Crimi, For My Friends

"Have you ever done it before?" I asked.

"What? A fight against men with daggers?"

"The sex, you stupid."

"No... why?" he said after a while. I snorted, without smiling.

"Do you want to try?"

It was quite easy, indeed. I knew what I liked to feel, and I knew what to do to other women, in order to make them feel that way. So I told him to do that to me. Simple and effective. And he proved to be a good pupil, as in bed as it was in the "dojo". Such a nice and clever guy, still virgin... He was gentle, his hands were strong, but not rough. His mouth kissed without sticking to my skin, without drooling saliva. He preferred to lick my nipples instead of sucking it, and I preferred it too... He licked and sucked my clitoris as well as very few women had done, and then penetrated my cunt with hist tongue, giving me my first male-induced orgasm. My first "normal" orgasm. Quite more than "normal", indeed... I felt weak, giddy, defenseless, my goo flowing out of me so much I had almost the doubt I was peeing... But he was keeping kissing me there, so I surely was not...

"Take me... Take me, please..." I asked him. Better: i "begged" him...

He took me, up to the bottom. My hymen opposed the more theoretic of the resistances. And I felt to be the happiest former-virgin and former-"L"-girl in the world...

When I reported the fact to my father, he just unstopped two big cans of beer, filled two half-paint mugs, raised his one, waited for me to raise mine and said:

"Welcome to the gray, ordinary, boring club of the "normality"."

I snorted and drank my beer. It was very good...

So that guy became my man, and he is that yet. He did not change a bit, besides becoming more akin to my father. And this is a compliment, of course.

Some months after we got married, we went to the marriage of my Russian girlfriend, at the Orthodox church. I knew she had a man, and what a man. But it was too late to think about him. He was ecstatic looking at his wife. And I had my man close to me. And no intention to cheat him, at all.

My girlfriend was wonderful. All in white, with a simple wedding dress inspired to the Russian tradition, a small golden crown on her head and a thin candle in her hand, as the Russian rite demands. His man too had a crown and a candle, and every now and them looked at her and blushed. Poor boy, I knew what he was thinking. He was looking in his cleavage, left naked by the white dress, just shielded by a veil of tulle... Just some hours yet, and she would have been his, all for him, body and soul. Body, especially...

I smiled. I knew that guy had respected my girlfriend and her wish to arrive virgin to the bride. Because he loved her, and because she was she. But now it was the final countdown. Of course he was thinking, fancying about her, naked in a bed, on her skin to kiss, on her body to... And maybe he felt a bit ashamed. To think about such things, in a church... It doesn't!

"May you be exalted as Abraham, new groom," said the priest. "And may you be... as Isaac, and procreate as Jacob..."

Uh! Message loud and strong: go for it! Catholic Church is less straight to the point... That priest should be the "bàtyushka" who had taught my girlfriend about that interesting idea of "pleasure". He too was a nice man, and my girlfriend was smiling to him too, with respect. Her smile! Her body! Her eyes! Yes, I knew, she was out of discussion, even more now, since she was a married woman. But there was an old girlfriend of her, who came from another town, for the ceremony.

And she too was beautiful... It must be true, what they say about the Russian girls...

Well, I thought... let's say it, I will never cheat my husband WITH A MAN...