Shay's Stories

Every marriage is a black box. A foreign and unknown country to outsiders. This is why so many people express utter bewilderment when they learn details of others' relationships. "How could she put up with that?" Or, "I'd leave a woman who did such-and-such..." Not to excuse actual abuse or unkindness of course, but no one can truly understand unless they are one of the people involved.

I'm Shay, and my marriage isn't so strange, really. But there are details that would definitely surprise and even perplex people if they knew. It certainly couldn't work in the same way with anyone else. But it's ours and we love it. I've just spent the last forty minutes being the small spoon while my husband fell into a deep sleep, as he often does after we've had our happy exercise.

Eric is a good man. Let me restate that with capitals -- he's truly a Good Man. He loves me, accepts me, treats me with respect and as a full partner. The acceptance is the one for which I should probably be most grateful. We grew up in similar circumstances, but our paths were very different in some respects. He was super focused on school, getting into the right college and moving into a big career. Or rather, he thought he was. It was actually his parents who were focused and Eric didn't know there was any other way.

But with experience comes self-awareness and he had been out of grad school a few years when he realized he wasn't enjoying life very much. Early on he related a conversation with a high school friend. John was as bright as Eric, but had not been pushed in the same way by his family. He worked in a field he chose, changed careers when he didn't like it anymore, did what he wanted and generally had a good time in life. It was a revelation to Eric, and he felt envious. John was surprised because Eric had always been seen as the one who had it all together and would go far. Maybe so, but Eric never felt he had a say in the matter.

We were well into our relationship before Eric told me the coda to that story, which was that he was envious of John's personal life too. Apparently he had cultivated a series of very attractive and adventurous girlfriends. I asked what he meant by adventurous, and it took some time to draw the full answer from him. Eric and I were enjoying a decent sex life, in both senses of the word - which is to say it was acceptable, and it would have offended no one's sensibilities. But John had offhandedly mentioned some details that Eric found shocking and intriguing. Girls who were... unlike any he had ever dated.

Eric was definitely not one of those tiresome men with a Madonna / Whore complex, and wasn't a prude. Far from it, actually. He was as interested in sex as anyone when he was a teenager, he just hadn't been around anyone who would indulge him. He treated his girlfriends respectfully and never pushed them, but also never had the experiences he craved. Again, Eric felt he didn't have much say in the matter. Being a good person, women were not there to be coerced into things they didn't want to do. He could ask, but accepted the answer 'no'. And a few handjobs aside, it was usually no.

Although I learned the details later, it was this attitude that drew me to him and made me say 'yes'.

We met at a bookstore. Finding out a guy is a reader is always a good sign, and if it turns out he's into some of the same authors as me he's on the fast track to getting into my pants. I say the three hours we spent talking in the Barnes & Noble café that day did not constitute a date - mostly because I enjoy saying I put out on our actual first date, when we met up a week later.

It was a town about halfway between where we each lived, a thirty minute drive. I had chosen an outdoor hotel bar because it was a public place. Or so he thought. It was really so I could suggest we get a room if things went as I thought they might. Over lunch the conversation picked up where we had left it at the bookstore, confirming the connection hadn't been a fluke. In ten minutes I decided we would sleep together.

It had started raining, and I love a good rainstorm. Eric suggested going inside, but I preferred huddling together under the umbrella. He took a chance and put his hand on my leg. I rewarded his boldness by moving it to my breast. The jacket draped around my shoulders shielded us from prying eyes, and Eric slid his hand over me for some time, absorbing my shape. We kissed slowly and deliciously. He took another chance. "Suppose I wanted this to go further?"

"Suppose I said no?" I asked, curiously.

"That's totally fine." He meant it. Disappointed for sure, but I could see he would respect my wishes.

He removed his hand from my breast and went to place it on my knee again. I caught it in mid-air and put it back. Looking into his eyes I smiled, kissed him and said, "Book us a room, please. I'll pay half."

Eric later told me he felt as if he'd won the lottery when he found himself watching me undress for him. I remember the moment well. He was a together guy, and I could see how he could handle himself well in other areas of life. But he was not prepared to go from eating lunch fifteen minutes ago to me dropping my clothes and posing for him on a hotel bed. He had readily agreed to getting the room and certainly knew what would happen. I knew I wasn't his first, but he had obviously never been with a girl who was so willing.

Despite the fact that it was now a sure thing, Eric was being careful not to be pushy. Once in the room he attempted small talk. He even sat on the other bed across from me, not wanting to appear too forward or eager. So I took matters into my own hands and simply stood up and began taking my clothes off. I've always been petite, but at that time I could have been described as waif-like. Eric couldn't keep his jaw from dropping slightly as I casually tossed my things on the bed and stood before him patiently, just letting him look.

Soon I was in his lap, enjoying that he was still dressed as we kissed soulfully. Moments later I slinked down to my knees. Eric gasped loudly when I took him into my mouth. Again, not his first time, but I was certainly his most enthusiastic. Enthusiasm tops skill most of the time, I'm told. And while impressed, he seemed to not realize what he was getting into until I deftly slipped a condom on him behind my back. I wanted to be taken on my hands and knees and it was just the thing to do. For Eric it was a clue about who I really was.

It was also memorable when the time came for round two, and I made a point of taking the condom off. He was on top, between my eagerly spread legs. I knew we were going to have something more together than a fling, so it felt right to take him bare. He hesitated only briefly, until I pulled him into me. Soon I was whispering in his ear that it was okay to let it go inside me, and for first of many times I felt him fill me up as he moaned his pleasure next to my ear.

Our relationship quickly blossomed in every way. Nothing worth doing is easy, but we had no major issues. The sex was good from the start and got better. But I was taking my time laying out my kink cards. Eric was thrilled to finally have a girl with as high a sex drive as his, but hadn't realized yet how the deep the possibilities went. I think he worried he might ask for one thing too far and cause me to pull back. This had happened before, as I learned when we began telling each other stories from our past. It was these stories that eventually brought us to the wonderful place we are now.

He had had a girlfriend in high school named Emily. Nice girl, nice family, and they had a nice relationship. She was pretty and occasionally seemed interested in the heavy petting teenagers get up to. But as Eric recalled, the times Emily was most excited also resulted in her shutting down and experiencing guilt. She just wasn't ready to go further and Eric, to his credit, didn't press her.

Later he had some more adventurous girlfriends, including one who introduced him to mild kink. But Eric was still learning what he liked, and I sensed he was leery of asking for some of the things he had in mind.

Enter me, a girl who has always been very sexual and was lucky to have some amazing experiences early on. While I wouldn't be with a guy who looked down on my sexual past, I was aware that rolling it out slowly was sometimes best. As I realized Eric very likely wanted to ask for more, I came to be the one who felt like I was holding a winning lottery ticket. I could be as sexual as I wanted with Eric, and I had only to bring him along at the right pace.

I began to notice Eric seemed very interested in my past experiences, despite his efforts to appear casual about it. The thing is, a girl can tell when what she says makes a cock extra hard an instant later. No hiding that. One night he was telling me about the few handjobs he got when he was younger - how the girls were so timid, especially when he would orgasm and they would frustratingly stop or shy away.

"That's a shame," I said offhandedly. "I always found it got a guy's attention when I would look him in the eye and lick it up off his belly." Eric lurched beside me. His cock was already poking at my hip, but it suddenly stiffened into a piece of iron. I reached down and wrapped my palm around it.

"You really did that for a guy?" he asked breathlessly.

It took me a moment to answer because Eric was suddenly kissing me deep and hard. I nodded and helped him move on top. His cock still in my hand, I rubbed the tip against my opening. "I did that for a few guys." Eric groaned and entered me.

He fucked me hard for a few moments, then slowed down. He wanted to talk more. "The first time, was it your idea or his?"

"Mine." Another groan from Eric. "I decided early on I wasn't going to be afraid of a guy cumming."

He was thrusting hard again, but we continued talking into each others' ears. "The first time I gave a handjob his parents were upstairs, so we had to be quiet. But when he came I made sure to stroke it all out so I could see."

"Yeah?" he asked, encouragingly.

"I liked that, so I did it for him for a few weeks. Then one day when we were alone and I decided to lick it up."

"He must have loved that!"

"Oh, he did," I said, nodding into Eric's shoulder. "But he liked it even more when I started giving blowjobs and swallowing."

That send him over the edge. I gripped Eric's back while he stiffened, beyond talking now and just moaning loudly. A few more thrusts and he filled me up, one of my favorite feelings in the world.

I stroked his hair while he came down. "Good?"

"Incredible," he gasped.

After resting a few minutes he slowly pulled his cock from me and collapsed on his back. I put my head in the crook of his shoulder. "You seem to like hearing about my early adventures."

"I can't believe you were so self possessed at eighteen."

I nodded. "I was a reader. And I had a Walkman."

"A Walkman?"

"Yes, I used to listen to Dr. Ruth on the radio when I was supposed to be sleeping. And thank god for her. Today there are a million podcasts, but back then we just had Dr. Ruth if you wanted to learn about sex from someone sensible."

"And that's how you decided to... be bold."

I hedged. "Well, that and a few books. The Story of O, some Gorean novels. They were terribly written, but definitely gave me some ideas. Good thing I had Dr. Ruth to put it all into perspective."

"The story of who?"

"Later. Do you want to hear more about my 'education'?"

Eric nodded eagerly. "Tell me about the first time you swallowed. Had you thought about it before or did it just happen?"

As I settled in to tell the story I angled my head down so I could see Eric's cock. "I don't remember how I knew, but I understood the difference between a 'spitter' and a 'swallower'. Not something I talked about with my friends, so I may have read it. Anyway, I decided I wanted to swallow. It seemed really intimate and personal."

Eric's cock gave a little twitch. With a small grin, I continued.

"I had heard Dr. Ruth talk a little about roles. How some people like being submissive or dominant. I didn't take it on as an identity, but I knew I liked the idea of being a little submissive. So I kind of decided that giving blowjobs was women's work, and I had better get good at it."

A big twitch this time. He was getting hard again.

"I was a little worried about the taste, but after cleaning him up from the handjobs I was fine with it."

Eric was now raging hard, and it wasn't even fifteen minutes since we had finished our first round. I was glad he was enjoying my stories. With some tiresome guys it goes the other way. Now I clambered down the bed and knelt between Eric's legs, gently teasing his balls.

"When did you first try it?" he asked expectantly.

"Well, getting the privacy was tough. But one day we were home from school early on a half-day."

I was stroking him now.

"We did our usual petting, but when I took out his cock I looked up, smiled and put it in my mouth. It all felt very natural to me to keep it there until he came, and I found I enjoyed swallowing."

"I wish I had met a girl like you sooner." Eric was just about ready, so I decided one more story would do the trick.

"If you're really interested, you should ask me what I did a couple of boyfriends later when I was in college."

Eric was now climbing between my legs. Normally he would check that I wanted more sex, but I enjoyed it when he got excited enough that he didn't ask. I put my knees up and back and pulled his ear down to my mouth once more as he sank it into me.

"Ooh, you're so hard! You really do like my stories."

He could only grunt and nod for me to continue.

"Go slow baby, and I'll tell you. I was a freshman and I liked that I could be dirty in bed while still appearing to be naïve and studious to everyone else. So I made sure my boyfriends could keep their mouths shut."

Eric briefly managed a coherent sentence while he continued thrusting into me. "What college boy can keep his mouth shut about that?"

"It was actually no problem when they found out what they were getting. A loyal girlfriend who would happily put out, swallow or... take it on her face."

My husband lurched, then held still in an effort not to cum early. I waited until he was under control to finish my story. Timing is everything in life, after all. Eric asked again, "His idea or yours?"

"Mine. I had been thinking about it a while, and one day I was curled up next to him giving a blowjob. When he was about to cum I pulled it out, laid my head down on his belly and stroked."

"He must have gone crazy!"

I nodded quickly, my own orgasm building from the memory. "He was very surprised, but he loved it. He was a young guy and could cum a lot, so I was totally covered. I felt so slutty, but also proud of myself." With that I slipped over the edge, finishing before Eric. I usually prefer that to the simultaneous climax because we can each focus on the other's pleasure more easily.

Moments later it was Eric's turn. I added one further comment to make his orgasm that much more intense. "Of course, he wanted it again. So after that I wore a lot of cum on face. From him and a couple others."

Eric, bless him, filled me up a second time. I loved it when he finished inside me when I was already full of his cum. Makes me feel extra dirty. After relaxing a moment we ended up laughing together, which is always a joyful release at the end of intimacy. He was shaking his head, "I can't believe how much you turn me on."

I smiled knowingly. "We're not even into junior year yet."

Story time became a staple for Eric and I. While I was always honest, and I was no longer worried about a bad reaction, I also tried to hold something back just to have new material over time. Sex would often involve the retelling of some of my "greatest hits".

He loved the first facial story, as well as one about me casually changing clothes when my boyfriend's roommate was in the room. His shock at learning I had later given blowjobs to two guys in one day didn't stop Eric from fucking me silly moments later. I pretended to be nonchalant about it -- it's not like the two guys knew about one another, I just enjoyed giving blowjobs when I could. It was an exciting moment from my younger days that I still treasured, and Eric asked for that story a lot. I think what he likes most is that I did it largely for my own pleasure. Apart from the guys involved, nobody else would have guessed that I was on my knees twice in a day for different guys, and I loved having that secret. And I loved sharing it with Eric, who loved me.

Soon we came to my time with Paul. This was the period when my innately high sex drive was channeled into serious exploration of my submissive side. Eric took it really well, to my relief. Actually, that's misleading. While at first he seemed concerned for my former self, and surprised at the intensity and daring of some of those experiences, he couldn't help being fiercely turned on hearing about them. It was also an important step in getting to know the real me, and his acceptance of my youthful antics was gratifying.

It took a while for Eric to see how I could enjoy scenarios where I seemed to be giving everything and receiving nothing. That Paul controlled my orgasms (denying me more often than not) was understandable from the guy's point of view, but not mine. This led to useful discussion about the nature of submission and what it meant to me. In fact, I received a lot from it in my own way. This realization was great for me at the time, and also later when Eric began to see my perspective. It's not that we were holding debates about sexuality and consent. It was more like, "Honey, here's something I did back in the day..." Eric would often be surprised at first, learning more later, but always turned on. It brought us closer and created more and more intimacy.

By the time we were married I had told Eric most of my stories from that time. There was the time Paul called me over to his house to put out for him, making me strip at the front door before I entered. One favorite was how Paul would often use me before I left the house in the morning. Just that word horrified and fascinated Eric -- that my boyfriend "used' me at his whim. Paul would wait until I had showered, dressed and made myself presentable. Just as I was about to pick up the car keys he would order me to drop my pants and bend over the sofa. With minimal talking or fuss he would fuck me until he came in my pussy, at which point I would readjust my clothes and walk out the door. He enjoyed knowing I would be leaking cum for the next hour or two as I went about my day. I loved it too because it felt unspeakably dirty, and I enjoyed having that secret.

But I noticed that with Eric, it always seemed to come back to photos and videos. He really liked hearing how Paul recorded me being very explicit, and desperately wished more of them still existed (combination of a hard drive failure and Paul being an inherently ethical guy). He was amazed and aroused that I not only allowed this, but encouraged it. I explained that it was before social media, before smart phones. When digital cameras became a thing in the early aughts, what else would we use them for?

I can't tell you how often we fucked our brains out while talking about the time Paul had me posing for naked photos with his roommate watching. The rest of that particular story has its moments too. But the truth is, I'm one of those girls who gets turned on when a camera is pointed my way. Getting naked for a man with a camera brings up a lot for me. It triggers my submissiveness, my tendency toward exhibitionism, feelings of intimacy and trust with the man holding the camera, and even some degradation. What if he shows his friends? That would be utterly humiliating... and also a huge turn on.