Ace in the Hole Ch. 01

*Author's Note*

Though certain events have been embellished, this is based on a true story. Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

Chapter 1

"Asexual doesn't mean I don't feel good when I'm sexually stimulated," Sandra said, as if that sentence made any sense. "It just means I don't feel sexual attraction."

I paused for a moment, considering. We sat on the park bench behind the fountain at the university. It was a fairly secluded area, the same place where the pot-smoking variety would go to do their deed in secret. It was a romantic spot. A spot we'd met many times before. Now, Sandra was my girlfriend. And now, she was playing games.

"So you do feel sexual arousal," I asked, confused.

"Yes," she replied. "Like right now for instance."

"And what do you do when you feel aroused?" I asked.

She stopped for a moment, tilting her head. "Nothing," she replied.

"You never..." I trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

"Can I just say it?" she asked. I nodded. "I don't masturbate," she continued. "I did maybe once, but never again after that."

"Wouldn't you like to..." I trailed off again.

"I'm not having sex," she replied.

"I'm not suggesting you do," I rolled my eyes. She knew how I felt about sex. The fact that she would think for even a moment that I was implying we have sex annoyed me to no end. But there she was, doing it again.

"Good," she shifted slightly in her seat, not at all uncomfortable. I was breathing heavily and desperately wanting to escape the situation. She was always this way. Completely sexual and yet somehow completely unsexual. It made me uncomfortable, but it was just Sandra. I never knew what was allowed and what wasn't with her. And I never wanted to cross the line and do something she didn't approve of.

"You said you wanted to kiss me, though," she said quietly.

"Yes," I replied. "Kiss you. Not sex. There's a difference. Kissing is romantic. And I get it if you're not ready for it, I can wait. And if you're never ready, that's oka-"

"You can't kiss me on the lips," Sandra interrupted. "But you can kiss me on my vagina."

I winced. The way that she so easily used those words was confusing. She was so innocent, yet- wait, what did she just say?

"Wait, what did you just say?"

"You can kiss me on the vagina," she repeated. "You're my first boyfriend and I get wet around you. I'm not sexually attracted to you, but maybe I will be if you help me relieve the sexual tension inside of me."

I stared at her blankly, my heart pounding. None of that made any sense. Didn't her "getting wet" around me mean that she was sexually attracted to me? I told myself that it didn't matter. We had something much more important to worry about.

"You really don't have to do that," I said. "I accepted the whole asexual thing. I'll live the rest of my life with you even if it means... I mean, honestly, I love you more than that."

"I appreciate that," Sandra replied. "But I want this."

She looked into my eyes with the closest thing to fiery passion I'd ever seen her muster. Sandra was not a passionate person. She didn't often have fire in her eyes. She was kind, beautiful, talented, intelligent, and sweet, but she was not passionate. Yet right then, there was a spark of something in her eyes. A spark of something that drove my otherwise logical mind crazy. Hormones blaring, my mouth dry, my member rock hard, I nodded in silent agreement.

And without another word, she unbuckled her denim capris. Lifting herself slightly off the bench, she slid them slowly down around her petite waist and past her perfectly rounded bottom until they fell to the ground.

"W-what are you doing?" I stuttered, trembling.

"I want this now," she said in what was almost a whisper.

She reached to her sides and pulled her blouse over her head, throwing it to the ground alongside the capris. Her mid-back length brunette hair fell perfectly along her shoulders when she put her arms back down. There she sat in front of me in broad daylight, wearing nothing but a bra and panties. I frantically looked around to make sure that no one else was there to see. Though the spot was secluded, it was far from private.

"Literally right now?" I hissed. "You can't wait until we're inside? For goodness' sake, someone is going to see you."

I don't know how I was even able to formulate those sentences. I guess my mind was in denial. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. Her hourglass form was breathtaking when she wore almost nothing. The round plumpness of her butt in comparison with the rest of her petite frame was hard for me to ignore. Part of me wanted to look away -- Sandra knew that I was not going to have sex until marriage. Yet still, she was half-naked in front of me, asking me to eat her out. She gently caressed my face with a twinkle in her eye.

"If you're not ready for this," she said, "that's okay. I just thought you would want to do this, since I'm not comfortable with kissing yet."

"I... Sandra," I began. "This is... How can I say no to this?"

She simply smiled and, with a quick motion, pulled off her bra, throwing it gingerly to the ground alongside her other discarded clothing. Her breasts were as beautiful as they were tiny -- a cups at most, but they fit her like a glove. I stared in silence for what felt like an hour.

"It's okay," Sandra said. "You can touch them."

I reached out my hand instantaneously and caressed one of her tiny breasts. It felt good. It felt really good. I gently massaged it as her eyes flickered closed and she let out a gentle whimper. Almost instinctively, I leaned in to suck on them, but she leaned away.

"I'm not ready for that yet," she said. "Just the vagina for now."

If I had still been thinking, I'm sure I would've questioned how that made any sense at all. But at that point, my mind was gone, and my body had taken over. I hadn't wanted to do this. It felt wrong. It was wrong, and I knew it was wrong. But it was too late. I wanted it.

"Then show me," I croaked, my voice hoarse.

"Of course, dear," she replied. Once more, she lifted her beautiful, rounded butt off of the bench, and with a final motion slid her panties down her legs. She sat on the bench entirely naked. She ran her hands across her body slowly, sensually, as my higher neural functions continued to collapse and my body continued to be confused.

"There's so many," I whispered, not knowing what else to say."

"So many what?" she replied.

"Beauty marks," I choked, staring at the two dozen beauty marks that covered the front of her body. They covered the visible portions of her body, too. Somehow, I had never imagined them on the non-visible parts. Somehow, I had never imagined her non-visible parts. But now I was staring right at them.

She spread her legs.

"I love you," she said, entirely sincere.

"I love you too," I replied.

I fell to my knees in front of the bench. I was a little taller than six feet and she was about 5'7. If she was standing, she would've been the perfect height, but the bench made things a little awkward. I wasn't going to let it get in my way. With a final deep breath, I positioned myself, and plunged my face into her pussy. She shuddered and let out another whimper. At first, I didn't know what I was doing. But slowly, methodically, I found a rhythm, and began thrusting into her vagina with my tongue. The taste was unbearable, yet I loved it. I couldn't get enough of it. I wanted more.

I lustfully groped my hands along her thighs, her butt, her stomach, her breasts -- anything I could get my hand on. I was fully invested in pleasing her. I wanted so badly to please her. Her whimpers became louder and more frequent. She began writhing. Then she began thrusting. I dove deeper. As deep as I could, thrusting in and out with my tongue, barely able to breathe as my nose pushed up against her body. But she lovingly grabbed the back of my head and pushed me in deeper still, until it seemed that every sight, taste, and smell was her pussy. Every sound was her whimpering, which turned into low, steady moans. Every touch was her body and her body alone.

Then her muscles began to spasm. Her body began to writhe even more than before. She let out a loud shriek unlike anything I'd ever heard. A sweet tasting juice flowed into my mouth. Disgusted at myself, I began to love the taste. She pulled at the hair on the back of my head like she was trying to tear it out, pushing me so hard into her that I began to choke. Then the writhing stopped, and her body went limp. It was only then that I realized she came.

Slowly, I pulled myself off of her, my face dripping in her juices. On the floor panting, I stared at the naked body of the girl that I loved. Her face was flushed, her eyes closed. She breathed heavily as one of her hands slowly wandered across her body, squeezing a breast one moment, massaging her vagina the next. I shifted slightly to stand up and I came in my pants. I winced, embarrassed, but there was no way she could notice. She was in a state of total bliss. I threw myself onto the bench beside her and pulled her into a tight, passionate hug, caressing her body as she snuggled in close.

"That was the best thing I have ever felt," she said, her voice trembling. "I love you so much. We have to do that again."

"We have to do this every day for the rest of our lives," I replied, petting her hair, and wishing that I could kiss her.