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My Girlfriend

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I was totally in love with my girlfriend. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was struck by her strength and openness and honesty on our first date, which we had arranged after exchanging two short e-mails. We had met on an online dating site. Not the kind of site you’d normally expect to find real love, I might add. I had been hanging out on that site for a couple of months, going on endless numbers of useless dates, ranging from embarrassing drinks to mindless quick fucks that left me wondering whether I will ever meet someone I could really love. And then I met her. Rather, she met me, responding to my ad.

We went on a date, she laid all important facts of her life onto the table, some of which would have taken others months of casual dating to talk about. She was blonde but smart, tiny but strong, didn’t talk a whole lot, but when she did, she did with a sincerity and frankness I had never seen before.

Somehow during our first date in that bar in the East Village, she brought up the subject of sex. I wasn’t interested in yet another useless fuck, but I knew she won’t be one of those, and when we left the bar and walked by my apartment, it was only natural that she came up to my place, that we kissed and held each other, slowly undressing each other, discovering each other for the first time.

When we saw each other the next day, it was the first time I upset her. Thinking back, I still regret it. At the time, I had been dating so many women that, when she asked me whether I will have more dates with others, I naturally said yes. I acted as if this had been just like any other first date, when I damn well knew it wasn’t.

She told me later that she thought, “Well, fuck you then, I guess I’ll keep looking, too!”

It took me a day or two to change gears, and to realize I was being stupid. We both deleted our ads on the dating site, deleted e-mails and phone numbers of people we no longer were interested in – not like we had been all that interested in them to begin with – and we became exclusive. She moved in shortly thereafter, and I had never been this happy, and I know she hadn’t either.

When she was out of town for a few days or a couple of weeks, which happened a couple of times a year, I felt lost. Half of me was dead, really. I missed her company so much that I always wished I could just hide and sleep untill she comes back. Instead, I stroked my cock.

Two or three times a day, endlessly, thinking of her beautifully small tits, how her nipples always seemed so hard for me, her tight ass, the best ass on the planet, her lips and tongue licking me all over. My hand on my hard cock moved up and down, holding me firmly, moving more violently as I thought of the various times when her tongue had been licking out my ass, giving me more bliss than ever, imagining it’s her hand, not my own, that was gripping my hard cock tightly, imagining her rolling me on my back, sliding down my chest, then sitting up and slowly sliding her tight ass down to let it suck on my swollen cock, as she had done, to my great surprise, on one of our first nights two years ago.

Back then, I had been shocked by the sudden sensation that her tight ass had given my cock, which was slippery from her wet mouth, from her hot tongue licking and sucking me. Back then, I could only stare at her with my eyes closed, and I couldn’t come, as much as I wanted to. I was too overwhelmed by her, too struck by her presence, too much in awe with her. She was riding my hard cock with her ass, fucking me deeper and harder, trying desperately to make me cum inside her tight hot hole, but then she had to give in and give up, realizing that it won’t happen, that I won’t come, though hard as a rock as I was. I had been slightly ashamed, but it was all okay and nothing to worry about, she had assured me.

During those first nights, it happened fairly often that I couldn’t come. I wanted to, so badly wanted to flood her ass or her mouth with my cum, so badly show her how much she turned me on, thinking the more I come, the more she will know how happy I was that I met her. True, she asked a couple of times whether I was okay, so she apparently was a little worried about it, but it really was okay, and sooner or later, I became used to her body, used to the sensations, used to being overwhelmed by her, and I came and came and came. Not used to it as in bored, but used to it as in feeling completely one with her.

We fucked untill four in the morning and went to work the next day. I fucked her wet tight pussy from behind, her standing against my fridge in the kitchen. I licked her pussy, licked her forever and ever, sucking her clit, sliding a finger or two into her hot tight cunt, and a finger or a thumb into her even hotter and even tighter ass, untill she came hard and loud and strong. She loved to have her ass played with, and I loved to lick her out, loved to feel my tongue in her ass and pussy.

None of this changed much over time. Well, okay, canlı bahis maybe after a while we didn’t fuck till four in the morning every day anymore. Two years later, we fucked less often than we had used to, but still, we loved fucking each other, and if our sex life had stayed like that for the next 50 years, we would have been a very happy couple indeed.

Let alone that we got along great. We felt like we could talk about everything, we comforted each other, we helped each other, we talked about kids. We had never ever used any sort of protection, but she loved it when I came on her stomach or deep in her mouth or ass, and I guess I had always managed to pull out of her pussy just in time for her to watch my cum fly all over her tits or back. Every month, I was looking forward to her period, when I could fuck her hard and fast and as much as we could take it, and would cum deep inside her cunt, filling her up with hot juice.

She loved to fuck when she had her period, she was extra horny for my cock, and I loved it, too. I loved the way we were even closer in those days, I loved the way she was even hornier, always ready to feel my cock deep inside her pussy untill I would cum, and often, for a second round, deep inside her tight ass. I loved to feel her ass sucking on my cock as I massaged her clit, feeling her cum again, taking my cock into her ass as if it were lubed by a whole bottle of KY, which it never was. For some reason, her ass never needed lubrication. She liked to take my cock just like that, her pussy juices on my cock and some good breating techniques on her part enough to make it slide in with ease.

We didn’t talk much about sex. It’s not something that occupied her mind a whole lot, if at all. She rarely ever masturbated, she didn’t have any hidden kinky desires. She loved sex a lot, but it wasn’t of top importance to her. I read somewhere that men think about sex every fifteen seconds, on average. I know it’s true for me, and it wasn’t true for her, so it must be true. She told me she had had sex with a girl once, licking her out, getting licked out by her, but she didn’t really remember. She had been drunk and lonely at the time, she said.

I, on the other hand, told her of my highschool escapade with one of my best friends, and she didn’t mind at all, but laughed with me about it. He had been bi, and one day we had been watching porn, and I had gotten incredibly horny, and he had offered to suck my cock. I took him up on the offer, and came deep in his 18 year old throat, but never had the chance to return the favors.

I also told her about my threesome with two women, who had found me in a bar and took me home with them to let my fuck both of them while they kissed and sucked on each other’s tits. I told her that I loved it, of course, and she understood, but she couldn’t do that with me, she’d be jealous, she said.

“It’s okay, it’s just a phantasy,” I said.

When she left for another weeklong trip, she said that these were the times that in the past she would likely be having mindless sex with someone who impressed her. But with me at home, she alwyas ended up telling everyone on her trip how much she loved her boyfriend, and that kept any temptation away.

I told her that I’d rather have her have an affair with a woman than with a guy.

“The truth is,” I said, “that I understand that a woman would have a few things to offer that I don’t, but a guy…?”

Well, that would be different.

What I didn’t tell her was how hard my cock had become from that brief conversation. How much the thought of her tongue and lips, of her hot mouth on a woman’s hot wet cunt turned me on. The thought of my girlfriend sliding her pussy all over that woman’s tits and tongue made my cock ache, but I kept quiet.

What I also didn’t tell her was how hard I had gotten from thinking of another guy’s big cock driving deep into her dripping cunt. How much I got turned on by visualizing her cunt lips wrapped around that other guy’s hard cock, as it drives in and out of her. How I could see her pussy straddling his hard cock, her tight little asshole in the air, and how I could come just from thinking about how I’d drive my own cock slowly but firmly into my girlfriend’s ass, as she rides that other guy’s cock, as I feel that cock sliding against the wall in her pussy that separates his cock from my own cock deeply burried in her ass, rubbing against my own cock through her.

I didn’t tell my girlfriend how I could see her fucking another woman’s cunt with a strap-on, sucking on her hard nipples, while I drive my own cock into that woman’s hot mouth, into my girlfriend’s hot mouth, and back again. How I could feel her hard clit on my tongue as her cunt rides that other guy’s cock. A veiny large and thick cock, hot red with large shaved balls that I could suck on and lick up and down and up again to my girfriend’s clit, sucking her. A hard cock that I could slide out of my girlfriend’s cunt to lick her pussy bahis siteleri juices off, then slide it deep into my own throat and drive it back into her cunt, how I could drive a finger or two into the guy’s ass while that other woman drives her strap-on into mine, fucking my own tight virgin ass deep and slow untill I cum all over our bedsheets.

I did’t tell my girlfriend these things. Maybe I should have. But, you see, I loved her very much, and I wouldn’t want her not to trust me, because (or is it although?) she had no reason not to trust me. These cocks and cunts I saw us fucking and sucking were just that. There were no people attached to them in my mind, and in my mind they had a habit of completely disappearing as soon as they came.

But it was complicated – it is not a simple straightforward thing to make someone whom you love understand how you really feel – especially someone you love. So I kept quiet. I should have known better. I should have known that loving someone and keeping quiet don’t go together. But it wasn’t going to take too long untill I learned my lesson, and learned it the hard way.

It was late Semptember and we went on vacation to Key West. It’s still nice down there at that time of the year, we thought, and it was around my birthday, and we needed some sun and sand. A nice hotel with green walls and orange beds and a red bathroom and ceramic tiles, we got there and we knew this will be good for a few days, sleeping late, making love in the morning, and no plans for the day.

By evening on our second day, we woke up from an nap after having spent the day at the beach and the late afternoon fucking like new lovers. We weren’t really sure whether we should go for food or for drinks, so we just started walking around, then settled for an outside restaurant where the food was good, the service slow, and the people sort of hip.

Next to our table was a couple, who apparently were on their first date. He seemed to be a local, with a dark taint and blue eyes, very young, no older than 18, but a nice surfer chest.

His date was a joke though. We always loved to listen in on other people’s conversation and rolled our eyes at each other as she proved to be a real ditz from hell, going on about how much fun she had at the ESPN bar on Times Square when she went to visit New York, and how scared she was in the subway, and how she can’t wait to vote for Bush.

The guy must have caught us, as he looked first at me, then at my girlfriend, as if to apologize for his date’s idiocity. God only knew how he had ended up with that chick. When she went to talk to her daddy on her Disney cell phone (at least she got the fuck out onto the street), I responded to his apologetic smile, “Well, looks like you got a real winner there…”

Not that I cared, but he wasn’t offended, but he just shrugged, “Well we just met today at the beach, what can you do?”

Some casual smalltalk and introductions past, and my girlfriend and I leave for a walk.

“He was pretty cute, I would have thought he was gay, untill she opens her mouth and goes on about Bush…!” she says, and that is that for her.

“You liked surfer boy, huh? I thought so, too, at least bi.” I say, visualizing his strong cock in my mouth and seeing my girlfriend stroke her clit as she watches us, then adding: “She was a real stupid cunt though, I wanted to smack her. But he food was pretty good!”

As we walk down the streets, we pass a sex store, the kind of semi-dirty, semi-interesting store you wouldn’t actually make a point of visiting, but that you’d walk into on days like this, just because you have nothing else to do. Plenty of silly things to buy, little gadgets Made in China that probably made someone a millionaire, a whole selection of oils and books and silicone dildos and plastic vaginas.

My girlfriend looks at their porn collection, I look at their strap-ons. I am fascinated by one of them, a harness with a naturally shaped 7-inch silicone cock on the outside and a shorter, thicker cock on the inside, wondering how it would feel for my girlfriend to put this thing on, getting her cunt or ass filled with the inside cock, and slowly fucking me with the other cock.

“What the hell is that?” she asks me, looking at what I am looking at, before I have a chance to pretend that I am not looking at it.

She seems genuinely curious, as if looking at some new electronic gadget, or some carpenter tool she had never seen. My girlfriend always has great attention to detail and knows good craftsmanship when she sees it. This one was definitely handmade.

“Looks like a strap-on to me,” I say casually, “but I wonder where that inside thing goes?”

“Well, down there, for the woman somewhere, right?” she says, not really sure herself.

“Well, yeah, but where?” I ask, and before I finish that question, she’s over at the heavily tatooed lesbian behind the sales counter, asking her point blank, and quite audibly:

“On that bahis şirketleri strap on over there, where does the inside thing go?”

See, that’s why I loved my girlfriend. She just didn’t care what anyone thinks, she just asked what she wanted to know and said what she feels. I loved her for that more than anything else in the world. In fact, I envied her for it.

The lesbian chick, somewhat annoyed that she has to get her fat ass of the stool behind the counter, doesn’t say anything, just walks over and angles the strap-on off its hook on the wall.

“You wear it like this,” she says, holding the harness in front of her, “and so this thing goes into your rectum. It’s pretty cool!” and she hands it to my girlfriend and walks back to her stool.

“Wow! Amazing!” my girlfriend says – not so much about the orgasmn potential of the harness, but simply admiring the leather, its seams and buckles, and the material and shape and color of the two dildos.

I just smile to myself about her, moving on, knowing that she’ll spend a lot more thought on how the harness is designed than on how it would feel to fuck me with it. After all, she does work as a seamstress from time to time, it’s purely professional curiosity. I move on to the other items, some of them on sale, this weekend only, and squarely step on his foot. The guy from the restaurant is out shopping.

“Oh, hello there, what the hell are you doing here??” I blurt out, both of us off guard, hearing my girlfriend laughing her sometimes viscious laugh.

“Oh, well, just looking to see what’s here.” he lies, a porn video in his hand.

“Yeah, right,” my girlfriend says sarcastically to him, then to me “ok, we are getting this!” she holds two cheesy postcards of Key West in front of her, “Can I have some money?”

I wasn’t really surprised that she had put the harness back. The missed opportunity didn’t really hit me untill surfer boy from the restaurant laughs, “Wow, that’s a nice postcard…”

“I have no idea what’s going on…” I glance at my girlfriend at the cashier, then looking at the surfer boy, letting my eyes run down his chest to his crotch, thinking, “Do you want to come with us, do you want to cum with us, surfer boy, you have no idea how much I’d love to take you home with us, you have no idea…”

I am standing around awkwardly, waiting for my girlfriend, hoping that somehow she’ll strike up a conversation with surfer boy, that somehow one word will lead to another and somehow we will end up at home, where she will fuck my ass while I suck his cock while he licks her cunt while he fucks her ass while she rides my cock.

I catch myself staring at his crotch, or rather I get caught by my girlfriend saying, “Ok, let’s go baby!” and to surfer boy, who is turning back to the video section, “Have fun!” Yeah, have fun. Have fun watching that video by yourself while we write postcards.

Two minutes later we are in our hotel room, and I feel ill. I am in no mood to write postcards. I am in the mood to feel sorry for myself and to act like a little child. I am in the mood to sleep and hide and cry. Of course, my girlfriend notices right away.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Oh nothing, I am tired.” I say.

“Yeah, right,” she says, “what’s wrong, baby, tell me!”

My girlfriend is not one to give up easily. When she wants to know something, there is no point trying not to tell her. So I tell her.

“I was hoping you’d get that strap-on.” I say quietly.

“Oh really?? You did? What, for me??”

“Uhum….” I say, even more quiet.

I am scared as hell that she’ll laugh at me, scared as hell that she’ll freak out, or judge me, take the next plane home and leave me. But she just looks at me, with a puzzled face I had never seen on her.

And all she says is, “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow…” I think.

Then, slowly, as if she were afraid of the answer, she asks, “Are you bi or gay all of a sudden?”

I don’t know what to say. Am I? I love her more than anything else in the world, so I can’t be gay. In my mind, I would love to suck surfer boy’s cock right now though, so I must be bi, no? Does it matter? I am not asking her that question though, because I know the answer. Of course it fucking matters, it changes everything.

But I look at her, I look at her soft face and her strong eyes, I think of our fist date when she told me a lot of stuff that most people would’t tell on their first date, and I know the simple answer:

“No, I am not gay or bi. Sometimes I think about sucking a cock, like surfer boy today. But it’s just a phantasy. Would I do it for real? Yeah, maybe, maybe not, but only if you were there. With you there, I could think of lots of things I could do. If they happen, fine, if not, it’s ok, too. But other than that, I’d just like you to fuck my ass, it’s pretty simple.”

She gives me a long look. Maybe it’s not that simple, for her. Maybe she thinks I am lying, maybe she thinks about all her trips out of town, wondering how many guys I’ve already let fuck me. But there weren’t any guys and there weren’t any women since I met her. Ever.

“So why did you never tell me?” she asks.

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