighs. I circled her clit, coaxing soft moans from her lips as she sat there, helpless to anything but sensation.

As I stood and unzipped, the heat between us palpable. The first touch of my cock against her lips was tentative—a featherlight kiss, then a flick of her tongue. Her breath was warm against me, teasing, before she finally parted those lips and took me in. All of me. I'm more excited because I've encountered this throat goat.

The slow rhythm was maddening, each stroke of her mouth sending fire through my veins. I whispered instructions, guiding her to take me even deeper, to move in long, deliberate strokes. When she moaned around me, the vibrations nearly undid me right there. And then she whispered, "I want to swallow every last drop."

That was all I needed.

I took control, holding the back of her head in place, thrusting deep until my body shuddered, my vision blurred, and I spilled every last bit down her eager throat. She took it all, her lips sealing around me, draining me completely. She didn't want to stop and slowly licking and bobbing until I couldn't take anymore When she finally removed the blindfold, her eyes met mine, gleaming with satisfaction. She asked for another lesson when I'm back in town next.

Belle wasn’t done. Some nights are just meant to be. I absolutely appreciate the Southern hospitality and hope to be back again.