Changes

Many thanks to Jenna for all her hard work in editing and improving this story from a previous version.




"Don't stop now!" said Stella.

"I'm sorry," said Mort. "I just ran out of gas again."

Stella was frantic as she tried to think of something. But she saw there was nothing she could do, and finally, she took some deep breaths and tried to calm herself. She had been on the verge of an orgasm when Mort had gone limp.

In a few minutes, she was no longer frantic although still frustrated. "Have you seen a doctor?" she said.

"I asked my doctor about this when I had my last physical, and he said it was a normal part of aging," said Mort. "I told him that when I was young, I could come and still stay hard for a long time, but now I got soft almost right afterwards. He said that was normal, and he doesn't want me to take the blue pill unless I can't get aroused."

"But it leaves me frustrated," said Stella. "I could always count on you for at least one orgasm, but now I can't. What am I going to do?"

"Aren't you dating other guys?" he asked.

"Yes, and they do fine," she said, "but you were always special, and that's why I've never stopped seeing you. You know I love you, but this really throws me."

Stella and Ed had married as teenagers, raised a son and daughter and divorced 18 years later because of his philandering. The children had found out about his cheating when they were pre-teens, and she had to explain that she stayed with him because he was a good father and a good husband in every other way, and she loved him, even though she was as upset about his betrayals as they were.

As soon as both children were off to college, she divorced him. It was an amicable divorce, and they were still friendly although they didn't see each other much for a couple of years. But then Stella was surprised by going through menopause a few years earlier than normal, and for some reason, she called him up.

He had been Mr. Reliable during that time, coming, in both senses, whenever she called him. He enjoyed the unprotected sex with her as a change from using condoms with his girlfriends, and she knew he was careful, so she could trust him.

The relationship cooled off a little after she adjusted and started dating again, but they still got together often for sex. They might do something else first, like have dinner or see a movie, but they both knew what the real purpose of their dates was.

Everything was comfortable until now. She was in good shape from exercising, and her skin was unblemished, so she could pass for someone 15 years younger. She had no problems attracting men, and she enjoyed sex with most of them, but Mort had always been her old reliable. He knew every button to push, and he had always completely satisfied her.

After he left, she thought about their lovemaking that night. Everything else had been perfect until the fizzle at the end. If she gave him up, she would have to give up all the special things he did that she loved, but she really needed that orgasm, too. It was a dilemma. She thought about it a few days and then made her suggestion to Mort at dinner on their next date.

"I thought about your problem," she said. "For me, it's really special when you make me come while we're locked in passion, but now I have to accept that this might not always be possible. So it's not a great solution, but if you do get soft too quickly, how do you feel about bringing me off with your mouth afterward."

"I guess I could do that," he said. "Since I'm not using a condom, you'd have to wash out thoroughly first, because otherwise I would gag or throw up. I have a better idea. I always eat you out during the preliminaries. I could just go ahead and give you an orgasm at the start with my mouth, so you would have one for the night no matter what happened later."

"That's just like a man," she said. "It's like a balance sheet. I get my orgasm and then you get yours, and we're even. But it doesn't work like that. Once we are making love, it doesn't matter what you did before. I'm into it, and you're into it, and that's what makes it much better when I come that way. So I still want to go for that. It won't be as good, but it will just make it slightly less frustrating if you get me off with your mouth when your penis can't do it."

"Well, I guess we could try it," he said. "But remember, you've got to be totally clean."

"You're really concerned about that, aren't you?" she said. "You're right. It doesn't taste good or smell good, but I let you come in my mouth sometimes, because I know you love it, even though you know I hate it. I've never figured that one out."

His insistence on her cleaning out his semen before he used his mouth on her made her think about what his reaction would be if she didn't and he tasted or smelled it while eating her. Would he gag or throw up? The idea excited her.

Maybe that's why he got so worked up when he came in her mouth. Maybe her feelings of disgust and debasement added to his excitement. All of a sudden she really wanted to experience him eating her out after he came in her. But she didn't share her thoughts with him.

The next time he came and softened before she could come, she got up and went to the bathroom and washed herself out. By the time she got back to bed, she was no longer excited. Mort went to work on her, and he did eventually make her come, but it was like starting all over, and something was missing.

After the second time this happened, she realized this was not the solution she was looking for. She remembered how excited she had become at the thought of him eating her with his come inside, and she decided that would work a lot better. She wouldn't have to get up and break the mood. It would seem more natural for Mort to just go from penis to tongue as part of the buildup to orgasm. But how could she get him to do it when he was so scared to try.

She thought hard and came up with a plan. It was a crazy plan, and she wasn't sure it would work. On top of that, it required a lot of effort on her part. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that the only alternative was to drop Mort, and she really didn't want to do that.

So she started working on her plan. Part 1 was to become an amazing lover. She began reading books, watching videos and taking notes. Whenever she saw a magazine at the supermarket with an article on sex tips -- and this was at least once a week -- she bought it.

But she didn't only study. She did lab work, too. She was dating four or five men besides Mort. One of the others, Ollie, was a regular, like Mort, but the rest were occasional. She began trying out some of the things she was reading about on her sex partners and noting their reactions. She started with the infrequent partners, and then she made adjustments before using the techniques on Ollie or Mort.

It surprised her how different each man was. What sent one into orbit was a total turn-off for another. As time went on, she figured each of her men out, and now when she tried something new, she could almost predict how they'd react. She was pleased that Ollie and Mort were the most similar.

She started focusing on them and making their sessions more exciting. She could hardly sleep from excitement one time when Ollie told her that she needed to take it easier on him or he was going to have a heart attack. But she kept pushing the bar slowly higher on him and even more on Mort.

One night at dinner, Mort said, "What would you think about getting married again?" he said.

"What?" she replied, almost spitting out her food.

"I think my wandering days are over," he said. "I've stopped dating other women. For the last few months, I've only been with you, and it's been so exciting that I don't even look twice at other women anymore. You know I've always loved you, even when I couldn't control my hormones."

"I'm really flattered, Mort," she said. "And for the last month, I've only been dating you and one other guy. But I think it would be a mistake to live together again. I've gotten used to handling my daily life without having to think about another person, and it would be hard to change. But if you're talking about spending more time together, I'm not against that. Let me think about it and we'll talk about it some more next time."

That night she went all out, and even though he got soft too soon, she didn't let on, and by the time he left her house, he could barely walk. After she shut the door, she had a glass of wine while she thought about his proposal and smiled. I think my plan has worked, she thought.

She called him the next day at work and invited him over for dinner. "There won't be anything afterwards tonight," she said, "but I want to talk to you."

She cooked some of his favorite dishes and watched as he ate them with relish. After she poured him coffee, she broke the news.

"Mort, I'm glad you enjoyed this meal," she said, "because it might be our last supper."

"What do you mean?" he said with a gasp. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, "but when you proposed last night, it made me finally decide that things can't go on this way."

"I don't understand," he said. "I thought things were great between us and the sex was better than ever."

"For you," she said, "but there's still your problem. And the solution just isn't working. For me, it's a big turn-off when I have to get up and clean up in the bathroom before returning to you. You don't care because you already had a great time. I don't want to do that anymore."

"I don't understand," he said.

"I'll say it in plain words," she said. "When you can't finish me with your penis, you're going to have to eat me out."

"But I do," he said.

"I mean right away," she said.

She saw his face turn green and his mouth drop. There were a few seconds of silence, and then he said, "I'm sorry, Stella. I don't think I can do that."

"I figured you'd say that," she said. "But your proposal made me think that we're really still like a married couple in many ways, especially in bed. And in marriage, there's give and take and each person doing things for the other, sometimes things they don't like.

"I would like a closer relationship with you, Mort, but your problem is preventing it, and I've decided that I'm tired of being frustrated, and if you can't do this for me, it's time for us to move on. But you know I'll always love you, and you can count on me for anything you need, just like always, only no more sex."

She looked at him as she was talking. His face went from green to white. He seemed to be stunned. When she was finished, he didn't say anything but just stared at her.

She waited for a few minutes and then said, "Say something, Mort."

"I don't know what to say," he said.

"That means there's only one thing you can say," she said. "Goodbye." She got up and stood next to the table. He didn't move until she said, "I'm waiting." Then he slowly got up.

She embraced him and gave him a big kiss on the lips and said, "It's OK, Mort. Don't worry. I'll always be there for you." Then she pulled him to the front door and through it. He stood like a statue on the doorstep while she shut the door. She hid at the side of the front window and watched him. He stood immobile for almost 10 minutes before turning around and slowly walking to his car.

Two days later, he called her at her office. He didn't sound good. "I've got to see you, Stella," he said. "There must be some way we can work this out."

"I'm sorry, Mort," she said, "but I've already thought a lot about that. There's only one way. Goodbye." She smiled to herself and wondered how long it would take before he called again.

He held out for a week before he called her at home. After exchanging greetings, he asked her, "Is there anything --"

She interrupted him. "No, Mort," she said. "There is nothing you can do and nothing you can say. You need to realize it's over, and you have to move on."

"What if I said yes?" he said.

"What does that mean?" she said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. She waited while the phone was silent.

"Yes, I agree, if --," he said.

"Sorry, Mort, no conditions," she said. "I'm willing to listen to whatever you have to suggest, but I don't want there to be any misunderstanding about this. I explained to you what you need to do, and that's not going to change."

Silence again.

"OK," he said. His voice was barely above a whisper. "When can I see you?"

"It's too late tonight," she said, although it really wasn't. "How about tomorrow?"

After she hung up, she felt bad because she had been cruel to him. She knew that putting off his first taste of cream pie until tomorrow would make him have nightmares tonight, but the thought of how that would make it even harder for him just made her more excited. She felt so wet between her legs that she wanted him like crazy right now, but she didn't call him back.

The next night, she saw tremendous fright in Mort's eyes, and it excited her so much that she came in five minutes. She could almost taste his relief when he felt her orgasm. After her orgasm, he told her he wasn't feeling well and didn't want to go on. He left in a hurry. She thought about what happened and decided that a repeat of that night would be like torturing him and she needed to take control next time.

When they were in bed a few days later, he was still scared, but she focused on using all the techniques she knew would work on him, and he soon came. She didn't say anything as she felt him softening inside her and just waited.

Finally, he got off of her. He was trembling, and she heard the sound she was expecting, so she reached under the bed and pulled out the bucket she had put there and guided his head down. She held his head as he spewed into it for a few minutes and then told him to go wash up in the bathroom.

When he came back, she had turned the lights down and was lying back against the pillows with her legs spread wide. She waited again, and after he stood by the bed a few minutes, he got between her legs. It was ugly. She spoke softly to him through it all, encouraging him when he had to lift his head to keep from gagging and passing out. He made a mess of the bed. He was sweating gallons and his eyes were wild.

But all this didn't keep her from getting excited as she felt his tongue caressing her vagina. She imagined his thick white sperm coming out of her and onto his tongue and then going into his mouth and down his throat. It didn't take her long to come, and as soon as he felt her body shaking, he lifted his head, jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. She could hear him through the closed door even though he ran the faucet.

It wasn't much better the next few times, but gradually, Mort began to adjust. He still occasionally gagged, although he kept from throwing up. She noticed that because his revulsion excited her, she had more satisfying orgasms in this new way than when he made her come with his penis, so she began to use her techniques to bring him off before her almost every time.

She kept to the same position as the first night for a while until she felt he was used to it, and then she begin trying others. She got on top of him in a 69 position and lowered her vagina on top of his mouth. That really freaked him out the first time she did it, and he pushed her almost violently off of him before jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom. But she was patient and calmed him down and after a few more false starts, she finally got him to do it.

Her favorite position was when she was riding him and he came inside her and she just crawled forward onto his mouth. This way she could look straight down and see the come oozing from her vagina onto his tongue and watch the fear and shame in his eyes. It excited her so much that she wished she could clone herself so she could watch him in the other positions, where she could only feel his tongue and not see it.

She related all of the drama and the excitement to her girlfriends when they got together, and she could see they were as stimulated listening to her stories as she was when she was telling them. Three of them were so enraptured that they insisted on taking her to lunch every Saturday to hear what had happened during the week. She told them about how she was also using her methods on Ollie, but Mort was the one they really wanted to hear about. They pressed her for every detail, how it felt, how it looked, how it sounded.

At one Saturday lunch, they were talking about what a shame it was that Stella couldn't see what Mort was doing when he was lying between her legs or when she was on top of him in the 69 position. One of them suggested she make a video of those positions. Then they began fantasizing how that could be done.

The following week all of them came with plans they had thought of to make a video, and they had a great time discussing them. The one they settled on involved the three girlfriends taking a class in videography and then splitting costs on renting cameras and equipment so they could shoot the video themselves. They each wanted a copy, but Stella told them that wasn't possible. If she could get Mort to agree to the filming, they would be present to watch the action as they were filming, and she would invite them over one night to see what they had filmed, but she wouldn't let the videos out of her hands. She finally agreed that she might show it to them more than just once, but she wouldn't promise. That was good enough for them.

From then on the lunches were split between her sexual exploits with Mort and Ollie and what they were learning about composition, lighting, camera angles and other things and how they would use their newfound expertise on the big day.

Mort knew about Stella's weekly lunches, and he wasn't happy about her sharing their intimate life with others. He said he had never talked to any of his male friends about their sex life, even before she began degrading him.

She told him women were different from men that way, and for him not to be concerned about it. It was just a part of her life, not as important as being with him, but still necessary. When the idea of the video first came up, she told him about it right away, and he told her he would kill himself before he would go along with the idea. She told him not to be so dramatic and that she couldn't see the harm in her friends taking the video classes and getting together with her to fantasize about filming them.

"If you refuse, there's nothing I can do about it," she said, "but I promised them I would do my part to get you to agree, so I'm going to work hard on learning some new things to do with you until I find one you like so much that you would do anything for me."

It didn't take her long to find what that was. As she tried out different techniques, she saw some indications, and finally she asked him straight out, "Do you really want to have anal sex with me?" she said one night.

"Well, you told me when we were married that you would never do that," he said, "so I know it would be a waste of time to bring it up."

"Why would you want to do that to me?" she said. "You know how big you are, and how sometimes you bruise my vagina. It would be horribly painful for me if you put that into my anus. How could that excite you?"

"You get excited by doing things to me that I hate," he said.

"That's different," she said. "I'm sure I'd feel just as degraded and disgusted by anal as you do by eating creampie, but I'm not physically hurting you."

"Let's forget the whole thing," he said.

But she didn't forget it. She kept looking for something else that he really wanted, but while she discovered a lot of things that excited him, she felt that none of them worked him up enough to make him change his mind. So she also started researching anal sex and watching educational videos on how to do it with the least amount of pain. The first time she stuck a small vibrator into her anus, she had to run to the bathroom, but she managed to keep from regurgitating. I handled it better than he did, she thought, but then she asked herself whether this was really worth doing for the video.