A Matter of Trust

"What do you mean you're defective?" Ryan asked.

We were walking, enjoying the downtown buzz of activity with the city lights enveloping us as people laughed and went about their plans. We were discussing sex, a subject for which I should have had a de facto degree. I had just finished telling him something that I was sure he already knew, but apparently didn't.

I looked up at him. "We've talked about this before, haven't we? I've told you this before, right?"

"No, you haven't told me before. What does that even mean?" He looked back at me, a curious look on his face. Sighing with resignation, I answered him.

"It means I've never... had an orgasm with a man." I watched as his eyes widened with surprise as the words registered, and I could feel my face flush with unease. At 32 years old, the idea that I would never be able to be that responsive with a man was starting to scare me. Whenever I thought about it I could feel small panic waves attack my insides. It wasn't that I didn't know how to have an orgasm, I had done it to myself plenty, I just couldn't seem to let myself reach that point with a man and so I had given up trying, resigning myself to defective status.

"Never?" he asked incredulously.

I could tell from the question that he was still trying to fit that reality with the picture of horniness and mischief I usually presented. When it came to sex I was insatiable, and he knew it. I talked about the subject almost non-stop, and he had heard the stories of nearly all of my sexual escapades, so this was probably the last thing he expected to hear.

"Not with a man." I emphasized that sentence, not wanting him to elevate me to freak status. It was bad enough that I felt defective in bed.

"Never? No hand, no mouth... nothing?"

I sighed. "Never. No orgasm by hand or by mouth... nothing." I looked at him through lowered lashes, and my voice lowered to almost a whisper. "Surprised, huh?"

He paused in his stride, glanced away, and then looked back at me. "Yes. But more frustrated than anything."

"Why frustrated?"

"Because I want to help." He let out a growl, and looked at me once again. "I know I can help."

I laughed, and shook my head. I'd been having sex nearly every day for 16 years and my sexual experience was not something to be dismissed or even laughed at. "I love your self-confidence, but... I don't know... It's complicated."

"Is it inexperience on the part of your partners, or something more?"

"Something more," I responded, cautiously, looking at him. He was taller than I was by about four inches with a medium build. With dark blonde hair and a square jaw, he managed to look both boyish and strong. We'd been good friends for years, and there were many nights that I envisioned myself wrapped in his arms, safe. Nevertheless, there were still certain secrets that I kept to myself. Secrets no one knew. Still, if ever there was a time to confide in him, maybe it was now. Taking a deep breath, I spoke again. "Something more. I have trouble trusting my partners. I can never seem to relax enough to let them have total control."

He looked directly into my eyes, searching for answers. "What happened, Bren?"

I told him about the attempted rape and about the partner I had at 20 who liked to try to strangle me after he orgasmed. The events long in the past no longer hurt as much as they had years before, but telling him still made me feel like a load had been lifted from my shoulders. "I am always turned on when we start. I'll get to the point where I think it's going to happen, but then I freeze. It sucks!" I exclaimed emphatically attempting to lighten the mood. He laughed.

I watched his face in reaction, enjoying the display. He grinned, grit his teeth, then sighed, grinned again, then worried his lip. It was almost as though he were having a conversation with himself that he wasn't sure he was winning. I turned my head away so that I could laugh silently, and then looked back. This time, he looked determined, and my heart thudded in my chest. It was a look I has seen before when he had an issue to tackle. It was a look of single-minded resolve-- and this time, I thought, the thing he wanted to tackle was me.

I swallowed hard. Although Ryan had been a good friend for a long time, I had never let myself cross that barrier between friendship and a sexual relationship, too afraid that I'd lose him. Time however was not moving slowly, nor did I believe that I had forever. A belief possessed all too often by the young. And I wanted to cum with a man. Damn, I wanted it so badly! My face flushed and I took a deep breath. My desire, hopefulness, and attraction to him were enough for me. "So, you really want to try?"

"Yes. I do. But, you know that once we cross this line we can never go back? Things between us will never be the same."

"I know. Is that a bad thing? You're one of my best friends. Maybe taking this step... maybe it was meant to be." At that moment, in that time, I could see myself with him forever. However, I was worried that he wouldn't feel the same. I listened as a sigh escaped and watched as he considered his response.

"No. It wouldn't be a bad thing. I've always been curious what it would be like between us. If we're going to find out, I can't think of a better way to go about it." He grinned and I felt my mouth curve up in response. Yeah, if we were going to give a relationship a go, what better way than working toward the single-minded goal of making me cum. I could live with that.

He walked to a secluded spot not far away -a very narrow ally between two buildings that was blanketed in darkness. The shadow cast his face in a steel gray, highlighting the determined set of his jaw. My body started humming with expectation as I followed. I was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, so giving him access to my body was easy, but I had no idea what he was intending to do.

"So big buddy, what do you have planned?" I smiled flirtatiously and watched as he inhaled deeply- as if he were looking to gain courage by sucking large quantities of oxygen. "Do I need to strip, or what?"

He took another deep breath and looked at me. "No, I'm just going to..."

I watched as he descended closer to my body, not aiming to kiss me apparently, as the top of his head was getting more and more visible, but... Cool bare hands hit the soft skin at my waist and I felt the cool breeze drift under my shirt as it was slowly lifted up to reveal my breasts. My nipples hardened into pellet points from the shock of the chilly air. I gasped as his mouth quickly snatched one up and then I felt a loud groan escape from my throat. His mouth was everywhere. It moved non-stop, and I could feel my innermost self swell and gather liquid. He had a hurricane tongue that wrapped itself around me repeatedly, and I felt dizzy as the blood rushed from my head to the lower extremities of my body. I kept thinking that if this were how my body was going to respond to him sucking on my breast, then we definitely might get somewhere.

I opened my legs to let his hands in and felt one descend to my thigh as he shifted position, his mouth moving to my other breast. I closed my eyes and tried to control the urge of my body to collapse against him, forcing his mouth to stay locked in place. I wanted his mouth to keep its pace, fastened at my nipple. My fingers threaded through his soft hair to hold him there.

The hand that was resting on my thigh moved up slowly, his thick fingers crawling their way up and inside of the leg opening at my shorts. I felt his thumb move between the juncture at my thigh and felt it maneuver its way under the fabric of my thong. It moved steadily over to one of my pussy lips and then followed the curve downward before one of his fingers joined it. I opened my legs further, but the movement nearly sent me toppling. I growled in frustration.

I shivered as his mouth left my breasts and traveled upward, his lips finally coming to rest on mine for a slow, lingering kiss. His mouth was wet, soft, and tasted of the spearmint gum he had been chewing. He growled against my mouth, and the vibration echoed through my body in a wave of yearning. I could barely stifle a large feeling of disappointment as he moved away.

"Sorry..." I muttered. "I guess this isn't going to work." My chest constricted with a surge of self-pity and anger. I had gotten my hopes up for overcoming my defective status, and here I was again, frustrated even more. I heard him chuckle and felt my face flush with another wave of embarrassment.

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "We're not done yet, dear. However, we do need to find somewhere else to go. I need better access to your... access." He laughed, and I looked at him, a helpless smile sweeping across my mouth.

Wiggling my eyebrows at him, I simply said two words. "My place."

Ten minutes later, we were back at my apartment, giggling like a couple of kids. We bounced up the walkway holding hands and through the front door into the living room. My body purred with excitement, my juices dripped down through the folds of my pussy, and my heart raced.

I took his hand, still held in mine, and tugged him gently toward the bedroom. We walked slowly around the furniture to the hallway, growing quieter and quieter with each step. My ears were homed into his heavy breathing, and I wondered if he was still as confident as he had seemed earlier that evening.

We reached the bedroom, our eyes taking a moment to readjust to the darkness of the evening, and we both looked at the king size bed before turning to one another. I looked around the room once, my mind racing. I didn't have a condom. Unless he did, sex was out of the question, and if we weren't going to have sex... I paused, walking away from him to the head of the bed disappointment making my stomachache.

"I forgot that I don't have any condoms." I nibbled my lips somewhat guiltily and heard him move to stand behind me. I could feel a breeze against my neck as it wafted through my hair. His hands rested on my shoulders.

"I don't either. I wasn't exactly expecting this to happen... at least not without a lot of convincing." He sighed, the air tickling through my hair. "I never wanted to hope. You never seemed interested. But since we have this moment, I still want to try. Well, I still have fingers."

My heart skipped a beat and my breathing tripped over itself. I knew what he had meant, and I would digest it later, but right now, a greater hope and need were taking over. He still. Had. Fingers.

I placed one knee on the bed before realizing that I still had my clothing on. Shaking my head, I put my leg down and stripped away my shorts, the nylon fabric swishing its way to the ground, and crawled onto the bed.

He stood there at the side, fully clothed. He didn't attempt to kiss me, didn't attempt to feel my breasts or touch my body, he just stood there. His gaze resting fully on the V of my legs, where the brown hair was visible above my clit, and where shaved lips dipped down and disappeared between my legs. I watched as one arm slowly came up from his side and stretched out to grasp one of my thighs, one hand resting under my knee. He bent my right leg so that it jutted out and away from the other, my foot resting across from my left leg at knee level. I laughed at this. "You have to adjust them just so, huh?"

His hair flopped against the top of his forehead as he smiled and nodded. "Uh-huh."

His hand moved up the inside of my right leg, brushed close to my pussy, but it didn't stop there. It didn't even touch there, and I let out a breath of air that I had been holding. Again, his hands came to rest on my leg, this time my left and he lifted it and moved it over a little further.

I felt the lips of my pussy part, and knew that I was now fully open to him. A ripple of fear at being so exposed tickled down my spine and I wondered for a moment what he was thinking. But the cool air played with my swollen clit and mixed with the moisture leaking from my opening and my heart hammered in my chest. My fear quickly replaced by the heat of excitement that made its way up my body as I felt his fingers once again resting on the insides of my thighs.

He leaned over slightly, and I felt one thick finger rub along my cunt. He exhaled sharply and groaned out "Oh my god, you're so wet." I watched his face as his eyes closed for a brief period and he stayed for a second completely immobile. I felt a second finger at my opening, easing its way in between my pussy lips seeking that sweet spot that would allow him access to my inner core. Those two fingers stretched me apart very slightly and I felt one of his fingers penetrate me easing up inside. I was still watching his face, and as his finger eased up inside of my hole, I watched his jaw tense and his body tremble. The evidence of his arousal was becoming apparent through his pants as they bulged and became taut.

I licked my lips, trying to wet them, and closed my eyes. His finger filled me completely and I marveled at the feel of its thickness and length. I waited, expecting that moment when I would freeze. The moment when fear would settle in and I would need to take control of the situation. Take control of him so that I knew what would happen. Then, I was no longer thinking. His finger found my G-spot and began to move in a rhythmic back and forth motion. I became all about one thing- being overwhelmed by the yet unattainable force of an orgasm.

His fingers continued their movement, stroking me closer and closer, higher and higher. I grew dizzy and hot. My hips bucked against his hand as it moved tirelessly inside of me, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep any sound from escaping through the open window of my room. My breathing was fast and uneven, and my legs were shaking. Through all this, he continued. His fingers stroked the sensitive spot inside of me over and over until I was quivering. I was nearing the edge. I could feel it. A few more strokes would send me over and I wanted to go over so desperately. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, and my toes stretched out tense, waiting. My hips bucked against his hand, and I could no longer hold back the noises escaping from my throat. A few more seconds, just a few more seconds my body cried.

Suddenly, without warning, he stopped. My eyes shot open to look at him, my body quaking in an aftermath of shock at his withdrawal. I looked at him, my face both accusing and questioning, and I growled in the back of my throat before letting out a whimper.

The wail of the siren filtered through the open window and I realized at once that his pager had gone off. I looked at his face, seeing the raw emotions of regret and desire. His voice thick with longing, he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I have to..."

"I know. It's okay. Go."

I watched as he hesitated for a moment and then turned quickly, racing from the room. Somewhere in the City, there was a fire.

I lay on the bed thinking to myself that I was going to die from disappointment, yet, unwilling to finish it myself. Slamming my fist down on the bed, I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow, using it to muffle a pitiful wail, as I heard his car start outside and speed away.

The next day, my spirits somewhat restored, I made a decision to try again. He wasn't going to get off the hook that easily, and if he believed he could help- and still wanted too- then I was willing to let him keep trying. I stopped at the store and picked up a 3-pack of condoms, make that two, and then went to meet him at his office. After a brief discussion, we agreed to try again that coming Saturday. He was not on call for the Fire Department, which meant, to my delight, no interruptions.

Those six days flew by in a frenzy of anticipation and daydreaming. At work, I was unable to concentrate, and at home, I was a walking hormone. My fingers massaged my clit on more than one occasion while thinking about the weekend ahead. When it finally arrived, I was more than ready: I was ablaze. But even though I was ready, I still carried a certain amount of skepticism. I still expected that moment to occur where I would freeze, where, in the pit of my stomach, I would remember all those times where it wasn't about pleasure, but about control. But I did trust him. More than I remembered trusting any other man. So my hopefulness kept making me ask-- Could he be the man to, finally, make me cum?

He picked me up at 8pm, and we started driving to a secluded section of the river. It was one of those perfect nights when the earth remembered the heat of the day, but allowed a breeze to sweep through cooling the air for the moon. I wore a sweatshirt and skirt, with no bra and no panties. My baby smooth, freshly shaved pussy was left open and exposed to the night air. As we drove down the dark streets, I revealed the latest to him and spread my legs for his inspection.

I watched as he reached one arm over and slipped it up and under my skirt to caress the folds of my pussy. His fingers gentle and soft, he stroked with feather light movements. I laid my head back against the head rest and enjoyed the feeling of his hands playing with me, my heart racing faster with each intimate stroke. His fingers growing more and slicker with each mile.

With a sudden jerk of the wheel, he pulled off onto a gravel road that led down to the river and parked in a secluded grassy field. I smiled at the idea that he was feeling as impatient as I did. A soft click of the key in the ignition and the car went silent, the loud beat of my heart the only sound. In the space of a second we were frantically kissing and grabbing for clothes. My fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and they came free one at a time, opening to expose his smooth, muscular chest. My nails scratched along the surface of his skin, clawing and grasping for his body, wanting to draw him nearer. I felt my sweatshirt being pulled over my head exposing my breasts to his view.

His head dipped down to take one in his mouth to suck. Immediately my nipple rose into a strong point as his mouth worked it over and over. I arched into him, my hands reaching for his head to hold him there. Oh, that mouth! I loved that mouth, how his tongue moved again and again. Distracted as I was, I barely noticed that his finger had dipped down and was now at the entrance of my cunt. However, as he entered me, one finger wiggling its way inside, I became aware of that finger and I went crazy with need. Little noises escaped from the back of my throat and I pleaded with him. "Fuck me. Please. I want to feel you. Need to feel you."

Through half lidded eyes, I watched as his car door opened and he walked around to my side, opening the door and pulling me out. I felt his hands slip under my skirt and the fabric slide up my hips, exposing my bare pussy to his gaze. I reached out to unsnap his pants noticing the bulge as I worked the zipper down. I slid them to the ground, dropping them around his ankles. His cock was rock hard and sprang forward as though it had its own sense of direction and knew exactly where it wanted to go. He was thick and curved up, and I groaned at how incredible it looked, anticipating the feel of him inside of me.

My hand reached out and encircled him, and I marveled at how soft his skin was, and yet how he felt like steel beneath my palm. I watched as his teeth savagely tore open the packaged condom, and I took it from him to cover his cock with it. With a strong movement, he lifted me up to sit on the hood of the car and slid into me. Gasping at the feeling of him stretching me, I groaned as he started rocking back and forth. The movement of his upper abdomen was hitting my engorged clit, teasing it, and heat was racing through my body, my temperature skyrocketing. I could feel the juice of my pussy dripping its way down between my legs as the shape of his cock worked my G-spot, hitting it repeatedly.