As a porn writer, I often find myself the subject of men's fantasies.

After all, a part of me goes into every piece I publish.

I've scores of erotic letters from fans and some include some very tempting offers, but

I've always turned them down.

Though I model my heroines after me, I don't have a pornstar body and I worry that my fans will be disappointed.

Then one night, one particular letter got my attention. It was a well written critique of my work and unlike most of pictures people sent, his photo was not a cock shot.

It was of his face.

I agreed to meet him in a coffee shop to discuss my work.

When I saw him my jaw hit the floor. His photo did not do him justice.

I sat nervously and began chitchatting about my work when he stopped me by laying a gentle finger on my lips.

"Do you really want to talk?" he asked.

I shook my head and he took my hand.

Back at his place I all but tore his shirt off, sinking my teeth into his strong neck. He tasted incredible and I bowed my head to his chest, nipping at his nipples.

"Minx," he teased, shoving me back on his bed. Before I realized his intent, my skirt and panties were gone. I screamed as his tongue touched my clit and then teased it with his teeth. It was so good I tried to pull away, but he held my hip in one hand and plunged his fingers into my pussy with the other.

I came violently, my hips arching, my body shaking. But he wasn't done.

His mouth was on my tits now, sucking strongly, until to my surprise, I came again.
I moaned helplessly as he fucked me.