Naughty First

She'd always wondered what it would be like to date a rasta man. Little did she know that, somewhere down the line, sooner rather than later, she'd be dating one.

It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to her, really. Life had taught her that whatever she thought, whatever she wished for, whatever she was curious about, often came along eventually, when she'd least forgotten she'd thought about it in the first place.For example, years ago, she'd wondered what it would be like to go out with a much older man. She'd always gone out with guys who were close to her in age, a couple of years older or a couple of years younger than her. Years later, she met a man 14 years her senior. And to tell the truth, it didn't really feel like she was going out with a much older man. He was young at heart and his age mattered nowt. Not one sugary bit. He was just who he was. If anything, he was less selfish in bed, more romantic, foreplay was his middle name. A caress? No. Caresses? Yes! - and lots of them, thank you very much! (Buy one caress, get loads free!)Back to the rasta guy. She met him at an event. He was a musician - sang amazingly - played the guitar - played it really good. She wanted to be his guitar.He had one of the most beautiful smiles she'd ever seen on a human being. A smile to adore. A mouth to adore. Big juicy kissable lips to adore.It wasn't just his mouth that curled up, it was his eyes - he smiled all the way up to his eyes. He was Romantic too - in his own way. Played the guitar for her in bed first thing in the morning - bare chested - he sung to her - better than any CD or record she'd ever heard.Then they'd make love.

Ever been touched by hands that have just played a guitar?His Caress was different. Felt different. Romantic, but organic.She became his guitar ...if only for one morning.