Chapter 24: 'Getting To Know' Gary
I had already been on a couple of 'dates' with Gary and, while nothing had actually happened, it was plainly obvious that he was definitely interested. The truth was, I was too. the fact that we hadn't done anything actually added to the attraction. It was nice, for once, to meet a guy who was actually interested in me as a person and was happy to take things slowly, allowing us to find things out about each other, rather than just rushing to get me into bed. Now, don't get me wrong, anyone who has read any of my previously writings will know that I'm certainly not averse to moving things on to the sex at the earliest possible opportunity but, for once, in Gary's case, I was happy that things were turning out a little bit differently.
Gary is 20 and in his second year of an engineering degree (having taken a year out between school and university to go travelling around Europe). He is about 6'3", so towers over my 5'5", well built (in a lean, rangy sort of way), has short, dark brown hair, brown eyes, has a quiet, understated, dry sense of humour and a great smile. He's also 'generously proportioned', but I'm getting ahead of myself there. Outwardly, he's quite shy, which I find kind of sweet, but, as I was to find out, that shyness in no way translates to any kind of inhibition in the bedroom.
All in all, things had been going pretty well; the only real problem on the horizon was, well, to put it bluntly, me. I'm not particularly good at relationships; my track record to date having been pretty atrocious. In short, faithfulness and fidelity have never been my strong points. Now, I could try and excuse that by pointing out that before George, my early relationships had never been much more than hormone fuelled experiments, as much on the part of my partners as of my own. It doesn't really change the fact that I ended up cheating on almost every one of them (whether or not I was being cheated on too is besides the point). With George, well apart from right at the end, it was him that was doing the cheating. He was simply one, albeit a very major one, of a string of partners I'd had while I had, to all intents and purposes, been single. The truth was, I hadn't had an actual boyfriend since shortly after George had began his affair with me and that was slightly over two years ago. The reason was, quite simply, that while I had quite clearly had a lot of fun both inside and outside of my relationships, I'd treated my actual boyfriends pretty deplorably.
Now, here was Gary, whom I really liked and, what's more, didn't want to hurt. And, going by the fact that I had still managed to have my 'finalé' with George, while, still at a tentatively early stage with Gary ('whom I really liked and, what's more, didn't want to hurt'), things didn't really bode to well for the future.
To say I was just a wee bit confused at this point would, quite clearly, be a gross understatement.
Anyway, on this particular evening, we were meant to be going to the cinema but, as it happened, neither of us were in the mood. In Gary's case, he'd had a bit of a bad day and, in mine, well, partially it was my apprehension that I'd possibly buggered things up and, partially, it was because my shoulder (the one that I'd dislocated at judo before Christmas) was playing up again and causing me quite a bit of pain.
Gary's bad day didn't stop him from coming round with a very nice bottle of wine; so, instead, I rustled up some nachos and we spent the evening with a DVD on the sofa (we were on the sofa, not the DVD).
I decided, with a little trepidation, that I should come clean about my whole relationship dilemma thing (I kind of neglected to mention my farewell session with George on the grounds that that might have been a little too honest of me). Expecting the worst, I was pleasantly surprised when all Gary did was kiss me and tell me that it was all right and that we could just take things at whatever pace I was comfortable with and, if it didn't work out, well, it obviously wasn't meant to be, but that didn't mean that we couldn't have fun trying.
To say I was relieved was an understatement; I was pretty certain my unaccustomed honesty was going to scare him off but, apparently, he seemed to understand my apprehension; so, in that respect, all was well in Julie's world.
I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but Gary is a pretty good kisser so, I was quite happy just to have to put up with his reassuring kisses. It was while this was going on, that my shoulder (the one I dislocated) started acting up again. I must have been putting pressure on it and it began to ache.
Gary, bless him, noticed my discomfort and asked if I would like him to give it a rub. By now, I was quite ready to be doing some rubbing of my own (and I don't mean my shoulder) so I happily agreed.
At first, he just began working on it through my blouse, occasionally sliding his thumb in under my neck line to make better contact. It felt good having his fingers gently but firmly working on my neck and shoulders and I soon found myself relaxing in response to his touch.
Occasionally, I'd let out a yelp of pain as he applied a little too much pressure to a tender spot. This inevitably resulted in some very nice apologetic kissing on his part as he made it up to me. I will be honest and admit that I took advantage of this, exaggerating my discomfort and pretending that bits of me hurt that didn't just as an excuse to elicit more of his 'apologetic' kisses from him.
Eventually, I asked him if he'd object to me removing my blouse to make things easier for him and, strangely enough, he didn't mind at all.
Gary has quite big hands. Strong, but yet gentle and his ministrations certainly helped ease my shoulder (even despite my protestations to the contrary). I did, of course, advise him that he didn't have to restrict himself to just my neck and shoulders and, of course, he didn't. Nor, in the end, did he restrict himself to just using his hands either. It wasn't long before his lips and tongue were helping out too.
Things just kind of progressed from there. As Gary kissed and caresses my neck and shoulders, my bra joined my blouse on the floor and, it wasn't too much longer before my jeans were added to the growing pile of discarded clothing and I found myself stretched out on the floor, in just my knickers, with Gary's fingers and lips exploring all over my body.
"Mmmmmm, that feels nice," I encouraged as he kissed and licked his way up and down my spine. I was feeling warm and tingly and very relaxed but, while my back was enjoying Gary's attentions, my front was beginning to feel left out so, with just a hint of reluctance, I rolled over.
Strangely enough, Gary didn't require any instruction. After a long and lingering kiss, he moved down and began acquainting himself with my tits.
It felt so good as he caressed, kissed and licked them all over, and I told him so, repeatedly, squirming and sighing and getting incredibly turned on in response to his touch. My knickers were increasingly becoming uncomfortably damp as he sucked and teased my nipples.
I could, quite happily, have let him continue to play with my tits for ages; I'm never averse to letting a guy do his share of the work. I was, however, quite keen to begin to do a little exploring of my own.
I stopped him, announcing, "My turn," and quickly helped him out of his shirt and jeans. One thing that I hadn't been prepared for was just how hairy he was. I don't have a problem with hairy men, but I just wasn't expecting him to be for some reason. He is pretty well toned and definitely firm in all the right places. A few strategically placed 'inadvertent' brushes of my hand told me that, once I finally got him out of his boxers, I wasn't going to be disappointed in that area either.
And I wasn't. As I kissed and caressed his body, exploring it for the first time, I helped him out of his boxer shorts and got a first look at what they had been concealing. I have seen/had longer cocks, but not many and they weren't that much longer. It was, perhaps just slightly longer than George's, which was always a good starting point. Besides which, I'm more of a width girl than a length girl and his was just nicely proportioned, at least as thick as George's had been; big enough that I knew I'd feel pleasantly full with it inside me and yet, not so big that I'd end up with jaw ache just trying to get it in my mouth; which is, of course, what I proceeded to do.
His response was suitably rewarding. "Fuck, Julie," he gasped (it was the first, time I'd ever heard him swear), "If I'd known you were this good, I'd have let you do this sooner." I took that as a compliment.
Gary clearly knew how to make all the right noises and say exactly the right things to let me know how much he was enjoying it as I worked my lips up and down his shaft, taking him deep into the back of my throat.
I always like getting to know a new cock and Gary's fine specimen was no exception.
"Oh, yes! That's good! " Gary moaned and sighed as I used my mouth to drive him wild. Just thinking about the fact that I would soon be feeling it inside my pussy was making me wetter and wetter.
I varied my pace. Licking, kissing and sucking, I did everything I could to ensure his enjoyment.
His hips began to buck, his breathing deepened. "I... I'm getting close," he warned me. "If you're going to stop, n... now would be the time to do it."
"Do you really want me to stop?" I teased.
"Um, well, not if you don't want to," he replied.
"OK then, since you put it so eloquently..." I teased again then wrapped my lips around him once more.
