The Dark Portal

When we had both come home the next evening, we didn't really discuss the emotional consequences of what we had done. We never did, but we also never made love again, I think partly because we simply didn't have another opportunity to be alone in the apartment.

I do remember asking her if her bottom had felt all right that morning, and she said, "It was fine, but I was sitting in a meeting and stuff kept leaking out of me."

Donna

I was working at my first real journalism job--five days, eight hours per--when I walked into a nearby sandwich shop one day. I could see that the owner was busy doing something back in the kitchen, but after a moment a remarkably cute, blond, and freckled young woman bounced out to greet me.

"Jim's busy. I've been ordered to come out and flirt with you," she said.

"Well, that suits me right down to the ground," I said.

"What?"

"Never mind," I said. "What's your name?"

And that was the clever opening salvo. We turned out to have friends in common, and talked for an hour. I asked Donna out and she accepted, and things moved fast.

What followed was an odd and intense five-month romance that had me questioning my previous determination to avoid domesticity and children, because Donna already had a child: a boy around five years old. He spent much of the time with his grandma, Donna's mother.

Donna, in her mid-twenties, was all carnal, but in a way that seemed almost childish. My female friends who met her gave me a lot of side-eye. Donna was not an intellectual. She was earthy, sensuous, intensely focused on me. And her ass! Voluptuous, not fat, unblemished, white, classically shaped. Today, it would have its own site on the internet.

I was suddenly and completely obsessed. I spent every night I could with her in her ramshackle apartment, and on the weekends I would find places to go and things to do with her. I met Donna's mother and Donna met my brother. I was ignoring my other relationships. I was in a continuous state of arousal, masturbating often, even at work--especially at work. I began thinking seriously for the first time in my life about what would happen if I were to get married.

One night I was nuzzling my way under her crotch, changing positions, and I stuck my tongue up her ass in passing. Her anus was the opposite of Samantha's--so loose that I could wiggle my tongue back and forth in her chute.

I remember wondering if I were somehow still in her pussy, and then thinking, "My god! It's like a dance floor in there," and at that point she let out a primal animal groan of pleasure. She was always a screamer, but this was so loud I was afraid her downstairs neighbors would think I was hurting her.

I ignored this obvious signal. I don't know why. I might have been too drunk for conditions.

On several occasions, she would say things in bed like, "I'm a fish for you, Tom Jackson." I didn't understand what she meant by that. I probably should have asked. Another time, I lay behind her and lifted her leg so I could fuck her pussy and still use my fingers to play with her clit. She came hard. While we were still panting, she turned her face to me and said, "You can get me off any way you want, Tommy."

I ignored those signals too. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. One time she actually said, "You can do anything you want to me." The only thing I can think of to explain how fucking stupid I was is to point out that this was the height of "women's lib," during which several women had trained me carefully to not be an asshole. Another thing was that no woman had ever said anything like these things to me.

Finally, one afternoon when I was rubbing oil all over her, I got to her beautiful ass and was rubbing her little hole. She turned her face to me and said, "I want you to do me there."

So I did. Once again, I had no lube except oil, but it presented little problem. Based on previous experience, I told her I would like to take some time to play with her ass, to relax her butthole, but she said, "No, just do it."

She took charge, lying on her side with me behind her, and using her own fingers to guide me into position. I entered her very slowly until I was buried to the balls. This was the first time I didn't just blow at that point. We actually fucked, slowly, and I was amazed at the tightness of her asshole. I was also surprised that she was able to squeeze me and release, using whatever those muscles in there are. It was memorable, but again I didn't last long. I never did last long enough in the dark passage for a woman to really relax, although Donna was enjoying it more than anybody else ever did.

Afterward, she said, "What did that feel like for you?"

"I felt like a hand in a rubber glove was squeezing my cock. What did it feel like to you?"

"It was intense," she said.

That was Donna. I think she wanted it partly because it was intense.

But the whole thing went to hell right about there. I don't remember fucking her again in the usual way or otherwise. It was Donna that I was talking about in Bonnie's story (Grand Prix), when I spoke of a "mentally unstable cutie" who dumped me and went back to her old boyfriend.

In retrospect, she saved me from myself. I was besotted. I think the fact that I was seriously considering asking this woman to marry me, knowing that we had almost nothing in common, that she had a son and a couple of obvious neuroses, and that I had no desire whatsoever to support a family, is evidence of the power she had over my alleged brain. Or maybe my brain wasn't involved at all. Best ass of all time, though.