As Long as It Takes

I was already asleep when the phone rang. Looking at the name on the screen, my stomach dropped instantly, despite my excitement. I was suddenly wide awake, though I answered groggily.

"Hello."

"Good, you're there aren't you - I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Be ready."

Call Ended.

It wasn't really a question, the way she said it, but then why would it be? Where else would I be? It was 1:13 AM. I had work in the morning. Of course I was in bed, asleep. Never knowing when these calls would come, I longed for them and dreaded them equally. But there was no time to think about that now. I sprang into action.

I raced to the bathroom to brush my teeth, rinse my mouth with mouthwash, and thoroughly rinse with clean water. Then came the important step of shaving very, very carefully, and washing my face, patting it completely dry. I applied deodorant, of course. Pajamas in the hamper, I tossed my underwear in too. Then I made the bed, and removed the pillows. After all this, I reached for the switch: lights off - all of them. And the heavy drapes - blackout curtains - in front of the window, I made sure they were closed - completely closed. Alarm clock unplugged, I set my phone face down. Finally, I felt my way to the bed and lay down in the center of it, on my back, naked, in the pitch black darkness.

Face up. Cool air on my naked body, lying over the bedspread. Arms above my head, each hand gripping a slat on either side of the headboard, I waited. Tightening my sweaty grip, eyes trying to adjust to the complete absence of light, I was erect, painfully erect, thinking about what lie ahead, and thinking about just how very long it had been since the last time I'd had any sort of release because...

My thought was interrupted by a soft sound from outside, most likely her key in my door. Squeaking, the door opened then closed, followed by the sound of footsteps. A clattering sound right outside the bedroom door, then I had this feeling of being invaded as the door opened, someone entered, the door closed - closed too fast, and it stayed too dark to see that it was her.

I took a deep breath. The anticipation was intense.

I could only listen in the dark as she felt her way to the bed, dropped her keys and phone onto the nightstand, and sighed. The bed moved slightly. She had leaned on it as she took off her shoes, her socks, whatever was on her feet, then I could feel everything shift to my right as she sat on the side of the bed. The mattress shifted again, sharply, while she pulled down whatever sort of pants she was wearing, slipped out of them, then jostled again as she slipped out of her panties. Whatever she wore on top, of course, stayed on her body. A few seconds later I felt a bare knee crash into my ribs, then a hand press onto my chest, and seconds later felt someone deftly flip over me, straddle me, so that she was sitting on top of me just below my neck. I could feel the weight of her with every breath, then feel her hands, small smooth hands with short-cut nails, began to trace the contours of my face, inspecting it in the dark, gently caressing the smoothness of my cheeks. I let out a very deep breath, which she answered by tracing my lips with her fingertips.

Apparently satisfied, she readjusted herself roughly, pushing herself up somehow. I felt her hands again, this time on the back of my head, gripping me firmly, then I sort of sensed her heat in front of my face. I just knew. A slight rise in temperature, a very slight hint of that very specific smell, and I knew exactly what was directly in front of me. Immediately after, I felt her smooth inner thighs against my ears, then I slowly felt her warm crotch lower itself against my face. I'd thought I was erect earlier, but now what I was experiencing was downright painful. She pressed down, then pulled back, maneuvering herself against me until her sweet little spot was exactly where she wanted it above my mouth, then pulled back again, ever so slightly. I took a very deep breath, both nose and mouth inhaling her unique scent and taste, and waited just a second. Then I pressed my lips firmly, in an intense, lingering kiss, against the soft folds of Riley's pussy.

She sighed, ever so softly. I kissed again, a little harder, a little deeper. Kissing again, ever so slightly longer, I teased her. Repeating these kisses, deeper each time, I finally heard the softest of little moans. Breathing in deeply again, I pressed out my tongue, just a little, licked her just a little, traced her contours slowly as she whined. Then I licked harder, a little deeper, and felt something shift in Riley.

Gripping the back of my hair with both her hands, she simultaneously let the full weight of her compact body fall onto my mouth before clamping onto me, gripping my sides with her legs, her feet pressing into my lowest ribs. Trying to breathe through my nose I let my tongue extend, thrust, then thrust again and again, into Riley, finding her tempo, listening to her panting.

We found each others' rhythm - my tongue, her pussy - thrusting and rocking, over and over, deeper and deeper, round and round. Sweet little moans, soft little sighs, almost silent. She let go of my hair, slid her hands along my cheeks, pressed her palms flat against the bed, then gripped my neck tight again, still panting, finally pulling back, still not satisfied, not there yet. I knew, from experience, this would take a long time.

A few seconds later, when I felt Riley's pussy against my mouth, I started with the little kisses, the tiny ones I knew she liked, then the stronger kisses, then opened wide, taking as much of her mound into my mouth as possible, sucking. My tongue pressed against her inner folds as I sucked gently then more firmly, gentle then firm, tasting that sensational flesh inside my mouth, pussy folds on my tongue, her mound sliding along my upper lip, so very smooth with just a hint of rough bristle where Riley had shaved.

I loved this, trying hard to imagine in the dark what she looked like above me. Sucking gave way to long, firm licks, slow then fast, even slower, then a little faster, then corkscrewing thrusts, Riley completely on top of me, slowly twisting down onto me, twisting again, and again, as I thrust deep with my tongue, again finding each others' rhythm.

My tongue tried to find her sweet little spot as it worked inside her. We were working together, my face in Riley's hands, my hands gripping the headboard slats tighter, pressing into her with my face, working together, Riley trying, trying so hard, then finally a moan, long and slow, long, slow and beautiful, a not-quite-satisfied-yet moan from Riley as she pulled away for a second.

I could sense the heat of Riley's crotch near my lips in the darkness for just a few seconds, before she thrust it full force into my face. Over and over, pounding my mouth, harder and harder, until she slowed, sliding her soles against my ribs, a little moan, not quite there, so we started again.

Little kisses but slightly firmer this time, then the open mouth licking, then the sucking and corkscrewing, everything again, longer this time, much longer, over and over again, taking our time together, we worked together, thrust by thrust, my tongue and Riley's pussy, long slow wet corkscrewing thrust after long slow wet corkscrewing thrust. I knew her rhythm, tonight's rhythm, and I wanted this for her so bad.

Over and over, I licked, and I sucked, and my tongue, already sore, worked harder. Riley thrust harder into my mouth, a little bit more of a moan, the first hints of frustration in her voice, before she slowed down, and we started it all again.

Firm kisses first this time, long slow licks, then more tongue thrusts. Riley moaned, a different kind of moan, and surely I thought we were getting somewhere. We were working together, faster this time. I strained my neck, pressing my head upward to thrust my tongue as far as possible into Riley each time, and she was getting so close, her little moaney squeaky voice was coming out and I was preparing for the rush of tiny little pulses and the wash of fluid and still we were moving together, in sync, ready, then Riley loudly whispered "oh come on!" and her rhythm shifted and slowed, and she lifted for just a few seconds, repositioned, and we started again.

She was so close. I gripped the headboard slats as tight as I possibly could. I wanted so badly to let go of them and grab Riley's ass, push her as hard as I possibly could into my mouth, help her along with all the pressure I could manage, all the force of my strength, but I couldn't. I wasn't allowed. Instead I used my mouth, my tongue, worked my head side to side, moaning myself even though it was Riley's pleasure I was high on.

I wanted this for her so bad, pressing into her, I wanted to see her, watch her, wanted it so bad but it was pitch black and I'd never be allowed, so I just kissed and sucked and licked and thrust with my tongue, harder and harder, as Riley gripped my head for all she was worth, wrapped her legs entirely around my torso, suspended every bit of her weight on top of my face, smothering me, and hammered into my mouth from directly above, driving into me over and over and over again.

My face was raw, my tongue was aching, and still she thrust, working into me, flexing against my mouth, working harder and harder. I strained my neck, pushing my face into her, into Riley, straining to press into her, into her, over and over, until finally, again, that little moan, ever so slightly different this time.

I could hear just a hint of relief in her voice, and suddenly Riley's whole body flexed and arched like it hadn't yet, and her voice took on a different register, not quite screaming but not quietly gasping either, pussy quivering in my mouth as her thighs gripped my head as tight as possible, and I knew it was good, finally, so good, and although my cock stuck straight into the air, frustrated erect against nothing, I was relieved for Riley, so happy for her, awash in her pleasure.

I was so utterly frustrated. It had been seven months since I'd had an orgasm. Seven long months. And yet I hoped this would last. I had no idea how long this arrangement would go on. Riley was most of the way through her freshman year of college. I was nearly twice her age. I was certain that some time soon, she would find someone, decide she wanted a more traditional relationship, tell me this understanding was over. At that point, I'd be free to experience my own orgasms again. But I'd be missing out on all this. I felt so lucky. And as Riley slid off my face, still panting, exhausted, I remembered how this all started, the strangest conversation of my life.

Late last summer. Phone call out of the blue. I almost didn't answer, not recognizing the number. Riley - I'd known her for years, but could hardly remember how long. I knew her family, had seen her grow up. I wondered why on earth she wanted to talk to me privately.

Things only got stranger from there.

I met Riley in a nearly deserted cafe one afternoon after she finished soccer practice. Classes hadn't started yet, but she was playing for the university, and had workouts at least once, if not twice, a day. I'd almost forgotten what she looked like. I hadn't seen her in at least a year, after all. Now eighteen, beginning college, she sort of stunned me. Yes, I'd remembered she was short, though I hadn't remembered how short. She had a compact soccer body, sort of sleek and muscular. But her face was the same - cute and warm. She smiled at me, and slid into the seat across the booth from me.

"Ohmygod! It's been too long!"

"Hi Riley! Good to see you."

She flipped back her hair, shoulder length and dark blonde, and smiled again. She looked down, seemed like she didn't know how to begin, so we made some small talk. Riley still wore her practice jersey and shorts, and slid back and forth nervously a bit in the booth. We spent a few minutes catching up. Finally, she started working around to her reason for calling me, but not before looking around nervously to make sure we were alone.

"God this is so embarrassing."

I didn't know what to say. I tried to be comforting.

"Don't worry Riley - you can talk to me about anything."

She put her face down in her palm, smiled an awkward smile, and let out a long, loud sigh, like she didn't know how to begin either. Finally, she looked back up at me, hair a mess.

"OK Chris. I'll just spit it out. This is about sex."

I took a deep breath. I wondered why she was bringing whatever was on her mind to me.

"I see, Riley. Try not to be embarrassed. You can talk to me about sex. Any questions you have, if you're sexually active..."

"I WANT to be sexually active, I'm TRYING to be sexually active, but there's this problem." She bit her lip, hard, threw her head back for a second, then looked me straight in the eyes. "I can't have an orgasm, Chris."

"I see. That's a problem."

"IT IS! Every time I try to give myself one, on my own, I can't even come close. Can't. Even. And with someone else, something just happens, I get closer and closer but I JUST - CAN'T - GET THERE."

"God, Riley. That's awful. Have you talked to anybody about it?"

"I'm talking to you."

"I mean like a therapist or something."

"I'm eighteen. I'm still on my parents' insurance. Can you imagine the conversation if I had to tell them why I was going to therapy? I mean..."

"There are ways to see someone privately."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but... But there's a reason I'm coming to you with all this."

I didn't want to ask, but I had to. "And that is...?"

"Oh Christ." Riley looked up at the ceiling again, then looked around. "It's because the last time I got off, I mean where it really worked, well, I was thinking of you."

I couldn't help smiling, just a little. "I see."

"I mean this was around - no it was on the actual DAY of my 18th birthday party. I was out at Brayer's picking up food, and I saw you in the parking lot, walking into somewhere. I knew it was you, and I like, remembered how nice you always were, but right then it struck me how good you look."

I looked down, and blushed a little. Maybe a lot.

"So anyway, like, that night when everyone was gone, I imagined us together, and loved it, and rubbed myself raw, and OH my god, it was so amazing, better than I remembered it ever feeling before. It seemed a little weird, because like, you're a lot older, so when I tried again I thought of guys I know my age, and the times I've been with somebody, none of those times, well, it just doesn't work."

"I'm flattered, Riley, I really am. It's just - I don't want to make you more embarrassed, but why are you telling me all this?"

She paused, and gave me a shy smile.

"I want you to help me."

"Help you?"

"I want you to give me an orgasm once in awhile. Or at least try to."

Suddenly, I was both excited and nervous.

"Riley! Wow, I mean..." I was suddenly looking over her body, excited. Beneath her soccer jersey, she probably wore a sports bra, but as Riley leaned back it seemed I could almost make out the faint outlines of two small, firm breasts. I remembered seeing her legs as she'd come in - smooth and shapely, athletic. Riley looked good, and I was undeniably excited.

"Of course we won't actually be having sex - not, like, intercourse sex."

She heard me sigh, suddenly a little disappointed, but still excited at whatever she might have in mind.

"I know Chris, but I'm not going to do that with anyone except, like, an actual date, or actual boyfriend. Besides, it would be totally weird."

As if this entire conversation isn't weird enough, I kept myself from saying.

"But I have some ideas how you can make me come - ways that I'll like.

I smiled at her devilishly. "Sounds fun."

Riley laughed. "God you're funny. Don't get too excited." I was indeed getting excited, my eyes roaming over her sexy body. "You won't actually get to like see me. It'll all have to be in the dark."

Again, I felt disappointment well up inside me. "In the dark?"

"Yeah Chris. You're not allowed to actually see me naked. That's for, you know, a boyfriend."

"Right. A real boyfriend." I smirked. Riley didn't catch my sarcasm.

"Exactly!" She lit up, seemingly happy that we were on the same page.

"I get it. So you want me to help you get over this problem."

"Yeah, like, it's totally embarrassing when I'm with a guy and I can't. And I'm just not good at faking it. So, like will you? Pleeease?"

I wasn't sure if this was a good idea, but Riley just looked too good, too hot, too cute to say no. I sighed, and resigned myself to whatever ideas she had.

"Of course, Riley. I'll help you."

"Yay! So I'll tell you more when you actually help me."

"I can't wait." I wasn't lying.

"Oh Chris. One more thing." She pulled her hair back like she was about to put it in a ponytail, then let it drop. "I don't think you can really try your best to help me unless you actually understand what sort of frustration I'm in. And it's embarrassing when I feel like the only one. So like, for the time while you're helping me, you're not allowed to have an orgasm."

I think I gasped. "Riley? Excuse me?"

"If you go without, it will help me feel more connected to you, and also give you more incentive."

"But no orgasms?"

"Welcome to my world."

I took a deep breath, looked down, looked around, felt the world dropping out from beneath me. "How long do you expect me to be helping you?"

"As long as it takes." Riley smiled.

"But there's no way I can help you unless...I mean...really?"

Riley looked serious. She put both her short-nailed hands flat on the table, and leaned in. I looked directly into her eyes, those pond-like circles of brownish green, or was it greenish brown, either way, I'd only ever seen that specific color in Riley's eyes. She took a deep breath, and I knew she was serious.

"It's. Important. To. Me."

She held my gaze. I let out a breath of surrender.

"Alright. I'll do it. And I'll do it your way. I do want to help you. So - I'm in. OK, Riley."

To my surprise, she didn't smile, or react in any way to indicate she'd gotten what she wanted. She just stared at me.

"Not 'OK Riley.' It's 'Yes, Riley.' Got it?"

She looked dead serious. It was scary.

"Yeah." Riley opened her eyes wider, as if correcting me. "I mean, I mean Yes, Riley."

"What was that?"

It still seemed difficult - weird and awkward and embarrassing to be forming these two words.

"Yes, Riley." And something inside me, all my bravado, confidence, way of being in the world, just seemed to deflate. Riley smiled, just a little, barely noticeable.

"I'll be in touch."

And with that, she got up, walked out, and left me to wonder what I'd gotten into.

Now, in my room, Riley lay beside me breathing a long sigh of satisfaction. My arms still above my head, gripping the headboard posts, I heard her slide off the bed. A few seconds later, part of the room near my nightstand began to glow. Riley was looking at her phone, checking texts.

In the bluish glow of the light, I could see Riley's face. Oh fuck she was so beautiful. Her almost-blonde hair fell over her shoulder, which was covered by a thin, long-sleeved lycra top. I followed the dimmer light down her shirt, and could barely see a hint of bare flesh, just below the seam.

I tried to be silent. I knew I shouldn't do it, but I just couldn't help it. Riley was distracted, texting something to someone. I lifted my head ever so slightly, and peered over my right arm. In the very dim glow of her giant phone, I could just barely see Riley's naked flesh a few inches below the seam of her shirt. I held my breath so I wouldn't make a peep.

Riley stood slightly angled, slightly toward the bed, and I could just barely, almost, make out her bare pussy. Holy fucking shit it looked good. I tried not to squeal, or sigh, but oh dear god wow. As many times as I'd felt her pussy in my mouth, on my tongue, actually seeing it, just barely, with my eyes was another level of thrill.