I'm a 26 year old woman from Poland. When I was on a work trip in Chicago recently, I met a 63-year old man who was a representative of our potential business partners. We had a work dinner, but later he asked me out. He was fit for his age, nice, and had a pleasant face, so I agreed. We visited a museum and then he took me to his spacious flat in Downtown Chicago. His name was Charlie.

This is how he fucked me.

Charlie guided me to a large, plush, black sofa. As I leaned back against the cushions, Charlie disappeared for a moment and returned with two small plates of tiramisu and a bottle of dessert wine. He poured us each a glass. The dessert was delicious, and I savoured it slowly. Charlie and I continued chatting, exchanging occasional laughs.

As we both finished our dessert, there was a moment of complete silence. Charlie's eyes locked onto mine. Then he leaned in and softly brushed his lips against mine. I shivered. I had been enjoying our time together so much that I almost forgot he wanted to have sex with me. But it was too late to back out now. I had to jump right in.

Charlie's hand cradled my cheek. He stroked my skin with his thumb. His touch sent waves of warmth across my face. He started kissing me. There was a certain freshness in how he kissed. Men are usually preoccupied with something else as they kiss. They treat the kiss as a necessary prologue to the rest of the show, rushing it, and I can sense their impatience.

Charlie's kiss was different. He was deliberately slow. He started gently at the corner of my mouth. His lips brushed gently, then pressed more firmly against my lower lip, squeezing it tightly and then releasing. He alternated between light and firm movements. Sometimes he traced the contours of my lips with his tongue. He was a true master.

Charlie's hand, which had been cupping my chin, now slipped into my hair and gently grasped the back of my head. To me, it was such a hot, dominating move! His grip was simultaneously smooth so I didn't feel any discomfort, but also firm enough that I couldn't move my head and escape his increasingly brave lips.

I felt controlled by him. But I also felt cherished.

He touched my neck with his other hand, then moved down my shoulder and started exploring my lower back. I felt his fingers dancing around my spine. His kisses became deeper and more demanding. His tongue was now boldly exploring my mouth. But I wasn't idle either. I leaned closer to him. Our tongues intertwined in a rhythmic dance, and the fabric my dress pressed against the rough texture of his shirt.  This friction sent a ripple through my nipples straight to my core.

I moaned. My breathing grew shallow.

"Let's move to the bedroom, shall we?" Charlie said.

I nodded and he led me to the bedroom with a firm hand at my lower back.

He pushed me down onto the king-sized bed, and I reclined on the soft sheets. felt vulnerable under his gaze. But I also wanted to be seen by him and like by him. Then he leaned in, and his hands reached for the hem of my dress. I half-expected him to lift it up and start touching my body – that’s what probably any other man would do.

But Charlie did something else.

With a mischievous grin, he started to slowly roll the fabric, letting it bunch and twist. My dress tightened. It rubbed against my skin, over my stomach, across my breasts. As he rolled the dress, he made sure it grazed the skin of my inner thighs.

I gasped. My back arching slightly in response.

He paused for a moment to letting me feel the sensation and continued rolling the dress higher. Finally, the dress was off. He tossed it aside carelessly. Another dominated move.

Next, his fingers hook into the side straps of my bra. Instead of unclasping it, he rolled the bra upward slowly. The lase edges were igniting a trail of fire as he dragged them over my skin. The cool air of the room made my nipples harden further.

His hands then moved to my panties. He pulled them down just a bit and then stopped letting the elastic snap back against my hips. I flinched.

"Hey, stop!" I said playfully.

He repeated this several times, each snap sending a jolt through my body. Then he started dragging my panties down – slowly, ensuring they tug at every curve and crevice of my lower body. After undressing me, he finally took his jeans and his shirt off. He looked decent for his age, but I no longer cared about his looks. I was ready for him. My body was tense. I was becoming wetter.

His fingers dipped between my thighs and found my slit. He gently stroked.

"You're so wet," he whispered.

"Yes, I'm ready," I responded breathing heavily. The pressure was building in my abdomen.

He grinned.

"No," he said, "Believe me, you're not ready. Not yet."

I was quite close to the edge, but he hadn't even touched my clitoris or nipples. He was so skilful. So experienced. He was playing with my orgasm like cat toys with a ball of yarn.

Finally, I felt good about my decision to see him. I was curious what would happen next.

His hand glided up my legs. His fingers ignited pathways of heat anywhere they went. When he reached the area behind my knees, where my legs bent, he pressed gently. The pulses of pleasure resonated up my thighs.

Simultaneously, his lips were busy at my chest. His mouth was enveloping my nipples one at a time. He suckled eagerly, firmly, rhythmically. He was drawing each nipple into his mouth and then flicking it with his tongue. The contrast between his warm mouth and the cool air hitting my wet nipples made me moan softly.

Charlie was not in a hurry. He was taking his sweet time with my nipples. I was totally consumed by the delicious ache in my lower abdomen which was becoming more and more intense.

Gradually, he shifted his attention slowly down my body. He left the trail of kisses on my stomach and teased my navel with his tongue. My hips twitched.

As he reached my vagina, I felt his warm breath. He leaned in. He licked slowly at first, exploring my folds. I desperately wanted him to move to my clit, but he preferred to take his time with my labia. His tongue traced my folds sometimes diving into the creases where they met my inner thighs.

The teasing was excruciating.

He finally moved deeper into my pussy, He grazed and sucked my inner folds. He would pull them slightly and the releasing with a pop sending shivers through my body.

But he was still avoiding my clit.

I writhed beneath him. My hips were bucking, trying to direct him to my aching bud. He would brush against it occasionally but never quite addressing it directly.

My hands clutched at the sheets. My breathing was erratic and choppy.

"Please," I gasped, "Please, touch me there… I need it."

Yet, he continued his excruciatingly slow exploration. My hips bucked against his face, but he held them down gently.

"Charlie, please, I can't take it anymore," I cried out.

My entire being was focused singularly on the aching bud of my clit. It was pulsing with need.

He finally relented. His tongue flicked out, touching the nub. I shuddered and groaned as the first touch of relief washed over me.

Slowly, he increased the pressure, his tongue circling my clit in slow, deliberate strokes. Each lap increased in intensity.  He sucked gently at first, then with more urgency. His timing was perfect.  He was listening to the tremors fo my body and responding, as if we were dancing. Each one of his rhythmic pulls drew me closer to the edge. Each suck sent waves of pleasure radiating from my vagina.

Then my pleasure reached its peak.

Unstoppable force was taking over my body and shaking me to the core.

But Charlie did not stop. He continued his rhythmic sucking while I was convulsing. His tongue moved as if nothing happened sending more and more waves of orgasm through my body.

I screamed. I couldn't contain it within me anymore. The scream came from the deepest part of me. It was ecstatic. It was primal.

Charlie leaned back, smiling, looking at my convulsions.  My body was slowly relaxing as the waves subsided. I was spent and satisfied.

But Charlie was not. At least not yet. I felt so grateful him for the pleasure he had given me.

"Take me," I said, "Make me you filthy whore..."

Well, Charlie did not need any special invitation.  He was burning with his own need. He quickly positioned himself between my still-quivering thighs. His penis was erect and throbbing, I lifted my hips slightly, guiding him to my entrance.

"You ready for this, you little slut?" he growled. 

He did not wait for me to answer. He plunged into me with full force. I gasped. He immediately set a relentless pace. He was thrusting into me with fierce, jerky movements. His hips slammed against mine. Each impact making a loud, wet smack.

"Take it, bitch," Charlie spat out.

I obeyed and locked my legs around him. Charlie's movements became fore frenzied. I was exhausted but I tried to meet each of his thrusts with one of my own.

As Charlie neared his orgasm, his thrusts became even more erratic, his body tensed, and with a few final, desperate thrusts, he reached his climax. His semen shot deep inside me, and I felt his cock pulsating as he was filling me.

He collapsed by me. I hugged him. We spent some time in total silence. I was catching my breath.

"It was not bad. Don't you think?" he finally said.

"Not bad at all," I responded, "I liked how slow and deliberate you've been with me. It was so refreshing."

He laughed.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked.

"it's out of necessity," he said, "Men of my age can usually perform only with a little help from a certain pill. And it takes a while for the pills to work... So, I had to learn how to entertain the ladies in the meantime..."

I did not think about that.

"Well, you're quite skilled," I said.

"Thank you, Ania," he responded, stroking my hair, "Do you think we can meet again? When are you going back to Poland?"

My flight was in three days.  So, we agreed to meet one more time. As a true gentleman, he asked what he could do to make our time together even more enjoyable for me.  I told him about some of my preference about submission and power exchange.  He seemed deep in his thoughts.

"I must say, I'm not a big fan of these kinds of games... But there's a version of that we both might enjoy.  But tell me if that's not what you want..."

I was intrigued. He described what he had in mind.

"I think I like it," I said.