Asexual 01: An Erotic Love Story

Her nipples were already hard.

He smiled down at her. "You are very beautiful," he said as she put a more oil on his hands.

Automatically, she glanced at his groin, but his tight boxers showed him still flaccid.

She seemed almost disconcerted by the sight until Markus began slowly massaging her breasts.

She sagged onto the table with a blissful smile spreading over her face.

He ran his hands in slow circles over her breasts, pressing lightly, moving them around, his eyes intent on her face.

Her eyelids were drooped closed, her lips spread in a dopey smile.

He ran his hands around the outside of her breasts, lifting them and pressing them together while running his thumbs over her nipples.

She shuddered and started arching her back off the table before going limp again.

As he began teasing and massaging her nipples in earnest, her hips began rolling, twitching upwards demandingly with her knees lifting slightly then falling open as her head rolled to the side and she arched again, this time not going limp as she lifted her breasts up towards his hands.

When he experimentally squeezed her nipples more firmly, she lifted her back off the table with her head.

"Oh, you fucking tease," she gasped.

He released one nipple to slide his hand down her belly.

Her eyes snapped wide open in shock. She held herself rigidly, back arched, as his fingers trailed slowly down her belly.

She hardly dared breath as they passed her bellybutton. When they tickled through her patch of pubic hair, she straightened her back convulsively, landing on the table with a thump and an, "Oh, God!"

"This oil is OK?" he asked softly as he teased just above her vulva.

"I can use it as lube," she gasped. "Markus, are you sure?"

"Ssh."

His fingers slid gently over her vulva's lips before parting them, and she made a sound that could have come from an orgasm.

She struggled to hold her hips still as he explored her vulva with his fingertips, teasing the entrance to her vagina and stroking gently over the tiny nub that was the external tip of her clitoris.

She shuddered, then hooked her feet over the edges of the table as he slowly pushed one fingertip, then two together, inside her.

She whimpered, the sound turning into a wail, as he slid his fingers to the first knuckle, then the second, then all the way. He shifted them inside her, wriggling back and forth, then bent them to rub against the walls of her vagina and begin stroking in earnest.

"Oh, fuck!"

All this time, from when his hand began moving down her body, his other hand had been gently kneading at a breast. Now, his thumb and forefinger circled her nipple, pinched it and began milking it in earnest.

"Oh, sweet Jesus! Oh God, faster! Harder! Oooooh!"

He obliged her, pumping her vigorously with two fingers.

"Pinch harder! Harder!"

He squeezed her nipple past the point he was comfortable with, as she urged him on.

She wailed, her voice rising in pitch until she bucked off the table, her whole body shuddering as her vagina clamped his fingers almost painfully.

When she collapsed, breathing hard and staring upwards, he gently massaged her nipple and then the surrounding breast. He didn't pull his fingers out of her until her shaking stopped.

"Markus..." she began hoarsely.

He leaned over her. Her eyes focused on him immediately, full of happy disbelief.

He leaned down to kiss her. She responded hungrily, trying to devour his mouth, while he rubbed gently in circles over her belly just above her pelvis.

"Lie there for a while," he said when he straightened up. "I'd like to look at you."

"Oh, you can look whenever you like!" she said, still breathing heavily. "Fuck me, how did you learn to do that?"

"You're not my first girlfriend," he reminded her. "Most haven't really handled my asexuality well. I learned in self-defence at first, until I came to accept myself. Then... You ever do something for someone, when you're having sex, just to make them feel good?" There were baby-wipes in the cupboard next to the massage table. He began cleaning his hands.

She blinked at him. "Yes, that's half the point. I mean, I know there are selfish people. I've slept with a couple. They don't get a second chance."

He shrugged. "There you are, then. I told you: Sex doesn't squick me, it just doesn't interest me as sex. But I can do things for people I love."

"I may not deserve you," she said.

"I can also cook," he said.

She laughed weakly. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?"

"I may need to borrow a toothbrush. And plug my phone in somewhere."

She gave him a shit-eating grin. "Do you mind if I don't put any clothes on between now and the morning?"

"Sure."

Her gaze roamed over his body. "Do you mind not putting any clothes on until the morning?"

"I can do that."

She sighed happily.

# # #

Markus awoke when Christine turned over and bumped him. He started, remembered where he was, then turned to look at her outline in the dim street light filtering through the curtains.

On impulse, he reached out to rest his hand gently on her hip.

"Mmmm," she said sleepily.

"Sorry," he said.

"You didn't wake me. I think I woke both of us."

She turned over, stretching, then threw an arm and leg across him, snuggling against him.

"I always wake up when a boy wakes up, just in case he wants to play," she murmured into his chest. Her hand tickled around his nipple. "Can I touch you?"

He settled comfortably underneath her. "Sure," he said.

"Really? I don't want to make you..."

"I'd enjoy it," he interrupted her, stroking her back gently.

Her hand roamed over his pectorals before sliding downwards. "Can I really touch you?" she asked, flicking the edge of his shorts.

He stretched lazily. "If you like."

Her fingers wriggled under his waistband.

After a second, she murmured: "It's novel, feeling a flaccid cock. It's sort of nice."

"No comment," he said.

"But it's getting harder," she said teasingly.

"You're touching it. Quite a lot. Quite insistently."

"So, you're saying I could get you hard?"

"You're about to find out."

"Could..." She hesitated. Her hand stilled.

"We couldn't have sex often," he said, gently but with finality. "It will start to feel like a duty for me. I'm sorry. Trust me on that."

"Once or twice?" she asked hopefully. "A week?"

"Maybe. If you can get me hard."

She pulled his cock out of his shorts. It was definitely hard now. She squeezed the head, making him gasp.

"How does it feel, all the sensation but none of the desire?"

"Don't really know how to explain it any differently," he admitted. "But, let's say, I get hard and come because of what you're doing, not the fact you're doing it."

She was silent for a little while, still stroking him gently.

She moved her head to speak directly to his face. "Would you like me to go down on you?"

"I'd be honoured. I'd enjoy it. But I don't expect you to."

She was silent for a minute, still stroking him. "I'd like to," she said, firmly.

"You could ride me," he suggested. "You seem to be quite good at touching me."

"I am well aware of that," she said. "Sorry, that sounded immodest. You know what I mean. But I'd like to go down on you. If it's just my touch and not my body that gets you hard, I want to make you come as intimately as possible. And I'd like to make you come. May I?"

"Sure. If you clean it up," he said, amusement dripping from his voice.

She chuckled, the sound vibrating into his chest. "Oh honey, there's not going to be any spillage."

She threw the doona off them — the night was still warm — and wriggled down the bed until she could pull his shorts off his legs and toss them off the bed, moving so fast he hardly had any time to wilt if he was going to.

She cooed at his cock in the darkness, exploring it with fluttering touches that kept him hard despite his indifference to the sexy sounds she was making.

Markus had little experience in receiving blowjobs. A couple of girlfriends had started that way, either because they thought they should or because they wanted to make sure he wanted them, but their surprise at finding him not immediately eager had turned to shock, then disgust. For a while, it had been widely assumed he was gay.

A few girlfriends had attempted to understand him but had still offered, and he had said yes, but they had not been good at it and if he had stayed hard long enough to come, it had been as much by luck as by their skill.

He was sure Christina was good at it. Her touches were varied enough in tempo, location and force to keep him physically excited, and he could appreciate that as much as he appreciated her skill at massage.

But he did have half a worry he would not stay hard long enough, which would leave Christina feeling humiliated.

He need not have worried. Christina soon had him throbbing and, soon after that, had her mouth around him.

He lay back and groaned in pleasure, making an effort to be vocal to let her know she was doing a good job.

She played with him a little longer than he was expecting, but he was in no danger of falling off the plateau.

He warned her in a strangled voice before he came, but she kept her lips firmly around him and, when he did come, swallowed it all.

Afterwards, she climbed up to kiss him and then snuggle on top of him. "That feels more normal," she said, as he felt her laughter through her whole body.

He put his arms around her, saying nothing but hugging her tightly.

# # #

In the morning, she slipped out to the toilet before he was awake.

But he was awake when she came back to bed, watching her naked approach with a grin. "Good morning," he said.

"Good morning, lover," she said, shoulders back and breasts high as she knee-walked onto the bed. "Normally, I'd ride you like a brumbie, but..."

"Come here," he said, throwing the doona off. "We can cuddle before breakfast."

They lay clinging together for a little while before either of them spoke again, his flaccid cock and her firm breasts squashed hard between them.

"Are we going to do this?" Christina asked into his shoulder.

"Date? I'd like to," he said.

She hugged him tighter. "Thank you."

He kissed her cheek.

"I won't ask you for sex often. Maybe lots of massages," she promised.

"Quid pro quo," he said.

She laughed softly. "But, just so you know: I won't say no if you do offer."

He slapped her arse lightly, making her giggle.

They were silent for a little longer.

"Markus?"

"Yes, my love?"

She giggled again. "Do you really like looking at me, naked?"

"Hell, yes. I'm asexual, but I do have an aesthetic appreciation. You're gorgeous."

She purred against him and tickled a nipple before stopping herself abruptly.

"You know," she said after another minute, "I might be more comfortable being naked in front of you than in front of any boyfriend who ever wanted to take me over the kitchen table. I think I'd like that."

"Go ahead."

"Yay! Have to keep the curtains closed, then."

She pushed herself up. "Breakfast?"

He nodded. "But in bed. I don't know what's been done on your table," he said with a deadpan face.