In my last submission, I said something that wasn't true...
I said that I hadn't indulged in guy sex since those days in the hay loft, and that is mainly true, except for one remarkable exception...
When I was in college in the 80s, I had an incredibly funny girlfriend that I'll call Anarkali. Anarkali was from India, though she'd lived most of her life here. She was very peppy in an American way, and yet had a natural, sinewy flow to her being that can only come from the Indian subcontinent.
Anarkali had the kind of approach to sex and lovemaking that I have. Regular and often, and incredibly funny! We laughed SO much when we were between the sheets, that her roommate jokingly complained more about the laughter than the lovemaking.
She was going to Bryn Mawr and I was at the University of Pennsylvania. I was very much the punk rocker. She was comically new wave. I gave her much grief over some of her musical choices, but it was all just part of our happy, good times. We would get together at my tiny apartment in University City or at her dorm room at Bryn Mawr. Bryn Mawr was a little hairy, because any of the girls there could have turned us in at any time. Guys in the dorm were strictly verboten!
Her family were very wealthy Indian business tycoons, and sending her to a girl's college was meant to keep her a virgin until she was ready to marry the boy that had been chosen for her. This was still done among wealthy Indians, and Anarkali actually had no problem with it. She knew the boy well, and felt that it would be a pretty good marriage. The pre arranged finality of our relationship added to the over the top wildness of our lovemaking.
In the future, perhaps I'll write a little of some of our more comically erotic moments. This quick story is about a little arrangement she made to see how far I would go with her boy cousin.
Anarkali was the only girl I ever told about how natural and fun it was sucking dick when I was younger. She thought that it was absolutely the coolest, and wanted to see it happen. I told her no, that that kind of thing is fine at a certain age, but is likely to get you into hot water if indulged in as a more grown up grown up. Tosh, she replied, I was a sex hypocrite, and if I really loved her, I would let her figure something out. We laughed and I let it be for the time being.
Not long after, we visited her Uncle's giant house in Westchester County, New York. This was unusual, because Anarkali was keeping me out of her family's view, but the Uncle was back in India, and we would have the run of the place to ourselves. Her cousin, who I'll call Neddie because I know it'll piss him off, was also supposed to be away.
Anarkali told me, while we were fucking on a particularly valuable antique carpet, that she had turned Neddie into somewhat of a sex slave. She had caught him sucking another Indian boy two years before, and having that to hold over his head, she had insisted that he kiss her peach and fuck her several times since then. It allowed her to explore a comically dominant personality that she thought suited her more than any attempt at a genuinely stern dom facade. "Bullshit!" I cried, but she said it was true. I told her I believed her, but that it was just her way to have some old fashioned cousin to cousin sex play. She agreed, but said it put her in a position to direct things, which she liked.
Anarkali liked to tell me over the top things while I was inside of her. The conversation slowed us down a little, then what we had just talked about would send us into super orgasm!