Hindsight
By john84611.
She was at least her claimed 5’11”, with blue eyes, long blonde hair, a pretty, well-made-up face, and an athletic build topped off by amazing D-cup breasts. It helped that I was one of the taller men in attendance. That was clearly a requirement for Eileen, as she rebuffed several shorter guys when they asked her to dance. And a little beer always helped me be less shy than many guys in chatting up women.
We flirted a bit during the party, and she stuck around until I was done helping to clean up, getting to know each other like a first date, so I offered to walk her home.
She shared that her roommate was away for the weekend, making it crystal clear she was interested in hooking up. She invited me up to her dorm room and “signed me in” as required for her all-girls dorm.
In getting to know each other, she shared that she’d attended an all-girls Catholic prep school, and that she’d ended her year-long relationship with a boy she’d been dating from an affiliated boys’ school who was now attending college over an hour away. I was thrilled that this beautiful girl was interested in me. In my drunk and horny state, I didn’t appreciate that her obvious desire to hook up was an unexpected contrast to the all-girls dorm choice and single sex high school experiences.
Once in her room alone, we stood and kissed. She resisted when I invited her to move to her bed. That seemed strange, but she continued kissing passionately. She passively allowed me to start exploring her body as I undressed her, still standing.
Her breasts were remarkable – big, pert, and perfectly proportioned, with very sexy tan lines from the summer. But they didn’t seem to bring her much physical pleasure when I touched and suckled them. She had to help me slide her tight jeans off, and I was blown away by her sexy figure, wearing lacy pale panties and sexy bikini bottom tan lines.
She rejected another suggestion to move to the bed, but didn’t resist me sliding her panties down and caressing her mons. I’d never touched a natural blonde’s pussy. I found the wispy light hair in a perfect triangle to be more attractive and exciting than the couple of brunettes’ bushes I’d experienced.
At this point, we got my pants off, and she started fondling my hard cock. I was exploring her crotch, and when I penetrated her with a finger, I found her to be very wet. I’d had limited sexual experiences in high school, and only one experience of intercourse. So I was elated at the idea of getting my dick into this unbelievably pretty woman, who seemed very turned on.
Very quickly, she stopped kissing me, lubed my cock with saliva from her hand, and then, to my surprise, turned away and bent over, pulling my now wet member to her back door. As we were about the same height, we fit well together, and after just a couple of slow strokes into her, holding her shapely cheeks and kissing her neck, she was ready for me to thrust quickly.
I didn’t last long enough to need more lubrication before I came and withdrew from her ass. She turned around, continued kissing me in bursts, and pulled on her panties and jeans. At that point, it became awkwardly clear that it was time for me to go, so I dressed and walked home. In discussing with friends what all-girls school culture was like, I figured her choice of anal sex was the product of fear of pregnancy and probable church/girls’ school misinformation.
A bit later in our relationship, I put together that Eileen was still officially with the guy at another school, but ready to break up when we’d met. The night of the party, she had decided she wouldn’t “cheat” by having sex before she ended that relationship, but didn’t want me to think she was a tease; she claimed her good Catholic upbringing somehow influenced that.
I didn’t understand then why anal sex made sense to her as a good alternative, though. I was pretty sure my dick was average or a little bigger, so it was likely to be uncomfortable for a partner receiving anal, I figured. She wasn’t a big fan of giving head, and I presumed that, as a taller person, maybe her ass was proportional and better able to be penetrated than smaller women. Looking back, I wonder if she fondled my cock to see if it was going to expand any further, and then realized it would fit easily in her ass when it didn’t, achieving her goals of getting me off and avoiding giving a blowjob.
After the first night, Eileen and I started dating and hanging out regularly. Like many young and only sort-of committed couples, we’d spend many weekend nights together, but had many nights apart with friends or when studies required a sober weekend.
We had sex frequently, enjoying quickies when the opportunity presented itself, not just when we could spend the night without roommates present. We experimented with all kinds of positions and locations – fucking in the library, dorm, public spaces, and on the golf course.
But one big thing was missing after several months together. She’d never had an orgasm with me. In trying to talk about getting her off, she reassured me she’d had exactly one orgasm previously – with the high school boyfriend on a beach trip after graduation. She didn’t share details about the actual location, technique, intoxicants, or positions, so I naturally figured that “the beach” had made the difference.
During the second semester, I was hanging out in Eileen’s room one afternoon when her girlfriend, Sally, stopped in to introduce us to her boyfriend from home, Frank. We were sitting on a low couch watching TV when Sally and Frank came in, so our eyes were at their crotch level, and they stood close because of the small quarters.
The guy was obviously taken with Eileen, who was dressed in a loose, cutoff T-shirt and baggy gym shorts. He tried several times in our short conversation to impress her with his car, job, and other accomplishments. We chatted a bit and made plans for both couples to go to an off-campus party together the next weekend. While talking, Frank nonchalantly adjusted himself by putting his hands into his jeans’ waistband. I notice that in shifting his junk, his member imprint on his pants was longer than his hand was wide, even though it was at least semi-soft.
“Good for Sally,” I figured.
After they left, Eileen excitedly asked me, “Did you see how big his cock is!?!”
I mumbled a reply and felt more than a little humiliated, but admired how sex-positive Eileen was by sharing her reaction to his size.
The threat from that experience set me on a mission to give her an orgasm and prove myself worthy. I also felt budding jealousy at Eileen’s subsequent eagerness to be around Sally and Frank, including several nights she spent with Sally at her parents’ house close by without me. But she reassured me that she was loyal and happy with me alone.
I read up on giving oral sex, intercourse positions that work better for women, and what drinks/drugs help sexual pleasure. One book suggested that it would help someone with religious guilt around sex for a partner to “go first” with acts that created anxiety for a partner. I was eager for oral sex, so I began to offer to go down on her frequently, even when intercourse was off the table.
The plan worked somewhat, and she seemed to enjoy getting head while also becoming more comfortable with giving oral as well. But she completely refused to swallow, and wouldn’t discuss it.
Her approach was to avoid my cum, and if she failed, to quickly spit my spunk into a tissue and rinse her mouth. The “go first” approach also worked with mutual masturbation. I’d jerk off for her, and after a while, she’d touch herself for me too. She wasn’t successful in reaching orgasm that way, but I studied the way she touched herself and thought I’d learned some of what manual stimulation she liked. Despite the lack of orgasms, Eileen seemed to really enjoy our sexual encounters, initiating often and rarely refusing me.
Into sophomore year, we were still together and still very sexually active, but still with no orgasms for Eileen and no swallowing. After a hot session that ended with me cumming in her mouth, I whined about it and said that I’d do anything for her if she’d swallow.
She spat my load into a tissue and, after a pause, said, “Ok, I’ll swallow, but you have to go first!”
I was elated! “All I have to do is swallow one load, and she’ll indulge my desire every time after that! How bad could it be?” I thought.
Our next night together ended in what had become a favorite position. I was on my back with her to my right side, my mouth on her tits, and her left arm around my shoulders. We took turns stroking me, and as I got close to orgasm, she’d pull her knees up to my ass, so my knees raised and I curled into a bit of a cradle position. It made me feel very aroused and more than a little submissive, especially when she’d whisper into my ear, “cum for me, baby,” or “good boy,” while stroking me to completion.
That night, when I said
“I’m close”, she whispered.
“Tonight’s your turn.”
She moved herself into position in fits and starts that seemed like stalling in hopes I’d squirt some seed before it could land in her mouth. Then she put her mouth on the head of my cock. I managed to hold off and had an amazing orgasm, filling her mouth with my seed. She stayed in position, still stroking my shaft with the head of my cock between her lips.
When all the waves and contractions ended, she pursed her lips and moved to kiss me. She slid her tongue between her lips and then mine, taking my jaw in her hand and coaxing my mouth open while turning my face toward the ceiling. It was a decent size load for me. Not huge, but too much to be diluted by the saliva already present. The taste was salty and weird, but no worse than things the average fraternity pledge gross-out foods I had to eat in a typical hazing encounter.
I swallowed the load and showed her my empty mouth. She smiled broadly and went to rinse her mouth the way she always did, then wiped my dick dry with a tissue. She asked me to stay the night. We turned in, cuddled in the narrow twin bed.
In the morning, we both woke up horny, touching each other eagerly. After a bathroom stop and a quick brush of our teeth, we stripped and got right to missionary work. I was elated to have met the requirement for Eileen to swallow all my jizz in the future, and didn’t last long thinking about “owning” her that way.
As I got close to cumming, I hopped out of bed and held my cock to her mouth. With a sour look, she opened her lips, but didn’t use her hand or mouth to stimulate me. I didn’t much care, and jacked myself, carefully keeping my cock head lined up with her mouth, cumming a modest load, with the last few pulses falling short on her cheek.
She smiled, maybe sardonically, and swallowed before grabbing a tissue for her face. I was in heaven. I went back to my dorm with a spring in my step, looking forward to her swallowing all of my swimmers on the regular.
Later that week, Eileen’s new roommate, Robin, was at her upperclassman boyfriend’s for the night. After finishing our schoolwork, I went to her dorm, eager for a repeat of the swallowing performance. After a welcome kiss, Eileen told me about the quasi-bachelorette party the girls in the hall had given Robin upon learning she was unofficially engaged.
It sounded like an excuse for a girls’ night, but involved going to a male strip club and an adult store to “equip” Robin for a life with one partner. Eiieen produced the big gift the girls had chipped in to buy – a John Holmes replica dildo that was at least ten inches long, in an oddly vague cardboard box.
After dishing about the other girls enjoying the strippers and getting private dances, Eileen tucked the dildo into Robin’s dresser, and we watched a bit of TV before lights out.
I was eager to enjoy my well-earned cum swallow after a quick session, so I stripped Eileen and went down on her in the now usual way to get her turned on. Once she was ready, I climbed on top and started thrusting away, staying above the sheet so I could move my cock to her mouth when I was close to cumming.
I was so looking forward to her swallowing that as I approached climax, I moaned into her ear, “It’s so hot that you’re going to swallow my cum!” She reacted by moving her hands from my back to the front of my shoulders and firmly pushing me away with a frowning, quizzical look.
“No, now it’s YOUR turn again,” she said. As the misunderstanding dawned on me, I was crushed and lost my erection. She sensed my shock (and my soft cock) and said, “We can still use tissues, if you don’t want that,” with a look of genuine concern.
I realized she didn’t agree to swallowing all my loads if I swallowed one, to prove I knew the feeling. She agreed to swallow just once, and set the price if I wanted that in the future, at swallowing a load of my own cum first. Somehow, my fervor to have her swallow faded, and we went back to spitting and pulling out thereafter.
Eileen’s birthday was coming towards the end of the semester, and I’d determined I’d go all out to make an orgasm her big present. I planned to decorate her room with a beach theme, play beach music, get her drunk on beachy drinks, and promise her I’d focus on making her feel good until she climaxed. I arranged with Robin to stay with her boyfriend, and told Eileen we were going for a nice dinner to celebrate.
Eileen had more experience with fancy dining than me. Her summer job had been as a “greeter” at a fancy multi-brand car dealer in the city that focused on BMWs. Eileen’s tall, blonde, and buxom appearance was on-brand for a German car dealer, and she learned quickly how to behave with rich businessmen and did a lot to help close sales, she said. She went on long test drives and was often treated to nice meals both in the city and in the countryside by customers and car salesmen. I didn’t think she did more than flirt and be eye-candy, but she did get some big “commissions” even though she wasn’t really selling cars.
So I had to dig deep to afford dinner at the nicest place in the college district, just to impress her. That was on top of the money I spent on decorations, booze, and music. The central piece of decor was an 8-foot-long image of a beach scene that I mounted right alongside her bottom bunk. I decorated the top bunk with tiki torches and fake palm leaves.
When we entered the room, I donned a Hawaiian shirt, started the mix tape I made, and poured her my attempt at an Orange Crush – our nearby beaches’ standard summer drink. I was confident that “the beach” was the key to Eileen’s orgasm and really hoped that I’d done enough to bring that magic to her dorm room. She seemed to enjoy the environment and was eager to get to the sex.
I undressed her and said
“We’re just going to focus on you; it’s your special day, so we really want you to come. Don’t worry about me.”
She seemed pleased by that and lay back, pushing my head to her pussy. I started gently and teased her lips, trying to incorporate all the directions she’d ever given me on oral:
“Don’t go straight for the clit”, “Lick my lips softly”, “Keep going just the same,” and “Put your fingers inside when I’m all wet.”
After fifteen minutes or so, she said
“You can fuck me now.”
I said, “No, I want to stay here until you feel good. I’ll do anything you tell me.”
She moaned a bit and pulled my mouth to her clit and said
“Suck it gently.”
A few minutes of that got her hips gyrating in a way I hadn’t experienced before. I thought we must be on the right track, and the beach theme is working! She then instructed
“Put your finger in me again,” and responded with a groan when I did.
After just a couple of seconds, she said
“Another one…” and responded with longer, slower hip thrusts.
I was getting neck and wrist cramps from the position, but I was committed to getting her off. She was clearly more turned on than in any of our prior sessions and was feeling good.
She lustily said, “Another finger.”
I looked up to see her face in bliss – head thrown back on the pillow, eyes closed, her hands on her big, beautiful breasts and hips making wanton circles against my mouth and hand.
I had four fingers into her pussy at this point, with her labia in contact with my palm. After enjoying that for a few minutes, she said:
“I want more,” with the sexiest desperation I’d ever heard.
But I didn’t know what to do. There was no way to get my thumb involved, and my palm seemed far too big to penetrate her. I tried to get my other hand in position to use those fingers inside her, but I needed that hand to prop myself up. I thought about getting her to turn across the bed, but with her height, the wall with the beach image was too close to keep her ass on the bed.
Then it hit me. Robin’s dildo might work. I told Eileen to wait one second and went to Robin’s dresser, finding the box in her underwear drawer tucked away with some sexy lingerie. The room was mostly dark, so I figured I’d surprise Eileen with the toy, but she was still in the moment, eyes closed, legs spread, and touching her nipple with one hand and fingering her pussy with the other.
Pulling the dildo from the big box, I wondered if it was so big it might not fit in her at all. Eileen hadn’t opened her eyes, so I lubed the John Holmes replica with spit and rubbed the head on Eileen’s dripping labia. She withdrew her hand and coaxed “John” into her with short pulls on his shaft. Eileen became more vocal, expressing pleasure at being penetrated with the dildo’s head. She was mostly moaning, but managed a few one-word expressions – “Good”, “Mmm, yes”, and “More!”
I was still worried about the dildo’s size, so I took it very slowly, using very short thrusts and advancing slowly to allow her to stretch to accommodate the toy inch by inch. Her hips were gyrating in time with her moans until the dildo was inserted a bit more than the full length of my cock. The portion of the toy outside her pussy was the same length as me, and about twice the diameter. I was sure she couldn’t fit any more of it.
I returned to licking her clit, which brought happy sounds from Eileen’s mouth, and I continued until the awkward position required adjustment. I thought it might help her cum if we kissed to slow things down and reconnect a bit before I started thrusting the dildo and licking her again to reach climax.
I put her hand on the dildo shaft and moved to kiss her mouth. The kiss seemed to reignite her passion, so I continued French kissing and tickling her nipples for a few breaths. Feeling ready for the “final push”, I ended the kiss and stood next to the bed to move back between her legs.
Her knees were pulled up and spread wide. Both of her hands were on her outer labia, and her index fingertips were joined on the bottom end of the dildo, the rest buried inside her. She allowed the dildo to slip out a few inches and reinserted it quickly with her fingertips, reacting with deep moans and hip movements.
I watched in disbelief as all of John Holmes disappeared in her, then slid out and back in again. Eileen’s obvious pleasure hadn’t diminished at all from the level I’d attributed to my kissing.
Then her legs straightened, her hips stopped rotating and thrusting, and she made a new, deeply satisfied sound. I hadn’t touched her after breaking our kiss, and thought I should keep my distance to avoid interrupting her pleasure. After nearly a minute of stiff legs and the sight of her pussy pulsing rhythmically, she withdrew her hands, and the dildo slid most of the way out.
Eileen was wiped out and remained silent through the end of one song and into another on the stereo, eyes closed, catching her breath. I asked if she’d like something to drink, and she requested water.
I stood, removing the head of the dildo from her, which elicited a disappointed groan, and retrieved a cup. When she’d come down from her high, she went off to the bathroom to get ready for bed, taking the dildo to be washed. I cleaned up the room and bit and stored some of the decorations, pulling up the sheets for our night’s sleep. Eileen returned and snuggled into the bed.
I whispered to her, “I guess the beach IS the key!”, thinking that my decorations, music, and drinks had gotten her in the mindset where orgasm was possible.
She asked, “What do you mean?”
I was baffled, and said, “You told me your only orgasm was with your old boyfriend at the beach – I figured the beach was the key to making you cum.”
She giggled and replied, “I wondered what the theme was about!” Then she got quiet for an uncomfortable stretch. She turned toward me, leaned up on her elbow, and said
“Look, I lied about that a little. I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t have orgasms or something. I mean, I don’t have them often, never with you, and not even when I play with myself most times. But the truth about that trip to the beach and me having an orgasm is that, well, I cheated on my BF when he passed out and the guy had a huge dick,” she confessed.
“My high school girlfriends all called this guy ‘Horse’. We pretended it was because he ran the steeplechase on the track team, but really because his cock was almost as big as Robin’s toy.”
She patted my crotch in a gentle but somehow demeaning way and drifted off to sleep.
In the morning, Eileen gave me a quick handjob, but as I reached the plateau, she took a ruler from her desk and measured me. I was sure her technique underestimated me some, as she calculated I was 4.5″ long and 1″ in diameter. She smirked a little, but resumed stroking me, and the embarrassment quickly subsided.
After I came into her mouth, she spat my semen into a tissue. Then she measured the dildo and returned it to Robin’s dresser drawer. She said
“John Holmes is 10″ long and 2″ in diameter – more than TWICE your size!”
I was taking an engineering math course and immediately realized she was wrong and that the truth was far worse. With great shame, I said
“Well, actually, the volume formula for a cylinder is radius squared times pi times length, so I’m about 4 cubic inches, and he’s 32 – that’s 8 times bigger.” I think Eileen smirked, but didn’t respond.
I quickly dressed and left, thinking of nothing else for the rest of the day but the fact that my pee-pee was 7/8 too small to get my girlfriend off. I felt like it was over for us, and that I’d never live up to what she wanted and needed.
Finals started with a reading period, and Eileen and I talked some, but didn’t get together before the dorms closed. I was incredibly horny, but too scared to tell her about feeling inadequate, and wasn’t brave enough to face her.
When I jerked off, I was thinking about the scene of Eileen having buried the huge dildo in her pussy with great delight, and me not really contributing to her pleasure at all. The humiliation made me cum. That created a distance between us that continued to grow.
She didn’t seem disappointed that I didn’t pursue sex or time with her, but she remained friendly, talking on the phone almost daily, without treating me like a romantic interest. At some point over the break, I’d started calling her “my ex.”
[Chapter 2]
The next time I saw her in person was during the next semester. A mixed gender group of my friends was out drinking and got the idea to visit the college town hot tub establishment after stopping for a cheap cooler and cold beer. A transfer student, Dave, had fallen in with our group and was along for the evening.
The hot tub business was open very late, with many “tubs for 2” available, mostly for sexy times. Most students joked about what must go on there, but few had actually paid to try the experience.
When my group walked in, Eileen was working behind the desk, looking great, and dressed in a black one-piece swimsuit and boat shoes. She gushed that it was good to see me and came around the counter for a hug and kiss on the cheek.
She greeted the others in the group that she knew from our time dating. She seemed a little flushed, and her voice was a bit deep and slurred. It was after midnight, so I assumed she was just tired from the late hour. I concluded from her attitude that she’d missed me and was less happy about the relationship fading than I thought, which felt really good.
When she stepped back behind the counter, Dave turned to me and quietly said
“Holy cow, who is that?!”
I replied, “My sort-of ex.”
His eyes lit up in disbelief. Obviously taken with her beauty and amazing body on display, he said, “You must have a huge cock, man. Unbelievable.”
If only he knew I was 7/8th short of that.
We paid for a “party tub” for 8, although there were 10 of us. Our hour was scheduled to end when the business closed. Eileen said groups like ours were common customers and told stories of the football team, local celebs, and much older groups having wild times behind closed doors that she had to clean up after.
She gave us towels and said clothing is optional. We hadn’t brought swimsuits since this was a spontaneous event, so the girls kept on bras and panties, and most of the guys stripped. I kept my boxers on, planning to take them home in the provided wet bag, preferring the razzing I got about being shy to confronting my recently acquired worries about the size of my manhood.
Our group had 4 women and 6 men, so I thought it was clear no sex would be happening because of the odd men out. Of course, the drinks, warm tub, and scant clothing turned our group into 2 couples fucking in the tub and 6 of us pretending we didn’t know what was going on. The fact that 2 girls tossed their panties on the deck and sat on 2 of the guys’ laps made it more obvious, but the rest of us tried not to stare.
Eileen came in to let us know the time was almost up and that she was closing up. She lingered, watching the 2 couples with a grin and waiting by the tub room door, apparently to discourage any stalling on our part. We turned off the tub, dressed, and were filing out when Eileen said to me.
“Stay in here.”
I waited as she let our group out and locked the outside shop door for the night. She came back into the tub room and was again a bit flushed and seemed a little high. We embraced and kissed, and I was instantly hard, going commando in my pants and touching her body in the thin bathing suit. She was clearly interested in getting laid. She dreamily said
“I’m on liquid ecstasy – want some? The owner keeps it around, and I really like it.”
That explained her mood, I guessed. I thought the drug that I’d never tried might help me repress the humiliation I’d subjected myself to on her birthday and improve my courage and performance. She giggled and retrieved a bottle with a little dropper. She put a few drops into what was left of a remaining beer, and I chugged it.
Eileen lay down next to where I stood on the padded deck next to the “party tub,” slipping her suit straps from her shoulders, exposing her amazing boobs, reclining on her elbows, and pulling the crotch of her one-piece to the side. I knelt, dove in, and started licking her.
She was more vocal than I’d remembered her being about oral, and seemed very responsive to the touch of my hands on her ass, inner thighs, and tits. The air in the tub room and Eileen’s wet swimsuit smelled strongly, pool chemicals, I assumed, which diminished the taste of her pussy that I fondly remembered.
She was muttering things softly, but I’m pretty sure she said things like
“You’re so much better at that…” and “That’s really good afterward…”
I didn’t understand her, but assumed the drug had her a bit disoriented. When I pulled my head away to change positions and get my fingers inside her box, I saw that her pussy lips were engorged and creaming.
‘Liquid X is a great drug!” I thought.
Eileen was watching me, propped up on her elbows with her eyes half closed and head back.
She purred and said, “It was hot watching your friends fuck in front of the rest of you…”
I wondered how she knew – we’d had the door closed and the rooms were not brightly lit – and must have looked at her quizzically.
She slowly smiled and said, “I watched you on camera. All the tub rooms have one…”
She continued, “I think you like Liz, don’t you?”
She kept smiling and gazing at me. “I could see how you watched her with Harry.”
Referring to them as one of the spontaneous couples who seemed to enjoy some lap-sitting sex. “You can take your frustration out on me, though…” Boy, I liked the version of Eileen on Ecstasy – she was like a dream come true, and didn’t seem worried about my struggles to get her off. My dick was as hard as it had ever been, and the drug was kicking in for me, making me feel really horny and high.
I mounted her on the cushioned pool deck and loved the familiar feeling of her body under mine. She continued being vocal about her pleasure, which turned me on even more. After a couple of minutes, she started thrusting her hips up into me. I couldn’t remember her doing that before. Her sweet little moans and groans escalated, and she grabbed my hips, forcing me against her while she ground her crotch into mine.
We’d been going at it for longer than our usual sessions, but the Liquid X and my all conflicted feelings about Eileen, my cock, and our breakup kept me from climaxing. I tried getting her to change positions, but she deferred, and seemed to focus inward, closing her eyes and playing with her nipples while actively thrusting against me and pulling on my hips in time with her thrusts.
Then her hips slowed a bit, and then I saw a disappointed look come across her face. She stopped pulling on my hips and pushed them away from her. “I know what you want…” she said in a way that was both sweet and condescending. She turned on her left side and patted the mat next to her.
“Lie here,” she said. I moved up so we were side by side, and she put her left arm around my shoulders while pushing my mouth to her breast. She took my cock in her right hand and stroked me a few times, eliciting a deep groan from me, and then bent her knees to put me into the cradle position she’d used regularly. I came immediately, flooded with feelings of being nurtured. “At least we got that over with before you asked me to swallow,” she said, chuckling.
She began wiping up my substantial load from my stomach and chest with her fingers, and her touch felt like a massage. She looked me in the eyes and opened her mouth, gesturing for me to do the same. I was in a wonderful place thanks to the drugs, but I resisted.
“I only did that once,” I said, referring to my one-swallow misunderstanding. She got a warm smile that turned into a smirk. “Well, you’ve tasted other guys more than that…” and wiped my jizz onto my cheek.
I objected, “No, I haven’t! I’ve never given a blow job!” She slowly put her hand to her pussy and then brought it up to my eyes. “What do you think that is?” she said. She had what was unmistakably cum on the finger she’d wiped on my cheek. I realized that the smell I hoped was pool chemicals when going down on her was partly the chlorine or bromine smell of the tub water, but it was also cum.
I was confused and also horrified. “That’s not the first time, either..” she said, looking away demurely. I opened my mouth, Wipartly in shock, to question her further, but couldn’t find any words.
She must have taken that as an invitation and started spreading the cum she’d wiped on my cheek past my lips and onto my tongue. I felt humiliated and crushed, but also had a massive rush of arousal.
“There you go,” she said, with both condescension and kindness. I remained at a loss for words. Aileen uncoiled from me and let me recline on the pad. Still on her elbow, she stared into my eyes and said wistfully, “I cum soooo good with liquid X, I thought that might fix our ‘little’ problem…especially after the boss already got me off tonight.”
She continued, with resignation, “But I guess I just need one as big as his, or Horse, or Frank, or Robin’s stripper.” It dawned on me slowly – “Wait, you fucked them while we were together?” I asked.
She smiled again, “Yes, baby. I really like you, but that’s not enough in bed,” pointing to my penis. “Did you really believe my story about only cumming once? Some of the guys at the car dealership believed that, too, don’t feel too bad,” she shared.
With that, she pulled up the swimsuit straps, centered the suit’s crotch over her labia, took a deep, resigned breath, and turned away. She stood and started cleaning up the room without talking to me or looking at me. I tried to kiss her after I dressed, but she turned her cheek, saying “Eww” curtly while rejecting my embrace. I felt like she’d played with me in her drug-induced rapture, and now disconnected from me entirely.
I spent the walk home thinking about the implications of the truths I’d just learned. I was feeling pure humiliation, from confronting the truth that night, but also the truth about me from my whole relationship with Eileen.
Maybe I’m just a cuckold or a fag or a submissive, or some weird combination of all that, I thought. Those thoughts didn’t just make me feel diminished, though. They turned me so much that I had to rub one out the moment I got to my dorm room.
I was on the verge of cumming within a few strokes, and I paused out of confusion with what was coming up in my head. A thought crossed my mind, and then I pushed it away, but couldn’t focus to resume stroking. I struggled with the thoughts and feelings of my new status and reality.
Then I took a deep breath and committed to the truth, holding my left hand in front of my cock while I gave a couple of strokes with the right, aiming my cock head into my palm and catching the big load I squirted as my heart pounded in my ears.
After squeezing out the last drops, I slowly brought my left hand to my mouth as my thoughts crystallized. I knew what kind of guy I really was.
The End.
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