Once tasted…
Hello. I want to describe some moments from my life. Probably to understand it better myself and also because... I like writing about it.
1. HOW IT ALL BEGAN.
Even as a child, I realized I liked something unusual. I felt pleasure when I was "forced" to do "indecent things." Like many other kids, we sometimes played "doctor" when left without adults. So, when I was "giving shots" and saw the butt of a girl-"patient," I really wanted her to tell me to kiss her after the "procedure." And not just on the butt, but specifically on the little, wrinkled
hole in the middle. But... they didn't say it, and I was too shy to do it myself... I only remember they were very curious about why my pee-pee got hard when they looked at it. And this was at 6-7 years old!..Around age 12, I started playing with my dick, experiencing several orgasms at a time. While doing so, I imagined girls forcing me to kiss them between their legs, both front and back...
At sixteen, I was already French-kissing a classmate and touching her everywhere. But... I was stopped by the SMELL! I didn't know that "girls get wet when they're aroused," and it made me a bit disgusted, my erection weakened.
At 18, I became a man. Clumsy, awkward, but a Man! She was two years younger and was shy about giving it openly, so she came up with a clever trick—when I kissed her behind the ear, she would "pass out," giving me the opportunity to act at my discretion. And I acted. Two or three times, I just moved my dick (by then not just a pee-pee, but a DICK) between her legs. Then I noticed she "didn't wake up" when I kissed her breasts, stomach. That's when I decided to kiss a girl THERE for the first time. I didn't know it was called cunnilingus, didn't know if she liked IT. And I did everything childishly, though I got immense pleasure from IT. And the taste?! That taste is incomparable. It intoxicates more than alcohol. I've never tried drugs, but probably they don't cause such addiction as the TASTE OF A WOMAN'S CROTCH. That's when I got "hooked" on cunny and all its derivatives...
The period before my marriage isn't of interest to the reader. Although... but that's a completely different story.
So—I got married. The birth of a child. Family chores... I, of course, constantly caressed my wife with my tongue, but... Only after two years of living together... More on that in a bit more detail.
My first VCR. And, of course, the first (my own) porn tape. That's when I was first able to give a woman satisfaction with my tongue. Whether I had improved or she was highly aroused, only that time she didn't call me "up" when I was playing a melody of caress with my tongue on her "little girl," but only suddenly started moving her hips faster and, pressing my head hard against her crotch, arched into a bow. Something pulsed quickly in her lower abdomen, and my mouth filled with the best nectar on earth. While I gratefully savored its taste, she relaxed and lowered her arms along her body. After a couple of minutes, I leaned over her face. Without saying a word, she began quickly kissing my lips, nose, eyes, cheeks. That was the highest praise for my efforts and the best reward for my labors. After that first time, I never stopped doing cunnilingus on her without feeling that magical pulsation of her orgasm.
2. VARIETY.
Over time, we began introducing new elements into our sex life. No, we didn't play role-playing games (or rather, not openly). We played cards, backgammon, but always with sexual desires as the stakes. Usually, for time that the loser had to work off with their tongue on the winner's organ of love. Once, getting carried away, I spent over two hours licking her flower, while she read a book, occasionally lifting her butt and warning; "Oh, it's flowing, it's flowing..." And I greedily caught what "flowed" with my tongue.
Once I suggested playing for bondage. And ten minutes later, I was lying naked on the couch. My hands were tied with the belt from her robe to the top of the backrest, and my legs to the bottom. That's when she openly played with my erect dick for the first time. "How nicely it slaps against the tummy!" And that's also when she, for the first time in front of my face, inserted two fingers between her legs and started moving them, not taking her eyes off my reaction. I just writhed below and, unable to restrain myself, whispered with parched lips; "Come on, give it... please give it..." She smiled: "What should I give you? Hmm? Want to lick it? Yes?" "Yes, let me lick them..." And she gave them. And I greedily sucked on her wet fingers. And moaned when she repeated it all over again... And then she squatted in front of my face and held me by the hair when I strained to press my lips to her mound. "Now, now, now, my boy. You have to ask for what you want. So, what do you want?" And I, blushing, whispered: "I want to kiss you... come on, give it... please." She, of course, offered her pussy to my tongue, but first listened to my pleas to her heart's content...
And I started waiting for that "next time." I really wanted to feel the aroma of her urine again and try not to spill a single drop. And it happened quite soon. I, as usual, was licking her little girl. She was reading "Emmanuelle" (to be honest, her sort of "detachment" from what I was doing really aroused me too). Suddenly from above: "I really need to pee. Very badly. Afraid I won't make it in time." I lifted my red face up. "Don't you want anything? To drink, for example?" I swallowed saliva and nodded: "I do." "Then why aren't you asking?" I thought my dick would tear through the sheet and mattress. "Give me a drink, please." "Is that how you ask? Well, okay, I'll teach you how to ask later. For now, quickly lie on your back." As soon as I lay down, she immediately sat on my face. "Open your mouth"... This time, I drank everything to the last drop and dried (as much as possible with a tongue) her lips and the light fuzz of hair around them.
Sometimes she would pee into a special cup right to the brim (an army one, 350 grams) and, after listening to my pleas, watched as I drank it to the bottom in one go.
She also liked to pull her panties off her butt and immediately pull them over my head, always in such a way that the most piquant spots ended up right on my lips and nose.
I remember the first time she "made" me lick her unwashed. "Well, it's clean. Look, look closer." Her hands sharply grabbed the back of my head and roughly pulled me down, pressing my lips right into the slightly sticky and (by the way) interesting-smelling, still closed little shell. "Come on, come on. Work with your tongue." I licked. Once. Twice. Then started licking more thoroughly. "See, and you didn't want to. I knew you'd like it." Strangely, but after the first time, I stopped making sure she washed thoroughly. Moreover, I no longer wanted that "soapy cleanliness"; I wanted to taste HER.
3. "EVEN MORE HUMILIATING"
We were lying in bed watching some movie. She got up. "I really need to go to the bathroom." "So go." "It's boring alone. Come with me. You can tell me little jokes." "Are you kidding? I'm going to tell you jokes IN THE BATHROOM?" "Come on... please." She winked slyly. I suddenly noticed my dick was quickly growing in size. "Okay, fine." She settled on the toilet, and I sat on the edge of the bathtub. "What joke should I tell you?" — my dick was betrayingly bulging in my shorts. And, very embarrassed, I started incoherently telling some joke. She brazenly reached her hand into my pants and, grabbing the shaft, started smiling and nodding in time with my words. "Yes, yes, and then? You're not thinking about that now, right?" I stayed silent. What was there to say when it was clear to both what would happen next. After straining for a couple of minutes, she sighed with relief. And, looking into my eyes, nodded her head towards her butt. "Hmm?" I quickly nodded my head up and down, too excited to utter a word. "Get on your knees." I obediently knelt before her feet. She stood up and lifted her nightgown: "Wipe me." I began greedily licking the wet hairs, trying to push my head between her legs. "Wait, I'll turn around." She turned and, slightly bending, leaned against the wall behind the toilet. Automatically flushed. But I wasn't paying attention to what she was doing anymore. I gently spread her buttocks apart and pressed my tongue to the path between them. I licked and couldn't get enough. Like a hungry cat that got to a saucer of sour cream. I only stopped when she, slowly turning, said in a languid voice: "Let's go... we'll continue in the room..." And we went to the room. And there I licked her with such passion and gratitude that she was satisfied very quickly. Well, and then me too...
So. That's all that happened to me. There's another story. Sort of a continuation of the above, but... those are just my fantasies now. Although I'm more than sure—if we hadn't divorced, those fantasies would have become reality. After all, everything was heading that way...