Dolly Always Listens to Her Body
My body wants what it wants. I always have listened to my body—as an athlete during competition, during training, and, after a few injuries through the years, during rehab. And, since my late teens, my body has told me that it loves sex. Hi, I'm Dolly.
As I said, I listen to my body. My body and my heart don't always see eye to eye. I have enjoyed some splendid fuck sessions with men I'd never want to marry, or even be involved with in a dating relationship. Men are the same way, aren't they? They see a hot babe, fantasize about having hot sex with her, and don't know anything about her personality, whether they are compatible ... and don't much care. I guess my pussy thinks like a cock—it is concerned only with raw sexual attraction.
College was, well, a damn buffet of pleasure, if you want to know the truth. I had boyfriends, sure, and was faithful to none of them. The fun part was that I tried to do my cheating on the sly. They were boyfriends for a reason, usually because they were hot, had great muscular bodies, and could kiss in a way that just opened up every part of me (yes, EVERY part) to be receptive to their desires. Most of the time, they had some of those qualities plus style, a sense of humor, maybe a great car, or a really cool apartment. Hey, it was college, you know? My junior year roommate, Gwen, came home one morning fucked full of married alumni sperm during some conference that was held on campus, and her excuse was, "He had a Corvette.” You know what? I understood. And then I told her she really needed to take this "use condoms" stuff seriously, though, thank goodness, she was on the pill.
My favorite college fuck, looking back, was my teaching assistant in organizational behavior. He was a grad student from New Zealand with a great accent. A cyclist, he rode his bike everywhere and had great legs and an ass I just wanted to dig my nails into while pulling him deeper into me. I wanted to get a strong grade in the class, so I showed up for office hours or met him for coffee to review the week's material. He always looked so hot. I saw him eyeing my cleavage, and those cycling shorts did nothing to hide the fact that his cock was thinking the same thing my pussy was thinking—“where can we go and get busy with each other?” I leaned in and whispered into his ear as he stared straight down my tank top, "You're not really going to make me wait until the semester is over for us to hook up, are you? We'd be so hot together." I saw his cock twitch through that lycra bike shorts. But damn, he had academic ethics to go with that nice long tool, so he whispered back, his hand on my thigh under the table, "I've wanted to sink my cock into you like a hot knife through butter since Day 1. If you remember me walking by your seat on the aisle that day, it was to get a look at your name written on your notebook. Then I pulled your name to be in one of my sections instead of one of the other grad student’s. But not until after the final exam. Is it a date?”
Maybe it was the waiting, the five weeks of anticipation. Dolly doesn't usually have to wait for cock. Yeah, its not like I wasn't having sex with my cadre of regular lovers, but I wanted HIM. So there was a sense of victory when we went off campus that night just about three hours after the final exam, and I got to see his graduate student apartment. Most of what I saw, though, was the ceiling in the bedroom, the view that one could see while bent over the back of his sofa, and an up-close view of the tile in his shower when he fucked me there too. I had to reach back behind me to grab his ass while he pile drove me from behind. We stood with our knees bent, and I leaned my head and shoulder against the shower stall. The hot Kiwi placed one strong hand on my waist, the other on my shoulder to pull himself in. I never did it with him again, but that one was one fun memory.
But college is generally full of younger men, and, while the young, maintenance-free bodies are fun to play with, my body started telling me that it wanted real, adult men for sex partners. I try not to fuck where I work. I don't want to sound stuck up, but guys tend to have a great time when we have sex, so they want to come back for more. If I don't share that desire, it can create a bad situation for the workplace.
Sometimes, though, a girl can't help herself. I was a government relations liaison for a period of time with a major corporation that had a lot of federal supply contracts. Sounds boring maybe, except that this was in the era when government entertaining wasn't so tightly controlled. And the Air Force was a “major” customer. The officer in charge of overseeing our contract was a Major. He'd spend a couple of weeks a month at our offices, and he got a great government rate at the downtown Hilton connected to the convention center. One Friday, we were the last two to leave a meeting when he asked what my weekend plans were. Did I mention he wrestled at the Air Force Academy? He had a great, rock-hard body, though, when he was in uniform, you usually couldn't tell. Only at the company's on-site gym did I get to see his legs and arms when he would do a 5K on a treadmill and then hit the weights. His eyes were often on me, and mine were on him. It was not a shocker that both of us lingered when that meeting broke up. "I'm going to the concert downtown. I was probably going to head out early for dinner first, just to beat traffic. And you, Major?" I loved calling him Major. I had gotten the idea from watching his eyes when I called him that. I must have been touching on some kinky fetish fantasy by doing so. "I didn't know about the concert, but I stay at the Hilton downtown. Since I'm here next week too, I'm staying over the weekend. How about a bite together before the concert?" OMG, how about we bite each other! I'm fairly sure to this day I only thought that and didn't say it out loud. He was so hot!
I followed him downtown in my car and valeted it after he dropped his off. We went through the automatic door into a busy lobby. He really was trying to be a gentleman before we both dropped the act and got down to some enthusiastic scrogging. "Mind if I change out of my uniform. You can either wait in the lobby bar or if you...." I cut him off, took the key from his hand, and said, "I'll freshen up, too.” I felt myself lubricating, as we got into the elevator without saying anything else. I let him press the button for an upper floor. Lots of company—damn. I love making out in an elevator. He got out of the elevator, led me to Room 1515, then gestured at the door, since I still had the key.
I opened the door and stood aside as he walked in. Then I put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the outside, deposited the key on the little table near the microwave in his junior suite, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him. His hands went to my ass, then to the side of my tits, cupping them. Then I lost track. He was touching all of me, and I was doing the same to him. We were a couple of young adults, me younger than him, in shape and ready to have at it.
I took his clothes off, and he eagerly helped. Nice tool, not huge, but proportional to his body, a bit above average, and intensely erect. He was one of the first men I slept with who did manscaping, which was a real novelty to me at the time. I stroked his cock, bit his nipple, then knelt to lick the underside of his cock shaft from his balls to his pee hole, making eye contact the entire time, raking the back of his thigh with my nails. I was so fucking wet. Then I took him in my mouth. I confess I was so eager, young, and greedy that I didn't do much of a tease. Maybe four bobs was all it took for me to get adjusted and have my nose in his trimmed man bush. The taste of precum! Oh God, I wanted to surrender to the military. Or did I want to conquer it? "Mmmmm, Major, I love the way your cock tastes." Slut talk is such a turn on to guys, and its fun too! "Will you fuck me with your steel hard cock, Major? I want to feel your body against me. Will you?"
So then he was taking my clothes off, as I tried to keep either my mouth or my hand on his tool the whole time. It didn't take long, though I thought to myself I was going to be a wrinkled mess having left my bag of concert attire in my trunk. Too late—there were my clothes on the floor.
I put my heels back on, wearing just my bikini panties and push-up bra—black heels, white lingerie. I felt his hands on my hips, and he kissed my neck and shoulder as his cock snuggled into my still (barely) panty-clad ass crack. His chest was against my back, and I braced myself using my arms. "Yesssss," was all I could utter. His hand went straight to the back of my bra; it was on the floor and my breasts were in his hands in no time. The cool of the room made his touch feel warm against my flesh. "Fuck me, Major, please!" Aha! I had said the magic words, and his thumbs hooked into my panties and slid them down my legs, his hands caressing my suppleness all the way to the floor. I stepped out of them, naked except for my heels. I wondered, would he want me to leave them on? His fingers found their way back to my waist and then down to my heat, which, at that time in my life, was not fully shaven, just very trimmed. He was rough and strong, went straight to my clit, lubed his finger by dipping it in, and then twiddled me in a way that didn't take long to make me cum. And then cum again. And then I called him a bastard if he didn't go ahead and fuck me soon.
I know I said my body wants what it wants. I wanted to be fucked at that moment, not do the fucking and take the lead as I now so love doing. Hey, I was younger. I was 24 years old, fucking a man a dozen years older (we swapped birthdates later, during the afterglow, while I missed my concert). While I'm pretty sure I had been with more sex partners than he had –I've left out A LOT of my college activity, but I should really get an honorary life membership in Phi Delta Theta for the services provided to their brothers in a college town without cable television and before the Internet—it did seem like a fantasy come true for me. Only after I finally had sex with a General did I get the sense that Majors were a dime a dozen. I was 24, sexy, and horny, what can I say? Anyway, I was relieved when he took the initiative, reached over to his nightstand, and opened the drawer to get a condom. I had a few in my bag, which was somewhere on the floor, but it’s so nice when I don't have to say or do anything.
They were the lubed kind, not that I needed any help. The lube felt cold on my hot pussy when he rubbed his cock's head against my labia. "I've wanted this for so long, Dolly," he said. Then he adjusted the angle of his cock and plunged in. Again, nothing subtle. It was so satisfying to have in in me at last. I bucked back against him, meeting his thrusts, and he lasted a long time in this standing doggie position, his hands on my tits, his teeth on my ear. It was hot sex, no love, not even lust, just animal sex. Just right. Hot breath, our bodies touching, sweat down his body dripping onto my ass, an occasional spank, not mean, just, well, a fuck spank from an Air Force Major. "Can I ride you, Major?" I asked. He didn't even answer; he just pulled out and laid down on the foot of the bed, his legs dangling off. I motioned him back toward the pillows, so he shimmied up. I crawled up and straddled him. Then our eyes met, for the first time in a while, actually. I kissed him and sucked his tongue as I positioned my hot spot over him and sank down. He'd fucked me so well by that time, and he wasn't overly large, so I didn't need to ease into it. I just mounted and started bucking and fucking, fucking and bucking. He placed his hands on my nipples, cupping my entire globes, then moved one hand to my ass to steady the pace and pull me tight on my down-thrusts. Okay, I thought, I'm ready for another position change, so I said I wanted to turn around. He looked confused, and I realized I knew a position he didn't. Wasn't there porn in the Air Force back then? I told him to stay put, I'd show him, and I made a spinner out of myself, never slipping all the way off as I rotated so that I was still on top of him but facing the same direction. Reverse cowgirl, if you're taking notes.
He'd been taking care of my insides nicely, and his body felt good wherever I touched him. Then I cheated and reached down to touch my outsides while he filled me. My trembling, shaking, full voiced "Ahhhh, ooohhhh, yesssss, ahhhh, fuck, yessss, oh fuck yesss ... uuughhhh" was probably going through the Hilton walls, but I didn’t give a damn and was so glad to cum again. Within seconds, I felt him start to stiffen and spasm. He grunted, tightened his grip on my shoulders from behind, increased the pace of his thrusts, and let out a huge orgasmic roar. I love cumming at the same time! "Thank you Major!"
I mentioned the afterglow. I never made it to the concert. We ordered room service, including some wine, and afterwards we continued our carnal adventure. I came three more times, and he did twice, including once in my mouth. I swallowed, and he invited me to rinse before we kissed. He wasn't big on kissing after sex. I found out this was a habit he had learned from escorts. Silly girls, kissing is an excellent way to really get all your senses into the recreational, or even commercial, sex that has nothing to do with love. It’s just what the body wants. We went at it again the next morning and then ran out of condoms. We thought about going to lunch and stopping by the pharmacy to get more, but in the end, there wasn't any romance between us to spend a full weekend in bed. While I enjoyed the sex and the fun of calling him Major and his terrific body, we'd each satisfied our wants. About a month later, we saw each other in the gym. When we were both hot and sweaty and finished with our workouts, he asked if I was coming downtown anytime soon. "How about now?" "That's what I had in mind." But I went home that night after a couple of pokes and a suck. He never went down on me. I guess that goes with not being oral enough to want to kiss me. But that's okay, I now know. All dates are different. Some men like to do things that others don't. And sometimes, for example, I'll see a huge cock, and damn I just want to focus on deep fucking. Then there’s the thrill of anal when a man says, "There's no way I'm going to fit back there." That's the great thing with having more than one lover—the variety, the thrill, the suspense, the surprise ... okay, and the orgasms!
I'm still an office professional, I still work out, I still listen to my body, and I still have sex with the men of my choosing. I'm blessed to have a lot of interest. Having learned that men value discretion and the qualities I offer as a lover in a non-committed sexual friendship, I enjoy generous financial gifts, unmarked envelopes, from most, though not all, of the men whose bodies I use for my pleasure. Okay, I'm teasing—I love making men happy, it’s a power trip. So is the cash-filled envelope, knowing a man wants me that much. When he says he wants to see me again, that's the best. I'd tell you more about that first time with a General, during a tour visit to Washington, D.C. for "Dolly Dates,” but that will have to wait for another time. I just got a text from a great guy who loves using his mouth to make me quiver and quake—and he's on his way up.
Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure!