First contact

Sophie came across the ad on one of several sex sites she frequented, mostly for the erotic literature but also for the contact with people of similarly indulgent sexual tastes. In real life nobody would ever suspect that she indulged in anything other than the ‘normal’ activities. Away from work, on sites such as these, she was free to wander wherever her dirty little mind cared, with no repercussions. Aside from occasional obsessive bouts of masturbation.

She had read the ad several times. She’d just finished messaging (yet) another Daddy figure and it had left her excited but not quite ‘there’, as was so often the case when there was no ‘connection’: too often guys just wanted to ‘fuck their little baby up the ass’. Not she minded anal, in fact she liked it with the right man, it’s just she needed more preamble, some realism. So she went looking through the Daddy/daughter ads and found this one and she kept coming back to it because there was something about it that was different to the others. Something that touched a chord with her. She realised it may just be another old man looking for young flesh but the intimacy and voyeurism had her intrigued. After much to-ing and fro-ing, one night she took the plunge, and an email correspondence ensued.

He turned out to be quite different to the other old men (a weakness of hers) she had talked to and a bond developed. Enthusiasm for the engagement increased.

After a few weeks of email exchanges, Sophie agreed to meet him. This was a big step, and potentially dangerous she knew. However, she was a smart girl and took all the normal precautions and followed all the rules. She was rewarded with an entertaining evening in an expensive restaurant with a quite charming man. Old, yes, but in good shape and attractive. The conversation never dulled, he had a sparkling wit and an inquisitive mind. He took a lot of interest in her and was supremely attentive. He never once ogled her. She had been careful to dress smartly and not provocatively, treading a mid line, but she felt she needn’t have bothered, he was quite the gentleman, interested in her as a woman, as a human being, and her mind. Which she found very attractive , in fact quite a turn on. At one point in the evening as she gazed at him over the rim of her glass of wine, she appraised him, partly questioning the apparent lack of sexual interest in her but also deliberately posing sexual questions in her mind.

‘Could she imagine herself having sex with him?’. Answer, ‘yes’

‘What limits did she think she’d have with him?’. Answer, ‘few’

Which fleetingly conjured up various images: his cock in her hand, her mouth; doggy style sex; bondage, spreadeagled on his bed, his body dwarfing her; anal even. She knew that none of this was his intention but it was a good litmus test, and he passed.

The evening was a resounding success and they arranged to meet again. There had been no discussion of ‘the arrangement’, they had just got on well. Lying in bed reflecting on the evening, she had a languid, relaxing orgasm, one of those that slowly builds and just tingles without the crescendo, when she got home that night.