Sharing a Problem

I didn't want that again.

"No James. It's fine. Look, it doesn't mean we can't have loads of sex. It doesn't mean I won't enjoy it.

I loved it just now, your skin against mine, your body on top of me. We felt so close. It felt so good. That's enough for me.

I like you, James, I really like you. I might be, beginning to fall in love with you. Is that enough?"

"Of course it is." And he kissed me so passionately and so tenderly that I thought I was going to melt.

"I love you too."

And before I know it, we were making love again. My legs spread wide to let him glide his big dick into my smooth, velvety darkness.

He feels so good inside me. This is amazing. This is the best sex I've ever had.

I know I'm still not going to come but knowing that and him knowing that makes me feel so safe and he fucks me so tenderly and so lovingly, it makes me feel delicious.

I can hear his breathing change key.

"Come inside me baby. I want your cum. I want you to fill my wet pussy with your cum."

He looks me deep in the eyes and thrusts deep. I can feel his cock pumping inside my tight, stretched pussy.

Fuck, that feels good.

Afterwards, I'm lying in his arms, feeling so close to him when he says:

"So, you've never had an orgasm in your life?"

Normally, when a boyfriend has asked me that, I just lie and say "never" but I feel so close to James right now that I don't want to lie.

"Umm, I wouldn't say that."

So, wondering if this is a terrible mistake I tell him everything. I've never told a single human being, not even Trixie, about my habits before. My love for erotica has always just been a matter between me and my sheets.

"Wow," he says.

"Wow, what?" Worried he'll be upset, disappointed, disgusted even.

"Wow. That's hot." I look at him. I can see he's turned on again.

"I mean its a really shame that's the only way you can get there but I really love the thought of it. You naked in your bed, reading dirty books, touching yourself, getting yourself off."

"You really like it?" I ask? I can see that he does.

"Yes," he nods.

"I'm not always naked you know. Sometimes I like to dress up in my sexy lingerie."

"Oh, God."

I can see that even though we've just fucked twice, he's ready to go again.

"Have you ever seen that, in real life I mean? A girl touching herself? Touching herself for you?"

He shook his head mutely. I twitch the sheets aside so my bare body is exposed in the night light.

I spread my legs, wide.

"I hope you don't mind," I say, as I like one finger and slide it down over my clit, "but some bad boy has been fucking me and my pussy's still full of his cum." I can feel him oozing out of me.

"No, I don't mind."

I can feel his eyes on me. On my body. On my pussy. Eyes fixes down there as I slide my fingers through my wetness and his cum.

I've never been an exhibitionist. Never done anything like this before but it feels amazing, having him watch me like this, devouring me with his eyes.

And now he's crouching over me, stroking his cock, eyes still fixed between my legs.

He looks good wanking, wanking over me.

"Hey baby," I say as I can sense his excitement rising.

"Hey baby, I think I've go enough of you down there why don't you come up here and wank off jover my tits?"

"Oh, God," he says looking up. Eyes flicking from my eyes, my tits, my pretty pink pussy.

"Oh God," he says again.

"Come on my tits, baby, please. Come on my tits."

"Oh God," he says a third time as he comes hard all over both my breasts. There is still a surprising amount of it and it drips down my cleavage.

"Oh God," he says one last time, collapsing on top of me and kissing me before, limbs tangled and sticky and sweaty we fall into a deep and satisfied sleep.

The next morning, over coffee and croissants James suddenly asked me,

"Could I read some?"

"Some what?"

"Some of the erotica you read?"

"Umm", I paused.

If it was a big step to even admit I read this stuff, it would be an even bigger one to let him share in the details.

What if he didn't like it? Or it turned him off or he just thought it was silly? I wasn't sure I was quite ready to open myself up to him like that.

I also hadn't forgotten I'd pretty much told him I loved him last. I deliberately didn't straight out say "I love you" but I don't think he'd picked up on the distinction.

I'd never got this far so fast with a boy before and it felt good but it was a little nervy too. I wanted to slow things down a bit more.

"Maybe later," nonchalant.

"OK," he replied. "It would be really cool to share that with you but, yeah, later."

And he didn't push it any further.

I kept on thinking about it though. It would be cool to share it with him. Cool or maybe hot.

If it got him off too then it would be almost like getting off together, or at least as close as we could manage.

But it would be too exposing and I wasn't, quite, ready to go there just yet. But I kept it in mind.

Things kept on getting better so I kept on wondering whether maybe now was the time.

We became more or less inseparable. I liked his friends, he liked mine. We liked enough of the same music and films to have common ground but there was enough that was different to keep it interesting.

He was a geek and that wasn't, I thought, really my style. He kept on wearing T Shirts for corporations which turned out to be fictional evil organisations, which I thought was silly but somehow sweet.

And the sex was good. He did make me melt and we felt good naked together, out interlocking sex organs interlocking beautifully.

He turned out to have a particular talent for going down on me.

At first I was reluctant. I thought this was him on an orgasm mission even though he'd sworn he wasn't.

So it was a surprise as the truth slowly dawned on me.

He actually liked it. More than that, loved it.

He loved the taste and scent of my wet pussy, loved lapping my juices and sucking my juices, my thighs wrapped around his head.

It took a while for me to trust him, to just lie back, legs spread and let him pleasure me but once I did nothing felt so good.

Oh God, if only he could make me come!

And that remained the only fly in the ointment. The one thing we never talked about but which I knew was still the grey cloud in our otherwise perfectly blue sky.

We didn't spend every evening together and I made sure that any evening I was alone was an evening to fully indulge.

I would take an early bath and change into my silk pajamas and then retire to bed with my favourite stories.

But even this wasn't the same. I couldn't just lose myself in my fantasies about naughty schoolgirls and lusty firemen, I kept thinking about James, his face, his body, his voice.

Another change was a more naughty one.

At first, when James would go down on me, I wouldn't let him kiss me afterwards. I had no wish to taste my own pussy juices.

But once or twice, I was so turned on that I just had to kiss him and tasting myself on his lips was actually a real turn on. I thought about how Charli had tasted and just turned myself on more.

So, now, as I touched myself I made sure to lick my fingers every now and then, tasting my own sex. I knew it would turn James on but I was too shy to tell him.

Eventually, though, I knew I had to let him in.

I was in bed alone with one of my favourite stories, lying on my back with one hand still down my black silk french knickers, chest heaving under my black silk camisole.

It was an old favourite, a eighteenth century nobleman's daughter and a lusty stablehand, giving into their desires in a rustic hayloft.

It was a bit corny I knew but surprisingly well written. It had a slow buildup but the sex was wild and passionate, but nothing too kinky. I loved a good historical set up.

It certainly did the trick and I was getting wet long before the reluctant young virgin let her lover kiss her thoroughly under the rafters.

By the time he hand bent her over a haybale and was deeply ploughing her furrow, I gave myself to the pleasure building between my thighs and I came even before my young heroine had.

The orgasm was intense, as they usually were when I fingered myself, but not completely satisfying. Even since being with James I was finding it harder and harder to feel complete satisfaction in my alone time. It was clear something was missing.

I lay on the bed, licking my juices from my fingers like a cat, I considered my predicament. Amazing, tender, intimate dirty sex but no orgasms with James. Amazing orgasms but no real satisfaction alone.

I thought about the story I had just read.

I thought James might like it. It was a bit girly maybe but he liked history, he might appreciate the setting. The sex, whilst passionate, was quite vanilla really.

He might think it wa silly but it couldn't be much worse than that.

I called James. He answered on the second ring.

"Still want to read one of those stories?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied. He didn't have to ask which stories.

"Check your inbox," I said and hung up.

I emailed him the story. Feeling brave I took a selfie of myself in my French Knickers and camisole as well.

"Here's the story and here's me reading the story. Hope you like them.x"

Then I waited.

I lay there on the bed in my sexy lingerie thinking about James reading the story. I started to worry that he'd hate.

But I couldn't stop thinking of him getting hard as he read, maybe even touching himself. Maybe looking at picture and wanking that big dick of his.

I could feel myself get hot and wet and uncomfortable as I waited nervily for a response.

About fifteen minutes later, it came.

"That's hot, baby."

"You liked it?"

"Yeah. But I mean, well. Mostly I liked thinking of you. Touching yourself. Getting off."

"Do you like that?"

"You know I do."

"James?"

"Yes."

"Read to me." This is what I wanted, what I really wanted. For him to read to me, while I touched myself. Getting off to that deep sexy voice of his.

There was a pause. My pussy ached in anticipation.

"Sure."

"Oh God. Just wait a moment."

I put my phone on speaker. Made sure my windows and curtains were shut. I plumped my pillows and leaned back, smoothing my black silk lingerie down over my body. I turned the light down low.

"Begin," I commanded.

There was a pause and then:

"It was a hot and sultry night as Palomina made her way to the stables carrying a pitcher of water."

He read really well. His voice was low and deep but very clear. It had a velvety texture that I'd never really noticed before.

I felt myself shiver in anticipation.

I ran my hands lightly down my body as he read, running over the outside of my underwear for now. I pictured James picturing me, wondering if he was getting hard already.

I pinched a nipple through the dark silk, feeling it hard and pointy already, I rubbed the fabric between my legs, feeling the delicious friction against my sensitive skin.

As he read on, I rubbed softly between my legs feeling the heat rising.

As Nathaniel kissed Palomina, as he slid his hand upwards under her skirt, I slid my hand under the waistband of my French Knickers, feeling my flesh against my flesh, just as Palomina felt Nathaniel's.

By the time Nathaniel had Palomina bent over a haybale with his majestic manhood sliding inside her wet, womanly spaces, my knickers were on the floor and my legs were spread wide as I fingered myself with both hands, fingers sliding over my clit and deep, deep inside me.

God, I was so wet, I could hear the sounds of my pussy over the sounds of James's voice.

Surely the microphone on my phone wasn't good enough to pick that up? I didn't care if it did.

I was sure though that he could hear me beginning to moan.

I didn't moan when we made love because I only moaned when I came. But I was moaning now.

There was a slight catch in James's voice as he must have heard me, but he kept his composure and read on. There was just slight quaver in his voice, to reflect his growing excitement.

"Oh God," I was moaning loud now, moaning like a whore, moaning like Palomina with Nathaniel's big, hard dick inside.

"Fuck," Palomina came, Nathaniel came.

I came.

I hope to God, James came too.

"Oh James," I cried, as the most terrific orgasm tore through my body.

"Oh, James. That was fucking wonderful.

"Oh James," I cried again. "I need you hear now."

"Give me twenty minutes," he said, and hung up.

I lay there on my bed, legs still spread, naked apart from my cami top which was rucked up over my tits.

I was breathing hard and feeling flushed.

Normally, after getting all worked up like this, I'd have a shower, clean myself up.

But I wanted to James to find my like this, disshelved, sweaty, juicy. The state he'd reduced me to.

I looked at my phone. Only four minutes since he'd hung up.

Twenty minutes was possible for him to get here but thirty or thirty five was more likely, depending on what the tube was doing.

I got up and paced anxiously round the flat.

I decided to get changed. I lost the top and slipped into a cream silk dressing gown with little pink flowers on it (I like silk, you may have noticed).

It felt cool against my hot and sweaty body. I didn't pull it together so my tits and my pussy were fully exposed.

I waited.

At the nineteen minute mark, I heard a car pull up outside. I peered through the curtains. It was a cab. It was James.

Thirty seconds later and we were together in my landing.

He kissed me with an urgency, I hadn't felt from him before but it was thrilling. His hands were on my tits and pussy almost before, I'd even got the door closed. My robe was on the floor seconds later.

"James" I whispered, as I felt his hands moving inside my soaking wet cunt,

"James. Bend me over the table. Fuck me like Nathaniel fucked Palomina."

He didn't need telling twice. He pulled me into the dining room and pushed me roughly down onto the table, my arse pointed up at him.

His cock thrust deep inside me. Fuck, he'd never fucked my like this before, so masterful, so in control.

James was still almost fully clothed and I was completely naked, bent over for him, just like his little slut.

He fucked me to make himself feel good. I'd had my turn and now he wanted his.

Fuck, it was exciting.

When it was over, we collapsed in a heap on the floor, tangled up together.

It felt so good to have made mad passionate love like that and to finish it with a pussy that was satisfied and not just aching for resolution.

And, no, James still hadn't made me come exactly but I'd been able to share my orgasm with him, which is something I'd never been able to do before.

The next night we were together, I plucked up the courage early on in the evening.

"James. Would you read to me again."

He put down his drink and looked me deep in the eyes.

"Of course. Where do you want me? Do you want to do it over the phone again?"

"No. I'd want you in the same room. I don't want to wait for you to get here again, like last time.

But, and this might sound a bit weird, do you mind not facing me?"

Last time had been a really big deal for me and I wanted to take it further, but I wasn't sure I was ready to have him watch me.

I was more than happy to put on a show for him, touching myself to turn him on, but touching myself for myself was something different.

I wanted to share that with him, but not yet.

James was, as ever, completely understanding. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have found a man prepared to go on this journey with me, to go on it together.

We set the bedroom up just so.

I had a whicker chair that we turned to face a corner, away from the bed. We set up a lamp pooling its light around James, leaving the rest of the room swathed in darkness.

James took his place first, settling down, his back to the room. I got changed in the bathroom, slinking into a brand new red silky chemise I'd bought for the occasion. I didn't want James to see me until I was ready for him.

I put my dressing gown on over the top, even though there was no one else there and, very gingerly, knocked on the bedroom door.

"Come in, I'm ready," he called.

It felt funny to be given permission to enter my own bedroom, but somehow appropriate too.

I opened the door and slipped inside. The room was dark but I could see James sitting in the lamplight, his back towards me.

I could see his shoulders and the back of his neck above the line of his t shirt. I'd never noticed how sexy it was before.

I yearned to go over there and put my arms around him, kiss the back of his neck, feel the wait of his body.

But I didn't. That wasn't what this was about.

Letting the dressing gown drop to the floor and wearing nothing apart from my slinky little chemise, I climbed onto the bed.

I plumped the pillows and lay back trying to get comfortable.

James didn't stir. It was maddening, was he as calm as he seemed? Was he as nervous and excited as I was, barely keeping it under control? There was no way of telling from his impassive silence.

For the longest time we were both just frozen, me on the bed, him on the chair, a powerful erotic charge building. I didn't quite dare touch myself but I could tell I would be wet already.

Eventually I decided he must be waiting for me, this was all for my benefit of course.

"Begin," I commanded, trying to sound in control but feeling nervous as hell.

Now we were actually here I had real misgivings about the whole thing.

I already felt as horny as hell but I didn't feel at all relaxed. And that was always a large part of the problem I thought, I couldn't come if I didn't feel relaxed.

James began reading, he had a really wonderful voice and I soon began to fall under its spell, forgetting everything else as I listened.

It was the further adventures of Nathaniel and Palomina. It was really cheesy stuff but sort of wonderful in its way.

After their adventures in the stable, Nathaniel had made his way to Palomina's chamber, climbing up the ivy and surprising her in night gown.

Palomina, torn between desire and remorse is both thrilled and appalled, she tries to send him away before surrendering to her passion.

Almost without noticing it, my hands were slowly moving over my body, over my breasts and my belly over the chemise, over my bare thighs, moving up between my legs.

I could feel my breath coming shallow in anticipation as Palomina put her fingers on Nathaniel's chest, meaning to push him away but somehow pulling him near.

As Palomina's nightgown fell to the floor in the flickering candlelight, I realised my fingers had now entered myself, sliding through my wetness.

All sense of nervousness had left me. James's voice was so calming and authoritative as well as so deep and so sexy, it soothed me even as it aroused me.

I was utterly enraptured spread out on the bed, just as Nathaniel was spreading Palomina, my legs spread wide, my little chemise rucked up so if James had only turned his head, he would have been clearly able to see my fingers dancing in my exposed pussy.

But he didn't turn his head.

Part of me was dying for him to look round. I wanted him to see how wet and wanton he had made me.

But he didn't, he was playing by the rules.

Nathaniel's head was between Palomina's thighs, filling her with all manner of indescribable pleasures. I wished James's head was between mine.

I was so wet now and my fingers moving so fast that he must have been able to hear the sounds of my fingering but he never faltered.

He just kept on reading as Nathaniel's tongue drove Palomina irresistibly towards her climax and my fingers and James's voice drove me towards mine.