"Interview"

H. Jekyll

(FF, cons, oral, reminiscence) 


Copyright 2001 by H. Jekyll.  Permission is freely granted to post on any site 
that does not charge for entrance, as long as proper attribution is given to the 
author.  The story should not be read by anyone under the legal age to read 
sexually explicit stories, or by anyone in a location where it is illegal to 
read such stories.  

I appreciate comments and inquiries, even criticisms.  Yes I do.  Please send 
them to: 
h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com

The H. Jekyll stories are archived in the Authors' section of the Alt Sex 
Stories Text Repository, at:  ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/h_jekyll/

This story first appeared at "Ruthie's Club"(http://ruthiesclub.com/), where a 
formatted and illustrated version can be found.

*  *  *  *  *

Why do you want me to tell you about a first time, Henry? Typical man. Want a 
gay girl story to get yourself hard, huh?

Oh sure, like it's really going to help your writing. Yeah, that's the ticket. 
Well, why do you want it to be about her, Henry? There have been several women. 
Why her?

Henry, be serious for a minute. Friend or not, that's pretty personal stuff 
you're asking about.

I know that. A first time is special, and different. It's also the most private. 
Look, I don't really feel comfortable about this. You've known her as long as I 
have. Why not just interview her directly? You know she has this little crush on 
you.

No, not just as her "guy" friend.

Because I can read the signs, that's how. Who knows? She might even let you fuck 
her. (laughs)

All right. I'll do it, but damn it Henry you keep pushing like this and one day 
you're going to push me too far. Okay, yes I was the first woman who ever sexed 
her. I might be the only one. I think I am the only one, and it almost didn't 
happen at all.

Why? Well, partly because she was so unsure of what she wanted and so afraid. 
That's always part of the puzzle. It didn't help, though, that I was wearing my 
Brando outfit. You know, the captain's hat, black leather jacket, black jeans, 
black boots.

Well why shouldn't it be Brando? You know I'm a fifties sort of girl.

Oh cut it out! (laughs) I am not like that all the time. You know I'm like that 
woman-what's her name?-in the comic strip, the one who's a mousy little thing 
most of the time, but once in a while takes on this biker persona. No, not 
"Cathie." (laughs uproariously)

You yourself never would have guessed my alter ego if you hadn't bumped into me 
at that rave. It just happens that I was butched up nicely when I met her, and 
she probably took me to be Satan incarnate. Luckily for me she was looking for 
Satan. Or Lilith.

Why was I attracted to her? Why are you attracted to anyone?

Well, because she reminded me of myself when I first-what? Just a second. No 
thanks. I'm fine. Where was I? She reminded me of myself when I first came over.

Henry, this life wasn't something I was born knowing about. I was so very 
normal. Well, I was married, I had two kids, and I was pretty happy. I liked sex 
with my husband, with Brian, okay. There weren't often fireworks, but it was 
nice.

Okay, yeah, sometimes there were even fireworks, but mainly I thought I was just 
one of those women who aren't very interested in sex. I wanted to please Brian 
because I loved him, and I think I was a good lover to him. I know I was.

No, it wasn't like that at all. Losing him was almost as hard as losing my 
children. That was the hardest part of becoming me. You know, things are never 
like you think they're going to be when you're young. (makes a really sad sigh)

He was a dear man. He is a dear man. Let me tell you. I knew I was going to lose 
the kids in the divorce, and then, bam, he insisted that the decree say that I 
could see them whenever I wanted to. He went against his attorney's advice to do 
it.

Yes, and I still see him sometimes, too. We have an odd relationship. It's about 
as good as it could be under the circumstances, I think. I'll tell you a secret, 
something no one but he and I know. We've even sexed a few times. Yes we have! 
But don't you dare tell anyone that or you're a dead sex writer.

I thought we were going to talk about her.

* * * * *

Okay. She was sitting at one of the small, round tables on the edge of the room, 
not looking directly at anyone but peeking all around. She was dressed in her 
"oh-so-femme" best. I knew she'd never been to anyplace like this before.

Well, because that's how I'd dressed and acted my first time. I was scared to 
death, Henry, trying to look like I fit in, afraid someone would hit on me but 
wanting someone to at the same time. I scarcely talked with anyone, and it was 
weeks before I went back.

Yeah. (laughs) I know that's hard to believe, but it took me a long time to come 
out of my cocoon. Anyway, that's what she was like. Not a baby. More like a sad 
housewife. A little mousy under her makeup and somewhere in her thirties.

You're a bastard, Henry! Yes, I desired her. I told you that. So I said I was 
"attracted" to her. How explicit do I have to be? But I felt for her, too. I'm 
not some kind of predator, even in my dykey persona.

Oh, okay, yes, I was turned on by the idea of it being her first time. Who's 
telling this story, you or me? I also thought I could make it sweet and loving 
for her, and get her past that threshold.

She was like me in that she was alone and was trying not to look like a newbie. 
She didn't know anyone, just nursed a single drink and pretended to watch the 
dancing. You know some woman come in here with their friends, playing "tourist," 
but then come back later, alone. It helps them get an idea of what the place is 
like. Not her, though. Not a chance. She had made herself up and screwed up her 
courage and just came on in. She had to be as miserable as anyone can be.

Because she wanted to make that transition but was afraid to do it. You know, 
that old approach-avoidance behavior. Henry, for a social scientist you 
sometimes seem pretty much out of it.

She wouldn't have been there at all if she weren't pretty driven. Trying to 
become what everyone despises. If she was like I'd been, she was confused about 
herself and afraid that life was going to pass her by. Trapped. (a pause; her 
voice becomes quiet, pensive)

When I turned I felt so trapped. I cried whenever I was alone because my whole 
life seemed to be a fraud.

I began to hate it when Brian wanted sex, and after awhile this became an issue 
between us. At first he thought it was his fault, then he wondered if I were 
having an affair. As if ... you know it would probably have been better if I 
had.

* * * * * 

Eventually I'm going to have to tell you about my whole coming out, aren't I? Do 
you always get your way? (laughs; her smile looks too bright to me, the kind one 
uses to push down sad thoughts)

Well, no, you're not going to get that, but if you did I promise it would be the 
best loving you ever had. (laughs loudly)

I'll tell you Henry. Yes. But it's a little hard for me, Henry, even though 
we're friends. Please stop teasing, okay?

* * * * *

Okay, I was in my early thirties and knew next to nothing about lesbianism. I 
didn't even know if I knew any. I was so naive. Living in a university 
community, with degrees and political friends and alternative shops and all, it 
now seems impossible that I would have missed everything going on around me. 
There was even a little radical-lesbian-feminist bookstore that I walked past 
all the time, and I don't think I ever paid it any attention at all.

What happened to me was nothing. It was so minor. No one I've told about it 
believes it could possibly have been the start, but it was.

Remember "LA Law"? Well, I was watching it and saw the episode where the two 
women attorneys kissed. It was like boom. It just happened. I remember being so 
struck by it. Everything changed for me right then. You know how people say 
someone is "thunderstruck?" Well I was.

Yes, I've seen "Ally McBeal" and "Friends." All that lesbo-hetero kissing seems 
so manipulated, though, for sweeps week or something. "LA Law" was the first of 
them, and I'd never have believed that it could happen. It took me by surprise. 
Yes it did. It was like I was thrown up against a wall or something.

I remember everything, Henry. The way I was sitting, what I was wearing, all of 
it. I watched the rest of the show, hoping against hope they'd do something 
more. Of course they didn't. This was TV, for goodness sakes. All they were 
going to do was tease. Nonetheless...

I remember getting irritated when they broke for commercials. I was so turned on 
that night that I attacked Brian, something I never did, but the whole time we 
were fucking I was fantasizing that it was with a woman.

No, I don't think I had ever had any desire for women before that. That's the 
strange thing. Believe me I've thought about it a lot. I must have been ready in 
some way, but I didn't know I was. It's one of the ways I'm different I guess. 
I've talked with friends who came out after they were adults, some who hadn't 
been at all gay before, and all of them went through more of a progression, even 
had some childhood or teenage feelings, but not me. It was like I was hit by 
lightening.

Anyway, I couldn't stop thinking about it. What was it like to sleep with a 
woman? What was it like to feel her body? I had to know more.

I had heard about "Personal Best," with Mariel Hemingway.

No, this was a few years after the movie came out. No pun intended. So I rented 
it one day when I knew I would be alone in the house. This was before Internet 
sex became available. That early scene in the movie, where the two of them kiss 
and then start to make love ... I couldn't get enough of it. I kept playing it 
and rewinding. It was like I went crazy over it.

Henry, I've never told a living soul this, but I started masturbating and 
coming. I almost never did either back then. I did it over and over. God, my 
vagina all around my clitoris got so raw that for about three days afterwards I 
had to keep it slathered with petroleum jelly. This is so embarrassing. Why do I 
tell you these things?

I rented other movies, looking for explicit sex, and I began searching out 
books. That's when I first visited that little lesbian bookstore where I first 
saw a poster for the club. I came here about a week later, because Brian was 
away at a conference. Like I told you, I basically kept to myself the first 
time.

The second time was about three months later. I was crazy with hating myself and 
not knowing about myself and wanting a woman to love-any woman. I had thoughts 
of killing myself. (she stops talking and puts her face down into her hands for 
a moment; I'm tempted to try to comfort her, but I think she just wants to be 
alone with her thoughts for a moment)

Henry, seriously, if you ever told anyone I couldn't forgive you. I couldn't. 
(she takes a deep breath)

Once I was there I tried to act like I was open to people, but I still didn't 
know what to do. It didn't matter because in a little bit I was picked up by the 
most amazing woman. No, you wouldn't know her. She just walked up to my table 
and said, "Hello, I'm Amy." Just like that.

No, it's not that Amy. It isn't even her real name. A lot of people still use 
nyms in here. What? No! She wasn't extreme at all. Just because I like to play 
roles doesn't mean that everyone does.

Okay, I know you're teasing, Henry, but please don't. Not now. I'm trying to do 
this for you, but it's awfully hard. Just let me tell it my way.

Okay. Okay. I'm not angry.

Anyway, as I said, she sat down, as comfortable as anyone could be, and started 
talking. That helped me a little. Then, in a few minutes, she put her hand on my 
arm. It seems so silly now, such a little thing, but when she did that I 
couldn't say anything at all. It was like I was under a spell. I wasn't 
completely sure she was going to do anything with me, and I was afraid I might 
drive her away, so I didn't even move.

She asked me if I wanted to dance. There was a slow number playing. She took my 
hand and just kind of pulled me up. On the dance floor she took the lead, so it 
was easy for me.

But oh my God it wasn't the same. It wasn't like dancing with a man at all. She 
was shorter than me, and soft all around. It's hard to explain exactly what the 
difference was, there are so many things. They make it completely different. The 
thing that struck me then, and that stays with me after all this time, was the 
way our breasts pushed against each other. Even though I was still half 
terrified, I didn't want that ever to end. I kept pushing up against her, and 
after a couple of minutes she brought both of her arms down to my waist and just 
reeled me in.

Oh Lord. (she is silent for several seconds)

I had both arms around her neck, and then she started kissing me. She just 
leaned over and did it.

No, it wasn't hard for me at all.

* * * * *

That was the first difference from the story you want to hear. In that one we 
didn't kiss on the dance floor. I did sit with her and invited her to dance, and 
she said yes. But she was stiff in my arms. When I tried to kiss her she turned 
her head aside, just far enough so that I got the edge of her mouth, not her 
lips.

I thought maybe she wasn't interested in me, but when I asked if she'd like to 
sit down she said 'no' and held on to me. I didn't know what was going on with 
her. It was much later before she let me kiss her, and she finally did let me 
touch tongues.

No. I never thought she didn't truly want to be there. Why would she be? Orders 
from her master? (laughs) She was completely uncertain, scared to death about 
what she was doing.

* * * * *

Myself, when I first kissed Amy I was filled with pleasure from the start. The 
kissing was different. Her mouth wasn't at all like a man's, so much smaller and 
smoother. Not big and scratchy like yours would be. We kissed with just our lips 
until the song ended, then we stood on the dance floor kissing and sort of faux 
dancing until the next song started.

You know, I remember the smell of her perfume. It was "Obsession."

Yes, I was. Completely turned on. If I'd rubbed myself on her leg I think I 
would have come right then.

I didn't care that people might look at us. By then I was in love with her. (She 
stops talking again and looks off into space, at nothing. For I moment I think 
she may break off the interview)

When the next song began we danced some more, but mainly we moved on to deep 
kissing. This wasn't tongues-to-the-tonsils nonsense, but open-mouthed exploring 
of each other's mouth. And souls. On the floor, bodies squeezed up against each 
other, everything. I've never had an experience quite like that, before or 
since. No, I wanted sex. By then I really wanted it, but I could have done just 
that all night long I think.

As soon as the number ended she asked if I would go with her to her apartment. 
What could I say? (a very small laugh)

* * * * *

We rode in her car, not too far, and I didn't say a word the entire time. I got 
more and more scared, away from the club, in a strange car, going I didn't know 
where with a stranger. She was fine, though, and kept talking as though nothing 
were going on. When we got there she let me walk up the stairs without touching 
me.

I don't know how much I can tell you about that. I remember only a little about 
how the apartment looked. She had antiques, books, old prints. She was a 
Medievalist. I guess she still is. (her eyes fill with tears, which she blinks 
away)

I remember things about the apartment in general, but not the details. I 
remember it was beautiful. I just stood there and she went around lighting 
candles and incense and a little gas-log fireplace. Did I tell you it was a 
chilly night? She had a couch in front of the fireplace that she folded open 
into a bed.

I was watching this but not moving, just standing where I had been when she took 
my jacket. I wasn't sure I was going to stay, really, but-and this sounds really 
silly-it seemed rude to leave. Nothing seemed real to me.

Finally she came over to me with two glasses of deep red wine. I do remember 
that. She gave me a glass and said:

"You've never done anything like this before, have you?"

I didn't know what to say. She could see right through me. I wanted to seem 
cool, but I was a baby. I couldn't even talk. I shook my head just a little.

"Well, here's what we're going to do: nothing."

"Huh?" I know I said something like that.

"We don't have to do anything. We can kiss a little, and maybe touch each other, 
like back in the lounge. If you feel brave we can go further."

I didn't say anything, but I remember I almost started crying because it took so 
much pressure off me.

"Is that okay?"

Of course it was. We sipped some wine and she told me how beautiful I was and 
how my being so uncertain made me even lovelier. After a bit she took the 
glasses away and came back and kissed me. I could do that. We kissed standing up 
in front of the bed, and then she began playing with my breasts through my 
blouse and bra.

Henry, it was the most erotic thing anyone had ever done to me, I think because 
it was my first time.

Yes, I'll tell you, as much as I remember. She did several things to me. She 
tickled my nipples, pinched them, caressed the skin of my breasts-yes, through 
my blouse-and she squeezed both breasts hard.

I just stood there. I think my arms were at my sides and I was staring at her 
hands, no, at her hands and her face, back and forth. That's right. She had, I 
don't know, a look of concentration. I remember feeling it was odd, but whatever 
her look it didn't matter. She could have enslaved me right then.

After a bit she unbuttoned my blouse, unsnapped my skirt, and started slipping 
everything off me. When it was time to get my bra off she kissed me, and while 
she did that she reached around and unfastened it, so when she stepped away the 
bra came with her and my breasts just tumbled out.

I can't describe my state, standing there in just my panties with this strange 
woman playing with my body and kissing me.

No I didn't have an orgasm, not yet, but it was such an intense erotic feeling, 
like a kind of extended orgasm or something. It was . . . . (she is silent for a 
moment)

I can't, I really can't describe it. How do you describe real excitement?

Oh, there are so many things. My chest was tight the whole time, but there was a 
strange, floating feeling in it, like when an elevator suddenly drops. And I 
felt little vibrations. My head felt full of pressure and to my mind the whole 
world was a dream. I think I gasped and made little noises. I didn't care.

No, it wasn't any one thing. It was being naked in front of a woman, having her 
see me. And it was having her play with my body. Later, when I saw her naked and 
played with her body, I had those feelings all over again.

Okay.

She put her mouth on my nipple and sucked on it and I started begging her to go 
on. I couldn't help myself.

Henry, you'll laugh when I say this. It was religious. Or spiritual. I wasn't 
just horny. It was like I had been transported to another world, and the usual 
rules didn't apply. So, yes, I was begging her, but it was okay. When her hands 
touched me it was different from Brian's hands, or any man's hands, and when she 
mouthed a nipple, oh my. It was charged in a way I'd never experienced.

At some point I started hiccupping. Yes I did. (smiles) So she started kissing 
me deeply again. She said she wanted to capture some of my hiccups, so that I 
would have to be hers forever.

* * * * *

It was right afterwards that she pulled my panties down and began petting me 
between my legs. It was the first time she had touched me there at all.

I was so high that it put me over the top almost instantly. I came right away. 
Listen, Henry, it wasn't just that I had an orgasm. It rolled out of me like, 
like this enormous tsunami. I felt it rush through my whole body, through every 
part of me. Every part! I got dizzy and everything went black. Really. I saw 
little black spots in front of my eyes. No, more like a black mist than 
individual spots.

I had to sit down on the bed. I half fell. Then I think I must have passed out 
for a few seconds, because the next thing I knew I was lying on the bed and she 
was sitting beside me, looking down at me with a worried expression and 
caressing my forehead.

So that was my first time, Henry. It was so-what?-overpowering. That's such an 
inadequate word. Just having her touch me was overpowering, even though men had 
touched me many times. And having her see me naked. Oh God. To this day I become 
aroused if a woman sees me naked, even in a dressing room.

* * * * *

No, we weren't done. Here I was naked and panting on the bed, and she was 
completely dressed. She was in charge. There was no doubt about that. Anyway, 
she brought in some more wine, and we kissed while I recovered. She played with 
my body some more and got me high again. It was as easy as that for her (snaps 
her fingers). Then she told me to take her clothes off her.

Henry, it happened all over again. I started taking her things off and those 
same feelings in my head and chest and all over stated again. When I saw her 
naked I couldn't look at anything else. I mean I had seen naked women before, 
and had just been a little uncomfortable, but this! Her body wasn't at all like 
I imagined it would be.

Her breasts were especially fascinating. I couldn't take my eyes off them, and I 
couldn't stop touching them. No, I ran my palms and fingers all over them, every 
inch, again and again. I lifted them and pulled on them, nipped her nipples and 
gave her hickeys on them.

You know, I have some radical feminist friends. Don't go there. You know exactly 
who I'm talking about. Anyway, they complain about how over-eroticized women's 
bodies are, especially our breasts, but damn I think it's a blessing for lovers. 
Now I feel sorry for cultures where breasts aren't considered erotic.

What? Well, yes I'd touched my own breasts thousands of times. I even played 
with them sometimes. It isn't the same, though. I think I could never get enough 
of another women's breasts. They really aren't at all like I thought they would 
be.

Maybe you should play with another man's cock and find out how different that is 
than playing with your own. (laughs)

* * * * *

Okay, back to my first time. You don't think I've broken the spell? (laughs)

Well, I'm turning myself on and I'll have to find some sweet woman after I'm 
done here. (laughs again)

There were two things about that first time, about her, that I want to tell you 
more about: her breasts and her pussy. No, I like to call it a pussy, because it 
sounds dirty. You'd like to be in my pussy right now, wouldn't you? Yeah, right.

Her breasts. That's where I stopped so let me start there again. I gave her all 
those hickeys. I really, really, liked nipping her. I don't think anyone had 
ever done that to her. No, I don't know where I got the idea. The skin was so 
white that it was almost translucent, though she was almost olive complexioned. 
I could see blue veins under the skin. I started biting and sucking and I know 
it hurt her a little. She started making little cries herself. You know, "oh, 
oh."

Then she began saying, "Please, don't. Oh, not that," and so forth. But I don't 
know how serious she was. She had her arms around me and her hands on my head, 
and even as she was asking me to stop she was pulling me in harder. I don't know 
if I could have gotten out if I'd wanted to. Which I didn't, as you know.

It was the first time she'd acted like I was in charge and it made me still 
hotter. I wouldn't have thought that was possible. It was what made me adopt 
this persona later, that power game. Yes, sweet little Mary Sunshine during the 
day and Cruella DeVille at night. (she pauses)

It was something else I didn't know about myself. How many more things are 
there? (she shakes her head, as though waking herself)

When I finished, her breasts were just covered with marks and she was sweating 
and panting. I simply pushed her down on the bed and pulled off her panties. I 
remember her lying there looking up at me with an apprehensive expression, and 
that now I was in charge.

No, I don't remember when that switch happened. Henry, this was the first time I 
had ever done anything at all! It isn't as though I was waiting for it or 
planning it or anything.

She lay there looking up at me, and she had the most enormous thatch of curly 
pubic hair, dark brown. She had so much that I later found out she shaved it 
from the tops of her thighs and her belly and even around her ass. She shaped it 
into a perfect "V."

So I started giving her head.

No, it was easy. Earth calling Henry! Do you remember how I said everything was 
different? I didn't have any problem kneeling between her legs and eating her. I 
might have started a little slowly, just because I wanted to experience her 
smell and her taste.

Yes, I loved them too. Oh my how I loved them. Especially how she tasted. No, 
the whole thing. Except that I got some pubic hair in my mouth.

Well, that wasn't hard. Cunnilingus had been my favorite thing in sex with men, 
so I just did what I liked having done to me.

Oh yes, it worked all right. (laughs) It worked on me too. I think I enjoyed it 
almost as much as she did. I know I felt powerful, licking or sucking or biting 
a little on her and watching her respond. It was so good that as soon as she 
came I made her eat me, too, without letting her recover first.

So I came again and then we lay together, snuggling and dozing. You know how.

The end wasn't good. We suddenly woke to find that it was 12:30 and I had a 
babysitter with the kids. I had to call and apologize and we rushed to get 
dressed and get back to my car so I could hurry home. Then I got a ticket on the 
way, because I was driving too fast. (laughs) I say it wasn't good, but looking 
back on it, it was hilarious.

* * * * *

Actually, telling you about my first time reminds me of the first time with your 
little friend. Get me another drink and I'll tell you why.

Okay. Thanks.

Well, as I said she reminded me of myself, but she was even more stiff, wouldn't 
kiss in the club, and so forth. I had just about decided that she wasn't ready 
for anything, and I started telling her goodnight, when she asked if she could 
go to my apartment with me.

Yes, just out of the blue. It was the last thing I expected. Of course I agreed! 
(laughs)

It's so close by that we walked, but she wouldn't hold my hand while we walked, 
or even look directly at me. I tried to talk with her, but it was all one way. 
It seemed to take forever to get there.

In my place she sat on the sofa - you know, right by the window, where I have 
that beautiful glasswork you gave me. Okay. She sat on the sofa and I sat on the 
coffee table facing her. She still wouldn't kiss me, and turned her head when I 
tried. Finally I just told her that I didn't think she was ready for this and 
that I would take her back to the club.

You know what she did then? She asked me to kiss her. But she was so stiff that 
I swear she almost seemed phobic. She did finally loosen up, though, and we even 
Frenched.

Then when I tried to touch her breast she froze up again! (makes a sound of 
exasperation)

What did I do? What could I do? I asked her if she was sure she wanted to stay. 
I told her we would go very, very slowly. Then I started rubbing the tip of just 
one breast. When she was okay with that I did the same to the other. Then I 
Frenched her and did both breasts at the same time. This was getting serious! 
She never did anything on her own, but she started letting me do whatever I 
wanted. When I started unbuttoning her blouse she began to shiver.

She gets the most lovely blotchiness when she gets excited, Henry. I swear you 
should fuck her and we can compare notes. (laughs) Well, I got her about ninety 
percent undressed, out of everything but her panties, and then - poof! - she 
asked me if I had a lot of tattoos.

Don't ask me. I guess because I was still wearing my jacket and all. She must 
have thought I was one of those girls who are all covered in body art, and of 
course all I have is this little four leaf clover on my shoulder blade, the one 
I got before I was even married.

So, anyway, I told her I'd show her everything. Then I did a little strip tease 
for her, one item at a time, swinging my jacket before I dropped it, the whole 
nine yards. When she saw my body she relaxed a lot. I took off everything and 
then pulled down her panties, and we basically made love.

One more thing, though. I did do a little power playing with her. I was tired of 
her being so hesitant, so teasing, so I got on top of her and held her down and 
told her I was in charge. I would decide what to do and she would obey me.

You know what she said? She said "Yes ma'am." Yes she did. A natural submissive. 
I tested her. I bit her nipples until I was sure I was hurting them and when she 
tried to push me away I slapped her face. Twice. Really. Then I told her to hold 
her hands at her sides and I bit her some more. She cried out but didn't move 
any more.

No, I wasn't a total dominatrix, though it's not to say I wasn't tempted. Lord 
it was wonderful. But I got sweet and sexed her. As you never get tired of 
saying, I'm a cunning linguist, and I was cunning enough for her. She finally 
got wound up and really, really hot, and came. Then I made her eat me, too, 
which she didn't want to do.

What I did ... what I did was to put my belt around her neck and make it tight. 
I did, Henry. She wouldn't do me and I was determined to conquer her. I made it 
tighter and tighter. Henry, her face was so red before she finally put her mouth 
to me. Then I took the loose end and whipped her with it until she was done - 
until I was done.

What? Oh. Uh, well, about eight or ten strokes. Not that hard, but they did 
leave some marks. Yes, it was so good, so very good. Jesus! I haven't done that 
with any other woman, with any other person. Nothing that extreme.

It swept the dam away for her, Henry. Now, every few weeks I have her come over. 
Straight to my place. Again, no pun intended. No, I don't think she ever goes to 
the club anymore. I'll have to tell you all about what happens another time. I 
really have to go now. Anyway, to give you a tease, a couple of times I tied her 
and whipped her a little. Not that much, or that hard. Enough to sting. I make 
her do different things, always including using her mouth. She has a sweet 
mouth, now that she knows how to use it. She gets hot and she always comes 
beautifully.

You know, true confessions time. Some day I might really hurt her. I'd like to 
take things a little further, you know? Oh sure, what am I thinking? Of course 
you know! (laughs)

So that's my little story. Was it helpful? Did it turn you on? No I don't want 
to see the evidence! (laughs).

* * * * *

(So we hugged and kissed on the lips and you left. That was it, so you thought, 
but it wasn't. It isn't. You don't know the half of it, my darling. You tell me 
things and you think we're oh-so-intimate, such co-conspirators. You don't know, 
really, don't know me, don't know what I'm after. We're intimate, but we're not.

(You asked why I wanted to hear about you and her. I didn't. Why should I care 
about her? I've already fucked her, often. Telling me about her wasn't the 
point. It was telling me about yourself. That's what I'll accept in place of the 
real thing.

(I loved your telling. Do you know that at times you would forget about me, and 
be looking through your mind's eyes? Your voice would change, your telling get 
more fluid, and then you'd be recounting what was actually happening in your 
memory. You were happy.

(God knows you haven't been too happy for a long time, love. I know you have 
trouble keeping lovers, that the ones who like your dominant side all tend to be 
druggies or unstable or whatever, and-yes-that you're a bit unstable yourself. 
I'm sorry that you're alone.

(I can't believe it is so bad that you would sex that jerk Brian, whom I never 
respected even before you divorced. Has he ever had an original thought, about 
sex or anything else? It's no wonder there were no fireworks. Weren't you 
astounded that he happened to come upon the idea of letting you have visitation 
rights with your kids? Do you think he thought that up himself? He'd need a 
coach in the bedroom to be able to do exciting sex, just like he needed me to 
tell him that your kids needed their mother.

(You need someone with imagination and personality, someone frankly like me. I 
could make you hot just like you make our little mutual friend hot, and I'm not 
completely sure I won't do it some day.

(I'm not sure at all that I could make you happy, though, not in the long run. I 
don't know if anyone could. I don't know if you're made for happiness. I'd like 
to try, but I fear it's not to be. You love me in your way, and I love you in 
mine. Maybe I love you in anyone's way. Never mind. What I can do is be there 
for you, and give you someone discreet to talk to. And give you little presents.

(It is supposed to be more blessed to help someone when she doesn't know you're 
the helper, or even that she's being helped. Maybe this doesn't qualify, but 
I'll keep giving you your secret present anyway, dear. I'll keep making our 
little friend go over to your place for those afternoons you love so well. She's 
actually started to enjoy them, even to look forward to them, and maybe you'll 
be a bit happier for all that.)

