Perfect

He and I had what some would call a vanilla sex life for a long time. We tried new things slowly, made each other feel real ecstasy when the passion was right, and most often it was right. We clicked from the very beginning, like our bodies were always meant to intertwine. We could make love and we could fuck. But it was never an obsession.

A year into our relationship I began to wonder if he might be bored. Not with me exactly, just in general. I've never thought I was unattractive, despite some men's efforts to guilt me or hurt me when I turned down their pathetic advances. I've got larger than average breasts, which many have described as perky. My nipples are on the smaller side, and they get hard very easily. I've got nice long legs, one hell of an ass. I know that I'm sexy.

He says that He loves my lips most of all, and if there were anything I needed validation for that was it. Of all the things that men tried to make me insecure about, my lips somehow managed to be the common target. It was always the white boys, who would drop their favorite slur when I made them angry enough. Even the "politically correct" ones end up surprised when I don't slip into AAVE once I'm angry. But He loves my lips, and He's all I want.

I was kissing His neck when he said it for the first time, just making my way down to where I wanted to be. "Your lips are perfect," He half-whispered. His voice was as smooth as his almost pearl-like skin. It made me shudder to hear Him speak when we were like this, naked and in each other's embrace. He didn't say much during our intimate time, but when he did I was putty in his hands.

That must have been when the change began. I imagined a hundred things at once, all the things I could do with my lips to make Him happy. I could kiss so many parts of Him, tease Him, make them look pretty for Him. I forgot everything about myself for the blink of an eye. I wasn't a pre-med student. I wasn't the daughter of two successful doctors. I didn't have any sisters, any friends, any responsibilities. I just belonged to Him.

It only lasted that instant, and I came back to Him with, "They do more than talk." And ten minutes of work later his seed was on my tongue.

A few days later I was having a study session with our mutual friend Erica. I often found myself jealous of her, and how easily she could bend her own mind to whatever the circumstance called for. Without hesitation she could turn off grief and zero in on her studies, or when her boyfriend wanted time with her she could arouse herself in an instant. Somehow she had that control, and I couldn't even be sure it was genuine. Maybe in addition to medical prowess she had a talent for performance.

On a break, we talked about her ex boyfriend and how he simply felt she was too agreeable, not nearly independent enough to provide excitement. I told her it was bullshit, a weird excuse so he could fuck other people, but she just said, "I wouldn't have cared if he wanted to fuck other people."

She always had her hair in a loose, comfortable ponytail, contrasting my typical tight, braided one. I wanted her blonde hair, but never had the drive to actually go and dye it. Erica was just a little fantasy I could have for myself. Why she would let anyone do that to her I didn't know.

"Did you?"

"No, but I could have." Of course she could have. That tight, petite figure and those big blue eyes. What guy wouldn't want her? She was the kind of girl some of my cousins went hunting for on the weekends.

"Well now nothing's stopping you," I told her.

She jumped up onto the kitchen counter while I blended the strawberries into our smoothie. "Nothing's stopping anyone," she said when the buzzing died down.

"You taking a philosophy course this semester?" I laughed.

"It's true. Just weird societal stigmas based on nothing." She had a blank expression on her face, like what she said was just the standard thought she always had and never expressed. It was a very nihilistic point of view, that nothing was off limits. If Erica wanted to, she could have killed me then and there.

"You must be into kinky shit," I joked. She was getting a little too serious for me.

She lightened up a bit, and winked. "I'm into whatever you want me to be."

I hoped that my mind didn't show on my face. Because when she said that, I heard his voice again. "Your lips are perfect." What else could be perfect for him? How else could I get that kind of praise? If Erica could do anything I wanted, I could do the same for Him.

I dropped the topic for fear of exposing myself, and our studies went on. She left the apartment about an hour later, feeling we were fully prepared for our fall midterms. He came shortly after her departure, carrying groceries in both arms. "We're looking at a big dinner tonight, hope you've got room," He managed to say before his eyes came to my breasts.

I had taken off all my clothes the second Erica went out the door, and played with my lips ever so lightly to get myself excited. I didn't need to, but feeling how wet I became was too much fun to resist. When I heard the lock tumbling, I jumped to my feet and stretched my hands behind my back to let my chest push out just a bit. And His eyes went just there.

He was naked with me in moments, and I put my perfect lips to His perfect manhood right in front of the door, on my knees. Normally we were on the bed or the couch, but moving just a few feet over to the door provided a little excitement. He moaned and fiddled with my braid a bit, which he usually didn't do. It was just a small change, but enough to get Him somewhere nice and new.

Until that day, I had never asked, "Where do you want to cum?" My hand traveled the length of his shaft, back and forth, back and forth, made easy by the great amount of saliva I left on it. It took a lot to bring my eyes from His eight inches to His face, but when I did I did not regret it.

"On your tits," He answered, quiet and sure.

He never called them tits before. If my nipples weren't already hard, they became adamantium in that moment. I had expected to surprise Him, to make him think about what possibilities were ahead. But He had his answer ready. He's wanted this for a long time, I realized. Instinctively, I answered, "Yes sir," and stroked His load out onto my tits.

I had never seen His cum on my skin until then. White on black looked better than I imagined it would in the moments before He spurted out onto me. I saw myself in the mirror by the door, on my knees, cum on my tits, and His hard cock still in my hand. And I never looked better.

It was three hours later, dinner in our bellies and pajamas on, when I realized that I never asked for any reciprocation like I usually did. I was completely satisfied having finished Him by the door. We were cuddled up in bed, I reading my textbook and He reading a crime novel, when I felt myself getting wet. I turned my head up to Him from his chest and asked, "Did you like my little present today?"

He stroked my hair, almost like I was a pet. "I did," He answered. He sounded very much in control of the situation, as if He had commanded me to do it. But it was me, my desire. "What came over you?" He asked with scientific curiosity.

"I just wanted to please you," I said, wavering unexpectedly. I felt like I had lost my breath, like His fingers were inside me. All from the sound of his quiet, sensual voice. "I want to do more," I admitted. "How can I do that?"

He smiled knowingly. "Entertain me."

**********

Erica walked through the door that Saturday afternoon, books in hand and earbuds dangling out of her head. She took them out and gave me a confused look, turning her head an inch and asking, "What did we miss?"

"Oh, you know," I said. "Just figured it wouldn't hurt to study a little more."

"She gets a little paranoid about midterms," He said, not turning up from his book. He sat on the couch, bathed in sunlight form the large open window in the living room. He didn't know, Erica didn't know, but I knew what was going to happen. If she still felt as nihilistic as the previous day.

"Do you mind?" I asked, keeping up the charade.

"Why not?" she shrugged. We dug into our books again, and silence stood strong for half an hour. I wanted to start faster, to get to the point and make Him smile and tell me I did well. But I was able to wait an hour to keep Erica off her toes.

"Let's take a break," Erica said. "Got any snacks?"

I almost went straight for an innuendo, but thought better of it and grabbed us some cheese and crackers. Then I leaned back in my chair and said, "So, what wild anti-societal rhetoric is on your mind today?"

"Nothing in particular," she said. "But if you give me something to work with I'm sure I can make your head spin."

Her hair was still in that comfortable ponytail, but that day I couldn't help but look at her lips. "Your lips are perfect," He told me. And I hoped they were more perfect than hers, because practically everything else on her body was. The only chance I had at a better feature was skin and lips, and even her lips were getting me excited just by looking.

"What do you think of sexuality?" I asked, trying to sound more academically curious than personally.

"I think it's fluid, no matter who you are."

He didn't look up, but I knew He was listening. I kept on. "I don't understand."

"Sure, there's an identity that everyone can identify with based on how they feel. If you say you're gay, then you're gay. Straight is straight, bi is bi, pan is pan, so on and so forth. But if you believe strongly enough in your own freedom, if you just don't give a shit about these rules we created for ourselves, you're what you want to be when you want to be it."

"Give me an example," I said. "I think I'm starting to catch on."

"If a gay man has only ever had sex with men, and then one day decides he's going to fuck a woman, he can. He's still gay, always has been and always will be, but he can behave straight and get equal satisfaction out of it. Basically I believe there is no rule. He can fuck a woman, cum, and still be gay. It's a genetic thing, he can't change it. But that doesn't mean he can't physically enjoy a tight pussy."

"Okay, so by demonstration?" I said.

"What do you mean?"

I tossed my braid back and turned by chair toward her. He was not looking, but I knew that He could see. "So for example, I am straight and always have been."

"Okay," she said.

Then I kissed her. It was long, slow, and tingling. It felt much the same way that a wedding kiss does, a seal of fate that emanates joy throughout your entire being. It was a kiss of pure infatuation, undying resolve to do right by one person that you love forever. I never thought that by kissing someone else, I would feel such immense love for Him. But that's where the tingle came from, in knowing that I was doing something for Him. "Entertain me," He said. So I did.

Then I pulled away. If I didn't have my mocha skin, Erica would have seen how flushed I was. Instead, I kept composure and said, "Now I'm still straight. But I did something I felt like doing."

"That's right," she said. "There is no rule to break, so it is not broken. And if you're a steadfast believer in rules, think of it this way. Sexuality is something you feel, not something you do. If you're a straight woman who does nothing but fuck other women, you are still straight because it's how you feel."

Her hands were still on mine as mine rested on my leg. She kept eye contact with me, not hard and piercing but soft and welcoming. She did not seem conscious of how she appeared. "And you still believe in open relationships?"

"Yes I do," she said.

Then I was on her again, lips locked. I started unbuttoning her sheer blue top, flimsy and coarse. Then came the light blue tank top underneath, but instead of taking it all the way off, I just pulled the straps down her shoulders. I didn't want to stop kissing her. When I could finally feel her bare breasts, I pulled back and looked.

The tank top framed them beautifully, letting a firm, perky C cup spill over the low cut. Her nipples were larger than mine, wider by an inch and longer by half. They were pink, and begging for attention. I let my perfect lips find one, and twisted the other with two fingers. She was moaning instantly, far more sensitive in her breasts than I was.

I wanted to know what He thought. Erica had her back on the table a moment later, legs spread so I could keep my tongue on her nipple. From there I could see Him, an ankle crossed over his knee and his arms spread wide over the top of the couch. He looked like he was watching television, but the little smile on His face said otherwise.

He made me tingle again, and my fervor exploded. In seconds I was completely naked, and Erica followed my example. She looked surprised when she saw my body, and said, "You've been hiding this from me all along?"

She dashed at me, grabbing my braid and lifting a leg for me to hold. Our lips mashed together at an incredible rate, making us both drip down to our legs. She for the heat of the moment, I for the heat of His gaze.

Erica dropped to her knees and shook the band out of her ponytail, letting it loosen into a wavy mane of golden locks. She never looked as beautiful as she did down there, her mouth inches away from my clit and her eyes looking up into mine like a puppy begging for a treat. I grabbed her hair and pushed her face between my legs.

Every lick and lap felt all the better with Him watching. I could see how hard His cock was through His jeans, thought they remained zipped. I wished He were stroking His cock for me to see, to confirm that I did well. But it was all there in His eyes. In a way, that was better.

Erica was good at what she did. Her hands practically clawed at my ass, but gently enough that I didn't need her to stop. Her tongue twiddled around my clit expertly, neither applying too much attention nor ignoring it completely. It was a combination of teasing and giving, flicking the tip of her tongue across it and then circling around for a second. Meanwhile, her bottom lip acted like a second tongue, reaching to my vagina and pulling up my own juices for her to taste.

It got so good I couldn't stand anymore, and I set her down on the floor so I could ride her face. That only made her better, but at least hear I didn't risk falling and crushing her skull. Here she performed like her life depended on it.

When I came, I came hard. I screamed so loud it echoed, and not even my own hand could stop that. She giggled against my lips when I was done, and then flipped the both of us over. "It's your turn now," Erica said.

She tasted like heaven with Him in the room. Every drop of her overwhelmed my senses and left me feeling intoxicated while I licked her, scratched her back. I could still feel the wet stickiness between my own legs, and I wanted her to feel the same. As it turned out, I was quite a natural at the art of cunnilingus. She bucked her hips and ground her clit against my tongue, stuck out long and wide. But when I reached up and grabbed her hair, forcing her to lean back, she lost control and came even louder than I did.

But I did not stop. I went into overdrive, moaning into her and tonguing at her clit with such speed and intensity that my jaw began to tense up. But something told me it needed to be done, and within her orgasm came a new level of pleasure I did not know was possible for the female body. The sexual power emanated so strongly I could feel it myself, and let my legs shake in the glory of it.

She was unconscious when it was over, her back lying on top of my legs and her hair spilling over to the floor. I needed to rest a moment, to catch my breath before I could do anything about it. But He came to help me, and together we carried her into the bedroom where should could sleep it off as long as she needed. Erica looked beautiful lying naked and still panting, blonde curls covering an entire pillow and skin flushed from the pleasure. I wished I could do more to her the second I saw His hard cock out in the open air.

I began to suck it instantly, taking it in deep for as long as I could, then getting air to do it again. "You're a good little slut," He said. "I'm very entertained."

I nearly came again when He said it. I'm his little slut, I thought. And I've never been happier in my entire life. That was when the obsession began. That was when I became his property. Toys came and went, Ericas and Samanthas and Lillians. But I was His slut. And I would do anything just to hear him say one little thing.

"Good girl."