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.
