Research And Analysis 02 Together

Why were my boobs so sensitive? I don't know why but I can tell you how. Each nipple is like a second..well, and a third...clitoris. That's not denigrate the utility of my clitoris, which worked very well indeed, but each nipple bud sends"zings" into me that make me squirm and twitch with pleasure. Stimulating one nipple and then the other doubles the number of "zings" and stimulating them both together turns up the voltage on the "zings". The real coup...the trifecta, if you will...is in a threesome when I am having my clitoris licked by one person and my nipples tweaked by another. That guarantees s high voltage orgasm! (I can hardly type, thinking about it!)

Now, as you may recall, I was conflicted about the status of my sexuality. Should I consider myself, a) only lesbian, b) hetero-sexual with lesbian tendencies, c) bi-sexual or, not out of the question, d) pansexual and poly-amorous?

Decker helped me figure it out with wisdom beyond his years. It also didn't hurt that he didn't mind having sex--such as we did-- with an older woman. Of course, I had no problem whatsoever having sex with a younger man...who would? The answer was straight out of the "The Thoughts of Decker": What do you want to be today? I don't need to be really in any category, I found; If I enjoyed sex, so be it!

But, let me take you back to that coffee date a few months ago....the question having been popped by me, "...do you want to have sex?"

"But we can't go to the frat house to have sex, Lin. What do you suggest?" Deck responded to my blunt offer of sex, with a calmness that belied his enthusiasm.

"So, it's one of these 'It's-got-to-be-your-place-because-it-can't-be-mine' things?" I teased, Decker. "I've been there before...but that's another story."

I was fully in the mood to have sex and I didn't want either my ardor--or Deck's ardor, for that matter--to wane. We were at least 30 minutes from my apartment facing few alternatives. Thank goodness for cell-phones. In less than five minutes I had booked a room at a motel which was less than five minutes away. In ten minutes, or so, Deck and I would be rolling around on the bed.

"I've got it covered, my dear," the "my dear", I sugared-up, "let's take my car. I'm right outside."

"That's a good thing," Deck said, with some relief, "I don't have a car!"

As Deck and I left the coffee bar, the tip-worthy barista gave us a look...more of a look at Deck than at me...and smiled. I didn't smile back...but Deck did!

My estimate was off. It was more like fifteen minutes than ten before Deck and I were getting naked in the motel room. As I was undoing my pants, it occurred to me that nobody had seen me naked since...well...since Darlene three years ago, and man hadn't seen me naked in more than ten years. I chalked my nervousness up to that but I knew it was more than that.

Having sex with Darlene was different than having sex with Nawel, my ex-husband. I know that sounds like belaboring the obvious but, truly, my feelings were a lot different with each of the two. Darlene, as bossy as she co was, could be quite gentle when it came to sex, a "woman's touch" one might say. Nawel, was also bossy, as was his ethnic heritage, but one could hardly call our sexual activity in any way "romantic"; he was essentially demanding and uncaring.--traits that eventually spelled the demise of our marriage. Darlene, at least had my pleasure in mind when we had sex; that was hardly a consideration for Nawel. What was it going to be like with Deck? He looked like a jock; I just hoped he didn't make love like a jock.

I've described before what I look like. I am an "ectomorph", in other words, skinny. And I don't have any boobs to speak of...remember 34AA, or smaller? And, yes, I do look somewhat "mannish"; although I don't think I try for that look, it's there. As I got naked, I hoped that Deck wouldn't think I would be like being with another man and that would turn him off.

Anyway, I got myself naked, gave it what I call the "Venus" pose--like in the classic painting-- one hand over my snatch and the other covering my boobs, such as they were. I walked over to the bed, and sat down looking at Decker.

Decker was down to his boxers and, as he slid them off, he turned to his front to face me directly. Well, you can bet, the first thing I noticed was his penis. What can I say? It looked pretty nice to me; a nice size and shape--don't ask me for measurements--uncircumcised. It wasn't limp but it wasn't hard yet either. I judged it to be suitable to fit in my vagina, though there hadn't been a real one in there a long...long...LONG time.

I also noticed something on his left leg. It was scar tissue starting the side and disappearing around the back of his leg. It dawned on me that Deck faced when he got his boxers off because he didn't want me to see all of his scar. I didn't press the issue. I dimmed the lights and held out my arms to signal that I was ready to have him in bed with me.

"Shall we?" I said gently, partly out of politeness but partly out of wondering if Deck still wanted to have sex with me.

Looking me in the eyes, Deck said, "But, of course!"

It took me all of ten seconds to realize two things, 1) that I was doing the right thing and, 2) that Decker knew what he was doing. I sighed, outwardly from Deck's gentleness; inwardly with relief!

He sat facing me on the edge of the bed, leaned toward me, and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead...just a peck really. He pulled back and gazed into my eyes and I could feel myself start to melt; then another warm kiss to my forehead but firmer, lasting longer this time. His hands went up to either side of my face, and he held them there as he kissed my lips, again a soft, warm kiss, not passionate or forceful. His kisses moved from my lips, to my cheeks, to my, chin and back to my lips again. He moved his hands to my shoulders and, while caressing them, leaned in kissed my neck. He was slow and deliberate, no hurry, no pressure, no force behind his attentions.

He had me at his kiss to my forehead, I could feel my body responding, tingling; I knew my breathing was getting harder but I tried to suppress it. I began to feel my tension being drained away and replaced with a feeling as if I were beginning to float off the bed. The tingling was getting more pronounced; I knew that feeling, my body being as sensitive as it is, but not like this...never before like this, that I could remember.

Decker's hands moved off of my shoulders and lightly caressed my skin until they reached my hands. He took my hands in his, and holding them, he leaned toward me again, his lips meeting mine. His tongue slipped between my lips and the passionate kissing was ON! Our tongues played with each other, doing a dance with each other, teasing in and out. I felt the thrill rising in my body. I didn't need to check, I felt my vagina getting moist...moist? No...WET!

With the slightest pressure from him on my arms, Decker and I wound up lying on the bed, on our sides, still kissing. We separated, positioned ourselves fully on the bed, and continued our love making. With nibbling kisses, Deck moved his way down from my lips, to my chin, to my neck, and finally to my chest. When he got there, my fear arose of what he will think of a woman with hardly any boobs. From what I felt, it didn't seem to faze him whatsoever.

His tongue and lips went from nipple to nipple, teasing, kissing, sucking, and applying ever so gentle pressure. Remember the "zings", well they started to happen in swarms. That floating feeling I had began to turn into a thrills, and spasms...gentle at first...but building...building...And then he stopped....just plain old fucking STOPPED. AAARRRRGGGHHH! HE STOPPED!

I felt his lips move down my body, to my tummy, to my navel, and down to my pubis just above my bush. He paused there for just a moment, and then he worked his way into the sparse hair--I'm not a hairy girl--that concealed my vagina. I knew what was coming, at least I hoped it was coming. I parted my legs as to tacitly give him permission. I don't think he was thinking of permission but I am sure he was reassured.

My parts "down there" are...what can I say..."Neat"...my labia are tucked away, my clitoris doesn't bulge, and my vagina does not present a large opening. I'm not small, but it might look that way. I have a wonderfully elastic vagina. It won't accommodate a guy with a donkey dick, but Nawal, who had an average sized cock, never complained--about that anyway--and the legitimate dildos that I and my girlfriends used--not the joke ones-- easily accommodated.

With the pressure of desire building inside me, so did the lubrication in my vagina. I know my body and I both knew that; if I looked, I would be able to see that wetness already be starting to seep its way out. I didn't look. I just stayed on my back, eyes closed, legs apart, waiting for Decker to find his way to my clitoris.

Decker, that tease! His lips and tongue probed around every part of my pubis and the inside of my thighs as if to say, "I'm looking....I'm looking...it's here somewhere...I'm looking," when I felt the tip of his tongue ever so tentatively slide its way between my labia...and then out again. Tease! And then his tongue worked its way farther in, sliding up and down and back and forth. I felt his hands spreading my things farther apart to affording him better access to--and I'm sure a better view of--his target. And, "bull's-eye" he hit that "target.

I just about levitated from the bed the sensation was so intense. I said I don't have a big clitoris but it is ultra-sensitive, like my breasts--like my whole body, for that matter--especially now when it was being stimulated to a point that was almost unbearable. The "zings" had become "ZINGS" and they were coming so close together that they seemed continuous. And his tongue played with my clit relentlessly.

My back was arched, my hips were undulating, all my muscles were taut. My hands grasped the sheets on either side of me as if I were trying to hold myself down on the bed. And still his tongue worked my pussy and clit. Just when it seemed to me that I was going to lose all control, there would be the slightest let up, instantaneously replaced with greater tension.

I couldn't be responsible for what escaped my lips. I writhed and moaned and out-and-out squealed, but he wouldn't stop. He held me firmly and kept at it. And it wasn't the force of the pressure of his tongue that was doing this to me; paradoxically it was the lightness of it...flick...flick...flick...tease...tease...tease. With each sequence my need for release grew but didn't come until...

IT DID! It let go all one once, finally...finally...I could feel all of the energy escape my body in one rush. What I cried out I can't remember. Decker later told me that it was the inarticulate expression of inexpressible passion. I felt my vagina spurt liquid and I felt Decker's tongue licking it up. Then I went limp, totally limp, lying there with the waves orgasm ebbing and flowing. They didn't need any help, no manipulation. It was like gently floating in the ocean, the rhythm of the sea consoling me.

Decker remained still and I didn't move until I felt an exquisite thrill to my clitoris.

"Stop, Decker!" I pleaded, "I can't take any more!"

"I've stopped, Lin. I'm not doing a thing...except breathing," said Decker, his head still between my legs, "just breathing...that's all."

I realized what was happening. My clitoris was so sensitive now that even the slightest breath was giving me a thrill.

"Decker, my sweet boy," there was pleading in my voice, "would you be good enough to distance yourself from my clitoris? In fact, move your face..and everything attached to it...up here so I can give you a kiss...if I still have the energy!"

He did just that and our kiss was long and deep and passionate...and...yes...tasty!

Snuggling after an orgasm! What could be better than that? I mean other than the orgasm itself. It was all delicious. I had my head against Decker's warm, furry chest and he had his arms around me. I was really only half awake. The exertion of my orgasm wore me out. Decker was...well...he was...patient.

"Decker, sweet Decker Smyth," I murmured to him, "there aren't any words to tell you how I feel right this minute. Heavenly? Does that work? Heavenly?"

"Well, for want of better words, those will do nicely. And I must say, Lin...and I'm being honest here...I have never seen such a profound orgasm from a woman as I've just seen from you. I may not have words enough to tell you, either," his voice was mellow.

"Not to be analytical...but then again what do you expect, I'm an analyst," I regained my ability to speak coherently, "what happened I think, aside from you being a demonstrably skilled love maker, is that it has been so long since I have had an orgasm with a partner and that coupled with my dismal outlook, set the stage for what you saw. Champagne in a bottle is under pressure; pop the cork and..voila', spurting bubbles. Kind of like my orgasm, huh?"

"That's a good way of putting it, Lin," said Decker, still mellow with a little hint of devilishness, "are you ready for another one? I think I can arrange that...if you're willing."

"Decker! You must be kidding," I was and acted startled, "that last orgasm nearly took me from this earth! I am so tender and sensitive there, and my whole body too, that I wouldn't want you to be responsible for doing in an old woman like me!"

"Well, it was worth a try," He said, as he kissed my forehead, "I thought serial orgasms were one of the benefits of being a woman. I'd love to see it with you."

"Serial orgasms? Serial orgasms?" I answered, my mock astonishment not being so mock, "what, pray tell did you think you just witnessed? I had an orgasm, on top of an orgasm, after an orgasm, and another orgasm on top of that...and repeated as much as possible. That WAS a serial orgasm...par excellence! And it's YOUR fault!"

"Sure, sure, sure, blame it on me," he whispered in my ear, "it's the best candle that makes the brightest flame, I just lit the match."

"You devil, Decker! How did you get to be so romantic? How did I get so lucky?" I cooed back.

"What can I say, I was inspired!" said with another kiss on the forehead, "so...we should sleep now, I suppose?"

In a way I didn't want to spoil the mood, and I'm a practical woman, so I said, "Maybe for a while, Deck, but I've got work tomorrow and I suspect you have school. You're not too far from the frat but I'm a long way from home. I don't think we can spend all night."

There was a note of something in his voice I couldn't put my finger on when he said, "Yes, yes, I understand."

A couple of minutes later, Deck rolled away from me and sat up on the edge of the bed. I saw him looking around until he located his clothes. He started to get up and head in their direction.

"Deck, I didn't mean we had to get going right now," subtly pleading, "c'mon back, lie down, let's cuddle."

I don't know why I didn't think of it before and, when I did, it was like a splash of cold water. I had been so caught up in his making love to me...in my orgasms...that I hadn't even considered that perhaps he deserved an orgasm of his own. With Nawel, it made no difference if I had an orgasm--and I rarely did--as long as he did; with Darlene, despite everything else, when we had sex we both had orgasms, perhaps not exactly simultaneous, but roughly.

But I had a dilemma. I sat there with my vagina and clitoris so tender from his sex play with me that fucking him would really be out of the question. On top of that, I didn't find performing oral sex on a man particularly appealing. Yes, I gave Nawel blowjobs because he demanded them; what I didn't like about giving blowjobs in the first place was made worse by his demands. Now What?

"Decker, Decker, Decker, you are such a sweet man," I put extra sugar in my tone, "please come on over here and sit with me for just a few minutes. I'm sorry, but I really can't get enough of you tonight!"

"Oh, O.K., Lin, sure," Decker sounded subdued and in a way resigned, "what would you like to talk about?"

"C'mon up here, soldier, let's sit and talk a little." I said as I pointed to the headboard.

We sat up there, against the headboard, my head against Decker's shoulder. We were still both naked. That didn't bother me and it didn't seem to bother him. As I talked, I lightly stroked his chest hair, every now and again brushing against his man nipples. It seemed to soothe him.

I started off, asking, "Decker, how old do you think I am? Seriously, and don't give me the "26" answer, the one guys tell every woman because they know that if they're wrong the woman won't hate them. Y'now that one? Because if they are younger, they will like you for making them think they are mature, without being old; and, if they are older they will like you for thinking they are younger but not immature; and if they are really old, they will think it's a joke. So, guess...how old am I...honestly...what do you think?

He looked at me, brushed my face with his hand, and said, "Lin, you ARE 26! Am I right?"

I gave one of his chest hairs a pull, and he winced. I giggle/squealed, "NO, silly. Really, really, really. how old do you think I am?

"All right, you are...." he hummed as he looked at the ceiling, "29...29/30...tops... O.K., my bet is down!"

I silently swallowed a little hard before I answered, "Decker, if you had socks on, I'd tell you to hold on to them. Decker, I'm 39 years-old...39...and not that far from 40, Decker!"

I could tell I surprised him. Now, I've never considered myself pretty--acceptably looking, perhaps, but not good looking. I do have the advantage of having a nice complexion, smooth skin, no wrinkles which are all a give of my Asian DNA. Even at my age I've remained pretty free of age markers. It's understandable that Decker might have missed the target but being ten years off shocked me.

Well, it shocked him too, I could tell, but he was too much of a gentleman to react in a shocked way.

"Lin, how surprising! You certainly don't look anything your age and, actually, not even the older ages I guessed. I really had my money on 29. You are astoundingly youthful looking!"

What a remarkably kind person this Decker fellow is," I thought to myself, "where was HE when I decided to experiment with men?

"You are too kind, Deck," is what I actually said, "but let me go on. I feel younger today...tonight...than I've felt for ten years. That's what you've done for me. Now, I want to do something for you."

With that, I moved my hand down from his chest, to his stomach, and to his penis which was nesting in his thicket of pubic hair. It was flaccid, as limp as I think his spirit was when he concluded her wasn't going to get sex tonight for himself. I turned so I could kiss him on the cheek and began to massage his cock at the same time. My kiss on the cheek went to a kiss on the lips; and his cock went from limp to semi-hardness. My kiss became passionate tongue play; and cock got hard, shiny hard!

I pulled away from my kissing and dropped my head to his chest, then to his stomach, and then to just above his cock that I was still stroking. With my head against his body, could his breathing getting deeper and faster. The more I worked his cock the more excited his breathing got. I'm anything but an expert on men's orgasms and it had been a long time since I had to deal with one but I knew what was coming--no pun intended.

There's always a moment of decision, especially for women giving hand jobs. "Do I turn this into a blowjob?" With as much of a dislike as I cultivated about this, it made my decision exceedingly more difficult. But life is made of difficult decisions. As with many difficult decisions, timing is extremely important, therefore, as I had at a modicum of experience with male orgasms, I recognized that Decker's orgasm was not far away.