A 'B' or not a 'B'

The smell of coffee wakes me up. She is standing beside the bed in the full light of late morning looking down on me. She's wearing a neglige that conceals nothing, I can easily see her heavy breasts and the black triangle between her legs. And I can see that the pout is a smile, a warm, teasing smile. "Your mother called this morning. She noticed you hadn't come home, She was wondering if you're all right."

This astonished me. "How did she know to call here?"

"I gave her my full name last night when I told her you were staying for dinner. There's only one Glock in the book." She sat down and kissed me on the forehead. "I told her I hoped to meet her later today. And I do."

She hadn't taken her foot off the pedal. "You do, ah?"

"When we go to your place to pick up some of your things. My parents get home tomorrow and I want you to be living here when they do."

I sit up, scraping my hard-on against the sheets. "This is way too fast, Marta. Way too fast. Let's just take our time. If this is right, we'll know it soon enough."

"No," her eyes became fierce, her mouth the ugliest of pouts. "If I don't get you now, I never will. You'll go back to shunning me as you did before."

"No I won't."

"I'm not going to risk it. I'm moving out on my own. But I'm not going to live alone. If it can't be you I'll have to find someone else, where I don't now, but I'll sure as hell look." She abruptly stood up. "Get up. I want to show you something."

What she wanted to show me was the place she had picked out on the top floor of an old house, just across from a park with bike trails going north and south, north to my school a mere 10 minutes away and south to hers, 15 minutes away.

We stood across the street from the place as she explained in detail the layout we would occupy in two weeks. In the meantime, I would live with her. There was no smiling through any of this; it was all said through her pouting determination.

And there was deathly quiet in the cafe as we waited for our coffee and bagel until I said, "So it's take it or leave it. Take you or leave you."

Her face scrunched in curiosity. "No, of course it isn't. There isn't a choice. You're going to take me because I'm the best deal you're ever going to get and you know it. No, you're going to decide here and now what I've already decided. You're never going to fall in love with me so you're going to have to decide right now to love me and you're going to make a commitment to work like hell in future to make our relationship the best fucking relationship on the planet."

"So we're going to go my house and I'm going to say to my parents 'this is Marta, I live with her now.'"

"Yes, that's precisely what I want — precisely what I think is best for you."

It got quiet again. But I wasn't doing any thinking. She had done it all and I was pretty sure would do it all in the future. Marty Glock. 24 hours ago I thought she was the biggest wussie I had ever known. Now? She's the most exciting woman I could imagine.

I looked over at her as I sipped my coffee. She was rigid; she thought she had everything riding on this moment, it was plain to see. And it was plain to see that she had chucked the thick butterfly bra for the flimsies: her nipples strained at her light shirt. I smiled. "I watched you last night while you were sleeping. Every time I moved a little away from you you reached out for me and moved in. I tried to image what it would be like with you a week, a month, a year, a decade from now and I always saw you reaching out for me, trying to get close to me. I fell in love with that. And I fell in love with you."

She physically sagged. "Do you mean it?"

"I want you, Marta, I want you like you want me."

She abruptly stood up. "We're going to your place to pick up your things. Then we're going home."

I've never thought long and hard about my life, only thought about it in brief, fleeting snippets. But, even so, I've drawn some conclusions about my future.

First, I always knew I would be married; when? I had no idea, but I definitely saw myself hooked up ... like my parents. And hooked up with a serious woman who was practical, unaffected, determined and, because of all that, she would make the decisions. I knew that; I'm just not the type to take charge. I also knew she wouldn't be very good looking; why would she be? I'm not. And I knew I would be devoted to her. That's just my mental make-up; I saw it every day in my house; I've always been thrilled that my parents love each other so much. They are unbelievable role models. But that Marta Glock would be the life-long companion I sought was beyond absurd.

Except that the Marta Glock I sort of thought I knew was anything but the woman who was squeezing my arm against her breasts as we bussed to my house. How, in less than 24 hours, had I made this mammoth mental adjustment was beyond me but I had fallen for her and it wasn't just because of her tits and the sex. The love business was the big one. How many women will profess, convincingly, their love for me? How many will be as sharp as she is? How many will be as determined? How many will be as much fun? Fun? Ya, I've been having a ball with Marta Glock this past 20 hours. I'm not sure why but she lured me in with as much ease as she did with rapidity. I think I wanted to start out on my own as much as she does and I think I was equally loath to do it alone. Actually, as we shuddered along the street I was giddy. I couldn't wait to tell my parents. I was leaving the nest with Marta Glock and I've never been so excited.

"Are you sure you want that?" That's all my totally stunned mother said when I told her and my dad that Marta Glock and I were moving to a flat in a couple of weeks and in the meantime I would be staying with her at her parent's place.

When I assured her it was I was shocked to realize that it was suddenly a done deal. What could they say? We forbid it? I'm an adult; I'm just now acting like one.

And there wasn't a moment's stand-off. At the very instant of awkward dead air Marta, who had so far done little more than stand there, spoke up. "We want you to come to dinner at our place two weeks from now ... to see the place and to meet my parents." What could they do? They agreed and we went upstairs to move me out of a house I had lived in for 22 years.

My mum made nervous small talk as she and my dad drove us and my bags to Marta's place. I pretended I wasn't scared shitless. This was a big step, I wasn't kidding myself. I was making it in one hell of a hurry ... and on blind faith for a woman I used to think disdainfully of as Puckerlips. My decision was either wonderfully inspired or blindingly stupid.

My parents did their best not to create a scene at the hand-over but my mum had tears in her eyes. I pretended not to notice but Marta made no such effort. The moment after I hugged my mum goodbye Marta moved in and wrapped her arms around her. "Don't worry, Mrs. Larson. I love your son and I'm going to take very, very good care of him."

I knew Marta made a lousy first impression; she would with anyone: those pucker lips just aren't attractive; she looks anal, like a tight ass. But her confidence can get to you. When she pulled away from my mum and gave her a reassuring smile I could see mum was looking at Marta through new, if more teary, eyes.

And Marta read me easy enough. The moment we had the bags inside she came into my arms and whispered, "Don't worry. You made the best decision of your life. I'm going to prove it to you every moment we're together. Come on."

It's pathetic that I needed that re-assurance but it was no surprise that I followed her dutifully up the stairs and when I did I instinctively knew I would always be following Marta Glock.

She waited for me beside the bed. It wasn't awkward uncertainty, I knew that. She waited for me because she wanted me to make the first move. To take ownership. The girl is smart.

I put my hands on her neck as if I was about to strangle her then I moved in and kissed her lightly on her puckered lips while holding her away. I felt weak and dizzy, my body seemed to be almost floating. In fact, I wanted to push her onto the bed and ravish her but I wanted most to show her that I had arrived to where she was, that I was totally into this, that I wanted her as badly as she wanted me, physically, yes, but cerebrally, too. And I wanted to be gentle, that was a new-found instinct, I will be a gentle lover, I hope considerate, but insistent.

I licked her lips and nose, I kissed her cheeks and eyes, all the time holding her in place. Then I sucked on her, on her bottom lip, her nose, her eyes while I heard little noises escape her, and me. I could feel her yearning, her body was quaking wanted mine but I continued to hold her back while I left trails of my spit all around her face.

She seemed to be panting when my fingers went down to start on the top button. I took my time knowing that if I could hang on a little long I, we, would have thundering orgasms.

When I parted her shirt I studied her bra. Her breasts were straining at the gossamer thin material, her nipples like towering atolls in a pale yellow sea. I kissed around the skin above the bra then licked on the material, pushing my face insistently into it. Then I sat down on the bed and undid her pants and slowly pushed them down so she could step out of them.

I was surprised at how alluring I found her belly. I had thoroughly rubbed my face on it before and did so again now, feeling the softness, smelling her skin, knowing when I travelled down her hands would be on my head guiding me, encouraging me. But not this time.

"Mike, please," she whispered, trying to push away from me

When I gripped her cheeks and bragged my face down onto her panties I could feel her stiffen and hear her moan. She was as ready as I was so I pulled her panties down and let her fall over me onto the bed. I quickly got up and stripped off my clothes as she took off her bra. Then I was on her.

It was different now than before. Then I, we, were exploring, experimenting, trying to find ways to connect. Right from the beginning she seemed desperate to get me while I was fascinated by the newness of it all. Her desperation was gone now, but my fascination had only intensified. As I crawled between her open legs, as I settled in between her welcoming arms, I knew I was no longer with a woman who was frantically chasing me; I was about to enter a woman I had 'decided' to catch, to commit to, to take as my own. I was conscious of that as I took my stiff prick and placed it at her opening. I was conscious that I had made a lifelong commitment to her and the love that was flowing from me fused us together.

She was squeezing me almost painfully when, seconds later, it thundered through me to empty into her and instantly I went from a coil of sexual tension to a spent force that nearly passed out on her soft hot body. She was little better. I could feel her whole body sag as her cries turned to moans; I could feel her tight grip on me loosen and her legs which had been pounding up against me from feet pressed into the bed at my hips, collapse beside me. We had truly fucked for the first time in a frantic moment of unbridled passion. We were now one, I could feel it.

I rolled off her and cuddled in close beside her, my hand on her belly my leg over hers. The love I was feeling for her at that precise moment was honest, connecting love, not just lust. The hand that was caressing her belly and now going up to her breast was exploring a woman I felt I owned, just as I wanted to be owned.

Her hand covered mine and pressed it into her flesh as she turned and kissed me with her puckered lips which now, strangely, I found alluring, cute. Her lips stayed on me and nibbled as I tightly gripped the fat of her breast.

"Does that hurt?" She hadn't flinched.

She pulled away and smiled. "No, you can be as rough as you want with them."

I squeezed harder pushing the fat up higher until her nipple touched her chin. "Do you ever suck them? While you masturbate?"

She didn't flinch from the question. "I lick them sometimes." She licked her nipple now, then she added, "it doesn't do much for me, nothing like when you lick and suck them." Then she added with a smile, "I like to play with other places, though. Do you?"

I didn't get what she meant. "Other places?"

"Do you ever finger your bum?"

"My bum? Like squeeze it?"

"Tickle it, put your finger in it."

"Your ass!"

She smiled at my reaction and kissed me. "I'll show you. It's great." She sat up and opened the drawer on her night table and took out a tube. "Get up on your hands and knees."

Warily, I did. I didn't know what she was going to do but I trusted her absolutely.

She got behind me and I could feel a cool liquid, a gel trickle into my bum, then her finger was there gently working the stuff down. I clenched instinctively but she laughed. "You'll love this, I promise."

She pushed open my legs a little then her finger touched my asshole and I understood what she was going to do. "Are you sure about this?"

"Positive," she chuckled and she sat down and took my half stiff cock in her hand and gently pressed down on my hole.

She was very slow about it, slowly jerking me off as she slowly pressed into me and kissed along my back. It was like I didn't know if I was coming or going, the sensations kind of competed with each other, the jerking, the pressing, even the kissing. Then her finger broke through into me and I could hear a long, lovely moan escape as I sunk my head onto the bed.

She was licking and sucking hard on my back as she increased the tempo of her finger probe and her jerking. Instantly, I could feel myself start to build and I didn't want to. "Slowly. OK? Please." She slowed and the two sensations, at my penis and anus, gradually radiated out until they fused into one. I had sunk into the mattress when the volcano erupted deep inside of me and she thrashed at me as she bit at my back until I collapsed on the bed, now wet with my cum.

She was gone in an instant and I was almost out when she was back, her hands rubbing my back. "Well?"

It seemed to take all my strength to turn over. When I did I looked up at her smiling down at me. "God, Marta, that was fucking amazing."

She bent down and kissed me on the lips, then all over the face before pulling back. "Will you do it to me?"

"Sure," I said, without enthusiasm. I just wanted to sleep.

But that's the last thing she wanted. She handed me the tube and as I slowly sat up she scrambled over into the middle of the bed and got on all fours, her wonderful breasts almost touching the sheets.

I don't know what I expected out of my sex life. Probably just more time with my hand and my imagination. I never expected a big bosomed, totally willing playmate who encouraged me to try things with my body that I didn't know you could do. Never mind with hers. But her ass was out there now, my pieced of ass as I was coming to think of it, and as I squirted the gel between her cheeks and let my fingers slowly worked the stuff between them it seemed almost natural, as if I was cupping her breast, or sliding my fingers between her legs — her body was mine and I had every right to any access. It was a fabulous feeling.

And it was to her, too. Instantly, she started to moan in encouragement and to shimmer her bottom to more enjoy the sensation. Then her pulled a pillow in, two of them, and sank her upper body on them. "God, I love you Mike, I love totally surrendering to you." And the moans came back.

I pressed through after about a minute of careful pressing, then wasn't sure what to do. Was I supposed to rim the wall, the sphincter muscles as I recalled, or was I to probe deeper or was I to simulate fucking, I had no idea. She seemed to have done them all to me, but I couldn't really remember.

"Put another finger in, Mike."

Another? The one barely fit. "Are you sure?"

"Ya," she said dreamily, "It'll fit, I've a dildo down there."

I took my finger out and when I did was surprised to see that her asshole didn't clamp shut, it kept the same hole that my finger made. I squirted some more gel into it and gently went back to it, this time with two fingers, but very carefully, very slowly and I was very conscious of her reaction. Which was louder moans and I could feel that she had brought her fingers up to her pussy and she was touching herself.

The two fingers proved easier to go in then the one. I was amazed. And amazed at her reaction. She was to ally slumped onto the bed, her legs barely keeping her ass in the air. She was totally into it and it gave me more and more confidence and more and more joy that I could be bringing her this much pleasure.

And then she said it. And I froze. "Put it in me, Mike."

"What?" No. "What?"

"Your guy. Put it in me. Quick."

I had heard of this, of course, but never thought about, never imagined for a second that I would ever actually do it. But in a second or two I was doing it, inspired by the urgency in her voice. She wanted me in her, now and the two finger opening was big enough for me to do it. I complied, quickly — discovering I like kink as much as the next guy.

I went in slowly. It was a tight fit but I eased myself in as she pressed insistently back against me. When I broke through I was struck by an entirely new sensation: the sphincter muscle tightened around my cock like the ring of muscles it is — an entirely new feeling but the greater sensation I was feeling was Marta's absolute vulnerability and her astonishing joy at me ramming into her ass.

She was crying out now, almost screaming, you could have heard her in the kitchen. And she was fingering herself frantically. It took awhile; I was surprised, it took so long that I, so recently spent, could fully recharge and I beat her to the O, or it may have been a tie. But we collapsed together in perfect symmetry and we started laughing as if on cue and we hugged each other through our shaking peels of laughter until she insisted we take a bath.

Good idea.

The intimacy of intercourse is one thing, bum fucking is quite another. As she lay back against me in the tub, my hands kneading breasts that I had literally fallen in love with, I was hers and she was mine. Totally. That's the way I felt: nothing could ever separate us: the casual duality of romance was gone. We were now a Oneness: we will become more than the sum of us. My excitement by the prospects was almost orgasmic.

I don't know what she was thinking. She was caressing my hands as I caressed her breasts, her head was resting on my chest, I could feel my slight stiffy against the small of her back. I thought of the girl at Biff's, and the one here in the tub with me. Same person; two different people. But I knew that wasn't true. She probably hadn't changed at all. It was me who had changed. One, I had got in touch with my sexuality and I now felt much more together as a person. Two, with her at my said I finally gave some thought to my future. But three was the biggy. She inspired me: I finally took a close look at who I am and what I need. I couldn't go through life alone, I just wasn't responsible enough, I lack ambition, drive, competitiveness. I knew I needed her and once realizing that, I knew I wanted her

At this very moment I am over-flowing with confidence. I am no longer in it alone. I'm in it with Marta fucking Glock for crissake. I am the happiest guy alive.

"Come on," she said after we towelled each other off. She took me by the hand and walked me down the hall ... to her parent's room. "I've always wanted to do this," she said, leaping onto the bed. Then she as quickly jumped off and went over to her mother's dresser which was still spilling out underwear. "Which do you want?" She was sorting through the mess of panties. When she looked over at me she chuckled at my hard-on. "How bout these?" She held up a skinny pair that were almost transparent.