Learning to Love Another Ch. 04

"I mean it. That okay with you?"

"You know it, but I want to put a condom on first," he said.

"I want the first time to be without. Can we do that?"

"I know you're on the pill, but just in case, is this a safe time of your cycle?"

"It should be."

"Okay then -- if you're really sure. Whenever you are ready slide forward, and I'll position myself so you can sit back on me. That way you can control how much and how fast."

"Good thinking," I said as I leaned forward, bumping my clit across the head of his cock and settling my tits on his face. "I had no idea how to start."

"Okay, ease back," Ethan said a moment later from deep in my cleavage.

I did and felt the tip of his cock nestle between my lips and find my wet opening. It took a little shifting, but it didn't take long to line him up right, and I started to push back onto him.

Knowing me as you do, you would have thought that I would have practiced for the eventuality (or at least potentiality) of this moment with my G-man vibe or the purchase of something closer to Ethan's size; but I had done neither. We had been so occupied with fucking each other's faces, that I had had nothing larger than Ethan's tongue or middle finger inside my pussy for weeks.

The feeling of the head of his huge cock pushing past the threshold of my opening was best described as alarming in a very, very sensual sort of way. It wasn't difficult or painful in a physical sense -- I was too aroused and lubricated from two previous orgasms and from grinding on his shaft -- but from the mental point of view it really felt like I was being split in half. The more of him I pushed into myself, the thicker he got; and I seemed to push back for a long time, but there just seemed to be an unending amount of hard flesh to take in. Finally, I bottomed out, nudging my cervix against the tip of his impaling presence.

If this were in fact basic "porn story bullshit" at this point I would be breathless, tits heaving, and orgasming non-stop just from the awesome size of his manliness, swearing off women altogether for the chance to worship his mighty cock for the rest of my life.

Instead I said, "I feel like I'm going to be sick."

"Oh no," Ethan said, "What's wrong, baby?"

"It's just a lot of pressure in my abdomen," I replied, actually a little short of breath. "I feel like I have to go to the bathroom."

"It's all right if you need to come off me. You don't need to hold out in an uncomfortable place just for me."

"No offense, baby, but I hadn't even considered how you were feeling at this point," I replied, pushing up on my knees. "I think I do need to slide you back out. Something isn't right."

I continued rising up and forward until his cock slipped fully out of my pussy and slapped down on his belly. My clit buzzed and my pussy felt achingly empty, but the pressure felt like it had just moved a bit. It wasn't so sick-inducing, but it was still there to a certain extent. Then one of nature's great ice-breakers happened and a bunch of air expelled itself from my pussy with all the charming sound effects that you would expect. That kind of thing happens with us girls from time to time (Angel and I had both had it happen with our toys), but it was very embarrassing for it to happen right then with Ethan. I felt myself blush hot and covered my face with my hands.

"Oh shit. I'm sorry."

That's just not the kind of thing you see in porn films or read in your standard erotica, but it happened, and now to my everlasting embarrassment, I have shared it with you in the spirit of accurate narrative flow. It isn't pretty, but it's authentic, and I do apologize if the telling offended anyone.

Ethan just laughed the tension out of the room, "No worries. That happened all the time with Michelle. It's no big deal."

He caught himself almost instantly, "Damn! I shouldn't have said that. Here we are having a really important moment, and I bring up an ex. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's okay," I said and giggled a little myself. "I'm just relieved that it didn't make you bolt from bed. I do think I want to run to the bathroom really quick though."

I did and was soon slip-sliding my pussy along the bottom side of his shaft again, getting myself heated (and lubricated) back up and Ethan as hard as he could get. I slid forward, he levered up, and then I sank back onto his cock again for another go. This time I got to where he had bumped my cervix before and just stopped for a minute to get used to him being inside. It didn't hurt (other than a bit of a stimulating burn from being stretched), and the feeling of fullness was really good.

Ethan flexed his PC muscle (he told me later, i.e. he did a Kegel), and his cock swelled inside me. I actually moaned involuntarily.

"How far did I get?" I asked and reached back to try to feel how much of him was left.

"All but a couple of inches," he said and flexed again, ballooning his cock inside me.

"This -- is -- intense," I panted out. "I think it feels really good, but I'm a bit overwhelmed at the moment to be able to say for sure."

"Rock on it when you're ready," Ethan said. "I'll hold still."

I rocked my hips forward, withdrawing a couple of inches of him and shifting some pressure onto my clit. Then, rocking my hips back, I sank him back in. It worked, and it felt really damn good. I did it again, a little farther this time, and it was even better. He was so deep in me that I wasn't really in danger of pulling all the way off by accident, so I slowly increased the distance of my rocking.

Pardon my tech-speak but -- Holy Fuck! It felt good! I really did feel like I was being split open when I would push back on him, but it didn't hurt. It was just incredibly intense.

I started gaining confidence and my rocking picked up speed. I leaned further forward, lowering a nipple onto Ethan's waiting tongue, and really started swinging my hips up and down. Long inches of him slid in and out of my slippery pussy, and the wet sounds of our coupling almost drowned out the heavy breathing of our efforts.

Ethan put his hands on my hips and gently began matching my swinging with thrusting. Almost immediately my legs started shaking and I came twice -- bang! BANG! It totally blew my rhythm and made my legs go straight out behind me. My clit pressed down on his pubis, and my weight kept the pressure on it as he continued to thrust up into me; all the while I was cumming hard. About the time my second orgasm spent itself, Ethan slid as deep as he could, and I felt his cock inflate with the rhythmic pulsing of his orgasm.

I could feel the warmth of his semen way up inside me, and I kind of fell apart -- in a good way. The real-ness of it hit me all at once as Ethan smiled dreamily up at me and I could feel the fullness of his post orgasmic cock softening inside my body: I had just had heterosexual intercourse for the first time, and a man had cum inside me.

I didn't cry or anything, but for a moment I felt incredibly vulnerable. It was almost identical to my first time with Angel. Ethan had just done something to me that I couldn't take back even if I wanted to. I had given him something that I could only ever give a man once, and right there in the immediacy of the aftermath of that sacrifice I had no doubts at all that he was worth it. That was pretty fucking amazing.

We hugged each other so hard.

*****

To this day, I have no regrets that Ethan was my first man. He is still one of the finest gentlemen I have ever met, and in our time together he was never anything but that. So how did the story continue and eventually end? Like most things, it was good and bad.

The relationship and sex were good... okay, great. We did try to get him "balls deep" soon after that, but even with his experience and past successes, we could never get the angle right to allow him to slip past my cervix and go all the way in. We could get about eight inches in but more than that hurt no matter what we tried. No big deal, it's just the way I'm shaped on the inside.

I also found that sometimes I just couldn't take it, or perhaps more accurately, didn't really want it. Even after I got used to him, and we were able to go at it full speed, sometimes it was just too much. It's exactly like overeating your favorite food. You love the taste but being too full is something that is uncomfortable no matter how many times you do it.

On the flip side, I got really good at giving Ethan head. The more I did it, the more I enjoyed it. He also claimed that I was better at it than Veronica and much better at it than Michelle. I know it's not a contest, but that did make me feel proud.

I also got really, really good at tit-fucking him. It was a fun naked weekend at Angel's house with PB and Angel (just as naked) coaching me to get some techniques nailed down. I'm sure you're thinking, "How hard could it be? Squeeze the penis between the tits; thrust; repeat." Well I'll answer that the way my partner Tess describes Southern cooking that I claim I don't like: "Sugar, that means that you just haven't had it done right yet."

Like anything else, there is as much to tit-fucking as you want to put into it. The way Angel puts it in not so many words is, "Use what you've got and be the best at it. You'll be irresistible." She was right. I could make Ethan cum all over me in next to no time.

For his part, Ethan knew just how to please me. He remained an enthusiastic cunnilinguist and an understanding and gentle cocksman. He never hurt me - even by accident, and he always took the time to fully make love to me. We kissed, hugged, massaged, cuddled, stroked, etc., etc. It was never just about fucking, and that difference was just what I needed at that point in my life.

Also, with all our options for pleasing one another (hands, cock, tongues, tits, pussy, and toys), we never got bored. Even when I wasn't in the right place to take on having him inside me, there was always something else we could do to keep it from being a letdown.

All this sounds ideal, right? So, what kept it from working out long term? Unfortunately, it was me.

We were great friends and excellent lovers, but it still wasn't the relationship that I really wanted. I loved Ethan (and still do), but I wasn't in love with him -- at least not in the way I was ever in love with Angel -- and that translated into not giving all of myself to him.

To our credit, we talked about this openly like we did about pretty much everything. I assured him that there was nothing wrong with him and that there was nothing he was doing wrong. It wasn't that he was a man either. We stayed together as a couple for about a year and a half, before I decided that it just wasn't ethical for me to keep him hanging on like that. So, we decided to end it and just be good friends, and not even what they call "friends with benefits" these days, i.e. we stopped having sex when we stopped considering ourselves a couple. All of it hurt, but it was the right thing to do, and we arrived at the decision together.

Angel once said, "You can't fuck someone and then go back to just holding hands." Being neighbors after being lovers was just too damned awkward, so shortly after the breakup I requested a transfer at my job and moved to my company's headquarters in another state. It was even further from Angel, but it helped to preserve the friendship that Ethan and I really did want to salvage.

He did just fine, too. Shortly before Angel got married, Ethan married a sweet lady named Carol who had two young kids from a previous marriage. He got to be a husband and a father all at once and took to both wonderfully. Angel and I went to the wedding (Tess did not, but only because she had a timing conflict with a family obligation) and both agreed that they were a good fit. Ethan and I still occasionally send cards and letters to each other, and he did say once that he and Carol are a very good fit in other ways too. He also approves of Tess, and I think that it really helped him that she was another woman rather than a 'replacement' man.

With the benefit of some time, critical distance, and Tess, I was able to eventually realize that what I had with Ethan was not really satisfying my particular needs for intimacy and support. I was so wrapped up in the differences of having a hetero relationship, the genuineness of our friendship, and the awesomeness of all the sex that I was too close to see the problem at the time. It was a real moment of clarity when I finally put it all together. To repeat, there wasn't anything wrong with Ethan... except that he wasn't Tess. That's something that no amount of time would have fixed.

*****

Now, so I don't close this chapter soapboxing about life lessons again, let me share two really good things with you. First is that Angel did eventually get to see Ethan's enormous cock. It was under bizarre circumstances that I'll give you the abridged version of here.

Ethan took a spill on his Bonneville during our time together when a car cut him off in traffic on a wet road. The fall earned him compound fractures in his right leg because he landed against a curb when the bike dumped him. The bones had to be pinned, and he had to be on some pretty heavy pain medicine while things healed. He ended up recovering completely apart from some scarring from the surgery, and he got the bike fixed too.

I took a couple of days off work to take care of him when he first got out of the hospital, and Angel took a couple of days off work to come help so we could alternate. The pain meds kept Ethan pretty doped up, and he needed a lot of help just getting to the bathroom and stuff. He pretty much stayed in loose shorts and a t-shirt or even less for a week, and one morning Angel was the one helping him get back to bed after he came out of the bathroom in nothing but a morphine daze. If his well-above-average flaccid cock swinging around wasn't enough, Ethan got an accidental face-full of Angel's incredible cleavage when she leaned over to help him back onto the bed, and his cock inflated to full majesty right in front of her.

Apparently in his pharmaceutically uninhibited state Ethan just murmured "wow, some fuckin' big beautiful tittuses" at her cleavage and hardening nipples and then "Oops, hey! My cock's up hard. It's fuckin' big too, see?" when he noticed his erection. Angel told me she just patted him on the head and said, "It's all right baby. My tits have that effect on a lot of people, and yes - your cock is lovely." Ethan had no memory of any of it later, but I don't think Angel will ever forget!

The second really good thing is that my time with Ethan inspired me to learn to ride a motorcycle on my own. There is more about that in the following chapter.

*****

And finally, a short commentary on size and stereotypes. This is as good a time as any.

My breasts are huge, and I get a lot of attention because of them. Angel and Tess have the same issue, and we are all just used to it. That doesn't make objectification a good or a just thing, but it is a fact and to expect people not to notice my breasts is ridiculous. I only get offended if someone is deliberately rude.

The flip side of that coin is that I really love my huge breasts, and my partner does as well. I feel like they are integral to my sexuality, and that I should not be made to feel deprecated for having them. It's how I'm made, and I have spent a lot of time learning to love myself for who I am.

However, I do not feel that large breasts are required for a woman to be beautiful, sexual, sensuous, or feminine. I have known women who are all of those things and have very small breasts. Likewise, I have known women who are none of those things and have been enormously endowed. Tits do not make the woman, but the reverse may certainly be true.

All of what I just wrote is equally true for men and penis size. I have dated men who were average sized and enjoyed them. I had that wonderful relationship with Ethan and loved his penis -- not because it was huge, but because it was his. Part of the appeal was that it was huge, but he would have been just as desirable without it, and someone else with it might not have been desirable at all. The cock does not make the man, but the reverse may certainly be true.

Love how you're made and find someone who loves how you're made too.