K's Story

A few days ago I posted a fantasy sent to me by K, a woman who answered an ad I placed in SF Weekly. The fantasy, entitled The Surrogate, described what she wanted to happen when we met for our rendezvous.

The ad I placed was just a short two line invitation to women who were interested in anal play. Mine was not by any means the only such ad, you always get several of them in any random collection of sex ads, but K liked mine. She left a voice mail telling me she was interested, giving her work number in a very confidant and straightforward manner. I called her up, introduced myself and asked if she was free to talk. She told me to hold on while she closed her office door. We exchanged some basic information about our mutual sexual interests and arranged to meet in person to check each other out the following day.

The rendezvous was after work in the bar of a downtown San Francisco hotel, one of those luxurious business hotels not far from Mascone Convention Center (see my previous post for why I like such places for this type of meeting). I got there early ordered a drink and settled into a comfortable seat with a good view of the entrance.

I didn't have to wait long until she showed up and recognized me - I had told her what I would be wearing and that I'd be reading a particular magazine. I must say that I was quite impressed. She was Asian, in her early 30's, with a thin and petite figure and a face to match. She had on minimal makeup, a pair of wire-frame glasses perched delicately on her petite nose, her black hair in a neat pageboy cut. She was impeccably dressed in stereotypical business attire, a tasteful dark matching jacket and skirt, reaching to just below the knee, black hose, conservative black shoes, a black trench coat draped over her arm and a large black soft leather briefcase in her hand. You could have picked her right out of a stock photo depicting the perfect upwardly mobile young Asian business woman.

The whole effect was quite stunning, and it got better. After we said hello and she dropped off her stuff on a chair she went off to the bar and ordered a martini for herself, bringing it back with a confidant step. The picture of this elegant young woman sitting there, sipping a martini in posh hotel surroundings was positively cinematic.

We got to know each other.

The story she told me may or may not be true, but if it was not then it certainly should be. If the gods chose to throw down this delicate china doll my way I was not about mess with their gift by poking holes in her story. Needless to say I was far more interested in poking her other holes. She told me she was a junior executive at a large bank. That much at least I knew to be true from various other clues. She also told me that she was in a lesbian relationship, living with her lover but going through some unspecified rough patch. She said that every once in a while she had the need to feel a man, and that she really liked anal play with her partner and wanted to scratch that itch with a guy. My ad and voice mail message turned her on and here we were. As you can imagine the delightful mental pictures evoked by this story were flying though my head at the speed of light.

Her conversational manner was very concise and to the point. She would say what she wanted to say, then stop, letting the silence linger. I got her entertaining story and some details about her past sexual experience simply in the course of trying to fill the conversational voids, which to the best of my judgment did not discomfort her at all. Ordinarily I don't delve too deeply into a woman's private life because it's none of my business, but in this case I kind of wound up asking all the questions almost by default.

We chatted for about a half hour while she finished her drink, a feast for the senses throughout. Eventually I asked if she was interested in playing with me and she said yes. She said that she had a specific fantasy in mind. We exchanged email and she said she'd write it up and send it to me. I would arrange a place for us to meet and we would coordinate next week. We gathered our things and strolled out of the hotel, me to drive back to the South Bay and she home to her lover - or so I prefer to believe being the stereotypical, red-blooded, lesbian loving guy that I am.

A couple of days later the email arrived with her fantasy and we arranged our rendezvous. But that is a story for another post, so you'll just have to wait for it with your hand in your panties.