By my own estimation, I was a bit of a slut in college. I dated a few women seriously but I wasn't averse to waking up next to a naked stranger and asking her name. Some hot times were had, you can be sure of that. Still, I don't think the collected stories of all my other college sex partners can compare to the tales I could tell about one woman - Gina. I dated Gina for almost two years, easily the longest relationship I had in my five years of school.
Gina was two years my junior and she was a lovely sight. She was gorgeous; simply stunning. She had a huge smile, her lips seeming insufficient to hold back the big gleaming white teeth behind them. Her hair was medium-long and dark, thick and wavy, soft and smelling of tea roses. She had full young breasts that hung heavy in her blouse, shapely legs she liked to show off, and a wonderful hourglass figure. Her hips were a touch wide but that just made her deliciously voluptuous. It made her luxurious. She was sexy in an intriguing mix of womanly body and girlish charm.
She was a lusty wench, too. Her enthusiasm was nearly boundless and almost anything suggested to her would eventually come to pass. She would act horrified at first but given some time to think about it she invariably became more and more excited by the idea. Her imagination, however, was somewhat stunted and she didn't know how to release her fantasies. Well, at first. She learned.
After a while our sexual relationship became a little stale as we reached a point were we were too afraid or too insecure to push each other or really ask for what we wanted. We decided to try something we called being "in charge," which was a date where one of us was to follow the other's commands without fear of hurt feelings or unfulfilled desires. I don't think it was really a dominance and submission thing, at least not at first, just a more one-way affair where one person got to be the center of attention for the night.
I went first to get the ball rolling, and that night was fairly successful. We didn't do anything shocking or revolutionary, but it gave us both a certain comfort level to be a little bit selfish and really express what we wanted. It gave Gina all kinds of ideas for her first night to be in charge. We set that up for a Wednesday night since I had no classes on Thursdays and her first class didn't start until 2:30. I lived alone in a rare single room in the dormitories so it was my place or no place. She came over after dinner.
She knocked on the door near sundown and I answered it quickly. Gina's wide, glorious smile engulfed me and lit a fire in my heart just like it always did. She was dolled up in a short skirt that showed off her legs and a red blouse that hung open a little more than necessary to display her generous cleavage. She knew she was devastatingly pretty and she wanted to hammer it into my skull that I was one lucky bastard. I certainly knew it.
She sauntered straight into the room and took a seat in the dorm-provided "comfy chair," crossing her legs and assuming a commanding air. Without a word spoken I could tell she was really into the spirit of the evening. I was at least as excited as she was. I closed and locked the door and approached my queen.
"How may I serve you tonight?"
"I have a list!!" she proclaimed, actually pulling a small stack of note cards from her bra and making a bit of a show out of it. My adrenaline surged a bit as her fingers dipped in there, but I had to be patient.
"May I see it?" I asked. Her mischievous grin answered me before her voice did.
"Oh, no. That would be telling."
"I see. Then I reiterate; how may I serve you tonight?"
She reached into her purse and pulled out a CD. "Start it on track 4."
"As you wish." I popped the CD in and set it up, then punched play. In a moment a slow, sexy blues groove filled the room.
"Now I'll give you your first command," she said, holding out one of the note cards with an impish grin on her pretty face. I took the card and read it.
strip teasE
Aw, fuck! I think I would have preferred it if she had whipped out a dildo and wanted to stick it in my ass. Look, I think I'm a bit of a big shot in the sack, and generally in life I'm a confident man, but I hate dancing. I talk a good game and I think I'm a fairly smooth operator, but I'm clumsy as fuck and I can't dance to save my life. I fear nothing, but in that moment I was flat out terrified. I almost didn't notice the odd capitalization on the 3x5 card.
"Uh...seriously?"
"Dance for me, bitch!"
I'll try not to horrify you with the precise details as I'm sure I failed miserably at most of the things I tried. You go ahead and imagine a Chippendale's dancer doing his best as you read this and I'll try to keep it brief.
I reminded myself that my girl was worth it, closed my eyes and started moving my hips to the music. I turned around and wiggled my butt in her face a little and she rewarded me with a swat on the ass. A bit more swaying to the sultry blues beat and I started taking off my shirt. Thank God I was in shape back then so my torso and chest were nice to look at. My shirt came off and I tossed it to her. She twirled it over her head and cheered like a drunk trucker in a titty bar.
I think I managed to make the belt somewhat sexy at least. I popped the buckle and pulled out a few inches of leather, then held it in my hand as if it were my dick. I moved in close to her and offered her the belt, which she took. She gave it a tug and I held tight, acting as if she were pulling on my cock and making an appropriate face of feigned ecstasy. She rightfully laughed at that but I did my best to push on through this heinous act. I moved away and let go of the belt and she pulled it through the belt loops and off.
I popped the button and tried to gyrate suggestively as I slowly pulled the zipper down, trying to make it as loud as possible. The wide, amused smile that had not left her face since this whole debacle started finally showed the slightest wisp of lust as my pants opened. She reached out but I moved back out of range. I turned around and swayed my hips in front of her as I pushed the blue jeans off my ass so she could see my boxers. Sorry -- tiny G-string, for those of you still imagining the Chippendales dancer.
