May's 18th Birthday

"Okay." She doesn't know, doesn't even care, what he means.

"Let's do breasts first. How do you feel about words like 'boobs,' 'tits,' and 'titties?'"

"I don't know. I like 'breasts.'"

"Then if you want, I can always call them breasts, but I feel like that's kind of a doctor's word."

"Okay."

"And words like 'boobs' seem kind of childish to me."

"Yeah."

"'Titties' is kind of for fun, like teasing."

"Okay."

"But during sex, when I'm really turned on, it seems like 'tits' is the right word."

"Okay."

"But that's just my opinion, and we can use different words if you want."

"No, I'm fine with that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Let's try, just to be sure," he says.

"Okay."

"May," he changes tone, whispering slowly into her ear with his deep voice, drawing the words out. "I love your tits."

He nibbles her earlobe for a moment, letting the word soak into her mind.

Then he goes on. "Your tits are fucking perfect."

He touches each part of them as he describes them, starting from her underboobs.

"I love how they come out from your ribs. I love how they curve down from your shoulders, and I absolutely love your pointy little nipples. I've wondered what your nipples look like for so long, and now I see them, and they're perfect. Pretty little areolas with cute little buttons. Perfect. Seeing your tits now, and touching them, May, turns me on so much. Your tits makes me ache to fuck you."

He pauses to let her reflect.

"What do you think?" he asks, back in his normal voice. "Was that better than 'breasts?'"

"Oh, yes," she shudders. She wants to say, "Fuck, yes," but she can't quite do it.

"Okay, then, next, let's do 'penis.'"

"Okay."

"To me, 'penis' is the doctor's word, 'dick' is a little naughty, but when the sex is hot the word has to be," he pauses for a moment to build tension before breathily dropping the monosyllable, "'cock.'"

Again he gives her a moment to reflect. "What do you think?"

"Let's try," she says. It's not really a suggestion. She wants to hear him say more naughty things.

"May," he growls to her delight, "seeing you naked tonight, with your long legs and tiny waist and perfect little tits — you," he pauses, "made my dick," he pauses again, "so hard."

He waits a long time.

"Rock fucking hard."

She hears his breaths shorten in excitement.

"I've wanted to fuck you forever, May, but now, now I need to fuck you."

She feels his breath on her cheek.

"I need," he whispers slowly and inhales to go on, "to put my cock," he pauses for another breath, "all the way inside you."

As he says this, he's been slowly moving one of his hands down over her stomach. From her belly button, he slides three fingers down, slowly, gently, but directly to her pussy. His middle finger stops at the hood of her clit, brushing it softly. The warmth is in her entire body now.

"Yes," she thinks. "Yes, yes, yes."

Excited, he continues a little more quickly: "and fuck you and fuck you and fuck you. I'm going to put it all the way inside you and cum deep, deep inside you."

His hand has covered her pussy now, claiming it for himself, and she's spread her legs to accommodate it.

"Do you like that?" he asks, but she can only nod. She cannot even breathe.

"Let me know if it's too much or if you want me to do something different."

She just shakes her head.

She seems to feel every emotion — desire, shame, joy, fear, gratitude, desperate need — all at the same time, all too intensely to understand — she can only surrender to him, trusting him....

He caresses her clit so softly, barely touching it with the pad of his thumb, rubbing it in a circle.

For such a strong man, it's unbelievable how gentle he is. Barely, barely touching her. Slowly the circle gets bigger, and then it includes her clit directly, and eventually he also begins to slide one of his fingers down over the lips of her pussy.

She feels him watching her face, feels him alert to any signs of pleasure or discomfort, and before she realizes what she's done, she's opened her legs for him, wanting more of his hand there.

He pauses, feeling her body shake a little.

"Now, how about 'pussy?'" he asks.

She nods.

She's opened her legs further for him, so he parts her labia with the pad of his middle finger, as he says, "May, I want to put my cock in your pussy. I want to put it all the way in."

The tip of his middle finger has begun to slide inside her.

He pauses, appreciating this moment. Her virginity is essentially gone now: she's spread her legs, arched her back, closed her eyes, welcomed his finger into her body. Feeling her tension, he senses that she's a very orgasmic woman, that she's going to love sex, and he is going to make it as sweet for her as possible.

Which, at the moment, apparently means as graphic as possible. She won't say anything naughty but apparently she likes to hear a little dirty talk.

He slides his finger inside her a little further, stroking her clitorus from inside as his thumb rubs it from the outside. His other hand gently teases one of her nipples.

"My cock," he whispers breathily, "is going to fill your pussy with cum. I cannot wait to fuck you."

He continues fingering her and telling her about his plans, but she can only hear the words "cock," "pussy," "fuck," and "cum," over and over, and his touch feels better and better, and her body fills with tension, and the water is so warm and the air smells so good and the music is so pretty and his fingers caress her nipple so gently and the tension builds more and she remembers how fucking hot this man is and that he is touching her like this with so much desire for her and she feels so beautiful and it's getting more intense and more intense and more wonderful and —

"Oh!" she suddenly exclaims, grabbing his wrist to push his hand away. As her body shakes, she feels the release, the serenity and warmth spreading through it.

After several desperate breaths, her body still shuddering, she tries to explain.

"I'm sorry," she pants. "It was just too much. I couldn't take any more!"

"It's fine," he assures her, placing his hand back on her stomach. "That's exactly what's supposed to happen."

"Oh, god," she sighs, relaxing into his embrace. "My god. That's even better than — " but she's already gone too far and has to continue — "when I do it myself."

Too late she realizes that she could've said something like "than I'd imagined," or "than I'd expected."

But he seems not to care.

"Good," he says. "I liked it too. We'll do that a lot then."

Although the intensity has receded a little, she's not ready for him to do more of that yet.

So she'll do him a bit and then he can do her again. That's her plan.

"Can I do it for you?" she asks, reaching an arm around her back.

"Of course!"

She grips the shaft of his cock, but then she freezes.

"Actually, I don't know what to do," she confesses.

"Actually, it doesn't matter," he laughs. "As long as you're gentle, you can't go wrong."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just rub it. Actually, you've got me so turned on, I'm already about to cum. Do you want to see it?"

"To see it?"

"I mean, do you want to see me cum? Or we can just do it in the water like this if you want."

"I think I want to see it."

"Okay, then," he pushes himself up to get out of the tub, and stands there dripping on the floor.

She stays in the tub, kneeling in the warm water, looking at his cock, not sure what to do. Feeling playful, she covers it with some of the bubbles and looks up at him.

He looks so happy, looking down at her. She feels so beautiful when he looks at her like that, so now she really wants to please him.

She reaches out, gently stroking him as she blows the bubbles away. She runs her fingers over his shaft, then over his balls, and then she grips his shaft, giving him a little squeeze.

"Oh god, May," he moans.

"Is this right?" she coos.

"Oh fuck it is."

She rubs her cheek against it, looking up at him.

"How about this?"

"May, I'm about to cum," he warns.

"Good. Cum." She fondles his balls, nuzzling the point of his dick into the dimple of her cheek.

Cum! What a deliciously naughty word!

She says it again, looking up at him with her sultriest smile. "Cum, Raoul. Cum. Cum for me."

She watched so much porn to prepare for this, and suddenly she understands what the women in the videos were doing, and begins pumping his shaft a little.

"Are you sure?" he asks. His voice is urgent. He's close.

"Of course. Why not?"

"Your face.... It's too close. It'll hit your face."

"Oh!" she moves back.

She stops pumping to eye his cock. She sees the point of the tip where it will come out. But what exactly is going to happen?

She looks up at him. "Would you like it to hit my face?"

"You don't have to do that."

"But you'd like it?" she teases, rubbing it with her cheek again.

He looks down at her, eyes wide, mouth open, and she can tell she's pleasing him.

Being naughty feels so good!

"Oh, god, May, I can't —" he tries to warn her, but he can't finish his sentence.

She sees his body tense, feels his cock pulse, so she looks at it.

"Cum," she tells it, holding his shaft in one hand and petting his testicles with the other, as if to massage it out of his balls. "Cum."

The first squirt leaps out, hits her in the forehead, right between her eyes.

"Oh!" she flinches. She holds his cock with one hand, feeling it pulse as she watches the squirts flow out onto her wrist.

She feels his cock begin to soften in her hand.

"Was that good?" she asks, looking up at him with one eye closed because his cum is flowing down her nose next to it. She can see that it was good by the way that he's looking down at him, but she wants to hear him say it.

"Oh my god, May." He sounds so weak suddenly, and she realizes — this is power. She can do this to him, he needs her to do it, she has real power over this man.

"Good. But I'll be better later. I promise." She wants him to want more. She'll have to figure out how to be better later.

"There's no 'better,'" he says. "That was great." He looks down at her. "Do you want a towel?"

"That would be wonderful!" she laughs. "Unless you think this is good for my skin!"

"Probably not. Probably not bad either, but you won't like the feeling if it dries."

As she wipes herself with a towel he's handed her, he gets back in the tub behind her.

"So what'd you think?" he asks, as she settles back into his embrace.

"I actually thought it would come out even harder."

They laugh as he wraps his arms around her. How strong his arms are!

"Thank you, May, that was wonderful."

"But I will be better next time."

"Really? How?"

"Please be honest with me, Raoul. How am I going to learn if you don't tell me the truth?"

"I promise, I'll give you more tips next time, but this time, you can be sure that I'm completely satisfied. In fact, the way you played with my balls, that was so nice. How did you know to do that?"

"I don't know. I just..."

"Well, that was perfect."

She turns to whisper to him.

"You can do it in my mouth next time if you want. Or anywhere you want."

"That sounds great," he kisses her temple, "but next time it's going in your pussy."

"Oh, good!" She leans back. "How long do we have to wait?"

"Probably about ten minutes," he laughs. "Do you want some champagne?"

"Oh, yes! Let's celebrate! You were nice to me, and I was nice to you!"

"You were very nice to me," he says.

He rinses the bubbles from his hands in the faucet (which is on the side of the tub, not at the end), and then opens the champagne.

Meanwhile, assuming he doesn't know what she's doing under the bubbles, May touches herself, marveling at how wonderful his touch is. Touching herself feels good; being touched by him feels a million times better.

"Here you go," he says, handing her a champagne flute. "To being nice!"

"To being very nice," she agrees.

After a sip, she exclaims, "Oh! What is this?"

"Armand de Mathez," he explains, showing her the bottle.

"It's good!"

"I like it myself. Would you like some chocolate?"

"My hands are all soapy."

"I can feed you," he says, opening the box.

A moment later, as he places a truffle in her lips, she extends her lips a little to taste his fingers too — but the chocolate tastes so good that she immediately forgets whatever she'd intended. Waves of flavor pour into her mouth: the bitterness of dark chocolate initially, and the saltiness of sweet caramel, but then a rich, cool cream.

It's by far the best chocolate she's ever tasted.

"What is this?" she gasps.

"Chocolat Brignac. These are caramel but there are other flavors. Lin discovered it in Strasbourg last fall. It's just a little company, not one of the famous ones yet, but they're great, aren't they?"

"Amazing."

She leans against him, delighted by the chocolate and champagne and soft music and candlelight and the silky water and the lingering warmth of her orgasm and the knowledge that she pleased him.

"You've thought of everything," she says. "Do you do this for all the women?"

He kisses her temple. "Lots of practice. But there are no other women. Not anymore."

She closes her eyes, soaking it all in, remembering the rose tattoo. "When you are ready," she sighs, at last able to tell him out loud, "I want you to take me. Just do whatever you want to do."

"I will."

He puts another truffle in her mouth. She chews it slowly, savoring all the tastes. She feels the warm silkiness of the water, inhales its gentle lavender scent. She listens to the sweet tones of the Spanish guitar, the pretty melodies and lovely warm chords, and she imagines the vineyards of Andalusia that Raoul has promised to take her to, flamenco dancing in candlelit gardens, him watching her twirl around in a bright red dress, and ...

She wakes up!

He's still behind her, holding her in the tub, but she'd actually fallen asleep!

"Good morning," he teases.

"Was I out long?"

"No," he chuckles. "Only a few minutes."

She relaxes again. "Everything just feels so good."

"I've been drinking the champagne, but there's still a little left if you want it."

"Yes."

He pours it for her.

"What did you do while I was asleep?"

"Just looked at you. You have such lovely breasts. I'm so happy to see them at last."

"Thank you. I'm so glad you like them."

"Especially your nipples."

"They're too big for my boobs."

"You have so many strange ideas," he laughs. "Your nipples are literally exactly perfect. In fact, I'm about ready again, and you told me to do whatever I want, so we can get out whenever you're ready."

"What are we going to do?"

"I'd like to go down on you, if you don't mind, and then we'll lube up and have sex," he says frankly. "Would you like to try missionary position first?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "What do you think is best? Do you have a favorite position?"

"Do you want me to tell you something terrible?"

"Of course."

"It's horrible. It objectifies women in the worst way."

"Really?" That sounds kind of fun.

"Yeah. If you don't judge me, I'll tell you."

"I won't judge you."

"Okay, then. Some years ago, when I was really immature, I developed my own way of classifying women."

"Classifying?"

"Yeah. Shall I go on?"

"Do."

She doesn't mind at all, of course, but she enjoys pretending that he might offend her. It's a pleasant distraction now that she remembers her nakedness and that he's about to... well, to fuck her.

"Like this. I sorted women into what kind of sex they're good for. For example, a missionary position woman would have a pretty face to look at during sex, especially a sexy mouth, and long legs to wrap around my waist. Or, for example, a doggy-style woman would have a nice ass and kind of a naughty attitude. And so on."

"Okay."

"Some women, really special ones, are good for more than one thing."

"That is objectifying."

"Yes. Of course it's not just about superficial things. Personality also counts."

"That's very broad-minded of you."

"Of course. In fact, a blow-job woman is mostly a matter of personality."

"A blow-job woman. You're a very enlightened man."

"And the best women, with the most flawless figures and the best personalities, were the ones good for everything."

"Okay."

"And you, May, are good for everything."

She laughs. "That's not too terrible, then."

"Not for you. Some women would be very offended, so we can't tell them."

"Oh, I definitely won't. But what's actually your favorite position?"

"Well, with a woman like you, who's good for everything, my absolute favorite is just sitting up. Like we were doing on the sofa downstairs, but, you know, naked, and," he whispers, "with my cock in your pussy."

"Mmmmm," she agrees. "That does sound nice. Why do you like it so much?"

"Because I can see everything — I can see my cock going in your pussy, I can see the way your pussy lips engulf it, I can see your tits jiggling, the expressions on your face — and my hands can go everywhere from your thighs and hips and tits to your face and hair, and with a nice tall woman like you I can even kiss your tits. The problem with this position is that it's a little bit of work for you. You actually have to do most of the moving. So maybe it's not the best for the first time. We can work on it later."

"What do you think is best for the first time?"

"Either missionary or doggy, depending on what you want."

"What do you think?"

"Missionary is more romantic, because we can kiss and look in each other's eyes, but for a lot of girls doggy is more comfortable. The angle kind of fits better, which matters at first when you're really tight, and you don't have to worry about what your face looks like."

"Do you care which one we do?"

"Nope. We're going to do both a lot of times. But the first time we should just pick something comfortable for you."

"Actually, doggy sounds better to me, if it's okay with you."

She thinks she'll feel a little more comfortable if he can't see her face, and the beastliness of it excites her a little. She imagines: he'll just take her! From behind!

"It's better than okay."

"I am a little worried about how big your, um, ...."

"My cock."

"Yes. It looks kind of big to me. Do you think it'll fit?"

"I know it will. The length doesn't matter, you won't have a problem with that, but the girth is going to stretch you a bit. You'll appreciate it later, but at first it's, well, not as pleasant. But we're going to lube you up to make it as easy as possible, and I'll be gentle."

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Probably a little. Some women, it hurts a lot; some it doesn't hurt at all; but it hurts most women a little. If it hurts, and you want to stop, let me know. I don't want to hurt you, so please let me know if it hurts."

"You won't be disappointed or anything?"

"Not even a little."

"Not at all?"

He can hear a little disappointment in her voice.

"I mean, maybe a little tiny bit. You know exactly what I'd like to do. If I knew it wouldn't hurt you, I'd just bang it out."

"You could do that," she suggests hopefully.

"I will, and I'll do it many, many times. But tonight I really, really don't want to hurt you, okay? That's really important. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So we're going to try to do it gently tonight, if I can help myself."