The Story Of G

This is the story of G and how she came to dominate our lives.

Gia is the daughter of old friends. My wife Meg and I have known Gia her whole life. When she was very young, our families lived close to each other, and she would call us "Aunt" and "Uncle." Even after she and her family moved to a different city, we would visit several times of year and sometimes vacation together.

Accordingly, Meg and I were overjoyed to hear that Gia was moving back to our city in order to attend college. We had been having some issues with the tenant in the downstairs apartment of our townhouse and were happy to offer Gia the apartment at well below market. After she moved in, Gia was one of the family. She came upstairs to our apartment for dinner three or four nights a week. She was always happy to watch our boys — aged 10 and 12 — whenever we asked, and the boys adored her. One night, we all went out to celebrate Gia's 19th birthday and must have looked like one happy family.

Then the pandemic hit. Meg and I decided that she should take the boys to her parents' farm upstate. However, my job required me to stay in the city. Gia's mother has some health issues, so Gia decided to stay as well, rather than return home and put her mother at risk. For the first couple of months alone in the house, Gia and I continued in some ways as before. Gia would come upstairs for dinner several nights a week. I was happy for the company and to think that I was looking out for my friend's daughter. I was not yet looking at Gia as a woman. Gia was cute, but not a head-turner. She stands about 5' 5" with brown eyes and hair that, at the time, framed her face. She still had some pleasant baby fat and put on the "freshman 10" with Meg and I feeding her. She was by no means overweight, but I think the extra weight made her self conscious. She often dressed in baggy sweatshirts and, although she had made some friends at school, she had no boyfriend of which Meg and I were aware.

The night that everything changed started off as just another dinner. Except that I noticed Gia was unusually quiet. I was worried that quarantining was starting to get her down. Sometimes my wife and I would offer Gia a little wine with dinner, if the boys were not around, so I did this night. But, it did not seem to lift her spirits.

After dinner, I brought the dishes to the sink. I was about to ask Gia if she wanted to watch a movie, but when I turned around she had gotten up from the table and was walking toward me. She stepped right up to me. Her eyes shone as she looked up at me. Suddenly, I could not help notice her full lips. She stood up on her toes and leaned into me. I grabbed around the waist, and it was not long before I was squeezing her surprisingly firm ass.

I felt her tongue probe my mouth hesitantly. When I started to reciprocate, she stood back and pulled up her sweatshirt over her beautiful, full breasts. Her gumdrop nipples were standing up, and I fell upon them immediately, squeezing, teasing, licking, and sucking those beautiful jewels. For Gia's part, it was all I could do to hold her steady to keep her nipples in my mouth. She was thrashing and shuddering. She finally let out a scream of delight, then back-pedaled several steps, doubled-over with her hands across her breasts. She looked at me in shock, before she ran from the apartment.

I stood there for a long time, unable to comprehend what I had done. But, my feelings of guilt did nothing to ease my straining erection. I had to masturbate to get it to ease and then again later that night in order to get even a few hours' sleep.

The next day, I was working from home, but could barely get anything done. I kept pinballing between deep guilt and intense arousal at what happened. At times, I was paralyzed with fear that Gia would tell my wife or her parents about the encounter. But, when I thought I heard the front door to the townhouse, I rushed to the window and peeked around the blind in hopes of catching a glimpse of her.

I did not have to wait long. Taking out the trash that night brought me by the front door of her apartment. As I came back inside, Gia had the door opened just a crack and said softly that she was "so sorry." When I took a step towards her door she retreated inside quickly.

But, she did not close the door. I stepped into the apartment, and instead of her usual sweatshirt, Gia was wearing a skimpy, V-neck t-shirt that fell in folds between her luscious breasts. Her erect nipples announced themselves through the thin fabric, and she was chewing on her lip by the time I closed the door. This time, we kissed without hesitation. I picked her up and carried her into the living room, and we fell upon the sofa.

When I started to push up her t-shirt, Gia threw it aside with a laugh and pulled me to one of her big breasts. I unbuttoned her skin-tight jeans and slid my hand into her trim, sopping pussy. She came hard before I even got her jeans and panties off. Neither one of us had protection that night, so we just kissed and fondled one another. I thought about going down on her, but she was so inexperienced she came twice more just from me tonguing her nipples and fingering her pussy and clit.

Before her third orgasm, Gia leaned into me and started yanking my cock. At first, I jumped and teased her that she was not starting an outboard motor. She bounced into the bathroom and came back with some lotion. She proved to have sound instincts as she swirled her hand up and down my shaft, periodically over the head of my cock, kissing my chest, and even delicately tonguing my nipples until I erupted all over her thighs and stomach.

So our affair began in earnest. Gia said that she had never had a real boyfriend, and I could believe that. Every time I tried something new or different, it seemed to send her into ecstasy. Which was a huge turn-on for me. We had a few more sessions like the one in her apartment. Then, finally, one night I tasted her sweet — and, God, it is — pussy for the first time. After pleasuring her orally a few times, she reciprocated. She was a quick study, licking and teasing. The first time she ever looked up from her knees while licking my balls, I almost blew my load in her hair.

Finally, one Saturday she told me that she was planning on meeting friends later. I told her that she should come upstairs for dinner anyway. I figured that we would have dinner, and then I would take it easy for the night. But, while I was preparing dinner, she decided to slide by me with a little toss of her hips and a look over her shoulder. I slid my arm around her waist and pulled her sweet ass up against my groin and started kissing her neck.

"Fuck me," she said simply, as she reached around for my belt, and I struggled to loosen her skirt. After more fumbling, she was bent over the table, and her pussy was literally dripping over my cock.

"Just a second," I said, as I backed away to get one of the condoms I now had in stock. But, she dug her nails into my naked buttocks.

"Just fuck me," she said. "It's all right, I'm on the pill. Just fuck me."

I will never forget how exquisitely tight she felt around my cock. She had one leg bent and up on the table as I worked my rather thick cock into her. Sometimes a thrust would elicit a short, high-pitched squeal. But, whenever I stopped or asked if she was all right, she would urge me on, gasping, "Do it. Do it."

Eventually, I worked up something of a rhythm. In dreaming of this night, I worried that I might have trouble coming, after weeks of release primarily by hand. Now, with Gia moaning and writhing beneath me, it was all I could do to prolong the excitement. Then, as Gia started to come, she lifted her upper body off the table with her arms and cried, "Come for me! Come for me!"

I could barely remain standing during the orgasm. Gia collapsed on the table, my legs trembled, and what seemed like the rest of my body pumped load after load into that tender, young pussy. We ended up collapsed on the floor for a long time, until finally we stumbled to bed and curled up together exhausted.

Gia was changing in many ways. When she gained a little weight her freshman year, she joked that she hated being a cliche, but I knew she was embarrassed. Even before we got together, I would see going out for a run, or when the gyms opened up again, coming or going with a yoga mat sticking out of her bag. When I first held her, I was surprised at how fit she had been. Thereafter, the hard work really began to show. Her soft, curvy young body became more athletic, her legs tone, her bottom hard and shapely. Her breasts actually got a little smaller, but firmer and more alluring. Sometimes when she would arch her back they would point in different directions, like something out of a porngraphic comic book.

When the salons reopened, Gia's brown hair became more lustrous, and she would dye highlights into it. She began to dress in more flattering outfits, although still relatively conservatively. Most strikingly, she became more forward and flirtatious. Meg would come down to the city for the occasional weekend. One time, we had Gia up to join us for dinner. She was wearing a long, bulky sweater over a pair of yoga pants. Every time Meg's back was turned, Gia would pull up the back of the sweater so I could see the thrilling curve of her ass. Even with my shirttail out, I was sure my wife would spot my erection.

On another visit, Gia called my wife. I stiffened when I heard Meg answer the phone. Then she told me that Gia's sink was leaking, and I should go take a look. I got my tools and went downstairs nervously. When I knocked, Gia called that the door was open. When I closed the door behind me, she looked around the corner from her bedroom to make sure I was alone. Then, she stepped out in a t-shirt and pair of panties. Her hand was in the panties, and she said, "It's not the sink that's dripping. Get over here."

I hesitated and gestured toward the upstairs where my wife was waiting. Gia looked me straight in the eye as she backed up to her sofa, slid off her panties, and said in a low voice, "If you ever want to taste this pussy again, you'd better get over here and do so now." I was nearly in tears as I knelt before her and began lapping at her sweet bush. "Good boy," she encouraged me gently, as she stroked my hair. When she came, she just moaned and bit her lip. And, as I got up to scrub my face, hoping Meg would not notice anything amiss when I went upstairs, I did not resent Gia's game. I was just grateful to her that she had not been more vocal.

For Halloween, I planned to go upstate to be with my family for the weekend. But, a few days before, on a night that Gia told me she was going to a party with friends, I was surprised by a knock on my door. What I saw when I opened the door dropped my jaw. Here was Gia in all her glory: heels, thigh-high stockings that did not reach the hem of her pleated, plaid skirt, and a tight, white top tied up beneath her magnificent breasts. She had dyed her hair electric blue and had pulled it into unbraided pigtails.

"Professor," she said, "I was wondering if I could speak to you about my grade?"

She took me by the hand, led me to the living room, then pushed me back onto the couch. She unslung the backpack that she had been wearing, took out a laptop, and set it up on my nearby desk. She made a point to bend low over the keyboard while calling up a playlist of songs with thumping bass lines. She began bouncing her beautiful, toned buttocks up and down. Then stood and began writhing her body like a cobra.

Slowly she danced back to me and lowered her sweet ass against my already throbbing erection. "I worked really hard on my project, you know," she said matter-of-factly. "And I need to maintain a B average to keep my scholarship."

Her cheeks began to slap my cock back and forth in my khakis. "So you can see how that C you gave me could be a real problem." She looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows at me.

She stood, turned to face me, and bent over to undo my belt and unzip my pants to free my cock. She laughed at my excitement and worked my pants and shorts off. Then she kneeled between my legs and ran her sweet, young tongue up the underside of my shaft. I threw my head back against the couch and moaned in ecstasy. She laughed, and I jumped as she pinched the tip of my cock. She began teasing my member expertly. Stroking, pumping, occasionally favoring me with a flick of her tongue. My hips began to buck involuntarily as she focused more on the tip of my shaft.

After what seemed an eon of glorious, excruciating teasing, she wrapped fingers of both hands around my dick. There was a pause. I opened my eyes and looked down to see Gia, her mouth open and poised over the tip of my cock, looking up at me mischievously. With a little laugh she devoured my cock and began delivering the most satisfying blowjob I had ever experienced.

I wanted the pleasure to go on forever, but my enthusiasm soon threatened to overwhelm me. And just as I was about to declare to Gia that I was on the verge of coming, she abruptly stopped, and her fingers fiercely grasped the base of my cock. I flinched in pain and opened my eyes to ask if everything was all right.

Gia seemed like an entirely different person. She was sitting on her calves, tightly holding my rock hard cock in her hand. Her head was tilted, and there was a stern expression on her face.

"Enjoying yourself, professor?" she asked, her voice flecked with anger. "You didn't give me a C on my project, you gave me an A. But you didn't even know that, did you? But, I wouldn't be the first girl you've accepted favors from in exchange for grades, would I?"

I started to protest, but she cut me off with a, "Don't," while rising to her feet. "We talk," she explained. Then she reached down, grabbed me by the hair, and turned my head toward the laptop. "I've been recording every second of our little 'conference.' And if you don't want it sent to the tenure committee, you're going to do exactly what I say."

"Please, please, please," I muttered, falling into the role.

"Quiet," she commanded, taking a step back. "Stand up and turn around."

I slowly rose to my feet, but when I hesitated to turn and began to ask why, she seized me by the hips, spun me around, and slapped my ass hard. I gasped. She snorted contemptuously, then pushed me forward so that I was kneeling on the couch. She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down over the back of the sofa.

"Don't move," she ordered.

As she stepped back from me, I could not help but look over my shoulder. She had been perfectly stern in her words, but I could see how excited she was as she slid her skirt to the floor and stepped out of it. She squatted by her backpack and began fumbling with it. Then to my amazement, she rose, drawing from the backpack a harness loaded with a six-inch strap-on.

"Oh my . . .," I could not help but gasp.

It was the cue for her to regain her composure. Turning her head and sneering, she declared, "I told you not to move." She bent down, and this time, had no difficulty producing a wooden ruler from her bag. She fairly jumped to her feet, covered the short distance between us, and cracked a half-dozen blows across my ass, evenly divided between each cheek, before tossing the ruler on the sofa next to me.

At her direction, I turned my eyes forward. At that moment, I would have given anything to have had a mirror to watch her securing the harness around her waist and athletic thighs. When I imagined that she was making her final adjustments, I stammered, "Gi-Gi-Gia, can't we talk about this?"

She seized the ruler and rained another half-dozen blows across my already burning ass.

"G-G-Gee, no. Pig," she decreed.

In truth, my protest was less than half-hearted and entirely in character. For Gia had unlocked something long dormant inside of me. Years before, during a semester abroad, I had dated a Frenchwoman who had introduced me to the pleasures of anal play. She once declared that it was as if I had a clit in my ass, because nothing else turned me on so. It started one night during foreplay, she had begun teasing my hole with her finger and burst into laughter at the strength of my response. A few nights later, she had offered to give me a massage and had me lay naked on the bed. As she progressed, she spent more time massaging my balls and cheeks. She began to work oil between my cheeks, then brush my hole with her thumb, and then to tease my hole with more deliberation. But, when she parted my cheeks and flicked a tongue across my hole, I was in ecstasy. I immediately lifted my ass in the air and groaned. I lifted my ass higher and began moaning like a girl as she lapped more vigorously at my boy pussy. I was on all fours with her arm around my waist, kissing my cheeks, begging, "Yes, Yes," when she jammed her finger in my ass and demanded that I come for her. I responded instantly. We had parted ways before she had been able to get me to accept more than a pair of fingers stretching my anus. Over the years, once or twice, I had half-jokingly raised the subject of anal play with Meg, only for her to express utter distaste. So my fetish had rested for almost two decades. But, now, Gia was poised to realize my deepest, most cherished fantasy and truly take my anal cherry.

"You think you're so tough. Always the man on top with ladies, huh," taunted Gia, as I felt a plastic nozzle between my cheeks and then lube fill the space between them.

"Now, you'll learn who's in charge," the tip of the dildo between my cheeks.

"What it's like to be at another's mercy," the rubber tip probing my hole.

"What's it's like to be impaled," the dildo beginning to part my cheeks, her hands gripping my waist.

"What you truly are," the shaft plunged tenderly inside me.

"What are you?" her voice pitched higher.

"Huh?" I gasped, nearly delirious.

"What are you?" she demanded, struggling to keep the tone of command in her voice, emphasizing her point with a more violent thrust of her cock.

"A-a bitch?" I managed to get out.

"What?" pumping harder, her voice higher.

"A bitch," I managed to say in full voice.

"What?" she fairly squeaked.

"A BITCH," I yelled, "I'M A LITTLE BITCH."

"WHOSE? WHOSE?"

"OH, GOD, YOURS, GIA! I'M YOUR BITCH! YOU'RE MY WORLD!"

We both surrendered to thundering climaxes. She had not even touched my cock after entering my ass. Slowly, we took up a position on the couch, with her spooning me.

She recovered more quickly. Even as she stood, went to the bathroom, and began to collect her things, I lay on the couch in a trance, except for my thundering heart. When she was finally ready to leave, Gia stood above me and turned my face up to her. She bent and kissed me on the lips.

"You're a good boy," she said softly. Then she added gently, "From now on, unless I tell you differently, call me G."

"Yes, G."

In retrospect, I realize that things had already begun to change before that night. G had been spending more time with her friends and away from the house. In the coming weeks, a handsome, African-American classmate, James, would often be around. Still, the first time G took me by the ass, surely marked a turning point in our relationship. Thereafter, I was no longer able to initiate any encounter, even dinner, with her. She was never mean or rude, but she would always smile sweetly and politely decline my invitation. Eventually, I stopped asking when I ran into her on the stairs - or rushed out of my apartment on some made-up errand when I heard her in the stairwell.

Of course, her distance only made me more attached and attracted to G.

And it did not mean the end of our intimacy. Although she rebuffed my dinner invitations, she would sometimes ask me to make one of her favorite dishes on a night she designated. Our conversations at those meals would be completely platonic, although she would sometimes off-handedly note a desire for a book or garment or other necessity, which I would dutifully bring her as soon as I could. Eventually, the pretense dropped, and she would simply - but always politely - tell me what she needed - groceries, clothes, her laundry picked up - and I would gratefully comply.