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Learning to Love

By: Cromagnonman



I was what is known as a 'late bloomer'. I lost my virginity at 20 and, until that happened I was shy and lacking in self-confidence, for good reason. I was raised by my mother and she had no idea about the important things that teenaged boys needed to know, like how to meet girls and survive beyond the first date. How to dress 'cool' like the other boys my age did was another important lesson that I was not taught, I drew the line at the pocket protector and three pens that my late father the Professor wore, but other than that my dress sense did not exist.

My father died when I was 9 and my mother never bothered about re-marrying, in fact I can't remember seeing her with another man, other than Grandad that is. She devoted her time to my well-being. I knew this because she told me often enough. "Only an 'A', I would have thought that you would show your appreciation for my sacrifice with an 'A+', you will just have to do better next time, won't you, you want Mummy to be proud of you, don't you?"

I hated it when she called herself that, it made me feel like a little kid and not an almost adult, after all I was 15 at the time. "But I answered every question correctly, I don't know why I was marked down."

"Did you ask Mister Barker why you didn't get a higher grading?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because . ." I tried to think of a reason why I hadn't asked him, apart from the fact that I was scared of him. "He doesn't like challenges to his authority."

"Haven't I told you often enough that you just have to stand up to people like that."

"I can't. None of the other kids would ask for an explanation, so what makes you . . ."

"Enough! You'll never get anywhere in life unless you can stand on your own two feet."

"But Mother . . ."

"I won't hear another word from you. I am disappointed in you, you didn't get a good enough mark even though you answered all the questions correctly, yet you didn't ask the teacher why."

I tried hard to get good grades, but that only made me feel more self-conscious. 'Smart arse' was a common form of address from my fellow students. I didn't join in with them at break time, because they openly shunned me. I wasn't involved in the usual sporting activities because of my small frame and lack of fitness. I made no effort to find a girlfriend, and this led to the rumour that I was gay. I made no attempt to deny that, as a result it was accepted as fact. At least I didn't suffer the indignity of getting knocked back by some girl and her telling her friends that she had rejected me.

After high school I went to University. My mother wanted me to study Medicine, but the sight of blood was enough to turn my stomach, so I decided that I wanted to study Law. Mother was against this choice because her father, Sir Giles Thornleigh, was a Lawyer and a very good one by all accounts. Because of his success he developed an arrogance towards the world in general and his family in particular. The one thing that he could not stand was any family member going against his wishes. When Mother gave up a promising legal career to marry an Academic, a University Law Professor with whom she had been having an affair while a student, and whose wife had taken as much as she could stand of his philandering and divorced him. He was almost the lowest form of life in the eyes of her father, 'those who can do, those who can't teach' was a common phrase when describing his new son, he turned his back on her, he even went as far as withdraw any financial support and to cut her from his will, she would get nothing from his estate when he died. As a result she was not well off financially, my father not having left her much when he died.

"Malcolm," She had tried to gain favour from her father by naming me after him, it didn't work. Personally I hated the name, I had nothing against my grandfather, but it added to my alienation by my fellow high school students, for some reason they took to calling me 'Malcky'. "Malcolm, we have a problem. As you know, I'm not a wealthy person. I hate to ask you this, but I need for you to find a part-time job to supplement your student allowance."

I remembered thinking to myself that she could always go back to work. The fact that I said nothing was all about me being scared of her reaction if I mentioned it.

This was what led to my meeting Mrs Frangelico. There was a café next to the bus stop where I caught the bus home from University. One afternoon I looked in the window at the rich assortment of sweet cakes that Mother would have a fit if she saw me even looking at, and there was a sign that said 'HELP WANTED, APPLY WITHIN'. So I applied within.

Mrs Frangelico was a well preserved old woman of around 40. At 19 even 30 was old in my eyes, my mother was that old and everything about her was old, her looks, her attitude to life, the way she dressed and even the way that she spoke. She, Mrs Frangelico, was tall, slim with an impressively large bust that I couldn't take my eyes off as I sat across the desk from her. She wore a dark blue Uniform with a logo in cursive writing that said 'Café Frangelico' above her left breast and a name badge above her right breast that told the world that her name was Giovanna and that she was the proprietor.

"Tell me Malcolm," She pronounced it with the 'l', not with the silent 'l' we use. "I have never heard this name before."

"I wish that I'd never heard it myself, it doesn't lend itself to any complimentary diminutive." Shut up Malcolm, I told myself, you're applying for a menial job, not a company directorship. "I was named after my grandfather."

"Have you had any experience with washing dishes?"

"Yes, I help my mother at home." I replied hopefully. Her expression did nothing for my confidence.

"That is not the same as working in the café. Here we have many dishes to wash as well as the pots and pans from the cooking. It is hard work and your hands would be in hot water for hours at a time. I need to know that you will not do this for one or two days and leave."

"I will work hard, I need to work hard."

"Why is this, why do you need to work hard?"

"I am a University student and my mother is not well off, I have to work so that I do not place a financial burden on her. I will not let you down."

"Very well, I will try you out and see if you keep your word. When can you begin?"

"I can begin now."

"Good. Come, I show you the kitchen." She stood and I followed her swinging hips from the office into the noisy kitchen. "Malcolm, this is Gino, he cooks the pasta and sauces, you will be taught how to prepare the salads and garlic bread, and make sure that there is sugar and salt and pepper for the tables and napkins are folded properly. Maria will inspect the dishes and glasses after you have washed them, they must sparkle." She indicated a girl who was a younger version of her and who smiled briefly at me when she heard her name mentioned. "Let me tell you now, she is not for you. She is young and beautiful . . ."

This brought an admonishing "Mama" from Maria.

"You are young and handsome." That's a first for me, not even my mother has ever told me that I was handsome. "But you should not get any ideas, she is promised." This statement brought a sharp glance from Maria. "Put your things in that corner under the bench and put this apron on and begin." She pointed to a pile of pots that had accumulated as we spoke, and showed me how to scrape the pots and to use the spray on the long hose over the sink to rinse them out before placing them into a sink full of sudsy water and scrubbing them out. When I had finished scrubbing I was to rinse the suds off with the spray and stack them onto a draining board. When I had finished washing and rinsing the pile of pots, I was to dry them and stack them ready for Gino to use. Having finished these I was to rinse the plates, cups and glasses, and stack them onto a rack and slide this into a large dishwasher. When the cycle was finished I slid the rack out the other side, stacked everything and returned the rack to its starting place ready for another pile. "I must leave you to do this." She left.

"Take no notice of Mama, she thinks that we are stupid and don't know what to do." Maria said with a smile on her face that stopped me in my tracks, as she gathered up plates of pasta and left to deliver them to the patrons.

Gino worked hard, he had large containers with noodles of all types which he tossed into a pot of boiling water to heat through as required. There were types that I'd heard of, spaghetti, vermicelli and fettuccini, and some that I'd never seen before, linguini, tagliatelle, penne, spiralli. And then there were the sauces, bolognaise, marinara, puttinesca, different types of ravioli and gnocchi. When he wasn't looking I would dip my finger into the sauce, as I'd seen him do, and taste them. This was all new to me, Mother was a traditional cook, plain wholesome food with the occasional, very occasional, venture into the more exotic such as her version of spaghetti bolognaise or even lasagne, neither of which tasted anything like Gino's. She hated garlic, and Italian cuisine was nothing without garlic and herbs.

Gino saw me taking an interest in his cooking and began to allow me to assist, starting with the simple things like grating the parmesan cheese, preparing garlic bread which was a slice of crusty bread spread with garlic butter and grilled. After a few weeks I was asked to heat the pasta and crush the garlic for the sauces. I found it easy to talk to Gino, he was loud and boisterous in his speech, his actions as he cooked, and the way that he tossed the pans around. After he had poured the sauce over the pasta he would throw the pan at the bench beside the sink. Sometimes he would miss and the pan would hit the floor with a loud bang and slide along until it hit something. At first I would meekly pick it up and put it with the others waiting to be washed, but after a few weeks I would toss it back to him and tell him to have another go.

Day by day my confidence grew, a fact not missed by Mother. In the beginning I had told her that I had found a job but not where it was, I was too scared to, but as I gained in confidence I moved ever closer to telling her, the one thing that prevented me was the thought of her reaction.

"You're working where? This will not do, I will not be made a laughing stock by you. What do you think my friends will say when I tell them that my very own son is working in a café of all places?"

"Friends, what friends? I have never seen you with anyone that could be called a friend."

"How dare you! How dare you speak to me like that, your own mother who has sacrificed her life for you, who has given up the chance of a fulfilling life for you! Is this how you repay me? Is it? No, don't say anything, I do not wish to hear another word from you, not until you give up that job. The very thought of you working there sickens me. What is the name of this . . . place?"

"Café Frangelico." The thread holding the sword of Damocles was about to be severed.

"Please don't tell me that you are working for . . . Italians." The way that she said that inferred that these were one meagre step higher than lepers.

Maria began to talk to me. At first it was to tell me what to do but, as I became familiar with the routines in this busy, noisy kitchen, she began to ask me to do things. At first her expression was neutral, but then she began to smile at me when she asked me to do things, and then her hands would brush mine as I handed her plates of food. She took me into the restaurant one day to show me how to prepare for the onslaught. The tables had to be wiped clean and the salt and pepper shakers, along with a shaker of grated parmesan placed in the centre. The diners would grab the cutlery as needed, so we didn't need to have any on the table. All the time that she was showing me what to do we talked. 

"You are at University, what do you study?" She asked as she placed a chair under the table that I was wiping down.

"Law, I want to become a Lawyer like my grandfather." I knew as soon as I had said it that my lack of confidence would probably lead her to believe that I wasn't certain of my career choice.

"Is this really what you want to do, or are you doing it to please him?"

This was the first time I had my choice questioned, Mother opposed it, but didn't question my choice or the motive behind it, it was as if her opposition was the end of story, I would meekly accede to her wishes. Maria's question got me thinking, what was my motive for choosing Law, was it to please Grandpa, or was it to upset Mother, or was it just because it was my first choice of career.

"I really hadn't given it a great deal of thought. Maybe I chose it because the financial rewards are very good, Mother isn't well off financially, and hasn't been for years. When she gave up her career because of the argument she had with her father when she married my father Grandpa was livid and cut her out of the Will. Grandpa was by all accounts a very good and famous Lawyer, but after his reaction she's hated them ever since. Maybe it was my rebelling against her authoritarian attitude, I don't know. Any talk that I've had with Mother about my career has been limited in scope, it's almost as if her choice of Medicine was my only option, my whole education up until then had been geared to a professional career in Medicine. I don't know anything about other careers." What was it about talking to Maria that had me telling her things that I would never think of telling anyone else?

"I've been watching you these past weeks, you have picked up the basics of Italian cuisine very quickly, and you seem to enjoy preparing the food. With a bit more experience you could quite easily take over from Gino. I'd like that, you're much easier to talk to, and you're not always trying to get into my pants." I had never heard anyone speaking so openly about this subject.

"What, no, I'd never do that." She looked at me with a new expression on her face, if I didn't know better I would say that it was one of disappointment. "For a start, I wouldn't know what to do." This generated another new expression, one of amusement, but for once I wasn't totally embarrassed by it.

"You have never had sex with a girl? I find that hard to believe."

"I have never been able to get up the nerve to ask a girl out on a date, let alone to have sex with me."

"Oh, tell me that you're having me on. No boy of your age should be a virgin." This time she seemed genuinely surprised but said no more on the subject

My life from this point moved slowly and inexorably in a new direction. At University I was more relaxed around other students, but my Tutor was beginning to express some concern at my efforts, or lack thereof, in the work that I was handing up. "Tell me Malcolm, why is it that a student that showed such great promise initially, should now show a decided lack of promise?"

"I don't know, it's just that I just can't get motivated."

"Is it that you can't cope with the work, with the concepts, or is there some other reason?"

"It's something that I can't get my head around. When I started out my path was so clear, but then I began to question my direction, was Law the career path for me. Then I realised that I have a new interest in life that, it would appear, is dragging me in a totally different direction."

"This interest, is it girls?"

"No, at least I don't think so."

"You don't think so. Is there someone in your life that wasn't there at the beginning of the Semester?"

"Yes and no."

"I'm afraid that you're going to have to clarify that statement for me."

"Well, you see, I have this part time job as a Kitchen Hand in an Italian café restaurant and there is a girl there. But it's not like that, you know, we're not linked romantically. Don't get me wrong, she's very pretty and we get on fine, but her mother made it abundantly clear from the very beginning that she is off-limits to me."

"But, if it wasn't for that, you think that your relationship would be closer, is that it?"

"If I didn't live with the reality of my situation, then yes, but there is no point in getting my hopes up. It is never going to happen." 

"Getting back to your performance, do you see a future in Law for yourself, or should you be considering another degree?"

"I'm caught between a rock and a hard place here. Having chosen Law against my mother's wishes, I can hardly change now can I?"

"That's entirely up to you, but let me tell you, if you want to make Law your career then you will have to give it one hundred percent, anything less than that will lead to you becoming a mediocre Solicitor eking out an existence on civil actions between parties that can't afford you. Your grandfather was a man who gave it a hundred and ten percent, chose his cases wisely, he only took on clients when there was a better than good chance of success, and then only for wealthy clients who could afford his exorbitant fees. If you look at the majority of his cases you will see that Blind Freddy could have won them. Somehow I don't see you as that type. The decision is up to you, what is it to be, all or nothing?"

"I can see that I'm going to have to do some serious thinking."

"You've got a week before your next assignment is due, you have until then to make up your mind."

"Maria."

"Yes, what is it?" We were setting up the tables for the evening trade.

"Do you remember a month or so ago, you commented on how well I was doing, and how you would like it if I took over from Gino, did you mean that, or were you just saying that to make me feel good?"

"I meant it. What's this all about?"

"I've been thinking, I don't think that I want to continue my Law studies. I like it here, and I would like to work here as a Cook rather than a Pot Scrubber, and I like working with you. I know that it will never be more than that, and I'll just have to accept the fact that I'll never be more to you than someone working for your mother, but this is what I want." There, I'd said it, now for the rejection, now for the humiliation.

"Mal." She had taken to calling me that, it was certainly better than Malcolm. 'Come here."

I went to her. Maria looked around to see if there was anyone watching before gently taking hold of my face and kissing me. "Where did you get that idea that you could never be anything more than an employee in this place?"

"But your mother, before I even started to work here, told me that you were, what was it that she said, promised, that was it."

"You are much more to me than that. As for me being promised, let me tell you that my father is living in the last century with his attitude, the guy that he wants me to marry doesn't even want to marry me."

"What a strange man to not want to marry you, he must be gay or something."

"Forget about the or something. I'll marry who I want to marry, and when my father tries to force the issue I'm going to drop that little bombshell on him, and tell him that there is no way that I'm going to marry a homosexual. Then let's see what he says. For the time being, you and I are going to work together and reach a decision whether we want it to be anything other than that." She kissed me again. "Now, it's back to work."

"Yes Boss. Talk about a slave driver." I smiled as I said that.

"You'd better believe it." She patted me on the backside as she walked away. 

Dare I get my hopes up? I decided that it was best not to, at least not for the time being, I needed to gain a lot more self-confidence before I could even contemplate such an action.

I was busy doing the prep work while Gino was making the sauces for the pasta in readiness for the rush. Maria came in and hung an order slip on the clip over the stove and turned to walk away. She stopped. "Mal, I know that you're a Uni student and all of that, but why do you always have to use such big words? If it's to impress me that you are more intelligent then me, or somehow better than me, forget it. You will impress me more by using words that I can understand without having to hurt my brain working them out."


Learning to Love



"I'm sorry, I didn't realise that I was doing this, it's the way that I have been brought up to speak. If I'm true to myself I have to admit that I sometimes embarrass myself by the way that I talk, I used to get teased about it a lot at high school. I guess that I was afraid that if I changed, to be like the others, my mother would have been angry with me."

"You're really afraid of her, aren't you?"

"Yes, she has always had this way of making me feel inadequate, even when I have done well, it's just not good enough."

"Around here we want you to do well, to do the best you can, but if you fuck up it's not the end of the world. I know you well enough to know that you will do a good job, you just need to have the confidence to know that if you do fuck up you will tell me about it and we'll see what we can do to fix it. Okay?"

"Yes. If you'd said that a month ago I would have been upset, not so much that because you think that I would fuck up, and I can't believe that I'm using that word, but I could not accept criticism of any sort."

"Criticism, as long as it is constructive, is all a part of learning. You seem to have had a lot of destructive criticism in your life."

I was silent for a few minutes, deep in thought about this phase of my life. Maria and I had established the ground rules of our future working relationship, and this resulted in us working much better together. I was enjoying my new life, but was dreading telling my mother that I was dropping out of University to explore a life as a cook.

"You haven't told her yet, have you?" What is it with Maria, she seemed to know what I'm thinking.

"No, I haven't gotten the courage yet."

"Would you like me to be with you when you tell her, sort of moral support?"

"Hell no! That didn't come out right, did it? I would love your support, but I can't see Mother being pleased with, not only the news, but having you there, the person who has led me astray."

"Talking of leading you astray, that has been on my mind for some time."

"What are you saying? What would your father say if he knew that you were even thinking of such a thing?" I was shocked at what she had just said. From what I had gathered from the snippets of conversation around the place, and what Giovanna told me on day one, was that he was very strictly traditional in his attitude.

"Forget my father, he is so out of touch with reality that he still thinks that he's the boss of the family. If only he knew that his being able to go out drinking with his old friends is because it is convenient for Mother to not have him around. You did know that she and Gino are having it off, don't you?"

"What! No I didn't know that."

"She lets him fuck her to keep him away from me. She doesn't love him and she would never leave Father for him, for starters, if she left him he'd get half of the business, and that will never happen."

"I don't believe what I'm hearing, it goes against everything that I have been taught about relationships."

"You've never seen my father have you? He is twenty years older than Mother and hasn't been able to get it up for centuries. She has got to find relief somewhere or she'll go crazy. Gino is convenient and willing, what more could she want?"

"This is a foreign concept to me. Tell me, when you're married, will you remain true to your husband, or will you go looking for relief elsewhere?"

"That depends on my husband. Now if I were married to you, there would be no way that I would need to look elsewhere. But if, for argument's sake, I was forced to married Antonio, that's my father's choice, then I would quite happily make love to you."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was Maria telling me that she considered me as something more than a workmate? "Are you trying to tell me that you are in love with me?" I dreaded her response, I knew that she would laugh at my presumption.

"Of course I am silly. My God, I have never met anyone so slow in all my life. Here I am sending out non-verbal messages, telling you that I'm in love with you, and you haven't even realised that fact."

"I put that down to, (a) my lack of experience in this situation, I have no idea what love is, and (b) my lack of self-confidence, (c) my concern about getting you in trouble with your father, (d) and I can also throw in my abject fear of Mother's reaction."

"Will you stop thinking things through so much, because, until you can get out of that habit you'll never get the nerve to make a move on me. Let me put it to you in words of one syllable, will you please make a move on me."

"What, here and now?"

"No silly, when we've finished for the night, you can walk me home, the long way, past a hotel where we can take a room for the night. If we leave early enough in the morning we can both sneak home without our parents being any the wiser. What do you say?"

"I'll have to think about it."

"Will you listen to yourself? What have I just been telling you? Don't think, just do it."

"I suppose so, although. . . "

"Enough! You've said that you would, and I'm going to hold you to that promise."

"Maria, customers." Giovanna's voice brought the world back into perspective. It was a busy night, there seemed to be more people than usual and I was asked to help out front with clearing the tables and preparing them for new customers. I noticed a man seated in the back corner who was just picking at his food and drinking red wine, several glasses of red wine over the course of the evening. 

I had just finished the last of the plates and had them stacked for tomorrow when the man came into the kitchen. "You are Malcolm?"

"Yes Sir, I am." 

"Come with me." He led the way to the door leading into the back alley where we had the bins for the waste food and crates for the empty wine bottles. "Listen to me, I tell you this, if you do not stop trying to make jig-a-jig with Maria I will have Antonio's father arrange for some bad men to come to you and break open you face." He actually said 'you' instead of 'your'.

"But I have done nothing to her."

"This is not what I see with my own eyes. I watch you tonight, and you and my daughter, you think that she let you make the love with her. This is not so, she is a good girl and will not go against the wishes of her father, no matter how hard you try to change her mind. I have warn you, you seem to be a good boy, I would not like to see you hurt. Kapeesh?"

"I have done nothing wrong with her, I cannot understand how it is that you think that I would do anything with her."

He looked at me for a second or two and then he made this gesture that I had never seen before, but left little to the imagination. He took his right hand, the backs of his fingers touching the chin, and then he flicked it forward with two fingers thrust up. This was not a friendly gesture and I was now officially warned.

"What did Papa want with you?" Maria asked.

"I have been warned to keep away from you. I don't think that he is going to let you and I go to a hotel and make love, much as I would like that, would love that. It's just not safe for either of us."

"Your father is waiting to take you home," Giovanna came in. "You had better go with him, I'll help Malcolm to finish up here."

"I guess that I'd better go." She grabbed her bag and coat. "See you at home Mother," I thought that would be it, but no. " 'Bye Darling, see you tomorrow." She kissed me, in front of her mother, she gave me a passionate kiss that left nothing to the imagination.

"She is in love with you, you know that don't you?" Giovanna asked.

"Yes, she spelt it out in quite some detail this evening. I don't know what to do, I would like to make love to her as she wants, but I know nothing of this and I'm afraid that I will make a mess of things and that will be the end of it."

"She has spoken to me of this. You have never been with a girl?"

"No, I'm officially a virgin."

"This much she told me. Did she tell you that she planned to make love with you tonight?"

"Yes, and this has scared me."

"Why, this is the most beautiful of things between two people that love each other. You do love her, don't you?"

"Yes, I do, at least I think I do. If feeling a tingle every time we touch, of going weak at the knees every time she smiles at me, of wanting to be close to her all the time is love, then yes, I'm in love with her."

"Then I will teach you about love."

"What?"

"I teach you love." She had this smile on her face that told me that she was going to enjoy this lesson. I was now more scared than I have ever been. Here I was, much against my better judgement, about to be taught how to make love by the mother of the girl that I'm in love with. There is something wrong with this scenario."

"But, but if I do this I will be betraying the girl that I love. This is all wrong. I can't do it."

By the time that I had stammered this out she had begun her lesson. Her hand had found its way to my groin and was stroking my penis. "You like this, no?"

"I like this yes." I couldn't lie to her, what she was doing to me felt like nothing that I had felt before. I know that I had played with my penis in bed, but this was totally different.

She took my hand and, unbuttoning her Uniform, she placed it between her legs. She wasn't wearing panties! Her finger guided one of mine into her. "If you move your finger in and out, you will get me aroused, although I was already aroused, even before we started. Take it slowly, please." She closed her eyes and smiled as I began to stroke inside her.

While I did this she had opened the fly of my trousers and eased my penis from the confines of my clothing. As she stroked it, it seemed to grow much larger than it did when I played with it. It felt so good that I just couldn't help myself, after what seemed like seconds, but was probably a little longer, I felt myself unleashing a load of semen into her hand. What she did next shocked me. She licked the semen from her hand and then dropped to her knees in front of me and took my penis into her mouth and licked it clean.

"This is not making love, this is sex. While we wait for you to get hard again I will show you how to make love. The first thing that you must remember is that this should come natural to you. Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"Yes, Maria and I have kissed."

"I meant other than Maria. It was she that kissed you, not you kissing her."

"Then no."

"I have schooled Maria in the art of making love, but I think that she is wanting you to be the lover and she the loved, that way she will know that you are a man, a man not afraid to show his feelings. She has seen me and my husband and she knows that what we have is not love, She has seen me and Gino, and knows also that this is not love, it is a having of sex to replace what my husband is not able to give me."

"How will I know how to make love like a man?"

"I can show you how to make a woman feel pleasure, but that is not something that will make Maria happy. When you know what to do, you must learn how to do it, and that comes from the heart. This I cannot show you, it is something you must learn for yourself. Come, I show you where to touch a woman and how to kiss a woman. I will not let you put your cock into my pussy, but I will show you some different positions for making love. You must discover for yourself which gives Maria the most pleasure. Remember, when you make love to her it is not about your pleasure, or even her pleasure, it is the giving and receiving pleasure from each other."

On the couch in her office, on the floor in her office, and her desk, Giovanna showed me a variety of positions. By the time that she had finished I found myself with another erection. "You must take this to Maria." She said as she tucked it back into my trousers. "She waits for you at the hotel that she planned to take you to this night. Don't worry, her father will not know."

"But how? How did you know all of this?"

"Maria and I have been discussing this for weeks now, ever since she came to me asking my advice on how she could get you to make love to her. She said to me that once you could make love to her you would be able to stand up to your mother and tell her that you have dropped out of University to work in a kitchen, and marry the daughter of the proprietor."

"I don't think that I will ever be that strong."

"You will. Maria is a very determined young woman."

"My mother is a very determined old woman."

"Malcolm," She had lost the 'l' and now pronounced it the way that I had always done. "If you love Maria you will have to prove to her that you can not only make love to her, not just have sex with her, but that you can be strong when you need to be."

"What you are telling me is that I need to have the strength to tell my mother what I have done, or she and I will have no future."

"Yes. You can do it, I have seen in you a strength that was not possible when you first started working for me. Everything is up to you now, and the rewards are many."

I wondered what she meant by that as I walked, deep in thought and anticipation, to the hotel and my destiny.

The door opened to my almost forceful knock, and Maria flung herself at me. I took the initiative and kissed her, really kissed her, not a trying to push her teeth down her throat kiss, but one that told her that I was ready to take control. Her lips parted in response to the probing of my tongue, something that I remembered from seeing a passionate embrace on TV. In an embrace we waltzed into the centre of the room where I released my pressure on her lips far enough to whisper, "I love you".

Her response was, "Thank God." And we returned to our embrace, until she found the space to whisper to me, "I love you." 

I could feel her trembling in my arms, and she had to have felt my penis hardening between us. We parted, but just far enough for me to reach the buttons of her white waitress blouse. Somehow my fingers stopped shaking enough to release them and my hands went around her body, feeling her warm, smooth flesh, until they found the clasp of her bra. I slipped her blouse from her shoulders and it hung limply from the waistband of her skirt. Her bra straps slid down her arms and it dropped to the floor. "They are beautiful." I whispered to her as I ran my fingers lightly across her breasts to her nipples. "Caress them," Giovanna had told me, "you are not trying to get milk from them." Her words guided me well, and Maria was moaning softly as my fingers traced patterns across the slopes of her breasts, touching her hardening nipples.

She whimpered when I took a hand from her and it found the button and zipper of her skirt. She stepped back into my embrace and out of the pile of clothing on the floor. Her black panties and pantyhose were in stark contrast to the pale flesh of her body. I held her from me and my eyes feasted on her perfection. My God my penis was so hard it hurt. I dropped to my knees and peeled her undergarments from her as one, my nose sucking in the aromas from between her legs. Again her mother's instructions led me to my next actions. My tongue was sliding between the lips of her, what was it that Giovanna called it, pussy. With a sob she pulled my face into her, encouraging me to continue, which I did for several minutes until her hips began to tremble. "Oh my God, this is wonderful."

I took her in my arms and led her into the bedroom. I folded back the bedclothes and lifted her onto the bed. I leaned over her and kissed her gently on the lips, and nipples, and belly button and pussy, before standing beside the bed and removing my clothes. She stared at my cock, now standing out from my body, and her hand reached out to touch its tip. I slid onto the bed beside her and her fingers engulfed me, "It is so big."

"I wouldn't know about that, I have nothing to compare it to."

"Neither do I, but I imagine that it is big."

"Have you never seen one before?"

"Not one standing up like this. I walked in on my father peeing into the toilet and it was so small and floppy."

"Have you made love to a man?"

"No, never." Her answer surprised me, from the way that she spoke I had assumed that she was experienced at this sort of thing. "But, I don't understand, you seemed surprised that I had never made love to a girl, so I assumed that you were speaking as someone who had experienced this."

"No. you have to understand that in traditional Italian families, the boys are encouraged to gain experience from an early age, but that girls are forbidden from gaining the same experience. I was raised in a very traditional family, I have never been allowed to go out with a boy without a chaperone. The opportunity to have sex never existed."

"I would have thought that your mother would have organised something along those lines." 

"No. My mother is a romantic, not in her personal life, in that she is a realist, but for me she wants the happiness that she never had." As we talked my hands were busy caressing those places on her body where I could feel that she gained the most pleasure, and her fingers were touching my penis just enough to keep him interested. "My mother has been giving me lessons too." She whispered, "She did not want us to be fumbling around not knowing what to do."

Her legs had parted in response to my finger's caressing. I moved between them and she led him to her pussy. "Please, be gentle with me."

I was gentle until he reached her barrier. I pushed against it several times without success, she flinched each time and I thought that she was going to tell me to stop. "There is nothing for it, I have to push harder."

"Yes my love, do it." She tried hard not to cry out as he at last breached her barrier. "Don't move, let me feel him inside me." I held him there for several minutes as she clung to me. "I have read books that tell me what I am supposed to be feeling when this happens, but nothing can describe how good this feels with you inside me."

I moved tentatively, and then with more purpose when I could see that this was what she wanted, he slid in and out of her and she rose with each thrust, forcing him deeper inside her. We came together a short time later, neither of us able to hold back for any length of time. "I love you," A soft whisper came from her lips, "and I know that you love me, I can feel it, you make love from the heart."

"I feel it too. Your mother told me what to do, but then she told me that she could not tell me how to do it, that, she said, must come from the heart. I didn't have to think what I was to do, it just happened."

"I have dreamed of this moment for some weeks now, but my dreams did not prepare me for how wonderful this is for me, for us."

"It is, isn't it?" My finger was now covered with a mixture of our juices as it moved within her, preparing her for some more loving. Her hands were gently stroking him and soon he was ready. I rolled onto my back, pulling her with me. She straddled me and fed him into her pussy. She sensed that I wanted her to take control of our lovemaking this time, not to relinquish power to her, but to allow her to make love to me from the heart. After several minutes she drove hard down on him and he flooded her with semen.

"Darling." I whispered to her as I cuddled her to me.

"Mmm?"

"I was thinking, shouldn't we be taking precautions?"

"I'm on the pill." She mumbled.

"But how, why?"

"Mother's idea, she knew that this day would come."

"Smart mother."

"You'd better believe it." That was the last thing said between us until the morning.

"Good morning my Darling man." I was desperate for a leak and tried hard to get out of bed without disturbing her. I had done my thing and was heading back to bed, naked, when she sat up with her arms open for me. "You are a man."




Learning to Love



"Am I?" I was actually feeling very much a man, and it was good to have her tell me so, just to confirm my feelings. I kissed her and we rolled together and made love once more before getting out of bed and showering.

As we left the hotel I took her hand. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Maria asked as I led her to where I and noticed a cab setting down passengers. I signalled the driver just as he was about to pull away from the kerb. We slid into the back seat and I gave him my address. It was a short ride, no more than ten minutes and this gave me time to compose myself for what was about to happen.

"Where have you been?" Mother didn't disappoint. "And who is this," a quick look down her nose at Maria, "person?"

"Mother, I would like you to meet Maria, I work with her."

"It would appear that you do more than work with her."

"Mother," I took a deep breath and launched into what I had to say. "I have been working with her for the past six months in her parents' café." Another breath. "I have dropped out of University and I'm going to pursue a career in the restaurant trade as a Cook and work my way to become a Chef."

It took a minute or two for this to sink in, and then came the expected explosion. "WHAT!" She screamed at me. "Have you gone completely out of your mind? Is this what I have devoted my life for? Is this what I have sacrificed any happiness that I might have expected out of life to achieve? I wanted you to get the best education that I could afford and you throw it all away to work in some second rate café with this, this, slut?"

"Maria is not a slut."

"You have obviously been with her all night, so she's a slut."

"Mother! How dare you talk about the woman that I love like this!"

"Doesn't that beat all? Now your in love with her and the next thing you will tell me is that you want to marry her. Over my dead body you will!"

"If that's the way that you feel about this then so be it. There is nothing that you can say to me that will change my mind, and before you scream at me again, isn't this exactly the same conversation that you had with your father when you told him that you were going to marry my father?"

This stopped her in her tracks, for a short time. "That's a completely different scenario. I was planning to marry an academic against his wishes, an academic, not some waitress or whatever she is, working in some," pause for the belittling effect, "café."

"Mother, what I'm about to say will probably upset you, and for that I apologise in advance. For all of my life you have belittled my achievements, and you have made me feel guilty and inadequate, and told me over and over again about the sacrifice that you have made for me. And I believed you to the point that I had no self-confidence at all, I was the victim of every bully in school, and that included the teachers, and I never had the courage to stand up to them. I was never able to reach my full potential because I never had the confidence to go after what I wanted to do. It was always about what you wanted me to do. I had to work hard just to please you, but you never gave me any praise when I had achieved that. You made me feel inadequate even when I got good grades. You may in your own way, love me, but did you ever once tell me that? You made my life miserable, but since I have been working with Maria I have found love, real love, and I have had my achievements recognised, I have been encouraged to chase after my goals, I have been encouraged to become a man. It is this man that is going to tell you something that you should have been told twenty years ago. Mother, get a life, go out there and find yourself, make friends, do things that you want to do rather than that you feel that you have to do. Go and make peace with your father, and maybe, just maybe, when he sees you he will welcome you back into the family that you walked away from all of those years ago."

"How dare you speak to me like this." She glared first at me and then Maria. "I suppose that you put him up to this." She said to Maria.

"No, I did not. I had no idea that he was going to come here this morning, that he was going to bring me here. Having said that, I am very proud of him for doing this. He has shown himself to be the man that I knew that he could be, the man that I love."

"Love, love? You are much too young to know of love."

"How old were you when you first met Dad?"

"That was different."

"How was it different?"

"I don't know, it just was."

"Mother, you are being irrational. Go and talk to Grandad and patch things up with him. And then go and do something different, go on a cruise, go shopping for new clothes that are in fashion, not last years disposal fashions. Get out of this house and live, really live." I put my arm around Maria. "Maria and I are just about to venture on a life together." Her arm went around me and she hugged me to her. "We want to remain friends with you, to support you in whatever you want to do with your life. The last thing that we want is to watch you continue to wallow in self pity."

For once Mother was speechless. "Mother." Maria said. This brought a sharp reaction from her, but she resisted the urge to say anything. "What I would like is for you to come to our café and dine with us and my mother, get to know this other life that Mal has embarked on, get to know the people who see so much potential in him, who encourage him to achieve that potential. We promise not to poison you."

Mother actually chuckled at that. "I suppose that I will have to, I'm never going to change his mind, am I?"

"No. We will see you at 7:00 at Café Frangelico, formal dress not required." She smiled and kissed my astonished mother on the cheek.

As soon as we arrived at the café we knew that something had happened. 

"Where have you been?" Maria's father was angry, and he was not alone, a man that I was soon to learn was Antonio's father was with him and equally angry. "I find you sneak out of the house last night and do not come home. You dishonour you father and make Antonio's father very angry, because you are meeting this boy for jig-a-jig. I have warn him what will happen if he no leave you alone. Men are on their way to teach him lesson that he no forget. As for you young lady, you must go to Antonio and beg him to forgive you and hope that he will still marry you."

"I will not marry him Father, he is not the man for me."

"How can you say this?"

"Because he likes little boys, he is, how would the Australians call him, a Poofter. I will not marry him, never."

"What is this you say, that he is a fairy?"

"Yes, and he likes them young, he will make a good Priest."

"You shut up you face. You no speak like this."

"Giuseppe, you listen to me." Giovanna stood in front of her husband. Maria is not to marry Antonio, she is in love with Malcolm and she is to marry him."

"You not tell me what she do, I am you husband, and you tell me nothing."

"I tell you everything. I'm no longer married to you, I want to divorce you."

"If you want this then you will have to sell this café because I take half of this business."

"You cannot do that."

"Why you tell me I can no do this?"

"Because I no longer own it."

"What you mean you not own this business. Your father give it to you, and there was no money owing on it and now you say you not own it. How can this be?"

"I will not tell you this, it was mine to do whatever I want with it, and I no longer own it. You go to our house and pack your bags with your clothes and leave. You take just your clothes, everything else stays."

"We see about this, I go to see Lawyer about this." He went.

"You no longer own this? What has happened?" Maria asked.

"I have signed the title over to you two."

"Where did you get an idea like that?"

"One day this man, a professori I think he said, came to speak to me about you. He had spoken to you about your future and you expressed that you were happy here with us. He came to see for himself what attracted you and we got to talking. I told him that I wanted to divorce my husband but would not do it if my husband wanted half of this café. It was his idea for me to sell the business to you and Maria so my husband has no claim on it, You owe me one dollar, by the way. I did this for you, but I also did it for me. I wanted to get him out of my life and at the same time give both of you something that you can call your own, to do with as you wish, together. I presume, just by looking at you, that everything went as you dreamed last night."

"It went better than I dreamed it would. My man and I went to see his mother this morning, and he told her that he had dropped out of University to pursue a career in this café."

"She took it pretty much as I imagined she would at first, but then she calmed down a lot. She is coming here for dinner this evening." I said. "Maria and I will make a special dinner for her. We want you to stay here and work with us, you know too much of this business for us to let you walk away from it."

"I will stay for as long as you like me to stay, but I will also be looking to do things that I have not been able to because of this business. I want to travel, to go to Tuscany where my family was from, just to feel the life that gave birth to this café, eat the food that we make here, drink the wines. I might not like it as much as the food and wine here in Australia, but then maybe I will."

"You do whatever you want with your life and we'll be happy for you, just as long as you are here when the children arrive."

This brought a sharp expression from Giovanna. "What aren't you telling me? You made love for the first time last night, you are on the pill, it is impossible."

"Yes, it is impossible now, but it will happen in the future. Now we must make everything perfect for Mother."

Gino prepared a Lasagne to die for, it was ready to go into the oven as soon as Mother arrived and would be perfect. I was a little dubious at first, given Mother's lack of experience in anything more exciting than very basic meat and three veg, but I changed my mind when I tasted the béchamel sauce that he used, it had a dash of mustard to raise the intensity of an otherwise bland sauce, while at the same time took some of the intensity out of the meat sauce's chilli. Giovanna made a Tiramisu that was so much better than the commercial crap that is served up in some restaurants.

The café was spotless, there were table cloths on the tables, the condiment dispensers were polished brighter than they had ever been, wine glasses, reflecting almost as much light as a mirrored disco ball, sat in wait for the finest wine that we could find. I still had this nagging feeling that our perfection would still not be good enough.

"Don't worry," Giovanna said as I flicked in imaginary speck of dust from the clean table cloth, "She will not say anything if she knows what is good for her. Go help Gino."

She was punctual. She came into the café and stood just inside the door taking it all in. Maria hurried to her. "Welcome to Café Frangelico. Would you come this way."

"No, I'm waiting for someone, he's parking the car." The door opened and an older man came in. "Maria, dear, I would like you to meet my father Sir Giles Thornleigh, Father, this is Maria, the young lady that your grandson has fallen in love with."

"Forget about the Sir Giles, it's just plain Giles to family, or you can call me grandad or something like that." He took her hand and then kissed her on the cheek. "I have heard a lot about you, about how you have enticed the boy away from a career in Law and into the restaurant trade. I wish to hell that I had the guts to have done something like that instead of bloody Law."

"Father! Language, please."

"Gloria, we are here for a celebration of sorts, don't be so stuffy for once in your life."

They were seated and Giovanna came over and was introduced. "We have prepared a dish for you this evening that I am certain you will enjoy. We have several excellent wines to choose from." She handed Grandad the hastily prepared wine list. "All of them will compliment the meal. For dessert we have a Tiramisu made from the same recipe that my grandmother passed down to my mother, and she to me. If you like it, I will hand the recipe down to Maria."

Grandad chose a wine and Giovanna went off to get the bottle.

"Where is my grandson?" Giles asked.

"He is in the kitchen preparing the food. I will get him."

Maria and I came out of the kitchen with the Lasagne and placed the plates in front of them. "Malcolm, I could never understand why your mother chose to burden you with that name, I dumped it at the first opportunity and took my second Christian name instead. Malcolm, I have been following your life, from a distance, not because I wanted to, but because my daughter chose that, and I must say that I was surprised to hear that you had dropped out of Uni. When I heard the reason I just had to investigate. I spoke with your tutor who filled me in on the details and I have to tell you that I approve. I know that I have a reputation as something of a superstar in the legal profession, but that was a defence mechanism, a lucrative one I have to admit, to help me make as much money as possible with the least effort. I never liked the thought of so many uncaring people controlling the destinies of so many people. A good Lawyer cannot afford to care for his clients, it distorts his reason and his ability to deal impassionately with the case."

This was something that was never taught in Law School, it was all about how wonderful the legal profession was, and the people who chose it as a career.

"And then your mother goes off and marries a second rate Lecturer, who just happened to have had a reputation for taking advantage of the most naive of the female students and bedding her. When his wife kicked him out, he chose Gloria to marry, knowing that she would not say anything about his philandering. In a way I was pleased when he died, and would have welcomed her back into the family if she had come to me, but your mother is stubborn, I know, she got that from me, and I have waited for years for her to come to me. I understand that I have you and your Maria to thank for this."

We were busy and, although we had taken on another waitress for the night, we were run off our feet. Gino and I were flat out keeping up with the orders and as soon as one table was vacated I was out there clearing up in preparation for the next customers and taking the dishes out to the kitchen and into the dishwasher. Maria and I took whatever opportunity presented itself to stop by the table and talk with Mother and Grandad. They stayed until after the last customers had left and we had cleared all of the tables.

"This is a gold-mine, do you realise this?" Grandad said as he drained the last of the second bottle of wine. "Have you given any thought to going up-market, to catering for a more exclusive clientele?"

"We prefer it this way," Giovanna said, "if we give the customer better food than he pays for, he goes away happy, but if he pays a lot more for it, and it doesn't meet his expectations, he goes away unhappy and tells his friends. In this trade a good reputation is worth a lot of money, but bad reputation costs more."

"An interesting way of looking at it, and I have to agree with that. Food, and wine, are very subjective. Take for instance that Lasagne, it was not what I was used to, and expected, it was better, at least I thought so, but another diner might have thought differently. The meal is exactly the same but the result is different and, while some of my acquaintances will agree with me, they will probably say nothing, but if I told them that I thought that it was rubbish, you can be sure that they would spread the word, taking my opinion as gospel."

"I'm glad that you liked it." Giovanna said. "I'll tell Gino."

"I understand that you may have some problems with your husband." He asked Giovanna.

"I don't think so, what I have done is strictly legal and cannot be successfully appealed."

"If he gets a good Lawyer he can appeal the transfer of title through the court system right up to the High Court, that will place the transfer in limbo for a long time."

"But this will cost money, he has none."

"Does he have access to your personal or this business account?"

"He has no access to my personal account and I have to countersign any transaction that he wishes to make from the business account."

"I suggest that you transfer the business account either to Maria or to a Holding Company so that he has no claim on it. If you have any problems, I am offering my services, free of charge, to you. If he tries anything we'll screw the bastard to the wall."

"There is one thing," I said, "He has made threats against me personally, do you think that we should take out a restraining order in case he or Antonio's father or any of their friends try anything?"

"Good thinking, go to the courts in the morning, when you speak to the Clerk of the Court, mention my name and tell him that he should grant it as a favour to me."

I could not believe that this man who I have only met on a couple of occasions, and who has been effectively alienated from me by my mother, should be doing this for me, for us. It must have been some reunion between him and Mother."

"He is a good man, your Grandfather." Giovanna said after they had left. "Now we must go home, we have much to do in the morning before we open up."

I went home with Maria and Giovanna, I had to protect them, at least that was my excuse, not that I needed an excuse. I was feeling comfortable as a part of this family and there was no thought of me sleeping anywhere other than with Maria. "Don't stay awake too long you two, we have a busy day ahead and you must realise that now you own the café, you will have to do most of the work that I usually did."

"And I thought that you were a slave driver." I told Maria. "You have nothing on your mother."

Making love to Maria was better than it was last night. I was no longer scared of failure, and I had the confidence that enabled me to control our lovemaking. Maria held me after we had reached the point of exhaustion. "Darling, I love you very much, and I am loving making love with you, having you caress me, and when he is inside me I feel that I am in Heaven. A week ago I could not have dreamed that it would be as good as this."

"Maria, my beautiful Maria, I am this good because of you, and because I have learned, for the very first time in my life, what it is to love."

We had only just fallen asleep when the front door bell rang. We heard Giovanna walk past on her way to answer it. There was a mumbling of voices and a short time later there was a tap on our door. "Maria, Malcolm, it is the police, they want us to go to the café, there is a problem."

"What sort of problem?" I asked as I scrambled into my clothes. I was beyond caring that a halfway decent pair of nostrils would pick up the scent of our lovemaking. Maria scrambled into a tracksuit and sneakers and followed me to the living room. "What has happened?"

"Someone has tried to set fire to your café. A police patrol spotted a couple of man acting strangely in the alley behind the café and called it in. When reinforcements arrived the men were just about to set a rubbish bin alight. The amount of accelerant in it would most likely have caused a massive explosion and, because they were still in the immediate vicinity of the bin, the might not have survived. We did them a favour, but they might not thank us when this gets to court."

"Do you know who these men are?"

"One of them claims that he is the owner, and was responding to an alarm call out."

"He is not the owner, he might have been married to the owner, but has never been the owner. The man is, or was, my husband. He has just found out that I want to divorce him and that he has no claim on the business as part of any divorce settlement. He is angry enough to do something stupid like this. The other man is probably a friend of his whose son was promised to Maria. The son is gay and doesn't want to marry her, and she definitely doesn't want to marry him, but the two fathers cannot accept that and have made threats against Malcolm here, who is Maria's fiancé."




Learning to Love



I liked the sound of that, 'Maria's fiancé' the only think that sounded better than that would be Maria's husband.

We went with the police to the crime scene to check if there was any other damage, there was none, and then to the police station where we identified the culprits. They were to be charged later on in the morning. In the meantime we all went back home and tried to sleep.

A few minutes after we opened for the lunchtime trade, Mother walked in and up to Maria. "I have come to apologise for my outburst yesterday morning. I was out of line and I know that now. I can see that you and Malcolm are in love, deeply in love, and I wish you well for the future. I have one request to make."

"Oh yes, and what might that be?" Maria asked, feeling just a little scared.

"I would like you to teach me to love. Can you, will you do that for me?"

"It could take time, you realise that. I'm not saying that because I think that you could be a hopeless case, but because to get to love someone, you have to know them, really know them. It took me months to break down the barriers that Malcolm had placed around himself, but once I managed that, the results have been worth the time and effort."

"Time I have plenty of, and I want to make the effort. On a night that you two are not open, would you come to dinner with me, at my father's house, and bring your mother, I think that Father has taken a fancy to your mother. I told him that he was behaving like a lovelorn schoolboy. He just smiled and told me to invite her anyway."

"We don't open on Mondays so we'll be there next Monday. And by the way, your father is probably younger than mine."

"Great, that's really great, if the two of them hook up my father's new wife, my step-mother, will be my son's mother, and his Grandfather will also be his father-in-law." She laughed at the thought. "We'll see you then."



Learning to Love Anal Sex



*A little bit of an introduction-

When my Dom and I first met on-line, he was very curious and interested to know about why and how I enjoyed certain things related to sex (especially kinky sex acts). As we both enjoy many of the reciprocal pleasures that anal sex has to offer, this explanation is one of mine (and his) favorites.

When I first became sexually active, I was kind of "scared" of the back entry- Which I guess can be quite natural and realistic. I always had lots and lots and lots of sexy fun, but I wasn't into anything anal.

But that was only until I met a man who really came to know me and brought me to the BDSM scene. All that changed! It changed for the more pleasurable better!!!

By this point, I had let a few guys put their dick up my ass but I never really gained a ton of pleasure/excitement from it. It did sometimes turn me on, because it turned them on.

Well, my new master began teaching me about the real fun of anal training. He would command me to put my fingers up my ass- At first, just that.

Then, he would tell me to put my fingers in my ass while he finger-fucked my pussy. I would of course, cum very, very hard. (So yummy!)

He then introduced the toys. He brought the small butt-plugs and the really long dildos. Sometimes, he would shove them into me and try to figure out how much I could take in. At other times, I would be forced to stuff things up my ass myself. It got to be so pleasing to me, that I started (and still continue) to put things up my ass even when I masturbate.

I have been whipped and spanked with plugs and balls in my ass. 

One time, my master had me tied with my arms behind my back, my knees bent, my ankles bound, my eyes blindfolded, and he sat me up on a stool. He put a very long dildo up my ass and he fucked me up my pussy with his cock from behind. I came and came and shrieked and dripped all over everything!

Then there were scenarios when even out in public, he would just walk up behind me, (because many times I was ordered not to wear any panties) and he would just shove his cock straight up my ass. 

When I am being fucked up the ass, the sensations are thrilling. It can be messy, but even that becomes part of the erotic experience. It can be about just letting yourself go and letting everything out- figuratively, and literally.

The build-up is fun.

Getting the pussy so wet is nice, as it lets the juices run down into the ass crack and hole. Now, my body really knows what it wants. I can feel and I know the dooer can see my ass pucker and gape as it awaits its reward. 

A light brushing or poke across the anus brings on an inner tickle. And once a hard fucking has started, the waves of pleasure just roll and roll and roll. . .

I really like how it feels when a guy's cum drips out of my ass, and I can smear it all around my ass cheeks and thighs.

When I am masturbating, I utilize all sorts of fun items to put up my ass. I have used the handle of a wooden spoon. .. 

I stick it as far as it will go right up my tight, little ass-hole. I'll let it just stay there awhile, while I tug on and pinch my tits. As I feel my nipples getting really hard and perky, I'll lick my fingers and cover them in my spit.

Using my right hand, I'll smear and smudge that spit all over my breast and really get my nipple tickling. At the same time as I am doing that, my left hand is also covered in my saliva, and I'm just very delicately tapping at and rubbing my clit. I'm just teasing myself, without any vaginal penetration.

I'll feel the contracting begin. My ass will tighten around the handle of the spoon. Juices will just pour out of my cunt and drip down over my ass. I'll do this until my orgasm is about to really burst forth.

Then, I'll move one of my hands down to the handle of the spoon and give it a few shakes, shoves, and jerks. . .

When I anticipate both a pussy and ass orgasm coming, I'll pull out the spoon quickly and just feel the gushes! At other times, I'll leave the spoon in and relish the squeezing and tightening of each orgasmic spasm. 

I've used beer bottles, hair-brush handles, and even the long end of a toothbrush handle as well as many other more "normal" forms of buggery items. 

Let's not forget about the goodness of a good ass rimming. . .

A female tongue is so very lovely in the ass. Giving and receiving at the same time is the best! I have and believe I would do the same things to a male ass if given the proper motivation to do so. Sometimes, I want to. Sometimes, I have been ordered to. . .

Another fun way to be really buggered, is to be spanked and flogged while its happening.

Oh, Sir! There are sooooo many fun anal scenes, and I am always sooooo ready to be an anal whore!



Learning to Love Aunt Laura



There can be many factors related to a voyeuristic experience. Timing and luck can be included, but unless someone shuns timidity and once in a while acts on impulse, the moment fizzles and the opportunity fades away. Some people consider voyeurism as secondary to the physical experience. They don't understand that true voyeurism transcends the gratification derived by each person being watched, allowing the voyeur to absorb the pleasure of all the participants. And, when the voyeur adds a little impulsive behavior to the mix, sparks start to fly.

I was raised in a secluded environment. I was home schooled and spent most of my time with my family. When I was eighteen I never discussed sex with anyone, afraid that my fixation with women's bodies would be considered a bad thing. Once when we were on vacation, I wound up sharing a bedroom with my Aunt Laura. My assumption is that we were paired together out of convenience. Someone might have asked her preference, and she might have been happy about the arrangement because she liked me. I don't know.

Aunt Laura was the hottest looking person in my family, but she didn't flaunt her looks with outwardly sexy clothes. When it came to attire, she leaned more toward a classy, conservative style, but with good taste. And what I mean by "good" is the kind that a voyeur can appreciate. Even though her dresses were long, they usually included a hint of mystery, such as a strategically placed slit to reveal one of her well toned thighs, or a backless design, which still to this day drives me wild when I see a well put together woman dressed with her back exposed. 

She always treated me kindly. If she was aware that her young nephew was harboring sexual feelings sparked by the temporary living arrangement, she didn't say anything. I don't believe she was capable of having physical attraction to an inexperienced 18 year old, much less her sister's son. The erotic nature of our being roommates, and the resulting lust, was generated solely by me. 

As far as I can remember, sexuality was my first cognitive awareness, and all my other thought processes followed. I only say this because at all times, every moment, I see the sexual aspect of things first. If I perceive just an inkling of eroticism, everything else becomes secondary. It could be a business function, competing in a sporting event, or being sick in bed. If a situation develops, such as being attended by an attractive nurse, or competing against a female in a jog bra, I focus on it, no matter what else is happening, like a dog on a bone. I could be a groom in the middle of the ceremony, and if there were a pretty girl in the audience with revealing attire, the sight of her would be on my mind as I said, "I do."

But my name's not Freud, and I'm not here to bore you about my psyche. The last thing I'll mention about it is that even though the essence of my being relates to sex, I usually try to avoid acting on my impulses, because with most people impulsive behavior is construed as obnoxious. I'm content to watch and observe things, all the while learning to hone my watching and observing skills. 

Which brings me back to sharing the room with Aunt Laura. One morning I woke as she sat upright on her bed facing me, with her naked back to the window, soaking in the sunlight. As I peered through my nearly closed eyelids, Aunt Laura was brushing her long straight hair, and the forward strokes pulled it over her breasts, extending down to her lap, splaying onto the bedspread and around her sides. 

The sight reminded me of an illustration of a mermaid from a book I once read. The drawing had lacked detail of the mermaid's torso, and now I was learning how to fill in those blanks. I pretended to adjust my sleeping position, by stretching my arm above my head and then letting it flop across my face, knowing that it would help disguise the fact that I was actually awake and watching her. 

She was softly humming with a piano tune from the radio, sometimes closing her eyes for a few seconds, all the while keeping rhythm. Her and my mother had both studied piano, making music part of our family life. When she seemed content that the brushing was finished she placed it on the pillow by her side, and at that moment I realized she only was wearing blue lace panties. I would have noticed sooner if I hadn't been mesmerized by the vision of her breasts as they hung under the veil of her dark hair like mysterious round globes.

It was the first time I had ever seen a woman topless. My body began to react with sensations I never felt before. My breathing got harder, and an erection quickly grew in my boxers as I lay under the thin veil of my bed sheet. The weather was too hot to bother with pajamas or blankets. 

Aunt Laura's thighs were together, pointing directly toward me, and her feet hung down from the side of the bed just above the floor, crossing each other, with slender toes pointing in opposite angles. As she lifted both arms to manipulate her hair into some kind of braid, the strands covering her breasts spread thinner, and I noticed there was a dark skinned circle at the center of each globe. 

As her hands reached the top of her head, the strands widened further apart to give me a clear view of the dark areolas, with their pointed tips. They were exciting to see as occasionally they lifted and then returned, in unison with her arm movements. 

Seeing nipples for the first time was more than a naive 18 year old could bear, and in the midst of learning what a breast actually looked like, I also learned that a prolonged excitement could have erupting results. I should have realized that the tremors in my groin were a warning, but I was mesmerized, like a deer caught staring at the headlights of a car. 

As I quickly turned away from my aunt, once again trying to feign a repositioning in my sleep, the spurts shot out into my boxers. I had never experienced an ejaculation caused by merely watching something. Up until then, my only source of pleasure had been masturbation. It took all of the self control I could muster to not squeeze my cock with my hand to heighten my pleasure. I didn’t want to risk catching the attention of Aunt Laura. It seemed like forever before she finally left the room so that I could privately clean myself up. 

There was another day when we were all at the beach and got drenched in a sudden rain shower. We carried our soaked blankets and towels back to the beach house as the rained poured down. I shivered all the way back to the house, and sat on my bed with my arms wrapped around my knees trying to stay warm. 

I watched Aunt Laura change with her back to me, seemingly content by now that this was the acceptable way to deal with having me in her room. It was another first for me, seeing the ass of a naked woman. The accentuated curves and wetness of her skin increased my fascination with her body as I watched her slip quickly into her terry cloth robe. When she turned and saw me shivering she grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me to a standing position on the floor. 

Without a word Aunt Laura lifted off my soaked tee shirt, and then grabbed my swim shorts by the waist and pulled them down to my feet. She found a towel at the foot of her bed, and by the time she turned back to face me, I was slightly rigid and embarrassed, but had no clue what to do other than just stand there nervously. I was relieved that she didn't pay any attention to my erection, as she lovingly dried me off and then wrapped me with a blanket.

Just after my 22nd birthday Aunt Laura invited us to her new house for a backyard barbecue. She was thoughtful enough to include my girlfriend. Aunt Laura was now divorced, and still beautiful, in a yellow cotton sundress that showed off her dark hair and figure in a sexually elegant style. The shape and smoothness of her shoulders, arms and legs were as attractive as ever. 

We had a good time. A few of us were staying for the night, having driven too far to return home the same day. Aunt Laura had arranged a rollout mattress on the family room floor for me, next to the sofa where my girlfriend was already asleep. But before going to bed, I made sure to help clean up. Finishing alone in the kitchen, I went back out to the yard for a final check. 

When I stepped out to the patio, Aunt Laura was there, alone by the fire pit, sleeping in a lounge chair. Her head was turned to its side, against a pillow. As I knelt to wake her, I noticed that her slightly awkward position on the lounge had created a fold in the top of her sundress. From my view, the exposure she had unknowingly created could have made her embarrassed. It not only exposed her tanned chest with its deep cleavage, I could clearly see her large white breasts. The flickering firelight gave the illusion that her nipples were swaying beneath the cotton print. 

Earlier in the day, when I noticed the pointed imprints of Aunt Laura's areolas through the fabric of her dress, and the fluid movement of her breasts, I knew she must have been braless. I wondered if I'd get a decent view down her dress. Now, after having a few glasses of red merlot and having experienced the daylong excitement of watching the female family members in their summer outfits, I felt daring. And, I felt impulsive. 

When my penis couldn't get any harder under my swim trunks from studying my aunt's creamy white breasts, I moved to a chair at the other end of her lounge. In her relaxed position the dress had pulled up almost to her hips, and as I hunched my head down slightly, I could see her silky panties, and I could detect a sweet scent emanating from her body. I reached out to carefully remove her sandals, which were barely hanging onto the ends of her feet. Then I placed both my hands around her left foot, slowly kneading the muscles under her toes and the ball of her foot. This woke Aunt Laura quickly, but she smiled when she realized what was happening. "Just what I needed," was all she managed to say as her eyes drifted closed again. 

Suddenly I heard my mother's voice from behind, "and probably just where you need it too," she added. The realization that my mother was just a few feet away, lying on a blanket on the ground, gave me a sobering jolt. The darkness and the wine had caused me not to notice her, and now I was caught by my mother of all people. 

But then she added, "You'd better do more than just her feet. My poor sister's been slaving after us all day." With my mother's slightly slurred her words, and the suggestive nature of her comment I realized that she wasn't upset about catching me staring at her sister. "I believe that he's enjoying this as much as you are," she said to Aunt Laura. Up until that point, I had never considered that my mother would share sexual humor openly in front of me, and I was thrilled to hear it, knowing that she had been drinking more than usual and allowing me to see her slightly devilish side. "He's sure getting an eyeful of you Laura."

"Just like the old days?" Aunt Laura shot back, and they both laughed at what obviously was a reference to events from the past. Apparently my lifelong assessment of my mother as a timid, socially modest woman was a remnant of misconception from my younger days. I was surprised that she condoned my massaging of her sister, and I was also aroused that she condoned my massaging of her sister. Relieved of the worry about being caught peeking up Aunt Laura's dress, I relaxed my grip on her foot while I continued kneading her flesh. I tried not to let my mother's presence distract me from what I had started. 

When I moved my position on the chair to bring me as close to Aunt Laura's legs as possible, I felt my mother sit down right next to me. There was no way to hide the fact that Aunt Laura's dress was not covering her panties.

"All the girls in our family have such pretty legs," my mother said softly. I couldn't believe the state of arousal I was in, with my mother right there at my side. "I have those same bikinis, Laura. Did you get them at the mall?" 

"I sure did," said Laura, "and three other colors, too," she added. 

They must have known the excitement they were making me feel, but they acted calm, as if it were a normal conversation. Hearing my mother talking openly about her underwear was something I never experienced. She looked a lot like Aunt Laura, and for the first time I consciously admitted to myself that my mother was a sexually attractive woman. I worked my hands up to Aunt Laura's smooth calf, and realized that her legs were totally limp, allowing me to manipulate their position. 

Aunt Laura's eyes were closed as she told me how great I was making her feel. When I had her left leg turned out as far as it would comfortably move, I switched to her right foot, all the while keeping my eyes focused on the crotch of her panties, while my mother sat calmly by my side. I had manipulated her into a position that now enabled me to detect crevices through the silky fabric, and a soft looking mound of pubic hair underneath. The more I kneaded and massaged, her right leg became as limp as the left one, and the more I was able to position it for a better view under her dress. Her complete lack of resistance gave me the idea that she was just as happy to show off her private area as I was to see it.

"You could be a professional masseuse," were the words that softly came from Aunt Laura. As she said this, she bent her left knee, placing her foot under her thigh and then she momentarily lifted her butt off the lounge causing her dress to ride up to her waist. The open display of Aunt Laura from her feet all the way up above her panties to her sleek belly was a beautiful sight to savor. "I want the full effect," she said, not bothering to cover anything, leaving her knee bent upward. "I can trust my favorite nephew to do a good job, can't I?" 

"Yes," my mother answered for me, "especially with his mom watching over his shoulder." The sound of my mother's voice made my nervous fingers tighten their grip a little. But, I decided not to let it interfere, and moved closer to work the now exposed underside of Aunt Laura's gorgeous thigh. 

I massaged the entire length from under her knee all the way down until my fingers were gently against her groin, and then repeated the stroke a few times. Then, I slid my other hand under her right knee and lifted it slightly. Aunt Laura followed my lead, and moved her leg to the same position as the other, looking like she was ready for a vaginal exam. Her spread legs prevented the panties from covering all of her open vagina. Moist pink layers of flesh were exposed, and a panty seam was buried inside. 

My dick was now so hard that I could feel its tip pushing to be freed from my swim trunks. Continuing with my hands on her, I used my elbow to pull back my trunks, exposing a few inches of my shaft, but my Aunt's eyes remained closed. "You shouldn't be embarrassed about this," she continued, "when you were eighteen we were roommates for a few days. I think you stole quite a few glances when you thought I wasn't paying attention. I didn't mind, though. I supposed it was a little educational for you." 

I shifted the circular motions of my hands so that my fingertips lightly brushed across her pussy lips. And with each new stroke I felt a little bolder. As they passed her vagina I started to let my fingers dip inside the warm folds, feeling the juicy inner layers and drawing some of her slickness out across the silky panties and her warm skin. 

I was too scared to look back at my mother's face, but I knew she must have noticed my penis by now. It felt good to leave my cock out in the open for her to see. I wanted her to know how my genitals looked now that I was a man. I'm also sure my mother was watching my hands as they trailed circles across her sister's thighs and into her crotch. It was thrilling to have her watch me give pleasure to Aunt Laura.

I told Aunt Laura that it was time to work on her shoulders. "Of course," she said with a slight smile, and she opened her eyes as she straightened her back off the lounge. When I moved to get behind her, my partially exposed rod passed inches from her face, and the sensation was electrifying.

Standing behind her head, slightly to the right, my dick was in open view to my aunt and my mother, and the excitement was overwhelming. My embarrassed feelings still lingered, and I continued to avoid eye contact, but the relaxed attitude of these two women kept me from thinking I should run away and cover myself

As I worked the tops of Aunt Laura's shoulders where the neck muscles converged onto her frame, she slumped forward slightly, causing the top of her sundress to hang open, allowing me to once again see her breasts and beyond to the delicate folds of her abdomen. Her shoulder straps slipped off easily as I worked my hands outward, causing her dress to slide further down, until her nipples were uncovered. Still, neither my aunt nor my mother seemed concerned about the nudity we were sharing.

I moved the direction of my hands down her chest, letting my forearms gently squeeze the sides of her neck. Aunt Laura's response was to tilt her head back against my crotch with the flesh of my shaft pressed against her cheek. Her open lips were close to my cock. I turned slightly, allowing the head of my prick to rest against her lips. She nudged her mouth out at it, allowing me the sensation of her lips and the edge of her wet tongue. 

"It's beautiful dear," I heard my mother say. I finally felt the courage to look across at her while she sat with her eyes fixed on Aunt Laura's face alongside my erect dick. Aunt Laura leaned back harder, causing my penis to slide under her chin with its head protruding past her jaw, throbbing so hard that it ached. 

"This is the most fun I've had in a long time," Aunt Laura said as she brushed her fingers along the underside of my shaft, pressing it more firmly under her chin. "Mind if I play with him a little?" she asked my mom who was looking intently into my eyes. My mother smiled without answering. 

"I want him to really enjoy this," my mother finally answered softly. She seemed to be pleasuring herself. Her hand was under the front of her skirt, and as I watched the forward and back motions, I presumed she was stroking herself, but couldn't actually see what she was doing. She continued her gaze at my face. "Now that my little boy is a grown man it's so thrilling to see your penis. I mean, since you're an adult, there's nothing wrong with having a little fun. Besides, Aunt Laura and I have been curious to see how it looks." 

While listening to my mother's words, Aunt Laura slipped her panties down off her thighs, knees and feet, dropping them to the patio. Then she pulled the top of her dress further down under her breasts. I liked the way they hung over the bunched up fabric with her dark nipples dangling out. She was exposed from the waist up, and from the waist down. 

"Please don't stop my massage," she said, looking back up at me. "Let's see if I can get that dick of yours to get swollen again." I could see that the points of Aunt Laura's nipples were hard and protruded. "Check this out", she giggled as she reached up with her hand, cupping her right breast and lowering her head to it. I shifted my massaging to her side so that I could have a better view. 

Her lips brushed alongside her areola and she stared at me while I watched her tongue flit from between her barely open teeth, playfully dabbing the dark pointed tip of her nipple, bending it in different directions. I pulled back my trunks even further, revealing the entire length of my shaft, proud of it's elongated state.

"Would you do something kind for us?" my mother asked. "Please don't be embarrassed, but if you don't mind, we'd love to watch your semen come out." My mother's skirt was now lifted to expose her from the waist down. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. I wondered if possibly she had anticipated this sexual encounter tonight, but my excitement prevented me from thinking clearly.




Learning to Love Aunt Laura



As she sat across from Aunt Laura and me with her legs crossed we could see her open vagina. The outer lips were wet, and in her hand I could see the base of a rose colored object. It was a candle from Aunt Laura's patio table, and my mother had inserted it deeply, and she was softly masturbating in front of us.

"Here's another one," she said to her sister, while her hand and pelvis continued in rhythm. "Let's let him watch us." As Aunt Laura reached across for the candle her breasts swayed forward, and the ends of her nipples flattened as they brushed across the glass tabletop. Then she lounged back into her chair and held the tapered candle close to her vagina, pointed in the direction of it's pink opening. 

"Open your mouth little nephew," she said as she looked up at me still standing and staring with my hard dick in full view to both of them. She reached up and inserted two fingers into my mouth, twisting them back and forth to get them wet with saliva. Then, she used the same fingers to rub the outer layers of her labia. She stretched the pliable folds out and away from the center. I watched as wetness seeped from inside her and she used the additional moisture to spread a slick layer around her crotch. 

I'd never had a woman masturbate for me, and now I was watching two at the same time. The fact that they were my aunt and my mother doesn't seem as shocking now as it did then. Masturbation, after all, is extremely intimate, and who would let anyone watch unless there was a high level of trust? There's no one a mother or aunt can trust more than one of their own children. 

Aunt Laura stopped rubbing and grasped the candle with both hands, holding it as it hovered just above her vagina. She looked briefly at my mother, and then just as she turned her smiling gaze to me she jabbed the candle into her vagina and lightly hammered it back and forth with short thrusts. I couldn't help notice that the beautiful layers of pink skin were slick and raw, but she continued the pace, and with each outward motion the very wet candle briefly came out of her and then quickly poked back in before the juicy walls had enough time to close. She laughed a little as she continued, looking at me while I focused on her exquisite display.

My earlier fears and inhibitions were completely dissipated as I watched their performance. My aunt and my mother were giving me a very private show, erasing all my childhood curiosities about their sensuality, and I felt an impulse to give them something in return. I unhooked my swim trunks and let them drop to the patio floor. Then, I moved my hand to my totally rigid cock and wrapped my fingers around the base. 

My mother was the first to notice. Her thrusting froze while she let out a long soft moan. Her legs buckled together and her torso lunged forward as she held the candle solidly. Slowly her body started a writhing motion, and she shuddered into an intense orgasm, all the while staring at my cock. I used my grip to slowly slide the skin back and forth along my rigid mass, hoping the sight would tease her.

Aunt Laura had also focused her attention to my penis as she increased her candle's speed to furious thrusts. Then she sat up, bringing her feet onto the lounge, putting herself into a crouched position. She planted the bottom of the candle into the lounge cushion and she held it firmly while lowering the parted lips of her vagina down over it. She started a new rhythm, lifting her body up and down onto the candle. I squeezed my cock tighter, making it swell into a dark shade of purple, letting it smack across her cheek and eyelids as she bobbed up and down. 

Aunt Laura's eyes were half closed and there was a soft rumbling sound from her throat. In the meantime, my mother moved up to the lounge on the other side of me with her head just as close as her sister's. As we both watched my beautiful Aunt Laura's face contort into expressions of orgasmic pleasure, my mother reached around my waist and grasped me by the hip. My mother had removed her top and bra, and her warm naked breasts were brushing against my legs. I noticed that they were much larger than I ever imagined.

I was now stroking my penis faster, and I was occasionally letting it slide out over the head, and then all the way back to my balls, watching as the effect of my movements seemed to stimulate my aunt and mother into greater ecstasy. Feeling my mother's fingers dig tightly into my hip and ass, my teasing seemed to be working well, especially as one of her fingers pressed hard and slightly into my hole. No one ever touched my anal opening, and as I let my mother have her fun, I knew I'd never let anyone else do it except her.

"He needs some lubrication," my mother whispered. Aunt Laura then turned her face directly at my cock and opened her moist lips. My mother let go of my hip, wrapped her hand around my shaft and took over my pumping action. First Aunt Laura lightly kissed the end of my dick. It was thrilling to watch as they followed each other's lead, playing with my private parts. The pleasure they were deriving was obvious as they continued pumping in and out with their makeshift dildo candles. 

Aunt Laura put the head of my dick in her mouth, and then twirled her hot tongue in circular motions while she slowly covered the length of my penis until her lips reached my mother's hand. In unison they worked my shaft back and forth, with my Aunt Laura leaving a trail of her warm saliva to be squeezed by my mother's tight grip. 

As they continued my cock started to heave, and Aunt Laura increased the intensity by grazing her teeth along the top of my shaft while simultaneously dragging her tongue along the bottom. My mother kept her gaze just inches away, staring at my cock. The glowing smile on her face erased all my earlier feelings of guilt. Apparently my mother and her sister saw nothing wrong with giving me pleasure, and I loved them for their intense display of affection for me. I felt that something this beautiful couldn't be wrong.

As my cock kept rhythm with Aunt Laura's wet throat and my mother's caressing hand, the first sensation of eruption emerged from inside my groin. I knew that orgasm was inevitable, just a matter of moments, and I told them as I looked down. The sight of their four luscious breasts swaying and bouncing into each other and into my flexed thighs sent electric-like surges through me. And the heaving grew stronger into more of a thrusting jerk of my pelvis, and they hung onto me as though their lives depended on it. They knew I was about to burst, and instead of preparing for my ejaculation, they continued, and I realized that it was their intention for me to come into Aunt Laura's loving mouth. 

It's a great sensation to feel that your beautiful aunt wants you to shoot your sperm into her throat. It makes the pleasure more intense, it makes the orgasm sustain longer, and combined with the tightly wrapped fingers of your mother's hand on your cock, it doesn't get any better. Once, twice, three times the early spurts quickly jolted into her. I paused for a deep breath and then everything seemed to change into slow-motion, as the next gush was intensely long and drawn out, and ended in a shudder, only to repeat itself as again my semen fluttered through my throbbing rod, and then again, as my mother and my aunt skillfully manipulated my genitals.

When I felt like I was going to fall down they seemed to sense it, and they held me up. They had discarded the candles to devote their efforts to me. Moaning and almost breathless, my penis continued to spurt every drop from inside me. I watched Aunt Laura as the layers of her throat glided inside their fleshy encasement in up and down motions, and I realized she was swallowing my juices. I reached to place my fingers there, feeling the work she was doing, and I stroked her neck until she was done.

Sensing my exhaustion, my mother guided me to lie on the lounge and she knelt by my side, kissing my face and neck, stroking my hair. She moved her mouth close to my ear. "Next time I want to watch it shoot out," she whispered.

As I nodded "yes" to my mom I realized that there must be a common thread of lust and desire within a family. Apparently the three of us had inherited the same lusts and desires, and I was happy to be part of their fun. With my mother and aunt on each side of me, they pulled my shorts back on, while alternately kissing my face and playfully sucking at my slick limp penis and balls before covering me with a blanket. 

I spent the rest of the night sleeping under the stars on my Aunt Laura's new patio, dreaming visions of the next encounter, knowing we had given each other more than anything that just two people could share. I also knew that this was not something I was ready to share with my girlfriend until our relationship was stronger, until we were like family. 



Learning to Love Black Guys



When I entered college I never expected to lose my virginity. More importantly I never thought I would have lost it to a black guy. I was in my Junior year at Oklahoma University. I had my own room and shower because I was an RA (Resident Advisor). It was a school day I was on my way to class when a handsome black man named Terrence came up to me. He was dressed in saggy pants. He looked at me. I checked him out. He had a lip piercing. I think it was a Labret peircing. He looked like a tough thug or gangster. He said "baby, you look hot". I thanked him and he put his on my waist and asked what size bra did I wear. I thought that was a very strange thing to ask and I told him 36C. He started asking lots of questions.

He asked if I was interested in black men. I told him I never thought about it. He put his hands on my butt and pulled me closer. He got me against the wall and we started kissing. I told him I am starting to get more interested. I gave him my key to my dorm and told him to wait there for me. He told me he will be there. During class I could not focus on the lecture, I was thinking about Terrence. I was getting curious. I wondered what my family would think if they knew I had desires for black men . As a Southern white Christian girl it would seem that I would not be interested in black guys. I was always seen as sweet and innocent. I even wondered how my boyfriend would take it.

Once I got back to my dorm Terrence was naked on my bed. Terrence obviously does not waste time. I felt bad because I was dating a guy as named Justin, who is white, I always refused to have sex with him, I told him I was waiting. The most I gave Justin was a blowjob. I noticed a difference in Terrence's penis size. Justin had a small little dick. He was only five inches long when hard and the girth was average. Terrence had a nine inch cock with a thick girth.

I walked in to the room leaving the door open and sat on his lap. I took off my shirt and bra. Terrence started licking my breast, squeezing and sucking on my nipples. I got up pulled off my jeans and thong. He told me he loves how my pussy was shaved and pretty. I got on my knees and put his shaft between my boobs. I bounced my boobs getting him harder. I sucked his balls and licked it. I had to open wide to suck on his impressive big dick.

There were four who came in and watched as my head was bobbing up and down and my lips wrapped tightly around Terrence's cock. I was enjoying how great it was. The guy's were I got up and laid on the bed letting Terrence eat my pussy. He put his fingers in and opened my pussy and he licked deep inside. I was getting loud enjoying his tongue. After he finished I knew I was ready to have him put his dick inside me. He started rubbing the head of his dick on my pussy lips. I spread my legs wide and he pushed his dick into my pussy. I wrapped my legs around him we were kissing. He was bouncing on me real hard. We traded places; whereas I was on top grinding on him I was rubbing on his chest and he was squeezing my boobs. 

As I got off he asked if I was willing to do anal. I was scared to get his big dick in my ass, but I decided to do it. I leaned over the bed and he licked my crack and shoved his dick into my ass. My ass was hurting and I was getting tears in my eyes. He pulled out and I turned facing him he lifted me up and fucked my pussy while standing. I started cumming. He sat me down and I was on my knees sucking his dick until he jizzed in my mouth. I spitted it out, but Terrence wiped it with is fingers and put it back in and I swallowed it.

We got the other guys out of the room. Terrence stayed the night and we could not keep our hands off of each other. We kept kissing until we fell asleep. In the morning we got up took a shower together and fucked one more time before heading out. Terrence is the reason I got into black guys.