I originally conceived this submission as an autobiographical piece, however it soon morphed into a fictionalized biography. The bones of the story are true, just embellished. For example, "The Document" is real, just not as outrageous, my wife practices domestic discipline, just not as ritualized, and so forth. The Afterword is for the most part composed of words my wife has actually spoken at various times to various people just not all at once. Please enjoy. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
*
When Lynn and I first met she was an absolute virgin. It went beyond never having had sex; she had no idea what any of it was about.
She had never seen a naked male, man or child. Her mother was extremely uptight about sex and only told her sex was painful and an unpleasant duty she would have to suffer through for the sake of her husband.
Lynn didn't know the mechanics of sex, the what where when or how. She only knew she had a need. Lynn was truly a complete virgin. Because she had no experience of any kind I knew that we would have to go very slowly and carefully. Despite how much I wanted to jump her beautiful bones I held back, took my time.
We started building up to intercourse at least two months before we "went all the way". Even so, when the big moment arrived we went very slowly. We actually took 5 hours of foreplay before we got into bed.
Still I moved slowly. Balls bluer than blue I took my time and let her set the pace, able to back out any time she wished. I even took the bottom so she could control the penetration. I was a saint and it changed my life.
Just as an infant is infinitely innocent, it is infinitely selfish. An infant wants what it wants and it wants it now and it expects you to provide it because it doesn't know that life should be any other way.
Lynn was totally innocent about anything sexual and so totally selfish. I had introduced her to her sexuality by focusing entirely on her needs, disregarding my own and so in her innocence she thought that was just the way sexual relations were always supposed to be.
Eventually, when I tried to assert my needs she became upset and confused. Still we were having sex multiple times every day so who was I to complain. I went along to get along.
As Lynn discovered the joy of her sexuality she became very curious about all aspects of it. Because she came to it with no preconceived notions about right and wrong or moral and immoral she was open to anything I suggested that would enhance her pleasure.
She immediately became interested in porno flicks when I first rented one to show her different practices and techniques. She remains a lover of porn movies to this day, although she tends to only watch those that have, shall we say, strong female leads.
At one point very early on, just before I rented our first porn movie I told her that most men liked porno and most women didn't because men were more visually oriented in their sexuality than women were.
She said she didn't know what I was talking about she loved seeing me naked. Shyly she asked if when we were alone together would I mind not wearing any clothes. She loved looking at my body.
Specifically she to liked to look at and endlessly play with my cock. Lynn was utterly fascinated watching it swell and subside and swell again. Something she caused to happen a hundred times a day. Of course, I agreed, who doesn't like to be told they're beautiful to look at and receive lots of sexual attention?
Strange thing though, when I asked her to be naked with me she declined. She said she wasn't comfortable without her clothes.
And so it began. I guess I'm to blame. I felt so protective of Lynn and I wanted to ensure that her introduction to sex was as perfect as I knew how to make it. I was willing to do anything to make it a wonderful experience.
I did that by totally focusing on her needs at the expense of my own. By the time the bloom was off the rose it was too late to change the status quo. I was stuck as the junior partner in our sexual relations.
At the time though I wasn't complaining. I was, and still am so very much in love with Lynn that I felt and still do that being trusted to introduce her to her sexuality, allow her to explore and develop it then share it with her is the greatest honor I have ever had in my life. Even if my sexuality has had to suffer because of it.
The thing that set the tone for the rest of our relationship was, from the first time we made love, at the end of that very long session of foreplay, I allowed her to control my release. I wanted to be sure that she was completely satisfied before I came. When I first told her to let me know when she was ready for me to cum I should have known that she didn't have a clue what I was talking about.
You should have seen her eyes get all big and round when I released the pent-up flood into her.
I didn't know it then, though I do now, that when I let loose she thought that this was the unpleasant part her mother had told her about and having that mess inside her was the burden she had to bear. In short, Lynn loved sex but hated my ejaculation.
But for a while she put up with it as her mother told her she must. Ultimately, though, the message I had sent was that Lynn was entitled to control my sexuality. That's not the message I intended to send. I wanted to let her know that I was committed to her gratification. But that wasn't the one she received, a misunderstanding that has come to dominate my life.
Eventually Lynn would forget to tell me when she was ready for my release, or so she said, or she would ask that I save it for another session later that day. As time progressed "later" wasn't happening all the time.
I suffered in silence for a while, too long, it seems. When I finally broached the subject of my frustration Lynn was unapologetic. She didn't like me depositing my "sticky mess" inside her body and she didn't want me to do it anymore.
Needless to say I was pretty upset about that and suggested that we use condoms so both of us could enjoy the sexual experience. We tried them quite a few times but neither of us liked them.
For me there was a lack of sensation and for her there was an artificial feeling like I was using a dildo on her. So condoms were eventually abandoned and I had to learn to control my orgasm.
Actually what I learned was tantric sex without knowing that's what it was. I learned that I could allow myself to go right to the edge of ejaculation and stop. If done correctly this produced an orgasm without an ejaculation.
No, I didn't get it right all at once and I still slip-up today, but eventually I figured it out. So there was a compromise, I wouldn't cum inside her and she would get me off by hand when I really felt the need.
Typically this would happen on Saturday or Sunday morning. Lynn would play with me like she did all the rest of the time but on these early mornings she would finish the job instead of leaving me frustrated.
One morning I didn't realize I was close to release and I failed to warn Lynn to move her hand out of the way. When I came it covered her hand completely. She told me it was disgusting. And placing her hand to my lips she said, "here clean this up" and I did.
That was the first time I ever tasted my ejaculate. I didn't really mind it. There was something very erotic about sucking her fingers and licking her hand.
It didn't taste like much of anything to me and, as it turns out, that is a good thing. Ever since then whenever I "make a mess" Lynn expects me to clean it up in the same way regardless where I make it.
But since then Lynn rarely gives me even a hand job anymore. Now, occasionally she gives her permission and then supervises while I get myself off, usually onto a plate or into a glass to make it easier to "clean up my own mess". Lynn calls it recycling.
We have been together a long time now and as with most people we have grown and evolved in the relationship. Lynn is no longer the shy virgin and I am no longer the worldly-wise sex ed. instructor.
Lynn has grown into a confident woman who knows what she wants and isn't shy about demanding it. I, on the other hand, have grown accustomed to living with a woman who is very strong willed and demanding. I find that I like this arrangement. There is a comfort in having some one else make all the decisions.
We got to a point where Lynn no longer made any attempt at sexual fairness. Sex was all about her. Period.
In fact, most of our relationship had evolved into that. I loved her madly and would do anything for her. Lynn liked me naked, so I was naked. Lynn didn't like to cook, so I cooked. Lynn didn't like doing the laundry, so I did the laundry. Lynn in fact didn't like to do much around the house so I did it. Gladly.
Even our morning routine was "Lynn-centered". I got up early, put on the coffee, laid out her clothes for the day, got her toothbrush ready and then gently woke her.
When she was ready for her shower I prepared it and got into the shower with her (we have a specially designed enclosure that is comfortable for us both) and bathed her.
I washed most of her body with body wash (she doesn't allow me to clean her sex. She says I don't have the right touch. I am either too harsh or too soft).
I washed her hair and shaved the parts, which needed shaving (legs, arm pits and slight bikini line). I helped her dry off then took my own shower, which included shaving off my pubes and armpits because Lynn has this thing about pubic hair. Mine, not hers.
Then I dried the shower walls and doors. Finally I dried myself then helped Lynn get dressed. I held her underpants while she stepped into them. I pulled them into place and helped her into her bra. I snapped the hooks and slipped her blouse over her shoulders and buttoned it. Lynn sat down and I slipped her socks on her feet. This morning it was cotton socks, they're easy, I hate her pantyhose.