Amy was fond of very short skirts. When she sat down it was often possible to get a glimpse of her knickers, and lots her long thighs. The view I always liked, when I could get it, was of the cotton bulge of her vulva, when her legs parted accidentally as she arose, or sat. I was in love with the mons. And why not, she had long amazing legs which only ever made me think of her cunt.
It was early days in our relationship and we were in the jump-into-bed-and-fuck-whenever-we-could phase. Or on the couch. Or on the kitchen table. Or against the wall. I couldn't take my eyes off her when she was naked, or walking around the apartment wearing just her knickers, or bending over. She knew it. She would smile and pose, and tease. Her pubic hair was pale, the glimpse of her pink labia was intoxicating, her wetness was a drug I couldn't get enough of and she closed her eyes and sighed when my face was buried in her cunt. I fucked her with my face, my nostrils and mouth filled with the taste of her juice, my eyes and eyebrows hard up against her buttocks when I knelt over her, facing her feet, my tongue lapping at her clitoris, while she stroked my leaking cock as it dangled in her face.
Yet there was something missing. She was holding something back. I didn't know what it was. She loved to have me face-fuck her, and while she was an excellent tease with her hands, had never so much as put her mouth near to my cock.
I had never much been into fellatio. It wasn't as if I needed my cock sucked to enjoy sex. I liked it, but the pleasure I got was always mitigated by the thought that my partner wasn't getting any attention while my cock was being sucked. I didn't want to come in a partner's mouth because I immediately felt embarrassed that I had lost control, and by the usual wiping and grimacing that went on afterwards. Fellatio was something my other girlfriends had done out of a desire for reciprocation of the attention paid by me to their cunts. But they had all done it. They had all happily sucked on my cock until, close to orgasm, I pushed them off to finally unload my semen onto their pubic hair, their stomachs, their breasts or into the warm cleft of their buttocks into their cunts. Never onto their faces. But not Amy. She was skilled with her hands and her cunt fit me like a glove but, because she wouldn't go there in sucking me I became obsessed with wanting her to.
I tried talking to her about it, asking if she had sucked anyone else's cock. It got me nowhere. She didn't say she had or hadn't, that she did or didn't like it, or admit that it was a part of the usual sexual practice of most couples. Instead she got coy. She put her hand on my cock and stroked it to hardness, whispering into my year.
"You like this, don't you? What's wrong with this? You like cumming in my cunt. You like cumming on me. Let me make you come with my hand. Fuck my hand! Cum in my armpit."
That was a real turn-on. I love cumming in her smooth armpit and onto her breasts. Talk like that always made me explode. Pumping semen into her hand. But then I felt embarrassed. What was in it for her, as she looked at the oozing cream dripping from her fingers, or puddling under her arm, with that enigmatic smile that frustrated me so much?
She had told me that her last boyfriend had a huge cock. That didn't help. She said that having sex sometimes hurt and didn't go into details. I had never worried about the size of my cock before but after she said that, like most males, I wondered if I measured up. It's natural to think a bigger cock is going to be better than a smaller cock, despite knowing that it isn't. There's more to sex than the size of a man's cock - so she told me -- and according to the literature! Still, I couldn't but worry, and put it together with her reluctance to even kiss my cock, despite the energy I put into her tonguing her cunt.
She wasn't too keen, either, on kissing me when my mouth was full of the taste of her.
Her last boyfriend, Tom, the one with the reputedly big cock, was a photographer. Occasionally when we had sex she would call out his name as she orgasmed. She never noticed and I didn't say anything. But the thought of her fucking him turned me on.
"He took photos of me," she once said.
She wouldn't say whether clothed, unclothed, tastefully or lewdly. Of course I imagined lewd. I had lewd in my mind. I imagined her naked and doing whatever it was that he wanted of her. I imagined her sucking his cock while he took photos.
One day I was home alone and, feeling intimidated by her past without knowing why, I searched his name on a photo web site.
To my surprise I found a profile, almost immediately, that I was sure was him. I recognised some local landscapes and streets on his cover page. I browsed through them. Yes, and there was a photo of Amy sitting on the bonnet of his car. More of a snapshot than something arty. And not at all erotic. There were photos of other women, too, a couple of whom I knew. Women who moved in intersecting circles. Very hot and attractive women. Also snapshots from trips or social occasions. Nothing raunchy. If he had any rude photos they were hidden and only available to approved contacts.
I clicked through his list of photo contacts, through the list of groups to which he subscribed. Unlike me he didn't hide anything. While most of his groups were bona-fide photo groups, there were also some that probably catered to his sexual proclivities. Milf groups, Shared Girlfriends, Hot Naked Girlfriend groups. I clicked the button requesting him to make me a contact. I had an anonymous account and I didn't expect any reply. I had nothing to offer him and most of these relationships were transactional. You show me your rude photos and I'll show you mine.
Later that day, scrolling through my feed, I found that he had accepted my contact request. I clicked onto the photo roll that this unlocked.
It was shocked and amazed. It was huge. The vanilla photos I had seen yesterday were buried amongst hundreds of erotic and pornographic photos. And short videos. His girlfriends. He had put a black mask over their faces, but I recognised them.
And there was Amy amongst them. I knew that was what I was going to find. I just knew it. And knowing what I was going to find had made my cock fully aroused.
I knew Tom a little through friends of friends. He had always seemed super confident, always surrounded by beautiful people, both men and women, drinking and flirting and laughing in a group. Since Amy and I had gotten together we had exchanged glances in a different way. When we came across him in the street it felt like Amy didn't want to fully acknowledge her new relationship with me to him. She kept it cool, didn't introduce me, took a half step away, seemed to act a bit coyly, was quiet after he went on his way, as if she was thinking about something else.
Inspired, or excited by what I had seen I had to do something. I had to tell her.
She came home full of energy about her day. As she put her bag on the counter I imagined her bent over it, as I had seen her bend over in some photos, lifting her short skirt and admiring her curved bottom and the knickers that might have ridden into her crack. I imagined holding her down over the counter, my hand in the small of her back while she made only a token resistance.
"What's up?" she asked, unable to read the look on my face.
"Nothing." I pulled myself together. "Do you want a drink?"
I opened a bottle of white wine and poured her a glass.
She nestled into my arms as she took it from me.
"Feel like an hors d'ouvre?" she asked rubbing against me.
"You're a bit frisky," I said.
"It's been a long day. I need to unwind."
I slipped my hand between the buttons of her dress and massaged her breasts over her light bra.
"Do you want to do something different?" I asked.
"Like what?" She was surprised.
"Tying up! How about I tie you up and fuck you? We've never done that."
Was I going too fast? She had been tied in some photos. On the bed, across a table, across a coffee table, on a couch. And that was only the half of it. Only the half of what I had in mind, of what I had seen in those photos and I too wanted to do.
