My girlfriend is like a box of chocolates.
I never know what I am going to get.
I had begun to wonder whether she was bi-polar. This made things even more confusing, because it was not in a bad way. Its not like the "other" personality was exceedingly crazy... just maybe a little bit. Despite my instincts to run for the hills, there were just too many things which made me stay. Although pensively.
My name is Clint. I am not nearly as studly or cool as the famous actor my mom was apparently infatuated with when she named me, but I am no slouch either. I am just over six feet, I work out so my musculature is well defined, just not buff. I evidently do not look like I got hit in the face with a shovel, as I get hit on fairly frequently. Considering the nature of the story, I suppose it is pertinent to describe my "equipment." I've never measured it (is that strange?) However I am happy with it. Nobody has ever compared me to John Holmes, but neither have they called me pee wee. Past partners have described me as "comfortable." Not too big, definitely not too small. Several have commented on the large flared head... which I had assumed was normal until I began to wonder if it had an appreciation club all its own.
My girlfriend Suzanne is a mousy little natural ginger... her red hair draws immediate attention. Then her bright green eyes and freckled nose and face enrapt me. She is petite, which makes her 34-B's appear larger than they are. They too are spattered with freckles, which turns me on to no end. She is smart as a whip, and loves sex. Yes, I have hit the jackpot.
We met at the library. A meet cute thing where she was trying to climb up a shelf to reach a book and I grabbed it for her. It happened to be the same book I was looking for. I did the chivalrous thing and handed it to her, but that started a conversation about like interests. Which led to our first date.
We went on multiple dates and really clicked before sex even entered into the picture.
But when it did... wow.
We had been out to dinner and a movie, then ended up back at my house, a remodeled fifties era home in a quiet neighborhood.
We began kissing in the living room, which we had done several times before. As I held her close, Suzanne looked dreamily into my eyes and whispered, "It's time, Clint... please make love to me... I need you..."
My heart soared, my manhood, already erect, throbbed.
I'm sure I could have initiated things a couple of dates prior. I had just never developed the ability to read subtle signals that a woman was receptive to my advances. I am not wimpy (I can more than hold my own in a fight) but I am also not aggressive.
I was more than happy to let my lover take the lead. Although I knew that as a result, I had missed out on countless opportunities with women who did not want to appear slutty for doing so. Which never would have crossed my mind. And it certainly did not now.
I fumbled with her blouse, and she giggled as she took over and removed it for me, tossing it onto the coffee table. She did the same with her bra, letting her beautiful breasts jiggle free before me for the first time.
Those freckles, their firmness, her small but absolutely erect nipples awed me. They caused me to overcome my hesitation. I dropped to my knees to put me on their level, kissing, suckling, and caressing them.
She sighed, giddy at my overwhelming need for her. "Oh, honey, carry me to your bed, please..."
I might've had to be told, but I did not have to be told twice. I picked her up in my arms and carried her to my bedroom, laying her gently onto the edge of the bed. She was wriggling her jeans down over her well shaped hips... this time I helped her without hesitation. I grasped her light red panties, which accentuated her complexion, and slid them down and off.
She had small, taunt genitalia... her nether lips were shaved bare, and already glistened with her arousal. She had left a well trimmed muff of auburn pubic hair above, seemingly to compliment her freckles and show the carpet matched the drapes.
I had a tendency to require leading, but this should not be mistaken for not knowing what to do. The vision before me, her scent, her passion, drove me.
I dropped to my knees by the bedside, lowering my mouth to her sex. She tasted as good as she looked. She felt even better against my lips.
I grasped her butt in my big hands and suckled her labia, eliciting a moan of pleasure. I traced them with my tongue, outlining them. Then I drove my tongue into her like a small cock, trying to lick upwards towards her G-spot. I knew I could not reach it, but the sensation had the desired effect.
"Ohgawd... Clint..."
Next, I began bathing the hood above and her clitoris with my softened tongue. She groaned and repeated my name again. When she impulsively began pushing herself back against my mouth, building towards her release, I acted to send her crashing over the cliff.
I covered her entire mons with my mouth, pointed my tongue, and began lashing her bud up, down, back and forth. No, I did not spell out the alphabet... I love eating pussy... and have lots of practice. I read her reactions, her motions and vocalizations and manipulated her in response until she levitating her hips off of the bed and screaming in orgasmic ecstasy.
"Fuuuuuuck! Oh, Clint, YES!!!"
Ladies always cum first. ALWAYS. It was the one thing I insisted upon.
I would normally let my lover relax, then begin to build them back up to another series of orgasms... and again and again. And when we grew accustomed to each other, I would return to this habit... she would come to expect it.
But this, our first time, she was insistent. Her hands were pulling me upwards, urging me to climb on top of her.
I had never undressed. I had to stand and quickly pull my clothes off as she writhed on the bed. "Please, please, I need you in me..."
I lay over her and placed my huge cock head at her entrance. I slowly began moving it up and down, being gentle. She was having none of it. She wrapped her legs around me and forced my shaft into her in one fluid motion.
"Ungh... wonderful! Take me... TAKE ME!"
Long, smooth, rhythmic strokes, then relentless pounding... lifting her legs up and back, positioning her so my flared head drove repeatedly across her G-spot and drew her clit in then out.
She was thrashing about beneath me uncontrollably, trembling and screaming as she experienced multiple orgasms. She clutched the sheets tightly, then my biceps.
I may not be a superman, but I do not lack for stamina. When she came down from her high, I slowed my pace and lay closer to her. I kissed her breasts, the nape of her neck, her mouth.
Soon she was ready again and began pistoning against me again. I held my position, holding our kiss while I began pounding into her... hard. This time I planned to go over the top with her, and she sensed it.
Her fingernails dug into my back as she came... and that is all it took for me. I groaned and roared as my own orgasm joined with hers.