I never really thought my girlfriend was into anything beyond the usual vanilla routine. Blow jobs, missionary, and swallowing. That was our sex life for the first couple of months. She would moan, her face would tighten and clench, and she would cum all over my cock. So I didn't think too much about it. My brother would often probe me about what she was into, repeating, "Come on Marcus, give me the uncensored details," but I never had anything to report. He would always say, "No way dude, she's Asian, she's got to be into all that gross stuff or something." I would tell him he was stupid, insensitive, and childish. That would usually get him to shut up. But every couple of weeks, he wanted to know if anything had happened. Then one day, something did.
Michaela was born in Georgia and came to New York for school. I first saw her serving coffee at the Starbucks down the street from her residence hall. Even in her uniform I could tell how sexy she was. Short, voluptuous, and smooth as marble. She kept her black hair long, but cut bangs just over her eyebrows and tied the rest in the back, letting two strips hang down by her cheeks. She had plump red lips and a long slender neck. Michaela was femininity incarnate, and I wanted to have her.
It started out as a one night stand. I charmed the hell out of her with the smile I knew I could flash, and she seemed smitten. There's always a part of me that thinks it so unreal that I can attract women - let alone one woman - in that way. But every now and then, it happens. And I let my ego chew it.
We had pretty good sex back at my place, but once we were done we couldn't fall asleep. So I ordered a pizza and we stayed up watching old cheesy eighties movies, and got to talking. I've never been one to kick a woman out after I've had my way, but for the first time she turned out to genuinely interest me. She was an artist, and wanted to get into animation. She had a knack for caricatures, but knew how to replicate the styles of other given just a few days to practice. She was talented, that's what drew me to her.
One way or another, I did the same for her. She must have liked my writing style, because I showed her a few of my short stories that night and she was impressed. We went on a morning date when the sun rose, had sex again, and passed out for the entire Saturday. The next day we woke up just at dawn, and decided it would be fun to keep dating.
It wasn't long before we started making little animations together, with me writing a page of script and her spending hour after hour drawing it out. To make up for how much work she did, I acted as sort of a director. It never really involved re-doing anything, but I would describe a few things and keep track of her progress to see that she was carrying out what I envisioned. We had so much fun doing it that it just never really stopped.
With the amount of time we spent on these projects, we didn't have sex too often. She didn't disappoint, but she didn't impress either. I usually just relied on the size of my penis - an exact nine inches with a decently proportionate thickness - to do all the real work for me. It worked for her, so I never really did anything special. Thanks to her long neck, she was able to take about half of me down, and it was always fun watching her work. Her lips looked great wrapped around me. And that was it for a while.
Then one day after animating, she said to me, "Is there anything extra I can do for you in the bedroom?"
"Why do you ask? Don't I look like I'm having fun?"
"Of course silly," she tapped my shoulder with a lightly clenched fist. "But I've been thinking."
"As we humans tend to do," I said. She always play hit me when I was sarcastic like that. I thought it was cute, so I did it often.
"I want to do something special for you. But I want to surprise you, okay?"
"As long as it doesn't involve my ass," I said. But then I remembered what my brother always asked, and the small part of me that worried it might be true added, "Or the toilet."
"Gross," Michaela cringed. "One of my exes was really into piss, I didn't get it. But I respected it."
"You must of loved him," I said. She shrugged.
"Maybe I love you," she said nonchalantly.
"There's no maybe about it," I said, and pulled her into my arms. We kissed gently and I said for the first time, "I love you."
**********
That was the last I heard of it for some time. A month passed, and she hadn't brought it up again. I wondered just what it was that she was preparing, but my curiosity lost that battle and I made no effort to find out. It would be better as a surprise, I knew. So I ignored it and left it out of my stream of consciousness.
Thanksgiving was coming up, and by some strange chain of events our respective families agreed to spend it together in New York. I was raised in Long Island, so it wasn't a big deal for my side of things. But Michaela was from Georgia, and her parents - defeating the stereotype - were not big on travel. But there it was, laid out perfectly. Thanksgiving in my apartment, the first time our families would meet. Not just that, but the first time we'd meet each other's families.
I told her about my obnoxious brother and she warned me about her twin sister, much like her in several ways except shame. Evidently Geena had no humility whatsoever, and made it everyone else's problem. I had the feeling Michaela exaggerated for my benefit, and I would need to decide for myself once I met her. After all, my brother probably wouldn't be disgusting or rude to her face. He was a salesman, he needed composure and presentation to survive.
A few days before Thanksgiving, I came home from work - the dying print publication I wrote articles and stories for - and thought I was alone. Usually Michaela was in class this time on Mondays, and I had a few hours to prepare dinner for us. Now that she was in her sophomore year, she was out of the dorms and in with me. I didn't mind at all.
When I walked into the bedroom, my heart jumped and skipped a beat just at the unexpected presence, but then did it again when I saw what she was doing. She was completely naked, on her knees, and fellating a suction-cup dildo secured to the full sized mirror that served as a sliding door to the closet. She was going up and down on it, looking herself in the eyes as she did so. I must have yelped when I saw her, or maybe she saw me in the mirror, because she stopped and turned around with an excited smile.
Her hair was tied in the back, and the strands hung down at her cheeks, just like the first time I saw her. Her ass rested on her bare feet, and her knees were together, making her smooth legs parallel. I could see her breasts from the side, but in the mirror got the full frontal view of her hard, brown nipples sitting perfectly atop soft, supple breasts.
"I've been practicing for you," she said. "I thought you wouldn't be back for another hour."