Two Gifts for Carol Ch. 02/10

After reading the first chapter, you probably already drew a picture of me. You saw what I told you and filled in my picture with your guesses and intuitions. Maybe you think that I'm a naughty girl who had several partners and lived everything very quickly, that all sexual experiences were easy and simple for me.

I am not even remotely like that.

In the overall, I consider myself to be a normal, average woman. I don't think that I am more naughty than my acquaintances, nor that my experiences came too early or too late.

On the contrary: I am even romantic. I like to have someone with me. This is just not the current scenario. At this moment in my life I have Joshua, a hookup, and nothing else.

But it wasn't always like this.

In the early college years, a few months after that afternoon at Maggie's, I met a guy, Ravi, and I fell madly in love with him right away. Ravi was not exactly handsome, but he was good looking, tall -- I have a thing for tall guys... --, smart as hell, super polite, and caring. How good I felt in his arms! I slept snuggled on his chest and was at peace!

When I broke up with Ravi I suffered a lot. My heart was broken.

At this moment you must be asking yourself: why did you break up with such a nice guy?

Don't misjudge me. I hope that you haven't experienced something like this to have to make such a difficult choice. When we broke up, we loved each other. It's complicated. Sometimes people love each other and yet they need to break up. In some cases, the relationship brings with it feelings other than love, bad feelings. Over time these feelings will gradually eat away at you from the inside. So, a relationship full of love can become poisonous. It can do harm. Unlike what people say, love alone is not enough. Not in all cases. Not for everyone. Love needs to create a healthy, non-toxic environment.

I think I need to tell you one or two episodes for you to understand what I mean. Explaining is not enough.

Ravi lived in another city and came to visit me on weekends. On one of these occasions, I had, for whatever reason, gotten quite horny during the week. I decided that this time would be special.

With the little money I had I bought some provocative panties and put them on. I made sure that the sorority girls would not be home, and got ready. I left a pack of condoms already prepared on the bedside table, made up the bed, closed the curtains, applied some fresh perfume and put on a bit of makeup.

As soon as he rang the intercom, I opened the gate, said nothing and ran to the bed, where I got on all fours. I was, of course, already soaking wet just preparing for this whole scenario. I took one last look in the mirror and decided to lift my ass a bit more. It was great. It was perfect.

"Come in!" I shouted when I heard that he was at the door of the apartment.

Moisture dripped between my legs, my nipples were hard, my mouth was watering.

He came into the room and made a huge surprised expression. I made my naughtiest face at him and invited him to come and take me.

I wished that he had already come and pulled my panties aside and fucked me once and for all. I didn't want any talk or foreplay. I wanted him to fuck me like an animal in heat. But he laid down on top of me and we kissed. My mouth sought his to quench my thirst, my hips almost thrust into his. I couldn't contain my excitement, but he seemed to want something lighter.

"Okay," I thought. "Softer than I wanted, but okay. I'll heat this up now," and I tried to wrap my legs around him. Soon I brought his hands to my breasts.

It took me a while to realize that something was wrong. His cock didn't harden. He tried hard, but nothing changed.

I put my hand on his penis and tried to arouse him, but he soon asked me to stop

"Sorry, my love, I'm not in the mood."

"It's okay," I said, lying down on top of him. I was ashamed that my pussy was still twitching and my breathing was short.

Of course, no one has to have sex without wanting to. As a woman, I know that many of us end up doing it just to please our partner, and it's terrible. Sex needs desire. A lot of desire. If you don't feel like it, you don't do it.

I understood this situation as a one-time thing. Soon, we would have sex again and go back to normal. Everyone has a day or a period when they are less horny.

But this was not what happened.

On the following weekends we alternated a few sessions of sex, more or less hot, with several negative ones from him. He said he wasn't in the mood, that he didn't feel like it, and I was left in the lurch.

A few weekends later, I went to visit Ravi in his town. As usual, I had a repressed lust. A month without kissing, without sex, had left me like this. I was naughty.

We took an Uber to go for a beer. I gave him those kisses with something extra, you know? Those kisses that make a second intention clear? Where the tongue makes soft, provocative movements? Kisses in which the breath reveals a strong, hidden lust? Well, then.

Only it didn't seem enough. I needed to be more explicit. I looked down at his pants and thought of his cock there, beside me. My mouth salivated. I thought about sucking it right there, in the back seat of the Uber, but I didn't have the courage. I don't know what could happen.

So I just put my hand lightly on his pants and whispered in Ravi's ear:

"I want to blow you now, here... I want your cock in my mouth now..."

He looked at me startled.

"What? What do you mean? No!"

The driver heard and didn't understand anything. I noticed that he looked curiously in the rearview mirror.

I was shocked and embarrassed once again. I felt dirty. I tried to disguise it, but it didn't do much good. The rest of the night I just sulked. In the previous days I had tried to warm things up by text messages, but I couldn't. I even sent him some nudes. I thought that I had succeeded in exciting him, but I was wrong. Now I had overcome my shame to say something naughty, to create an atmosphere, and I had been rejected again. I didn't really want to suck him off in the Uber. I just wanted to say it to create a mood. I wanted him to imagine me sucking him off while we could be seen by the driver or the people on the buses next to him. I wanted him to picture spurting cum into my mouth and me swallowing it all, then getting up and wiping myself discreetly before going into the bar and greeting our friends with kisses on the cheeks. That he would think about what it would be like to notice a drop of cum still on my face at the bar and remember the naughtiness we had done. In short, I wanted him to go crazy and when we got to his house, he would take me uncontrollably.

Not like that. Just one more rejection. I had lost count of how many times it had been. How many times I had created the expectation of sex and was not corresponded.

Yes, the truth was that these rejections were becoming more and more common. We did have sex from time to time, but often, most of the time, I think, Ravi didn't feel like it. He would politely tell me that he was not in the mood. Maybe it was something in college or, I don't know, something I didn't understand, but many times we just couldn't have sex.

Of course, I didn't want to pressure him. We have sex when we feel like it. I tried to respect his space as much as possible. Nevertheless, inevitably, I felt rejected. More than that: ugly, unattractive, unsexy. I spent hours wondering what was wrong with me, why he didn't want me, what I lacked.

As always, after a while, we said goodbye and I felt a certain bitterness in my mouth. I think you will agree with me: sex is important for a relationship. The degree of importance depends on each person, each situation, but it is important. I mean... I was young... in college... and my boyfriend couldn't put out my fire... it was too hard...

I decided to talk frankly with him. I believe that open dialogue is key to making relationships work. One Sunday afternoon, I called Ravi into my room. We were alone in the house, as the rest of the girls had either gone to visit their families or were doing something on the street. So I took a deep breath and introduced the subject.

"Ravi, I wanted to talk to you about something. I need to know if you're okay."

"Oh, hi Carol, yes I am, why?"

"About yesterday... I don't know what's going on with you. If it's all right between us or if you're getting more distant".

"No! I love you! Very much!"

I realized that I had touched on a subject that he had already thought about.

"You know, Carol," Ravi continued, choosing his words carefully and blushing, "I don't know... it's just... I don't often feel as much desire as other men seem to. I hear my friends talking about wanting to have sex every day, every hour and I just don't feel like it."

"Has it always been like this? Even with your exes?"

"Always. I like to be together, to watch movies, to kiss, but I don't feel the need to have sex all the time. Does that bother you? Do you think we should have more sex?"

"Yes! Of course!", I thought. But I couldn't be so harsh with him. Putting even more pressure on him didn't seem to be the best strategy.

"It's not so much a question of just having more sex. You know that many times I wanted to, but you didn't feel like it. We seem to have slightly different needs. But the main thing is that I need to know that there's nothing wrong with me or with us. That you feel desire for me...", I said, almost in tears at the end.

"I do!", he said hugging me. "very much! You're so hot!"

"So are we ok?"

"Yes!"

"But, Carol, I already know you want more... I'll make an effort, Ok? I'll do everything I can for us to have the relationship you've dreamed of. I want you to be totally fulfilled with me."

"I am! I love you!"

After that we had sex like we hadn't had for a long time.

Ravi kissed me passionately. Unlike the other times, I felt his hard cock rubbing against my hip from the very beginning. We wrapped our arms around each other with a mixture of horniness, relief, longing, and understanding. It's weird how these feelings affect sex. Each of these emotions gives a different flavor, a different feel, to the affair.

I remember that I was very loose that afternoon, and since he wanted to please me, everything was very easy.

Soon Ravi took off my clothes and spread my legs. I saw him dive his face into my pussy.

He sucked me and I moaned loudly and rolled over, pulling Ravi by the hair against my sex. His tongue entered me and then went to my clit. When I was about to come, I pushed him away and got on all fours.

With a teasing look, I signaled that he should take me hard, and this time he did.

Ravi quickly put on a condom and aimed his cock at my wet cave. He brushed his hard member against me and then held my hips with his left hand and pulled my hair with his right. I love it! I moaned uncontrollably.

Ravi's cock went all the way deep inside my pussy. I screamed. I rolled over. And I rolled again. And I screamed. Free. Happy.

How good it felt to have sex like that with my boyfriend. That's what I wanted! That was it!

I know that you may not think much of it, that it is normal. Maybe you have sex whenever you want with your husband, boyfriend, wife or girlfriend. Maybe you even complain that he or she wants to have too much sex. But understand: for me, it was special. I needed it. I was feeling rejected, ugly. Maybe you don't really value sex because you have enough of it. So maybe you don't know what it is to have someone and still have a repressed lust. It is psychologically painful.

So I rolled over and moaned and enjoyed his every thrust into me. He was thrusting hard and I was responding loudly. I wanted that cock ripping all over me, exploring my pussy all the way down. I wanted him to show how horny he was for me. I wanted him to fuck me like a naughty whore. I didn't want tenderness, I wanted lust. And that afternoon he gave me everything I had hoped for.

With all this going through my mind I reached orgasm. I contracted my sex against Ravi's cock in waves of horniness. I screamed again announcing that I was coming on his cock.

He saw my arousal and rammed me harder, faster, and soon the cum flooded out. His cock throbbed inside me until he released his jets of cum.

Sweaty, I needed a shower. I kissed Ravi and went to the bathroom. To my surprise, Leela, my sorority mate and one of my best friends, was in the living room watching a TV show. I passed her awkwardly, but she gave me an understanding smile.

Ravi left in the evening. We said goodbye in love. I had the strong conviction that everything would get better.

Except that I was wrong.

On the next few dates he again said that he was not in the mood. We kept kissing, my horniness would appear, but then he would say that he wasn't in the mood that night. And then I needed to "calm down". The feeling of rejection returned. My self-esteem was being eroded again.

How many times in those following months did I find an excuse to go to the bathroom and masturbate to try to put out the fire that I felt. After a while, I didn't even try to have sex that much anymore. If I thought it wasn't going to happen, I would wait for him to leave so I could touch myself alone.

Ravi either didn't notice or pretended not to notice my tactics. In any case, nothing changed.

By this time I began to fantasize again and again about having sex with two guys. I would remember Maggie having sex with Dan and Peter and I would go crazy with lust. That was when I bought the two dildos. I needed a sexual outlet. I needed to satisfy myself and, even if I didn't actually blame him for it, my boyfriend wasn't doing that. I couldn't force Ravi to have sex with me, but my horniness wouldn't just vanish.

The problem was that, psychologically, the situation was shaking me deeply.

When, for whatever reason, I got horny I didn't even try to have a sexier chat with Ravi on the phone anymore. I would just close my bedroom door and open my panty drawer in search of my cylindrical treasures.

Poor me: I would take one of the dildo's and caress it, as if it were someone's dick standing next to me, while the other one I would stick in my pussy. In my mind, there were two guys crazy horny for me. Each one wanted to get more and more out of my body. Each one wanted to satisfy me more. One gave me his cock to suck, and the other penetrated me fast. The ending would vary: sometimes I imagined that the first one would cum in me, and then the other one would shove it up my cum-filled pussy and cum too. I would be flooded with cum, which would drip down my legs. Sometimes I pictured them both cumming on my breasts and face, covering me with the white hot liquid of their sex.

After a while, I realized that neither of the two men in my fantasies was Ravi. I thought of either generic, nameless men, or guys I had dated or even celebrities. In my mind I had threesomes with several singers on tours and movie actors. Who do you think crossed my mind? I am sure that at this moment you are thinking about who would be the two men of your dreams. It is unavoidable... Don't be ashamed... Tell me! But even if you don't admit it, I know that after you close this book and get into bed, that's what you'll think about?

But, in the end, I felt worse and worse.

Ravi's rejections destroyed what was left of my self-esteem. As much as I knew it wasn't his fault and it wasn't my fault either, it was not comforting and I was sad all the time. I thought of a thousand ways to solve the situation. My mind went to extremes: one moment I considered giving up sex, having a "buddy" relationship, and the next I thought that maybe having an affair on the side could save my relationship with Ravi.

Yes, the conflict between my sexual needs and my love for Ravi made me think that maybe if I had someone I could just have sex with, I could be with the one I really loved without suffering. It sounds crazy and it might be, but in my desperation, it made some sense. I pictured myself having mindless sex with some man, probably an acquaintance, and then meeting up with my boyfriend just to be together. I could see myself on a messy bed on Friday, being fucked on all fours, being slapped on my perky ass, and getting jets of cum in my face, only to get out of there, take a shower, and wait for Ravi to arrive so we could watch a movie together. There would be love and sex. It just wouldn't be with the same guy.

How many times I wished for this double life. How many times I laid down, talked to Ravi on my cell phone, wished him good night, said "I love you," and then grabbed my dildos and masturbated furiously imagining myself being fucked by another guy or guys.

But, it reached a stage where I couldn't take it anymore.

I could not cheat on Ravi. After all, I loved him and he had never hurt me. But I couldn't be with him anymore either. My mental health had already been damaged too much.

I broke up with Ravi one Sunday. We cried a lot.

Before you ask me: no, Ravi is not gay. Or, at least, I believe he is not. Today he is married and the father of a boy and a girl. He seems to have found a woman who loves him very much. They make a beautiful family. I sincerely cheers for hom, for them. Believe me. It's true. But on the other hand, I know it's none of my business, but unwittingly, when I see his pictures on Instagram, I get curious about their sex life. Is it good? Does he desire her? Does she feel realized? Or is she someone who has never been fucked properly? Maybe, she is some poor soul that believes sex is just that mammy and papa thing...

It was in this condition of immense repressed horniness and destroyed self-esteem that I met Theo.

And Theo not only helped me rebuild myself, but also gave me the missing piece to complete my sexual fantasy. A piece that even I didn't know I needed.