Friday, August 7, 2015

First Service

My date with Isabel was a couple of nights ago, and I am amazed at what I let her get away with. She is such a bitch. I don't understand how I let her do all the stuff she did. It was just such a mix of excitement, and her control, and the cool stuff she has, and how everyone everywhere treats her so well. But it was also getting humiliated in public and being treated like shit, and finally getting my balls busted! For nothing! I mean, I have been slapped before, but I usually deserved it. This time, I hadn't done anything but insist we go home because I had to work the next day!

Yesterday around 5:00 she texted me and said she had a really nice time. That made me feel so weird. I mean, I wanted to hate her for having kneed me in the gonads, but then, having her text me and actually be nice to me? I sort of felt myself melting and remembering all the good stuff about her.

See, that night, after my balls stopped aching, I masturbated. Twice. The first time I was thinking about how she felt me up in the store with all those people watching; the second time I was thinking about her kissing me, her body pressed against mine, and then her kneeing me in the groin. Yeah, I actually masturbated to the memory of her smashing my balls. I tried remembering being on top of Val a couple of times, the feeling of that babe wrapped around me while I hammered her cunt, but no... I thought about Isabel kicking me between the legs. Just... weird.

Then she texts and says she wants me to come over again tonight, just the two of us at her house. I had so sworn never to have anything to do with her again. I texted back and said no and immediately regretted it. Who knows what would happen? Alone with her, at her place, the two of us. It is clear she is interested in me in some sort of weird perverse way. Then again, I really don't want to get kicked in the balls again.

Valerie was a fuckin' bitch at work. I don't know why, maybe she is still angry over my canceling our date. 

So after texting Isabel "no", she texts back "See you at 7:30". That's all.

The first time I saw her I was so swept off my feet, I just wanted to get to know her. Now it looks like we are actually spending time together, something might happen, and I am so fucked up inside about it. 

7:30 rolls around, and you know where I am? Yep. Ringing Isabel's doorbell. 

She answers wearing really causal jeans and a sort of loose baggy top, and smiles in a way that lights up the world. She leans into me and kisses me, on the lips, tongue and everything. Not a friendship kiss, a lover's kiss. 

"Before you come in, you need to clean up the mess you left last night."

I'm like... what? She points behind me, and there is this crusty stained bit of concrete where I vomited the night before, when she kicked my balls.

"What? You... you are kidding. You want me ..."

Isabel's look turned really serious so fast it scared me. "Marc, don't pretend like that isn't your mess. You spewed all over my drive, and you need to clean it up. There is a hose around the side of the house. Just come on in when you are done."

She closes the door behind me.

I go around to the side of the garage and get the hose, and wash down the concrete. It's dried on and I have to work at it a bit to get it all off, but finally it is gone and clean. Per her instructions I open the front door and head in to the living room.

She's working in the kitchen, off to the side, fixing dinner. It smells great.

"Pour us some wine, will you Marc?"

I get out an expensive bottle and pour. Dinner is some kind of mixed grilled skillet vegies on a cheese toast and is fantastic. She is a great cook. She asks me to serve, so I get the plates, and arrange the food and bring it over. We drink a bottle of wine and I am getting a little drunk, but I make sure her glass is filled, and then clear the plates.

She instructs me to get the desert from the fridge, and I serve that too. It's a fruit and cream parfait. I've never been with a woman that has this much class, skill, competence and confidence.

During the meal we talked mostly about my work and she seemed really interested. Halfway through she took off the baggy top, revealing a tight fitting sports bra underneath, and that's all. My cock got hard immediately and it seemed hard to breathe. 

When we were finished, I cleared the plates to the kitchen and washed up as she siped wine in the living room, enjoying the view. It seemed normal, really. I don't even remember her telling me to do it, I just... did it. Now, thinking back, I realized that while she cooked the dinner, I did literally everything else, from serving it like a waiter, keeping her drinks filled, to cleaning up afterward like a bus boy.

So here comes the best part, and the weirdest part. When everything is cleaned up I go and sit with her on the couch and I tell her how beautiful she looks; she tells me I look nice, and she's touching me. Her fingers are sliding all over my neck and arms, and then under my shirt. She was sending out "Sex" signals about as loudly as any girl I've been with, though Isabel sort of oozes sex all the time anyway. Still, having a girl slide her finger across your lips slowly sort of says something, right?

And it did. I lean over and kissed her, and her body just sort of folds into me, like it is molding to mine. Her legs wrap around my thighs, arms around my body, and in moments we are making out hot and heavy.

Isabel oozes sex. She oozed it all over me, my cock was so hard, throbbing, wanting inside her with every bit of focus and energy I have in me. My tongue was inside her mouth, her's inside mine. I started dry humping her as my hands slid under her sports bra and slid the material up, exposing the most perfect breasts I have ever seen in my life. She slid my shirt off at almost the same time and I felt her naked breasts against my chest as I continued to kiss her and dry hump her.

I was about to go for her jeans when she whispers in a hoarse voice, "go down on me. I want your tongue inside me."

Yeah. Oh man was I ready. My mouth kissed and suckled her flesh as I worked my way down her body. She arched her back as I reached her stomach, and my hands fumbled and finally released her jeans. She thrust her hips up, allowing me to pull the jeans down, all the way down, and finally off of her. She was naked except for panties, and I kissed and licked her inner thighs, heading toward that last bit of cloth.

I don't know what it is, but some women are simply perfect down there; their thighs are smooth and perfect, they smell just slightly musky but not sour, they have a nice mound, not dark, just pink. Isabel was amazing and pulled her panties off to reveal her cunt was like a religious experience.

I worshiped at her altar. I sucked and suckled, tongued and thrust. She was not shy at all; she thrust her hips up and guided me in exactly how she wanted it done. Sometimes she even gave directions:

"Deeper. Deeper now. Get in there."

"Vibrate your tongue, make it feel just a little, then... yes... make it more, stronger... keep going..."

"Slide your finger in, slowly, and then more, harder..."

This last was her instructing me to begin fingering her ass. I had never done that to a woman before, but it made her wild. As I worked my tongue on her labia and clit, on finger went inside her vagina and another inside her ass. She began thrusting wildly, hips writhing back and forth, making it harder and harder to keep with her.

As a result she grabbed my head and smashed it into her. Her thighs closed down around my head and held me in place. It got hard to breathe. My finger stayed in her ass, my tongue kept sliding across her clit and into her cunt, and her hands wouldn't let me go.

Gasping when I could, I kept working on her soft flesh, hoping she would cum soon.

It took longer than I thought, or maybe... in retrospect I think she had two long orgasms, one after the other. Just when I was beginning to panic a bit and try to pull back to get more air, she spread her legs as wide as they would go and with a loud sigh, collapsed back on the sofa.

I gasped, pulled my fingers out of her, and rocked back on my knees.

This was the first look I had gotten of Isabel naked. She is a fucking goddess. She works out, and it shows in firm muscles, not too obvious except when she is straining, and her shape is perfect. Her skin is smooth, and breasts just large enough. Her hair flowed down across her shoulders like a dark waterfall.

My cock was ready. I was ready. I needed to catch my breath a bit, and stayed kneeling between her legs for a minute or so, and then began slowly kissing my way back up her body, hands reaching down to my pants, starting to undo them so I could release my cock and slip it inside.

I was about halfway up when she closed her legs, rolled to the side and then got up, kicking off the panty that had been clustered around one ankle.

"That was... good. Reasonable, given it was your first time." She padded barefoot into the kitchen and got another glass of wine for herself.

Half laying on the couch, I was trying to get a handle on what was happening. I burned with arousal. I was horny as fuck. I wanted my orgasm, I wanted inside of her, and she had just gotten up and left like she was done!

"Come back, babe," I said.

She ignored me.

"Babe, let's do it some more! I want to feel you around me, I need to feel your sex and mine, together!"

"Oh," she said, looking at me as if realizing I was there for the first time. "Oh, no, Marc. It's late, and I have to work in the morning. You should probably get going."

The red haze of sexual lust that still covered my vision made it hard to see or think, but I was getting the idea. She was done, that meant I was done.

I stood, fumbling as I found my shirt and put it back on. My cock was going to burst my pants seams. I think I seriously thought about forcing her, not raping her per se because we had just had a lot of very consensual sex, but demanding that I get the same satisfaction she had gotten. But I also remembered my balls aching the last time I had crossed her.

I wanted inside of Isabel more than anything; but to have served her, to have been allowed to touch her pussy, to service her and make her climax, seemed a very special privilege for which I was grateful. I still feel that way. Servicing her was an amazing experience.

It doesn't make sense to me; I would never have let another woman get away with that. I just don't want to cross Isabel, and if this is what I can do to be with her, it is enough. As long as she doesn't kick me in the balls again.

So I got my stuff together and left. She kissed me at the door, told me I was pretty good that night. I asked if I could call her about going out this weekend, and she smirked and said, "Marc, you forget. I call you. You don't call me."

Here I am sitting at home. It's 1:00AM, and I can't get the taste of Isabel's pussy juice out of my mouth. I can't get the memory of how her pussy felt on my tongue out of my mind. I keep reliving how she grabbed my head and jammed me in until I couldn't breathe, and yet I kept going.

I remember Val. I will call her tomorrow, try to make things up to her. I need a really good fuck. But for now, I am still immersed with thoughts of Isabel. This might be the first time I have been with her that she didn't actually physically hurt me in some way. I miss it, and it makes me feel insecure.

There's something really wrong with me and it is focused around Isabel, but I can't help myself.

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