My girlfriend is like a box of chocolates.
I never know what I am going to get.
I had begun to wonder whether she was bi-polar. This made things even more confusing, because it was not in a bad way. Its not like the "other" personality was exceedingly crazy... just maybe a little bit. Despite my instincts to run for the hills, there were just too many things which made me stay. Although pensively.
My name is Clint. I am not nearly as studly or cool as the famous actor my mom was apparently infatuated with when she named me, but I am no slouch either. I am just over six feet, I work out so my musculature is well defined, just not buff. I evidently do not look like I got hit in the face with a shovel, as I get hit on fairly frequently. Considering the nature of the story, I suppose it is pertinent to describe my "equipment." I've never measured it (is that strange?) However I am happy with it. Nobody has ever compared me to John Holmes, but neither have they called me pee wee. Past partners have described me as "comfortable." Not too big, definitely not too small. Several have commented on the large flared head... which I had assumed was normal until I began to wonder if it had an appreciation club all its own.
My girlfriend Suzanne is a mousy little natural ginger... her red hair draws immediate attention. Then her bright green eyes and freckled nose and face enrapt me. She is petite, which makes her 34-B's appear larger than they are. They too are spattered with freckles, which turns me on to no end. She is smart as a whip, and loves sex. Yes, I have hit the jackpot.
We met at the library. A meet cute thing where she was trying to climb up a shelf to reach a book and I grabbed it for her. It happened to be the same book I was looking for. I did the chivalrous thing and handed it to her, but that started a conversation about like interests. Which led to our first date.
We went on multiple dates and really clicked before sex even entered into the picture.
But when it did... wow.
We had been out to dinner and a movie, then ended up back at my house, a remodeled fifties era home in a quiet neighborhood.
We began kissing in the living room, which we had done several times before. As I held her close, Suzanne looked dreamily into my eyes and whispered, "It's time, Clint... please make love to me... I need you..."
My heart soared, my manhood, already erect, throbbed.
I'm sure I could have initiated things a couple of dates prior. I had just never developed the ability to read subtle signals that a woman was receptive to my advances. I am not wimpy (I can more than hold my own in a fight) but I am also not aggressive.
I was more than happy to let my lover take the lead. Although I knew that as a result, I had missed out on countless opportunities with women who did not want to appear slutty for doing so. Which never would have crossed my mind. And it certainly did not now.
I fumbled with her blouse, and she giggled as she took over and removed it for me, tossing it onto the coffee table. She did the same with her bra, letting her beautiful breasts jiggle free before me for the first time.
Those freckles, their firmness, her small but absolutely erect nipples awed me. They caused me to overcome my hesitation. I dropped to my knees to put me on their level, kissing, suckling, and caressing them.
She sighed, giddy at my overwhelming need for her. "Oh, honey, carry me to your bed, please..."
I might've had to be told, but I did not have to be told twice. I picked her up in my arms and carried her to my bedroom, laying her gently onto the edge of the bed. She was wriggling her jeans down over her well shaped hips... this time I helped her without hesitation. I grasped her light red panties, which accentuated her complexion, and slid them down and off.
She had small, taunt genitalia... her nether lips were shaved bare, and already glistened with her arousal. She had left a well trimmed muff of auburn pubic hair above, seemingly to compliment her freckles and show the carpet matched the drapes.
I had a tendency to require leading, but this should not be mistaken for not knowing what to do. The vision before me, her scent, her passion, drove me.
I dropped to my knees by the bedside, lowering my mouth to her sex. She tasted as good as she looked. She felt even better against my lips.
I grasped her butt in my big hands and suckled her labia, eliciting a moan of pleasure. I traced them with my tongue, outlining them. Then I drove my tongue into her like a small cock, trying to lick upwards towards her G-spot. I knew I could not reach it, but the sensation had the desired effect.
"Ohgawd... Clint..."
Next, I began bathing the hood above and her clitoris with my softened tongue. She groaned and repeated my name again. When she impulsively began pushing herself back against my mouth, building towards her release, I acted to send her crashing over the cliff.
I covered her entire mons with my mouth, pointed my tongue, and began lashing her bud up, down, back and forth. No, I did not spell out the alphabet... I love eating pussy... and have lots of practice. I read her reactions, her motions and vocalizations and manipulated her in response until she levitating her hips off of the bed and screaming in orgasmic ecstasy.
"Fuuuuuuck! Oh, Clint, YES!!!"
Ladies always cum first. ALWAYS. It was the one thing I insisted upon.
I would normally let my lover relax, then begin to build them back up to another series of orgasms... and again and again. And when we grew accustomed to each other, I would return to this habit... she would come to expect it.
But this, our first time, she was insistent. Her hands were pulling me upwards, urging me to climb on top of her.
I had never undressed. I had to stand and quickly pull my clothes off as she writhed on the bed. "Please, please, I need you in me..."
I lay over her and placed my huge cock head at her entrance. I slowly began moving it up and down, being gentle. She was having none of it. She wrapped her legs around me and forced my shaft into her in one fluid motion.
"Ungh... wonderful! Take me... TAKE ME!"
Long, smooth, rhythmic strokes, then relentless pounding... lifting her legs up and back, positioning her so my flared head drove repeatedly across her G-spot and drew her clit in then out.
She was thrashing about beneath me uncontrollably, trembling and screaming as she experienced multiple orgasms. She clutched the sheets tightly, then my biceps.
I may not be a superman, but I do not lack for stamina. When she came down from her high, I slowed my pace and lay closer to her. I kissed her breasts, the nape of her neck, her mouth.
Soon she was ready again and began pistoning against me again. I held my position, holding our kiss while I began pounding into her... hard. This time I planned to go over the top with her, and she sensed it.
Her fingernails dug into my back as she came... and that is all it took for me. I groaned and roared as my own orgasm joined with hers.
In the coming months our relationship grew closer and closer. We spent a great deal of time together, but neither was ready to move in together yet. Suzanne loved to cuddle on the couch watching movies or take walks in the park. She would cook for me... very nice meals.
Our love making became even more passionate. She encouraged me to be more comfortable doing what I wanted, though I did not have aggression in me. As I said before, she became accustomed to my love of cunnilingus... and would quite happily let me bring her to several rounds of orgasms before I got mine.
One night, after our love making, we were cuddled in bed. She traced her fingers lightly over my pecs. Then she asked the question which all couples come to eventually, when they feel comfortable enough to do so.
"Sweetheart... tell me your fantasies... do you have any kinks you would like to fulfill?"
We went back and forth as I hesitated and she reassured me that she would not think I was a dirty little pervert, would not think less of me... and definitely would not leave me and my magic tongue.
So finally it spilled out. We talked for hours. I told her about my need for being non-dominant. I had to explain, in my mind at least, the difference between non-dominant and submissive. Yes, I wanted to submit to her authority, but I did not have fantasies about being a panty wearing, simpering wimp. I just had fantasies about her being in charge... taking what she wanted with little to no concern for my needs.
I explained my desire for tease and denial... orgasm denial, perhaps even long-term. Which brought us to chastity. After she queried me about why a person would want that, and I explained the continuously building sexual tension, she seemed to understand. She said she might even want to experience that at some level. I showed her high grade chastity devices on the internet.
"Do you want to be beaten? Tied up?"
I explained that I did not envision her leather clad as a dominatrix. But that if SHE wanted to spank me or restrain me, that would arouse me. I tried to convey that HER being in charge and doing what she wanted was the turn on for me. After we discussed this for awhile, she said she understood, and we came up with a safe word. Everything was on the table otherwise. Well, nothing crazy, of course. But we seemed to be on the same page.
What surprised me; what elated me, really, was there did NOT seem to be any negative feelings from Suzanne. No judgements. She still seemed to be as enamored with me as she had before finding out about my proclivities. She said she would have to do some research on her own, to keep me guessing and make sure I did not "top from the bottom." I had taught her the expression and expressed that I absolutely did not want to do that. It would kind of defeat the purpose of empowering her, right?
After that, things seemed to return to normal for a couple of months. No more discussion of our fetishes. I did not want to bring it up, because I did not want to seem pushy, or to top from the bottom.
And then things started to get weird. Not bad weird, but definitely bi-polar-ish.
We would sometimes see each other during the week, lunch, maybe an occasional dinner. But both of our work lives were very busy, with overtime on occasion. So, time was an issue.
So we mostly spent time together on the weekends. As we grew closer, with rare exception, Friday evening found us meeting at my house, where we would "play house" until Sunday evening. Then she would go home to her house to prepare for the work week.
I had yet to be invited to her place. I did not think much of it, as she had told me she lived with family. We liked to run around naked if not going out. So the idea of not being able to do so, or being caught bare by her mother, prevented me from worrying too much about the one-sided dynamic.
I found out Suzanne gave as good as she got in bed. She would give me massages, caresses, she would ride me lovingly, and she gave fantastic head.
We were great together, in bed and out. I had never forgotten my fantasies, but I figured it was just pillow talk, and I was okay with that.
On those Fridays, we had an agreement whoever made it to the house first would start dinner. On this particular Friday I made it home first. So I went to the bedroom and stripped bare, then back to the kitchen. I know what you're thinking... I probably always made it home first. I had been with girls like that, who used me. But no, not this time. Suzanne probably beat me home more often than not, and was a great cook.
