I thought today might be a great time to confess to one fetish of my own.
Considering that we’re celebrating the Nation’s Independence today and how the fourth of July creates all kinds of fireworks; I have a fetish that lights me up. I LOVE Men in the Military, soldiers, heroes, Veterans. They do a lot more for me than keep our Country safe; We’re talking about beautiful, well built, brave men who are willing to sacrifice their lives, that make me damp at first site. The least I can do in return and gratitude would be volunteering myself to the benefit of a soldier. I feel a very, deep, loving duty to demonstrate my own personal thanks, up close and personal.
Last Veteran’s Day, I happened to be on vacation on the beach in Florida, while still being a drive away from the thick green forests. I love both wildlife in the forests and the wildlife on the beaches. There was an event with several booths offering information for Veterans, enlisted men, and their families, as well as the public. I wandered through the festival after laying by the ocean that day. My skin had a lovely tan to show off in my long emerald green tank dress with that skin tight form-fitting cut and a rather long slit in the right side of the dress so that with each step I took, I showed my long legs in the straw-colored, open-toed stilettos I was wearing.
As I wandered and spoke to people on my visit, I was suddenly stunned and frozen in place. There, right in front of me, stood my ideal dream fetish;
He was tall, stunning, with that high and tight haircut, a little longer than regulation. His jaw was covered with sheer sexy stubble, sideburns, a mustache with a soul patch, built like Adonis, with deep brown brooding eyes. I nearly collapsed at the site of this stud. He obviously noticed, as he stepped forward and asked if I was alright, lightly caressing my left arm. My blue eyes looked directly into his and I asked him, “Are you a married man, Sir?”
He laughed out loud, and said again, “You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
I replied, “Something heavenly like that. Perhaps I need a little air? Do you know somewhere local where I might get some air conditioning and a good glass of wine?”
He nodded and smiled, “I’ll walk you there myself.” His dimples showed and I sighed.
And so, my ideal fetish, a handsome veteran, led me to one of the businesses on the boardwalk.
We soon found ourselves seated very closely in a snug and cozy little booth in a dark bar, playing some smooth jazz in the background. “This bar’s decor is a work of art,” I said. He nodded in agreement. Very sensual pictures hung on the walls, the colors were subtle, the furniture inviting intimacy.
“I like this place, quiet, dim, calming, artistic and classy. I come here to chill out sometimes.” He told me. He was wearing tight Levi’s that in no way could not reveal the enormous bulge in his crotch. I watched him attempt to cover his obvious hardon unsuccessfully.
“Let me make this a little easier,” I said to him and leaned in closer, I put my lips up to his ear, to the point where I knew he felt the heat of my breath, smell my perfume, and I whispered, “I would love if you went on a little bit of a wild ride with me in my convertible.” His eyebrows raised and he stood up, reached out his hand for me to help me up.
Naturally, in the air conditioning, my nipples popped through my dress. Both of us could not hide our attraction to the other.
He paid our tab and we stepped outside. As we strode toward the parking lot, I stopped and pushed him up against the concrete building and oblivious to the wandering beachgoers, I put my hands against his chest and ran my tongue up his neck to his ear. I licked his earlobe and whispered, “Fuck me, please?” He responded by wrapping his arms around me in a tight embrace and pressed his lips to mine, where we engaged in a long tongue-twisting, passionate kiss. He pressed himself against my body until I could feel the swelling hump push against my body. His hand ran down my back to my ass, where I’m sure he discovered that I had no panty lines.
My in the flesh fetish ground his pelvis against mine and I returned the favor.
I wanted to unzip his pants right there put one leg up against that wall and feel him enter me at that moment; I craved him inside me. Instead, I led him to my convertible, parked away from the crowds. There on the hood of the car, I lounged back against the hood, where we resumed our intense kissing, our spark inducing touches, but this time, I wrapped one leg around him and pushed my pussy against the lump in his jeans. I moaned and moved my fingers to the zipper on his jeans and started to lower it. He heavily panted in my ear, “I’m Thomas. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”
Call me to find out if my new friend penetrated me then and there or if I started using my mouth to arouse that hard cock even more…