Cum Drinking Asian

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Hi! I've got a story to tell you about my first encounter with meeting people. I'm really new to this, so first let me introduce myself.

My handle here is MEG LUVS. I'm an attractive, married, 40 year old woman. I'm about 5'10", have long brown hair, and dreamy brown eyes. I have a figure which, though my weight has gone up and down over the years, still seems to excite my husband. He loves my 38DD breasts and their large nipples. I've been married to the same guy for about 19-20 years. My husband and I have always been open with each other, have a pretty good relationship after all these years, and seem to get along pretty well, both in and out of bed.

But lately he hasn't been as attentive as he should. He seems to work all the time. I never seem to see him, it's just a quick peck on the cheek as he goes out the door in the morning. He goes to work, works until late -- sometimes 6:00 or 7:00 and then leaves to go to work at a part-time job which keeps him out til about Midnight. By the time he gets home, has his supper, and comes to bed, he's too tired to do much of anything. And quite frankly, I've been getting very frustrated.

Then I discovered BBSs. My husband and I have always been fairly active users of BBS's, and so when I heard about NIX, and especially about the anonymous type of sexy things people talk about on here, I was intriqued. Maybe I could satisfy myself vicariously......

I was browsing through the lists of users one evening when I discovered another user, WINEMAKER WINEMAKER, who lives in a town very near mine (about 3-4 miles away). I was intrigued. He was about the same age as me, was married, getting bored with his life, and wanted a little excitement.

We started to correspond through BBS messages, and over the ensuing weeks our letters seemed to get steamier and steamier, until we were corresponding about fantasies we'd had which neither of us had ever told our spouses about.

After reading one particularly "hot" letter, I casually asked if we might meet at a quiet "watering hole" in a nearby town where neither of us knew anyone. (Better to pick neutral ground.) I'd never dreamed that I would do that. But I had had a particularly nasty argument with my hubby that morning over something stupid and I just did it. Needless to say, WINEMAKER accepted my invitation. What transpired however, I think surprised both of us.

We arranged to meet and at the appointed time I arrived. I was wearing a fairly conservative print blouse, a pair of old comfortable Levi's, my sneakers, and a particular jacket so that WINEMAKER would recognize me.

There he sat at the bar, dressed in sweat pants, sweat shirt, tennis shoes, and sporting a particular hat, by which I would know him. He was shorter than I am. (Most everyone is.) Had a beard and moustache. (I love men with hair on their faces.) And I could tell from the way he wore those sweats, he obviously took pretty good care of himself.

I moved to a quiet out-of-the-way booth and sat down. He came over, introduced himself, and then sat down. He was obviously very nervous, and a little embarrassed. As if he was the only one. After all, I'd never done anything like this before. Sure there had been men who had made passes at me over the years, but I'd always ignored them. I certainly hadn't gone out of my way to meet one of them.

Well one thing led to another, and before I knew it, we were both sitting there next to each other in that dark corner booth, and having drinks. I don't drink very often, and after a glass or two of wine I was certainly feeling less inhibited and nervous than I had when I walked in. WINEMAKER was too.

We started talking about all those torrid fantasies we'd told each other about through all that electronic mail, and how we'd never dreamed we'd meet the person we'd told all those things to. I asked WINEMAKER if it turned him on to read all that stuff. He answered that it did more than he would have thought possible. I glanced down at his lap and could see that beneath that soft pile of those sweatpants, there was a monstrous erection growing that he was making no attempt to hide.

The very thought of it was making me very hot. I could imagine what that cock of his looked like, and I found myself day-dreaming about it. Suddenly through that steamy reverie, it dawned on me that he had asked if I wanted to see how turned on it made him. Without thinking really, and without saying anything, I shook my head slowly in the affirmative. He smiled, moved closer to me, put one arm around my shoulders, and with his other hand, guided my left hand inside the front of his sweat pants.

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His cock was enormous. It was thick, uncircumcised, and had to have been 9-10 inches long. As my fingers touched it, I was struck with how silky smooth the skin felt, and the heat of his excitement. I couldn't believe I was doing this, and at the same time the strangeness and novelty and excitement were too much to ignore. I found myself moving my hand inside of his sweat pants down to his testicles, which I gently cupped in my hand, stroked them with my thumb and then moved my hand back up the shaft of his penis to the head. It was still covered with his foreskin, and I had a uncontrollable desire to see the object I had only read about over many weeks.

WINEMAKER whispered in my ear, "Go ahead MEG, you know you want to." And with his left hand he unsnapped and unzipped my Levi's. He then slid his right arm from around my shoulders, down behind me, and slid his right hand down my back, into my panties, and grabbed the right cheek of my butt. He began kneading the soft flesh, and I could feel myself getting very wet. He slowly moved his hand between the cheeks of my butt, and downward until I could feel his fingers begin to explore my pussy.

I couldn't stand it anymore. With my right hand, I untied the string at the front of his sweat pants, pulled the elastic waistband away from his body, and with my left hand moved his enormous cock out from under the soft material. It was even larger than my mind's eye had imagined. It was beautiful. I took my hand and slowly slid the foreskin back, until the large, purple head of his cock was exposed.

Meanwhile, WINEMAKER had worked his fingers up into my wet pussy, and was busy massaging my clit with the juices he was gathering from inside of me. With his thumb and index finger he was stroking one of my cunt lips, while he fished his middle finger in and out of my wet pussy and over to stroke my clit, and with his ring finger and pinkie stroked the other cunt lip. The sensation was tremendous. It was as if there were three sets of lips kissing or teasing my pussy.

I knew I couldn't take much more of this or things would get even more out of hand. And yet I didn't want to stop. I knew I was getting close to an orgasm myself, and I wanted to see rivers of CUM flow from that beautiful cock I'd only been reading about all those weeks. I whispered so to WINEMAKER. He asked me if I wanted to taste it.

As if in a dream, I frantically stroked that massive cock. Almost as if I was watching someone else do it, I moved my head down into his lap and I put my lips around the head and began to gently suck, while tickling the tip with my tongue, and stroking that enormous cock with my right hand. My efforts were quickly rewarded with a massive flow of sperm, which I found myself gulping down.

Somewhat taken aback by my boldness and by the orgasm I had also had at the same time, I took a napkin, wiped my mouth, swallowed the last of my glass of wine, zipped my pants, and left the bar without saying a word.

We met and never learned each other's real name. I've never seen WINEMAKER WINEMAKER since. (But I'd like too...)