Lip Service

"No, Ross, I don't. I'm tired of being fumbled over. I'm tired of being used like a sex toy by someone who doesn't know what they're doing, or worse, doesn't care. I want to handled by a real man."

"Kim, I think you should know something," he said quietly.

"I know. I heard. You're impotent. I don't care. I want what you offered Marilyn. I want to feel like I'm special, special enough to be kissed down there." At this point, I began to break down. Tears filled my eyes and my voice broke. "Ross, I'm a young woman. I'm healthy. I'm normal. And I've never had an orgasm. I don't even know that one feels like. Can you please help me?"

He took my hands in his warm dry ones, looked at me with his soft, slightly sad eyes, and said, "Of course."

He came to my apartment. Yes, I know it's risky to let a strange man into your home, but Ross didn't seem strange. If anything, he seemed like an older uncle. He did not seem like my dad. That would be too weird. Besides, my dad is a former military man. He could be, and often was, rather distant and severe. Ross was not like that at all.

We had arranged to meet at four in the afternoon on a Thursday, and Ross arrived right on time. He was wearing pressed (yes, pressed) blue jeans, a crisp white shirt, and expensive Nikes. I had agonized over what to wear. I finally settled on, of all things, a shortie night gown, pale blue, with matching panties. Of course, I wore a robe over it, at least until I knew it was safe. I had bathed and shaved and even painted my toenails. I wanted to make a good impression.

I had waxed my pubic hair down to almost nothing. (That had not been pleasant.)

As a precaution, I placed my personal handgun, a Glock 19, and my pepper spray on a table in easy reach should I need them. I didn't think I would, but it pays to be prepared.

When Ross knocked on my door, right on time, I considered not answering. If I didn't answer, he would go away. But then I thought, why not answer? If everything worked out like it was supposed to, I would be getting safe, no-strings attached sexual pleasure. No worrying about call backs. No slut walk. Just pleasure from a discreet man.

I looked through the peephole and there he was, standing patiently in his pressed jeans and white shirt. I opened the door.

"Hello," he said warmly, smiling.

"Hi! You're right on time," I said, stupidly.

"It's a habit of mine. May I come in?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Come in please."

I opened the door and he walked in. "Nice place," he said. "Nicely furnished."

"I call it 'poor college girl'," I said.

"No really. You've done a good job in here."

He looked around appreciatively. I smiled with a little pride. My apartment is my haven. I had worked hard, saved my money, and done my best with my limited budget. It was nice of him to notice.

"Please sit down," I said. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Only if you're having something," he replied.

"How about some wine?"

"That would be nice," he said.

I went to the refrigerator and got out a chilled bottle of white wine. I brought the bottle and two glasses to the living room where Ross was sitting on the couch. He did not insist on opening the wine, but I liked that he offered. (A girl can't be too careful.) I poured for both of us and we sipped. Ross made small talk, commenting on my furniture, my prints. He asked about school. He made jokes. I was thinking, "If he were thirty years younger..."

We both drank two glasses of wine. My head was spinning a little. At about that time, Ross looked at me and said, "Well Kim, would you like to get started?"

For a moment I didn't realize what he meant. I'd been having such a good time just talking I had forgotten what he was there for. When I remembered I blushed furiously. "I guess so," I said.

"Well, where would you like to go?" he asked.

"Let's go to my bedroom," I said.

I stood up, took his hand, and let him into my bedroom. "You can take off your shirt if you'd like," I said. Ross smiled and begun unbuttoning his shirt. He also took off his shoes. I turned my back to him and said, "Here goes," and let my robe fall to the floor. "I'm sorry," I said when I turned to face him in my nightgown, "I don't have a very nice body."

"My dear," he said, "you couldn't be more wrong."

"You're not lying to me, are you?" I asked, blushing.

"Sweetheart, I think you have a perfectly lovely figure. As a matter of fact, you remind me of my wife as a young woman. She had lovely breasts just like you, and the nicest curves. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Kim."

"Do you really mean it?" I asked.

"Sweetie, I couldn't mean it more. Now lay down on the bed and let me get a look at your sweet spot."

I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. The bed shifted as Ross got on. I felt his warm dry hands on my thighs, stroking upward. They felt so good. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and began pulling down my panties. "Lift up," he said quietly. I lifted my fanny off the bed. My panties slid down over my butt and hips. My eyes were still closed as the waist band of my panties passed over my Mons veneris. I imagined what I looked like to Ross: my nicely trimmed pubic mound revealed to his eyes. He would be rapt with desire.

I opened my eyes and there was Ross, leaning over me, pulling my blue panties down over my knees. His eyes were fixed on my pubic area. He looked like he was beholding a wondrous sight. He finished pulling my panties off and tossed them on the floor. Never taking his eyes off me, he murmured, "So pretty. You are so pretty, Kim."

He put his hand on the inside of my knees and pushed gently. This was hard for me. I was unsure of how my pussy would compare to the others he'd surely seen. Would it be attractive? Would he be repulsed by it? I had not looked at myself in a mirror very much. I really had no idea. This was all entirely new to me.

At first I resisted. He said, "Relax, Kim. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"It's just that I don't know what I'm supposed to look like down there. What if I'm ugly? What if you don't find me attractive?"

"I assure you, darling, that's not the case," he said quietly. "I think your vagina is quite lovely. I can't wait to begin tasting you."

His eyes were so gentle, his tone so reassuring, his hands so warm and strong, I gave in. My thighs relaxed, my legs came open, and there I was, completely exposed to Ross' gaze.

He looked at me. I mean, he really saw me. Ross looked at my pussy and saw my need. He saw my need to feel pleasure, to feel admired and treasured, to feel loved, if only for an afternoon. He leaned in and I felt warm soft kisses on the inside of my thighs. Ross was clean shaven, so his cheeks were very smooth. All I could feel were his warm lips on my skin and his smooth cheeks.

He gradually worked his way upward, getting closer and closer to my "sweet spot" as he called it. And then, oh, I felt his lips on my lips. The lips of my pussy. He kissed up and down the slit, inhaling deeply, savoring me. He pushed his nose into my folds, followed by his wonderful warm tongue. Ross was inside my labia now, fluttering up and down. He used the tip of his tongue to probe me, and then laid me open with the flat of his tongue to lave me.

God, it felt good.

I mewed like a kitten. Ross pushed my legs apart even more, opening me up fully, exposing more of my delicate inner flesh to his inquisitive, demanding tongue. He used his lips, then his tongue on me, sweeping back and forth, up and down. He tongued me from top to bottom, swerving like a car on a mountain road, then circled my clitoris. He sucked me all over my vulva, taking each one of my labia in turn. He opened wide and covered me with his whole mouth, then stuck his tongue in as far as it could go. His probing felt so good. He was so strong. It was like he was demanding everything of me, yet giving it all back too.

My pleasure increased steadily. He began flicking my clit rapidly up and down, causing my sensation to ratchet upward, then he stopped and paid attention to my labia again. He sucked and kissed and used his nose like a smooth blunt plow to nudge my clit.

And then, oh heavens, then he slowly pushed one, then two fingers into me. The sensation of being filled was wonderful. He continued licking and sucking, and turned his hand upward. I felt one of his fingers move upward in a "come hither" motion. There was a burst of pleasure. I realized that he'd found my fabled "g-spot." And then I realized something else: both Ross and I were moaning. I knew why I was moaning. It was from sheer sensual delight. But Ross was moaning as well, murmuring endearments like, "You taste to good," and "Such a sweet pussy." He clearly loved what he was doing.

He began moving his fingers in and out of my by now well-lubricated vagina. He probed and thrust, and once again tickled my g-spot firmly. At the same time, he began concentrating on my clitoris. I realized that he was going for my orgasm, and boy was I ready. Although I had felt pleasure from my genitals before, I had never been this far. Suffice to say I was like putty in his hands, and tongue, and lips. At some point he began flicking my clitoris up and down. Not fast, just lightly and deliberately. He continued his gentle yet firm fingering while gradually increasing the pressure.

By this time I was transported, merely along for the ride. I was being carried along on a wave of sheer sexual sensation. I had to control. I heard a voice moaning, keening in the distance. It was a second or two before I realized it was mine.

And then it began happening. My pleasure peaked and my body drew into a delicious knot of pain and pleasure. If he had stopped now, I would surely have gone crazy and attacked him. But Ross was a master. He skillfully drew out the moment, stretching the knot tighter before releasing his final onslaught on my beleaguered little cunt.

He covered my pussy with his mouth and used his strong, warm, slick tongue on my tortured little clitty, flicking up and down, up and down.

And the knot broke, and I came, really came for the first time in my life. I was shaken over and over again by waves of pleasure that hit me like hammer blows. I was crying out, and crying at the same time. I sobbed with pleasure as the waves came, over and over, making me feel as if there was no time or space, only feeling. His tongue worked me firmly, then slower, and lighter, and still a little slower. The pleasure was almost too intense. It bordered on pain. But Ross never let it go that far. He gradually took me down, lightly licking then kissing, then nuzzling, then nothing.

I heard and felt him down there. He was panting a little. He rested his forehead on my inner thigh. I could feel his body move as he breathed.

Gradually my senses returned. The intense thrill of my climax had subsided into a warm, pleasurable throb that I could feel in my toes. I knew that I would feel it for hours.

My mouth was dry. I licked my lips and realized I was thirsty. I felt the bed shift and looked up to see Ross standing at the foot. He was smiling. I quickly closed my legs.

"Well my dear, how was it?" he asked, picking up his shirt and putting it on.

"I don't know what to say," I replied.

Ross sat down on the bed beside me. He took my hand and kissed it. He looked at me and said, "I want you to know that this was very special to me. It was a privilege to give you so much pleasure."

"Thank you," I said. "I've never felt anything like that before. It's never happened to me."

"I'm so glad I could be of service," he said.

"Would you come back?" I asked hurriedly. I definitely wanted some more of what Ross had to offer.

"If you'd like," he said.

"I would love it," I said.

"Kim, you should know that I'm not in the market for a relationship right now..."

"It's okay," I said. "We'll do it anyway you want. I mean, I won't place any demands on you, I promise. I just think that if I can feel like this a few more times, I'll know a little more about myself. I mean, when, or if, I get a lover or boyfriend or husband, maybe I'll know a little then and can help him to please me. You have given me a wonderful gift that I want to explore. Am I making sense?"

"I think you're making a lot of sense, Kim. And may I say that I thoroughly enjoyed kissing you down there. You have sweet healthy little pussy, and I would love to get close to it again.'

"Good," I said. "Then how about next week at the same time. Is that all right?"

"I believe so. Okay then, Thursdays will be 'Kim days'. I will see you then."

He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead, then got up. He finished buttoning his shirt, then went into the bathroom. I heard the water running. By the time he came out, I had my panties and robe on. I walked him to the door, gave him a hug, and closed the door behind him.

Now Thursdays are my days with Ross. We've been seeing each other for over a month. It's always the same: He arrives at four, performs delicious oral sex on me, and leaves. Of course, we've tried a few variations. Sometimes, I'm on my hands and knees when Ross kisses me. It was then that Ross introduced me to something called analingus. He actually (blush!) licks my butthole! And I love it! Ross has taught me so much about my own pleasure. Now I know what I like and, more importantly, how to ask for it. Ross taught me that. He has taught me so much.

The other thing Ross taught me was about giving. Ross cannot have sex, but he is willing to pleasure me, to teach me, for the satisfaction he gets from just giving of himself. He has taught me that willingness to give is an important part of any relationship. I know that now, and while I'm ready to give myself to the right person, I'm also going to be looking for someone who is willing to give to me as well. For that lesson, I thank Ross from the bottom of my heart.

Tressa, 44 years old, auburn hair, green eyes, lightly freckled cheeks, single mother of twin boys, aged three years, mature figure:

Ross and I have known each other for ten years. We became friends at work, where we both worked at the same hospital. Well, Ross is retired now. He was able to retire early, lucky guy. Anyway, I'm a nurse and Ross worked as a therapist. We knew each other for quite awhile before our friendship changed into something a little...different.

My husband is not a very mature person. He essentially impregnated me with my sons, whom I love dearly, then left. I was pretty upset at first, but then I got over it. He's not worth the energy it takes to hate him. Sometimes he comes by to visit, like when he brings the child support check, and wants a roll in the hay. But I shut him down long ago. I'm not going to bed with someone I don't respect.

Ross, on the other hand, I do respect. He was good at his job, always polite and respectful, and a great listener. We became good friends. He listened to me about my husband and laughed with me at the stories about my kids. He has been unfailingly faithful in his friendship with me. When Ross' wife died, I attended the funeral. I comforted him as best I could, but I could tell he was pretty broken up. Still, it was only about a week or so later that Ross was right back at work, helping patients. I guess helping people is what gets Ross out of bed in the morning. I am fortunate to be his friend.

Which gets me to our present "arrangement." One night after work, Ross and I and some friends went out to a restaurant to have dinner and drinks. Someone at work was leaving and it was a going away party. Anyway, Ross and I sat together at one end of the table. We talked quietly while the others partied. After a while, nearly everyone else had left. Ross and I moved to a booth and continued talking and drinking. I guess we both were a little tipsy, because before I knew it, I was talking about my husband. Eventually I got around to the more intimate details of our marriage. I found myself telling Ross how I'd been sexually unsatisfied for over a year. My husband had been a poor lover when we were together, but now there was nothing.

"It's not that I'm lonely," I said, slightly tipsy, "It's just that I would like to feel some real pleasure again."

Ross was listening quietly. He finally said, blushing a little, "Well Tressa, not to be indelicate, but can't you, you know, touch yourself and achieve gratification?"

I loved the way Ross used big words and indirect language to ask me if I couldn't masturbate my pussy until I had an orgasm. I looked at him and said, 'Of course I can, Ross. It's just that sometimes I want somebody else's hands on me. I want someone to pay attention to my needs once in a while."

Ross looked at me intently. From the look on his face, I could tell he was struggling with something. At length, he took a gulp of his drink and said, "Tressa, I'd like to tell you something that nobody else knows."

"Okay," I said.

"Well, you know Lillian died about two years ago. What you don't know is that because of some health issues, I'd been unable to ...um, perform for about six months prior to her death.

"Oh, okay," I said, wondering why he was telling me this.

"But that didn't mean that Lillian and I didn't have sex." He took another swallow.

"What are you getting at, Ross?"

"What I'm getting at, Tressa, is that while I couldn't get an erection, I could still please Lillian with my lips and tongue."

My mouth must have dropped open. "You mean, you went down on Lillian your wife because you couldn't have intercourse?"

He blushed again. "Yeah, that just about sums it up, Tressa. Now here's the thing," he said, taking the last of his drink in one large gulp. "I can do the same for you."

"The same for me?" I said incredulously.

"Yes, the same for you. I can't, you know, have intercourse with you, but I can kiss you on your private parts and give you some physical gratification. I would consider it a privilege. I mean, you work so hard, and you're doing all on your own with little support and sometimes you just look tired and I want to help you, help you to feel better."

I felt the urge to laugh, but then I saw he was serious. Ross, my friend of years, was offering to eat my pussy. "Ross, this is a little hard to understand. Why would you offer to do something like that, and what would you be getting out of it?"

He took a deep breath, looked down at the table, and then looked up again. "Tressa, I loved my wife very much. I was heartbroken when she died. You know we didn't have children. It was just the two of us right to the end. I always made it my mission to make Lillian happy. She never wanted for anything. We had a great life together, including the physical part. So when I lost the ability to get an erection, I was devastated. But Lillian took it in stride. She understood me, understood my need to please her. She helped me to understand that I could fulfill her with my lips and tongue. Oh, I wasn't that good at it at first, but she helped me, guided me, told me what felt best and how to do it. She was a very good teacher and I got very good at pleasing her. Then she died and I had no one to please. I'm telling you I would love to help you out, and I'd expect nothing in return, except your continuing friendship, of course."

By this time, it was late. I said, "Let's go outside and get some air." We paid for our drinks and walked outside. It was cool and breezy, with a hint of rain in the air.

Ross' offer had taken me aback, but the cool night air had sobered me a little. My first impulse had been to shut him down like my husband. But then I thought, "Why not?"

We were standing beside our cars in the parking lot. I looked at Ross and said, 'let me think about it. I'm not sure how to respond."

"Okay," he said. "I hope I can help you."