Cultural Exchanges

A short one this time, with a pretty fair amount of sex; please note, there's anal in this one. If that's not your jam, read until... well, you can figure that out, and then jump to the last couple of paragraphs.

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"This isn't Tex-Mex. This is a war crime."

Emma giggled at my complaint. "It's not that bad."

"It is! I mean, the food's not bad, but it sure as hell isn't Tex-Mex. Neither Texas nor Mexico would claim it, and certainly not both together."

We were, as was often the case, sitting in my hotel room, eating room service after a long day of work. "Often" might not be the right word, though. We'd only been together for a month, but I'd been on crunch for the first three weeks of that, with only Sundays off. Can anything that's only happened for a month be considered "often?"

Regardless, pretty much every weeknight I'd opened the door to my hotel room and found my gorgeous girlfriend lying on the bed with a room service menu in hand or, occasionally, takeout at the ready. We'd gone through most of the offerings from the hotel's dining room, but tonight, I'd finally decided to take the plunge and try their attempt at fajitas. "Attempt" was being generous.

"You've still eaten half the plate." Emma was sitting comfortably in a robe as we ate, as was I. Her hair was still damp, while mine was pretty much nonexistent after having shaved it down again a few days previous. This was another part of our semi-ritual. I'd come in, we'd make out for a little bit as we were deciding what to eat, we'd place the order, and then we'd shower together while we waited. Sometimes we made love under the spray, but almost as often we just cuddled and kissed. It was a blissful way to end the day.

That was the perfect word for the time I spent with Emma. "Blissful." It was easy to chalk that up to it being our honeymoon period, but that wasn't all of it. We were, for all intents and purposes, living together. Even in that small space-- no bigger than a studio apartment-- we never got on each other's nerves. On the weekends, we got out and spent our time either touring the city or hanging out with her friends.

We both had stressful days here and there, but that stress was always reduced when we were in each other's presence. There were worries about our relationship from time to time-- mostly about its rapidly approaching expiration date-- but we never fought, or even really argued; instead, we discussed our fears and comforted each other. I had never felt as content in my life as I was with Emma.

"I'm hungry! And it's not bad, like I said, just... wrong. The spices are wrong. The onions are underdone. The guacamole is--" A napkin landed on my head; I pulled it off to see Emma had leaned forward slightly with a smirk on her face. Her robe had fallen away just a bit, hinting at the lovely body underneath.

"Are you done? Because I don't know about you, but I'm not here for the cuisine. The food's just a way to keep my strength up."

"... You know, that's a good point."

Her eyes sparkled. "Mmm, smart man. Now eat up; I want to ask you something while you finish."

"A good something?"

Emma's smile was real, but also maybe a bit melancholy. "I think so. Or at least an interesting one." I took a bite and chewed as she spoke. "We've talked before about the things we have and haven't done in bed, the stuff we like, the stuff we want to do, all of that, yeah? Well, it's about that."

"Mmrf?"

She laughed, "Don't speak with your mouth full, you savage. It's about..." Emma looked down for a moment. "It's about what we haven't done. Either of us. I want to... when... if this is over, if that happens, I know that I'll always remember it. You. Us." She shook her head. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I could never forget being with you, Emma. But we still have another month to figure out--"

"I know, I know. We do. And..." Another dazzling smile. "I love you. I hope we can make it work. I know we said we weren't going to talk about this more until... well, until closer to the end, til you're supposed to leave, but I just want to say it now: I want this to be... more. More than just two months."

I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. "Thank God." She smiled again as I reached out to touch her face, my palm caressing her cheek. "Thank God, Emma. That's what I want, too. I just didn't... Like you said, we'd agreed to focus on now. But I want that, too."

Her hand grabbed mine as she pressed her face into it. "Good." A sillier, happier smile then, a broad grin like a kid that had gotten exactly the present she wanted on Christmas. "Yay!" Emma kissed my hand and took it from her cheek, holding it in both of hers. "But... Look, as much as we both want it, it may not happen.

"You have a life in Dallas-- even if you say it's not much of one, you do-- and I have one here, and there's all the logistics that might get in the way, too: jobs, immigration, families, all of that stuff. If... If we can't figure out a way past that, I still want to have something that's memorable for us. Something that we give each other. A first, for both of us."

I raised an eyebrow. "Like... what? A tattoo?"

"Hah! No, nothing that extreme. Although..." She looked up and to the side. "Maybe?" Back to my face, a playful smile on hers. "No, I suppose not. There's something I've wanted to try, but I never found the right guy to try it with."

Her finger traced patterns on my hand as she looked down at it. "Someone who's sweet and loving. Who can be tender or firm, depending on what I want from him. Who cares about what I want more than what he wants from me. Who loves me fearlessly." Her eyes drifted back up to mine. "Who fucks me senseless and makes love to me like I'm the only woman in the world."

Her smile was full of promise, but also tinged with what seemed like a little apprehension. "I've got a certain amount of experience. I don't regret that. You do, too, and I know it's part of what made you the man I love." She laughed, "The man that loves me so well, too. But I don't have a ton of firsts that I haven't... given to someone. There are some I wish I hadn't given at all. But for you? God, if I could, I'd relive them all with you. I'd go back and have you be every one of my firsts if I could."

My mouth hung open for a moment, then I said, "I... Thank you, Emma. I feel the same way. The time before I met you... it wasn't wasted; but I wish it could have been spent with you instead."

Her manner changed just a little, a tiny shift from the contemplative to the seductive. "So we don't have that many more firsts, you and I, of things we both want." She chuckled. "I mean, I'll try just about anything you want, even if it's not something I'm into. If we have enough time together, I'll be every fantasy you want me to be--"

"You already are."

The way she bit her lower lip made me want to launch myself across the table. "Mmm, you are too, cowboy. But I want to share one particular first with you tonight." Her hand brought mine back to her lips, and she gave it a long, slow kiss, before purring, "So what do you say, cowboy? Want to share a first with me?"

My mouth was dry. "Yes."

A tiny smirk. "Do you know which first I want with you? To give you?"

Oh my God. I nodded slightly. "I think so."

The smirk was joined by an evil little chuckle. "Oh, Jay. Where's that bravery I saw the day we met? Tell me what your guess is."

I swallowed. Who dares wins, right? "Your ass."

Emma's eyes went wide, and her hand flew to cover her mouth. "No!"

Fuckfuckfuck! "Oh god, I'm sorry, Em I thought--"

She laughed, "Not my 'ass,' you silly American. My 'arse.'"

"Woman, I swear." I shook my head, and the gaiety in her expression reached new heights at my exasperated relief.

"Aw, are you mad, handsome? Does that mean you don't want to eeep-!" I jumped up from the table and lunged around it towards her as she laughed and scooted away, the stubby wheels on the bottom of the chair squeaking out tiny complaints. But then one caught on the edge of a rug, and it started to tip backwards; I caught it just in time, pinning it to the floor.

Emma was trapped, still laughing, with a slight tinge of relief at narrowly missing a tumble. I kissed her, silencing the laugh and turning it into a sweet, happy sound for just a moment. Then, pulling away, my face only inches from hers, I growled. "Get your 'arse' over on that bed, woman."

My beautiful lover kissed me once more, briefly, as I drew back to clear the way for her. She stood and let the robe slide off her body, the bright white of it in stark contrast to the lovely dark skin its absence exposed. My breath caught for just a moment; every time I saw Emma's naked form, I was struck by just how breathtaking it was.

In one hand was a small tube; it must have been in the pocket of her robe. She handed it to me as she walked past. Her little glance over one shoulder as she climbed onto the bed was a tantalizing mix of seductive, loving, sweet, and playful. "Like this?" She reached back and pulled at one of her cheeks. "Is this where you wanted my arse, Jay?" Emma chuckled as I stared, nodding openmouthed. "Then get your ass over here."

My robe joined hers on the floor. I stepped behind her and stroked the soft skin of her back, over her ass, between her legs. The hard thickness of my erection rested between her cheeks, and Emma ground herself against it as two fingers slid into her hot, sopping pussy. There was a little gasp from her throat, and a groan from mine. "Are you sure this is what you want, Em? I love you, and--"

Her head hung low, hair brushing against the sheets as my fingers probed the wonderful tightness that I'd enjoyed so many times over the previous month. My beautiful lover interrupted my question, groaning, "Yes! God, yes. I love you, too, and I want it so-- oh god, lover-- so badly. I want-- fuck, fuck Jay-- it to be yours." She raised her head once more and looked over her shoulder, pleading with a ragged gasp, "Please!"

I knew what I'd read on the internet; it never hurt to be prepared, just in case. That's what every guide said, too, that the key to good anal sex is preparation. And I wanted this to be not just good, but great, for both of us.

Emma made a little frustrated noise as I withdrew my fingers, and her hips wiggled just a bit. I chuckled, "Greedy little thing," as I opened the tube and squirted a liberal amount of lube onto my fingers.

"For you? Always, bab-- ooooh!" My petite girlfriend gasped as a lube-slicked digit probed at her pucker for the first time. I paused for a moment, wanting to make sure it was a good gasp, but when Emma pushed backwards as if trying to draw my finger in, I was reassured. "Oooo, that's... god, Jay. It feels so-- mmmm--" I slowly slid my finger all the way in. "-- fffuuuuck, so weird." A little embarrassed glance over her shoulder. "But good, too. Oh!" She tensed slightly as I worked the finger in and out, and slightly side to side, the elastic ring giving only grudgingly as I worked at it. Only grudgingly, but giving all the same.

"I'm going to add another finger. Okay, love?"

Emma's smile was everything to me; a slight discomfort in it, perhaps, but so much trust and love. "I'm ready, baby." I withdrew the first finger, which made her frown slightly. But as the tip of a second pressed in, adjacent to the first, the look of pleasure there was evident. "Oh... oh, god, Jay. Oh, it's... nnnnf fuck so good."

I leaned over to kiss between her shoulder blades as my fingers delved deeper inside her, slowly stretching her tight little ass. "You're so beautiful, Emma. So good to me." She shivered; whether from my kiss or my fingers or my words, I don't know. But those small tremors of delight made me want her all the more.

The room was silent for a while, except for Emma's sighs and moans and gasps. She felt almost ready, but I wanted to be sure. "One more finger, love."

"Really? I already feel so full..."

I chuckled, "All the more reason for another finger. Think about my fingers, Em, and then think about my cock."

She shuddered and whispered, "I don't know if I can take it all, Jay."

Another kiss on her back as a third finger probed at her opening. "I think you can. But if you can't, we stop."

"Nnnn-- No, Jay, I want to share this with y-- oh, oh god." I was taking it as slowly as I could; like I said, I wanted this to be great for her.

"I do, too, Em. But I won't hurt you." A soft, slow series of kisses on her shoulder as my fingers fully penetrated her. "I never want to hurt you."

Emma was panting slightly. She was so small; I'm not built like a porn star, but I was still concerned that I might be more than she could handle, so I took as much time as I could preparing her with my fingers. My other hand caressed her back, then around to her side, finally playing with her perfect breasts and puffy nipples. She giggled a little at the sensation, and I felt her ass clamp down; the giggle turned to a groan. "I'm... oh, god, Jay. I think I'm as ready as I can get. Please? I need you."

There was a little frustrated whimper as I removed my fingers. Emma's eyes were eager-- wild, even-- as she watched me apply lube to my dick, running my hand slowly up and down the shaft and over the head. Her grin was so brilliant it could have outshone a thousand suns. I stepped forward a little, and the tip of my cock nudged between her cheeks. "Are you ready?"

In answer, Emma shifted backwards. Instead of me pushing against her, she was pushing against me. We both groaned at the sensation; she began to open to me, millimeter by millimeter, the earlier preparation having helped ready my beloved's body. But even that could only do so much; Emma gave out a tiny, "Nng!" and paused. I was about to reassure her, to tell her we could stop, when she suddenly pressed backwards once more. My glans was firmly ensconced in her ass, and my beautiful lover's cry at the welcomed intrusion was part triumph, part pain.

I stood stock still; that was, I assure you, not at all easy. The tightness and heat were incredible. "Em--"

One hand reached back and touched my hip as Emma panted, "Wait. Quiet. Just need to-- nnf-- to adjust." Her breathing over the next minute-- and god, it felt like an hour-- became smoother and steadier. I felt her nails dig slightly into my leg as she experimentally pushed back again, then another pause. Emma shot me a mildly pained but thoroughly pleased smile over one shoulder. "Fuck, cowboy. It feels-- God, it's incredible. So different."

"Ah-- S- Same. I--" My hips twitched, and she gasped. "Sorry, I--"

Biting her lower lip once more, Emma grunted, "I'm not." The hand gripping my leg pulled at me gently. "More, please. Slowly."

We spent the next little while acclimating Emma very carefully to my girth; sometimes I would push forwards, and sometimes she would push back. The room was almost silent other than our breathing and quiet moans of pleasure and, occasionally, discomfort. When the latter manifested, we would stop; I let my love's hand and her voice guide our pace. But, eventually, I said, "That's all of it, beautiful."

Her body relaxed, the tension in it finally melting away. There was no more for her to take, no more to fear or endure; there had been some discomfort, but no real pain. Emma's hand stroked my thigh, and she whispered, "Thank you."

It seemed such a strange thing to say. This gorgeous, amazing, unbelievably sexy woman was thanking me when she had fulfilled one of my fantasies. But I understood what she meant. I had fulfilled one of hers, too, and I had thus far been almost everything she had asked: tender, loving, gentle, patient.

But then Emma's body moved forward and back just a little, sliding my shaft into and out of her. Then her nails gripped my hip once more. Then she grinned devilishly back at me, all discomfort gone, and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Fuck your girlfriend's ass, cowboy."

How could I deny the love of my life?

I was slow and gentle at first; I never wanted to hurt this woman that I adored so much. That tenderness didn't last long, though. Emma became more vocal as I moved in her, as my cock sawed back and forth into her, as her ass clenched around it, as she whined at each withdrawal and moaned gutturally every I bottomed out in her. "It's-- ah! Jay, it's soo-- Oh, fuck! More! Please baby, faster!"

We found our pace and intensity; not too fast or slow, not too gentle and certainly not too rough. Not this time, anyways. This particular experience was a first for both of us, but I knew that Emma liked the full spectrum of carnal experiences; we were well-suited to each other in that way, as in so many others. When my petite lover was better adjusted to this, I'm sure she'd want to try both extremes.

This time, though, it was all I could do to hold back. I was too excited; Emma came once around me, calling out my name, and that almost did me in. But the second time, when she chanted out, "I love you, yours Jay, I'm yours, love you, feels so good, please baby, please, I want to feel it, cum, please, Jay, please AH YES--!" I buried myself fully in her and let go. I had never seen stars when I came before, but I did then.

I don't remember collapsing on top of Emma or pulling her to one side, spooned against that lovely body while still buried inside her. I just remember the gentle touch of her hand as she reached back and stroked my hair, panting out, "Yours, baby. Yours, Jay. Love you. Love you. Love you, always love you." I buried my face in her neck and kissed her; I was hers, too. I'd always be hers. I'd find a way to make that happen, even if I had to smuggle myself back into the country in a cargo container.

We showered together afterwards-- our second of the evening-- and I took the time to clean and pamper her. She was uncomfortable at first, but I was careful in my ministrations, and Emma luxuriated in the aftercare. We didn't make love again, either in the shower or afterwards in the bed; it felt almost profane to try to follow that intense shared experience with another so quickly. Instead, we talked and laughed and cuddled, until she fell asleep in my arms.

I laid awake for a while, thinking of all that had transpired. Not just what had happened in the bed, our shared first, but everything that had occurred since I'd met her. And I realized, looking down at that peaceful, satisfied smile, exactly what she meant to me. What I wanted her to be, and what I would be for her, if she'd let me. Gazing at my gently snoring love, I whispered, "I'm going to marry you one day, Emma. I'd do it tonight if I could." And then I joined her in slumber, leaving the details for tomorrow.

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I'll try to not take as long next time, but I can't make any promises. However! We are approaching the end of the story; perhaps one or two more chapters. Will Jay be able to make good on his promise? Will our two lovers end up together forever? Am I so much of a dick that I would break up these two sweet kids for cheap drama?

... No, no I'm not. But the journey's the important part, right? Tune in next time, fair readers!