The bedroom was filled with the constant yet broken sounds of bed springs squeaking under the rhythmic thrusts of a man into his woman. But it wasn’t the bed making the noise; it was Cindy who groaned intermittently with sharp, feminine ‘coos’ and ‘ahhs’ that were neither exaggerated nor too quiet to discern. Matching her steady pattern of moans and no doubt causing them was the driving of Carl’s rigid seven inches into that sweet spot between Cindy’s thighs.
His smooth, slippery flesh invaded her over and over, but her hot, constricting body more than welcomed him.
Cindy wrapped her long, slender legs around Carl’s hips and crossed her ankles behind him. On each of his powerful insertions, she raised her own hips to meet him, making sure she felt all of him, and that he could touch all of her. When he bent down to kiss her, she pushed her small but confident breasts together with her arms and arched her back so she could press her hard, dark nipples full against his chest.
When Carl finally came and Cindy felt his heat pouring into her, she shuddered into her own satisfying climax.
But when it was all over and Carl rested his sweaty body onto her thin frame as he grew soft and slipped out of her, Cindy’s delicate pussy lips sucked at him for more. The sex had been great. The climax had been draining. Yet something just wasn’t right, and that didn’t make any sense to Cindy at all. She saw her confusion mirrored in Carl’s face. This wasn’t the first time this had happened.
Carl was married–not to Cindy. That was the first excuse the pair had come up with, each on their own, to explain why they weren’t fully enjoying themselves. But if guilt was the real reason, then they wouldn’t have been so excited to get together almost every other day since the affair began. Carl had actually come up with extensive plots to see Cindy and at the same time cover all of his tracks. In just a few weeks he had become so good at it that his wife still didn’t know he had seen Cindy, something all the more surprising since his wife–and neither Carl nor Cindy knew this–was aware of their first infidelity.
So obviously he wanted her, which left Cindy wondering if she was the problem. She had to consider that, because she had fallen so hard for Carl that first time, maybe she was distracted by the fact that, in the back of her mind, she knew he was married and ultimately unavailable. But Cindy also knew she was the kind of person who was more likely to get determined by this challenge rather than become depressed by the obstacle. And maybe that was just it; maybe she needed to try harder, and maybe he needed to show her that she had a chance at winning him away.
He slept in the middle of her bed on her lavender sheets, but she lay awake, resting her head on his chest while her fingers lazily explored the pubic hair covering his warm testicles. They were a mismatched pair; he was 34, had a career, a mortgage, and played the stock market. She was 19, a sales clerk at a hardware store, and spent most of what she made on clothes to wear to bars, where random guys unfailingly picked up the tab before picking her up for a nightcap. He was white, and lived in a white neighborhood. She was a Latina, and she lived in an apartment in the nicest part of the bad part of town. For the better part of an hour, she shook away those barriers and thought about what she could do to turn him. When his eyes groggily blinked open, a thought struck out of no where…
…She asked him to tell her every detail of his first time.
—
He struggled when he began the story, but as he went on, the words and memories became easier and clearer. This was a good sign, because it showed that his first time was something he wanted to remember.
He was 20, and being a virgin at that age was frustrating enough without all of his friends knowing about it. They constantly teased him, but they also tried setting him up every weekend. Carl just seemed to have a knack for striking out.
Being 20 and therefore not yet old enough for the bar scene, Carl often had to look for girls at illegal college house parties. That was how he heard about Heather. In the aftermath of one of the keggers, Carl overheard a conversation between some guys about this high school girl who they had lost their virginity to. Apparently she had earned a reputation for breaking guys in, which was exactly what Carl needed. He asked around about her, and discovered she was a senior at the same high school he had gone to–she had been a sophomore in his final year, so he might have seen her, but she didn’t become “famous” until after he’d graduated.
It was unexpectedly easy for Carl to set up a date with Heather. She made herself very available. Hours before their meeting, Carl was so nervous and excited he was shaking, and he had to take deep breaths as he drove over to her block to pick her up–funnily enough–on her street corner. After a nice dinner and a movie–things he’d been told were unnecessary but he did them anyway–they drove across town. They arrived at his aunt’s house, where he was house-sitting while she was away for the week, and therefore had the whole place to himself. This was a much better option than taking her to where he lived, which was still with his parents.
When they got inside, Carl found it difficult to make conversation or even look her in the eye. They both knew what they were there for, but Heather seemed indifferent to it all. She was very nice, but it was quickly evident that she had no personality, which made breaking the tension not only harder, but more important. The worst part was that, despite her experience, she made no effort to take the first step.
Still, she was good looking if not a beauty. She was very thin, and was as tall as he was at six foot. Her hair was past shoulder length, and a very light auburn. She had a wide mouth, big brown eyes behind stylish but thick-lensed glasses, and wore very little make-up. Her ass and her chest were nothing to boast about, but nothing to be ashamed of either. She really didn’t seem like the cartoonish, all-out whore he’d been expecting, which might have been a good thing if her submissive personality didn’t fit her looks. Carl had hoped Heather would solve his problem by getting things moving, but it looked like he was going to have to make this happen after all.
They sat in front of the TV in silence. She sat in his lap, but otherwise didn’t touch or provoke him. He just didn’t get it. Finally he decided to just make his move. Though he hadn’t had sex before, he had plenty of experience kissing. He hoped that would help things evolve. He kissed her, and she kissed him back deeply.
It worked, to a point. Her shirt and bra came off. Carl got his first taste and touch of tit and nipple. They moved things upstairs into his aunt’s guest bedroom. He was hard and his heart was pounding, but she still behaved as if they might be going up there to play her favorite board game. Sure, she looked like she was enjoying herself, but she seemed unimpressed at the same time.
They undressed in silence. He licked her pussy until his jaw hurt, but not only did she not orgasm, she didn’t even moan or root him on. When she sucked him, it was uninspired, as though it was a job she’d done often enough to even do it in her sleep. They fucked, but she barely moved when she was on top, and even less when he was. She turned her head and coughed a couple times during the session, further indicating her boredom, and those were the only sounds she made the whole time.
Not only was Carl disappointed, he was angry. Finally he had a sure thing, but that was all it was. Even the intensity of being naked with a girl and feeling her everywhere for the first time was fading, as was his erection. Using porn movies as his inspiration, he faked cumming into the condom, and the two of them cleaned up in relative silence.
They were at the door, his keys in his hand and ready to drop her back off, when something primal surged through Carl. He felt defeated and dishonored, and so he told himself ‘no’. It wasn’t going to happen this way. He wanted to do all the things he craved, everything he’d seen and heard about. He’d spent years of his life fantasizing about this moment, and this little whore had ruined everything! If she had been mean or unattractive, his urges might have gone away with the bad sex, but Heather had the potential to be a great lay. Her body was very nice, she was clean and fit and she did seem to like him even if she was faking it (and if she could fake that, why the fuck not an orgasm!?).
Carl had his hand on the doorknob when he finally just snapped.
“No,” he said aloud. “I want to try this again.”
Heather shrugged, nodded, and smiled, which might have been as good a sign as any. At least she didn’t think he was so bad that she needed to make an excuse to say no.
They sat back in front of the TV, her on his lap, their clothes on again, both of them silent again. He kept running his mind over everything that had happened to figure out what he could do. He just didn’t understand her. She was so…he couldn’t think of the word. And then it hit him. Passive. She was incredibly, tragically passive.
He decided to try something, his cock already swelling at the possibilities.
“Kiss me,” he said.
She turned to him, smiled, and kissed him. Her tongue flailed in his mouth, tangling with his own. His excitement at possibly having figured this out made him go for her with greater hunger and less self-awareness. Carl sucked on her tongue, and then she took her turn to suck his. Soon they were mauling each other, swapping spit, saliva running down their chins. He licked her neck. She still didn’t make a sound, but at least her breathing was a little heavier. He took her hand and placed it over the hard lump in his pants.
“Take off your shirt.”
She did, and somehow it was like the first time she’d done it had never happened. To Carl, he was losing his virginity all over again. His eyes fixed on her bra and her subtle but appetizing cleavage. He licked her there over and over. His fingers fumbled at the clasp at her back, but when he couldn’t get it, he stopped licking between her breasts just long enough to give another order.
“Show me your tits.”
She unclasped her bra and took it off. Her cute, pale B cups with the rosy nipples bounced gently into view. Carl couldn’t satisfy himself enough to suck just one. He went back and forth greedily, sucking and lapping at both of them, puckering his lips around the nipples, teasing them gently with his teeth, getting Heather’s chest so wet with saliva it was literally dripping down between her boobs and across her stomach. Still no sounds, but she was breathing heavier than ever.
“Let’s go upstairs.”
On that short journey up those two flights, Carl made a decision. Tonight he was going to get everything he wanted, and Heather was going to give it to him. But if he wanted this to last, he needed to exercise some control.
Back in the bedroom, he led Heather to the bed where they sat down next to each other.
“Take off your pants and lay back,” he said, keeping his voice firm but soft so as not to sound like the direct order it was.
Heather complied.
Carl slipped a hand under her pink panties, felt past her short pubes to her lips, and then began working a finger inside of her. She spread her thighs to help him a little, which was a nice conscious effort, but best of all was that he was making her wet. She watched him finger her as though she were watching TV, so he gave her another order.
“Play with your tits.”
And so she did. Heather palmed her small breasts and massaged herself, lightly pinching her nipples.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“Good,” she said, sounding genuine.
“Explain it to me.”
“It…feels good. What you’re doing.”
“What am I doing? Tell me.”
“You’re putting your…finger…”
“Say it,” Carl demanded gently.
“In my pussy.”
And then Carl pushed his finger deep, and Heather arched her back and moaned–actually moaned!–as she pushed herself against his hand.
“I’m fingering your pussy,” he continued. She nodded, biting her lower lip. “Tell me you like it.”
“I do. I like it.”
“You like what?”
“I like you fingering my pussy.”
“Would you like me to lick your pussy?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask me.”
“Lick my pussy.”
“Beg me.”
“Please lick my pussy. Please lick me! I want your tongue in me. I want you to eat me!”
That’s more like it, Carl thought as he kneeled beside the bed before her. He pulled her panties to the side and gobbled the soft flesh between her legs as if it was the first time, and in a lot of ways, it was. He had Heather continue to beg and swear, he told her to rub his head and push his face against her. And then he told her to start begging him to fuck her. That went on for almost ten minutes before Carl’s jaw started getting sore again and he finally stood up and yanked his pants off.
He fucked her good and hard. He held onto her thighs for leverage, and he kept his eyes either on her swaying little tits or her face which was suddenly showing some expression. Though not yet moaning, she was at least huffing and puffing, and she was begging him to go harder and deeper without having been asked. Best of all, she seemed to mean it.
Carl had been in Heather’s cunt before, but it hadn’t felt this way then. This time she was responding, even if she wasn’t going all out, and he had her complete attention. And as he felt himself building close to his first orgasm with a girl, Carl decided to try something else.
“I’m going to cum on you.”
“My stomach,” she said, her voice erotically unsteady.
“No, your face.”
She shook her head. “No, not my face.”
He nodded. “I want to cum all over your face.”
“Please don’t. Really.”
“Beg for it,” he pressed. When she remained silent, he said it again with more emphasis. “Beg for it!”
“I want you to cum on my face.”
“More! And mean it!”
“I want to feel you shoot your cum all over my face!”
“Will you lick it up?”
“Yes! I’ll lick your cum, too. Just put that shit all over my face, first. I want to feel it before I taste it.”
“You really want it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Give it to me!” And then she started to kind of cheer him on, calling out, “Cum! Cum! Cum for me!” over and over.
“Here it is, baby,” Carl said, suddenly pulling out as he felt the flood coming. The fire in his loins was almost too intense to bear, and when he climbed on the bed, scrambling to get over her, his legs actually gave way as the cum shot up his dick. He half fell so that his cock was right at Heather’s lips when he began shooting and jerking himself off. He screamed, and there was nothing for Heather to do but accept him. His hot sperm covered her face, smothering her nose, lips and forehead, splattering her glasses and streaming down her cheeks.
She kept her lips pressed tight, not wanting to ingest anything, but when Carl finally finished, got up off her, and saw this, he rubbed his hand into the mess he’d made on her and pushed his cum to her lips.
“Eat it.”
She fought by keeping her lips closed for only a moment, and then she gave in, licking up the jizz as he pushed it to her and smeared it further over her face. He even took off her glasses and had her lick the lenses clean.
“How does that taste?”
She gagged twice, and coughed once, but then spat out an answer. “Give me more.”
Doing this was making Carl so hot that he was still hard, and he knew he was ready to fuck again. As she sucked his fingers clean, he got back between her legs at the edge of the bed and directed his cock between them again, this time aiming lower. When he poked her ass, Heather jumped.
“No, that’s my asshole,” she said.
“I know,” and he very slowly pushed further inside.
“I don’t want to do anal.”
“Yes you do.”
“Oh God,” she gasped, he first real words of passion, and then she grabbed Carl’s cum smeared hand and forced it to her mouth and sucked and licked it vigorously.
This time he didn’t even have to tell her to beg.
“Put that dick in my ass!” she cried out, each successive word filled with more emotion than the last. “Fuck my ass, god dammit. Fuck my ass!”
“You don’t want to do it, do you?” Carl said, barely able to keep his cool as he popped his head into the impossibly tight crevice. While her cunt had been lose, Heather’s ass made it apparent that Carl wasn’t the only one losing some kid of virginity tonight.
“No,” she cried between slurps of cum. “I don’t.”
“But you’re still going to beg me, aren’t you?”
“Fuck! Fuck yes I am! Push that fucking dick up my ass. Oh God, you better fuck me good!”
Carl kept sliding inside her. Her body gripped him like a vise. “And you liked that cum, too, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Heather panted, her face twisted. “I wish you had more. I wish you would’ve cum on my tits, too, so I could eat that now.”
“You’re still hungry?”
“Yeah, and my fucking tits are dry. I liked them when they were wet after you licked them.”
“You liked my spit on your tits?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Carl leaned over Heather’s chest and spit right between her breasts. “You want some more?”
“Hell yeah,” Heather said, putting her hand into the spit and rubbing it over her boobs.
“How about your face?”
Heather just opened her mouth in response. Carl spit on her, and she eagerly licked her lips and smeared her hand in it again.
“You don’t like me spitting on you, do you?”
“No.”
“But you want me to do it again, don’t you?”
She didn’t answer, but instead replied with, “I don’t want you to pull my fucking hair, either!”
And so he grabbed a fistful of her hair with his cum-laced hand and gave it a yank.
“Oh fuck! Ow!” she cried out, and she clenched her ass so tight Carl thought she might pinch his dick right off.
He had to withdraw after that, not because she was too tight, but because even doing it on the edge of the bed didn’t afford the best position for anal sex. At least not when she was laying on her back.
“Oh God,” she said. “Are you gonna cum?”
He kissed her hard, tasting his cum and liking it, but liking even more that she kissed him back.
“No,” Carl said, breaking the kiss and pulling her up by her hair. “Turn around on your stomach so I can fuck you.”
She did as told, and he inserted her again. For a while things were quiet as Carl pushed his way into her pressure-cooking crevice until he finally began stroking into her. He made her beg for it again, and all the while he was going back and forth between pulling her hair to rear her up, and spanking her ass until it grew red. He felt his cum quickly building, but even his strong desire to make this last wasn’t enough to get him to stop. He fucked her and fucked her, harder and faster, all the while in total disbelief at how tight she was. Heather’s ass fit him like she was a part of him.
“I told you I don’t like you pulling my hair!” she cried, and so he tugged her again.
She reared back, thrust her ass back and contracted herself around him, and then he was cumming. Carl roared, put a hand on the upper middle of her back and pushed her face down hard into the bed. She screamed into the mattress as he went into overdrive, pounding her as he went out of his mind with pleasure.
“Don’t cum in my ass!” she begged. “Please don’t cum in me!”
He unleashed his seed into her body.
“Please don’t cum…” she began, and then she felt it. “Don’t cum in me,” she cried softly, defeated. “Not in me…not in me…” Her voice became barely a whisper.
Even after he’d emptied into her, Carl rammed into Heather for as long as he could stay hard. When he softened and slipped out and it was at last over, Carl was so physically drained that he just collapsed onto the bed next to Heather, who didn’t move at all except for her heavy but slowing breathing. She returned to her former self; quiet, unemotional, blank-faced.
During the many minutes of silence, Carl had time to think of what he had done and how he had humiliated this girl. He wasn’t a violent person. He was never dominating like this. He had always been the nice guy–usually the too nice guy. But now, at a time when he expected and wanted to feel truly awful, Carl couldn’t help but be turned on. It was so wrong. He might have actually been hurting Heather! Sure, he never threatened her, but that didn’t make what he did right. And yet he was growing another hard on already. He tried to ignore it, hoping it would go away.
Heather was the first to get up. She did so quietly, sitting up and turning to sit on the edge of the bed, and then slowly sliding down the side of the bed until she gently collapsed onto the floor. Carl felt so bad and was so scared that he was cold, sweating, and shaking, yet his erection remained.
When he finally had the nerve to look Heather in the eye again, he saw that she didn’t have that blank face anymore. This was worse; she had crossed her arms over her breasts, her face was red, and tears were dripping from her eyes as she gently weeped. He tried to come up with something to say, hoping that if it didn’t save his soul, it would at least save him from prison.
“I don’t want you to fuck my face with your cock,” she sobbed softly. And then, though for only a fraction of a second, Heather’s sad, horrified expression flashed him a genuine, crystal clear, excited grin…
As Carl finished describing his story, both he and Cindy came to their own revelations. He now understood what he wanted in life, and it wasn’t the rather boring sex his wife had been giving him. She had been good, but hadn’t allowed him to be himself, and if he ever showed her, she wouldn’t understand. He had fallen into a trance with his life, and recalling this event had stirred him awake.
For her part, Cindy now knew exactly what she had to do to win Carl over…and she became intensely wet at the thought of it…