Sure. I might be fucked up, but I'm not stupid. I know when it started... and I know why I probably have these feelings. It all began with Bess, an old girlfriend in college. On our second date, she more or less TOLD me that she wanted to have sex. I'd never done it before... and I told her that. But, instead of being upset or impatient by my inexperience, it seemed to really turn her on. She started telling me exactly what to do... where to touch, and stroke and lick. She really took charge; not just with the sex, but with the whole relationship. And, she was almost brutally honest.
She let me know right away that I wasn't as large, equipment-wise, as the other guys that she'd been with. But oddly, that didn't seem to be a big deal with her. Instead, she taught me how to lean forward when I was on top, trying to get as much pressure on her clit as possible. When she was on top, or when she wanted me to take her from behind, or in her ass, she told me how to touch her to bring her maximum pleasure. She wanted to do it every other night, no matter what else was going on: exams, or doing things with other friends, or even her period... nothing else mattered to her as much as sex. She even ordered me to stay at school during Spring Break so we could continue our "schedule."
We were three or four weeks into our lovemaking when she suddenly produced a pair of handcuffs. After she stripped me and rode me to my climax, she forced me to eat her to orgasm, too. She'd done that to me before... asked me to do that after I came inside her. But she'd always made it a request up until then. Now, it was a command. Of course, I never hesitated.
And the next time... the very next time... she brought along another guy. She didn't produce him until I was already stripped and handcuffed, and she'd put me in a chair... ATTACHED to the chair... so that all I could do was sit there helplessly and watch. She introduced us. I'd seen him around campus, but I'd never met him, and I can't even remember his name now. He was a previous boyfriend, she told me, who had been hounding her recently to get back together... at least for a one-night-stand. And, she told me, this was it... this was his night.
He seemed reluctant, at first, doing it in front of somebody else; but soon she had stripped down, naked; and she began to taunt him. "You can have me any way you want me," she told him. "But you have to do it here. You have to do it now." Of course, she DID have an eventual stipulation. "Don't you dare cum until you have made me cry out," she said, menacingly. "You don't have to give me an orgasm, but you have to do it hard enough to make me cry out." And... he did... after a while.
Bess kept up a running commentary the whole time. She'd said it loud enough for me to hear clearly... in fact, all of her words were obviously directed specifically to me. She'd say: "Oh, Terry, he's SO deep inside me... much deeper than you've ever been. He's filling me up SO much!"
But, through it all, it was obvious that HE was the one in charge of the coupling. Eventually, she almost wailed: "Oh, Terry, I wish he would do it harder. I wish he would hurt me. But all I can do is submit to what he's doing. HE'S the one in charge... not like you and me." And he'd just keep on going, his cock a piston, in and out of her, like some kind of human engine that never runs out of fuel. He started out on top; but after a while, he flipped her over and started in from behind, and she'd never resist in the least. Through it all, she kept talking: "He's doing this to me," and "He's doing that to me;" until finally, finally, he seemed to sense his impending end was at hand, and he began getting rougher. I knew... we all knew... that he was only fulfilling her precondition to the coupling; but now, he was pounding her. Hard. She actually seemed to resist giving voice to her pain and degradation, but eventually, she was forced to cry out in screaming, humbling humiliation and supplication.
They collapsed together in a sweaty, panting heap in the center of the bed, and they stayed that way for a long, long time. At last, she simply sighed and said: "Get out Ralph," and he appeared to shrug, despite their position, and he got up and left without another word.
She came to me then, and spent almost a minute getting the handcuffs off of me, because her hands were shaking slightly from her ordeal, and she led me over to the bed and drew me onto its surface. I squirmed a little, because I was lying in a wet spot, but she insisted I stay there as she mounted me. After a while, she bent forward, pressing her breasts into my chest, and she whispered directly into my ear, making me shiver.
"What does it feel like, Terry," she asked. "He was SO much bigger than you, and he stretched me all out. I think he came an awful lot, too. More than you do. It must be like fucking a stick of warm butter." She started nibbling my ear. And, sensing my impending climax, she ordered me... the way she ALWAYS ordered me. "Cum for me, Terry. Cum for me now." And I exploded. Harder than I'd ever cum in my whole life, before or since. No, that's not accurate. Because, I came with Lily tonight, just before we came here, at least as hard as that. And, last Saturday, too, after the devil-worship orgy thing.
HERRINGWICK
Let's keep it all in order, Terry. We'll talk about that later. What happened in your relationship with Bess?
TERRY
It changed. Several times, in fact. A couple nights later, during our next "scheduled" lovemaking, she arrived already full of another man's spunk. She made me touch her the way I knew she liked, getting her closer to her sexual peak, and she touched me too, keeping me sort of on a sexual edge for a long time. And then she told me about the guy she had just been with... what he'd done, what he'd said, what he'd demanded from her. She wanted me to eat her to orgasm, but I refused. That really surprised her; however, she didn't push it... not then, anyway. Finally, she made me mount her, in the missionary position, and she whispered in my ear, telling me how much better the other guy was, until ordering me to cum. When I had, she told me again to use my mouth, and this time, I did, though reluctantly so. Afterwards, when she had recovered from her orgasm, she told me that she wanted to try it with two guys at once.
But, this time, I utterly refused. No, I told her. Absolutely not. That was a line I would not cross. She seemed to study me for a long time after that. But she never said another word about it. She never asked again. I was greatly relieved about that.
Things kept up that way for a little while. Every other night, she would show up, exhausted and dripping from an encounter with another guy. And, she would tell me all about it... every little detail, while keeping us both very close to orgasm until she reached the part about how it felt to have another man cum inside her. About two weeks later, she called up and cancelled our sex for that evening; and she did it again two nights later.
She showed up at my apartment unannounced a few days afterward and told me it was over. She was extremely candid about the whole thing. She had met another man, she said; someone who was even "wimpier" than I was. That was the term she used. But this was the guy, she said. This was the man she was going to marry. She loved him, and she loved controlling him. She could make him do "a-ny-thing." She stretched out the word that way. Then, she told me that she owed it all to me... that she'd never have known what to do if she hadn't tried it all out with me first. She said that I'd really been a wonderful lover, and that she'd never forget me. She shook my hand. And she left.
I threw myself into my studies, and then into my work. I never even asked another girl out on a date until the day I met my wife. I fell for Lily like a ton of bricks, instantly and totally. She couldn't have been any more the opposite of my first lover, even if they'd been created by some design. Lily was meek to the point of almost being helpless. She NEEDED me; needed my guidance and protection and advice. And she seemingly loved me, as well; to the point of agreeing to anything I wanted, anything I desired. On our fourth date, when I told her I wanted her sexually, she simply said yes. I'd already told her that I'd been with a woman before, but that only seemed to excite her all the more about the prospect of surrendering herself to me physically. And it just got better and better. She told me that she'd had a sum total of zero experience with physical love. I later found out that she didn't even know how to masturbate! But I could coax an orgasm out of her almost effortlessly. It was as if she'd been built for sexual excitation; not only mine, but her own. Everything we did gave her pleasure.
My problem didn't really surface until after we were married. It seemed to take me longer and longer to reach my sexual peak, until I finally found myself becoming soft before I could finish. At first, I found I could excite myself by imagining Lily doing what Bess had done: being with another man just before coupling with me. But... Lily is petite, small, in almost all ways. There was no convincing myself she was anything at all like "fucking a warm stick of butter." She was tight and sensual and almost virginal, even after months of sexual pleasure. She, of course, knew there was something wrong. I found that I simply couldn't keep a secret from her.
And, she tried, of course. She would ride me, female superior, and press her wonderful body into my own, and she'd whisper in my ear. "I wonder what it would be like, Terry. Would another man be different? Would another man fill me up more?" And, that did it. For a while. Until..."
HERRINGWICK
Let's leave it there for a minute, Terry. Just relax and be calm for me, please.
TERRY
Okay. Sure.
CHARLIE
Holy crap, Randy! This is... um... really something! I suppose you have a professional term for this, too.
