To say we were incompatible would be untrue; after all, no man wants to date an exact female equivalent of themselves, and there are many passions we have always shared: we are both into swimming, and love our cookery. We both have Spanish descendants and have been dating almost solidly since high school.
In short, Esmeralda and I have a lot in common.
But there was friction too: her Catholic, sheltered upbringing left the delightful girl shy and inhibited, scared of expressing herself sexually and desperately embarrassed by lewdness or eroticism. Whereas I have always lusted for rampant debauchery, with a zest to sample new adventures and broaden my experiences, she was firmly against trying new sexual exploits as they didn't "interest her." It took me four years to introduce sex toys into the bedroom, but I've seen the amount of batteries we use so I know they get used often. It took me five years for her to allow me to go down on her: the continuous orgasms converted her overnight, although she still said it wasn't "proper." It's the Catholic upbringing in her.
So while I have a bucket list of lustful endeavours to try, she refused. It caused arguments and friction as I needed her willingness to experiment for me to experience them. It's an unenviable situation, and tensions only increased when she started her teacher training, staying 100 miles away during the week at the school she had been placed at.
It was tough, for both of us. She wanted to do things as a couple at the weekend, and I just wanted to do her in the bedroom.
Our relationship may have come to a head, if it wasn't for the death of Robert: he was her teaching mentor and was involved in a road traffic accident outside the school gates. He died by her side in the hospital, but his dying words must have had an impact.
Suddenly gone were the frumpy dresses to the secondary school, but clothes that accentuated her peachy arse and smooth curves. Gone too was the introverted personality, but unleashed was a devilish woman, intent on living her life. It was amazing. But none quite so much as the effect in the bedroom: she was a wild woman that first weekend after the funeral. Sure, her emotions were up and down, but when they were up so was her blood.
She rode my cock like a bucking bronco, screaming profanities into the night. She kissed me like we would never see each other again, consumed with passion as her hands wandered and squeezed my nipples with lust in her eyes; it was heaven.
She was insatiable. Uncontrollably horny and completely rampant. She forced my face into her cunt, screaming as she rode my tongue to repeated orgasms, before turning to her vibrator to nestle against her clit as we fucked doggy style. She woke me up in the night, playing with herself, and she watched pornography for the first time.
I had never watched porn with Esmeralda before, but the smooth texture of her thighs as she sat on the bed, her eyes glued to the explicit imagery on the screen, pleading for me to slide my fingers into her dampness was intense. She loved it; she loved lesbian videos, she adored BDSM, and she was entranced by some of the gangbangs and orgies. But my desire for wicked experimentation was still dismissed: she wanted lots more sex, but she wanted it on her own terms.
However, she was a woman transformed, and I began to worry about her sex drive away from me for the week, but loving the joy of the weekends.
The weekends were becoming one long party, which is why I was invited up to see her one weekend, rather than her returning to the University – a birthday party that she wanted to attend, and my presence was requested: her head of department was turning sixty and had hired a country hotel for the festivities. Esmeralda dressed in a gorgeous black slip dress: I had not seen it before, the material was almost translucent and her bare body glistened through the delicate material. I had an erection the moment I saw her: she would turn heads and engorge cocks! "I have a surprise for you," she promised, with a coy giggle but would say no more: the tease!
The birthday party was a big affair: over a hundred people attended, and the dancefloor soon filled up. I held my girlfriend tight, my hands sliding over her figure-hugging garment and causing her dress to ride slightly. She gave me a dirty look as we kissed: her hands sliding into the waistband of my trousers and gripping the firmness of my cock through my briefs.
She groaned into my ear as she squeezed me tight, grinding against my body as her finger swirled the pre-cum over the tip of my cock. I grunted, staring into her eyes as she smiled. She knew what she was doing: she was playing with my manhood in front of dozens of people and was bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm.
I had always wanted to play publicly, and she knew it. I felt the awkwardness of the situation, the lust of being exposed and the thrill of the danger. It was intense and as I felt myself nearing orgasm, she withdrew her fingers, coyly licking them in front of me. "Maybe later!"
She was a tease: an unchecked, unrestained coquette of devilish intentions.
She led me into the toilet and pushed me into a cubicle, smirking as she sank to her knees and freed my cock into her hands. Her eyes sparkled as she kissed my unfettered dick, licking her lips and sliding her tongue over the glans and sucking forcefully. Fellatio was a once-a-year treat and she looked at me with fire in her eyes as her head bobbed along my shaft; I groaned, pushing the back of her black hair as my cock slid over her tongue, enjoying the debauched acts with relish.
