On the Second DatebyBruno1027©
Since she was very young Robin was fascinated with the male body. Growing up she was lucky enough to catch her stepbrother masturbating while she hid in the closet and was initiated to the secret world of males. The image of him, the unabashed pleasure he took in his own body, the ripple of an orgasm and the loud primal moaning as his seed burst from the head of his penis, began an obsession in her for the rest of her life.
As she grew older her fascination with male genitalia grew. She subscribed to fitness magazines to study the inner workings of men and imagined what they could only say to one another. All the things that were so private to men that they kept it hidden from women Men thought of her as bold and they blushed when she asked such probing questions while on dates. Her interest in their private activities, how they felt about their own penis, how it felt to be a man, caused a few to leave before their time. It was for the best, she figured. She liked men that were confident enough to handle themselves in any situations. Shyness was a turn off for her and as soon as she recognized it in a man she lost all interest.
That was the reason she grew more and more attracted to Nick. He seemed fearless. On their first date, when she arrived early and caught him changing for the evening, he boldly dressed in front of her. His penis hung heavily beneath his legs, growing as he noticed the attention she paid it. He showed no concern that his most private area was on view to this woman he had just met. This excited her and for once she was the one flustered and hesitating. Nick noticed his and casually zipped his pants in front of her, his length disappearing slowly before her eyes.
She found that she liked this man. He was funny, intelligent, sweet and masculine. She noticed that about him immediately. He made no apologies for being a man. The way he walked, spoke to her, the way he held himself, even the slight stubble on his chin all belied his nature. She was reserved and felt meek around him. Usually strong and flirtatious, even a look from him could render her quiet.
At the end of the night he wished her goodnight and held her close at her doorstep. She wanted him to spend the night with her, wanted more than anything to feel his naked body against her, the length of his cock warm between her thighs. She caught him looking at her and she started. There was a soft kiss on her lips and then they broke.
"Have a good night. I'll call you later." Even his voice was masculine; deep and pleasant sounding. She dearly hoped he would call. For a moment she considered begging him to stay with her. God knows she had given him enough signs. There was no doubt she was his. He knew that as well, accepting her advances with a modest satisfaction. Now that he was gone she regretted it. Never had she felt so not in control when with a man. She went to bed feeling jilted and despondent.
As she crawled into bed, images of his cock filled her mind and taunted her. It was another thing she would miss about his. His manhood, filling slightly as he openly dressed in front of her, kept her from slumber. She had failed as a woman for this man and now she would miss the attention that every woman desires. Instinctively, she fumbled beneath the sheets and found her sex. Quickly masturbating herself, she had a moderate orgasm, one filled more with regret than pleasure. Partially sated, she slipped into an uneasy sleep.
It wasn't until the next evening when he called. She was soaking in the tub, luxuriating in the hot water and warm bubbles against her skin when the phone rang. Too comfortable in the bath she made no move to get it. Her answering machine picked up and she heard his brawny voice call out in the empty apartment. Immediately she leapt up, her naked body coated with bubbles, and ran to the phone. Rummaging through the house, she couldn't remember where she had left it. Her breasts were chilled in the open air and she shivered uncontrollably.
When she called back she found him leading the conversation again. It was more comfortable for her that way. She merely assented and agreed to all that he said. When he offered she made no attempt at being coy and quickly agreed to meeting the next night. He would pick her up at her home. "Be ready at eight," were his final words.
"I will, I promise."
She spent the rest of the evening excited and the next day couldn't pass fast enough. She had a wonderful idea of being caught while getting ready and allowing him a look at her as he did their previous evening together. Turnabout might be fun, she thought.
Come eight o' clock she was dressed only in the panties and bra she wore that day at work. Not cute enough for the chance of spending the night with him, she had planned to change them when he arrived.
A few minutes before eight, he arrived. Leaping from her dressing table, she ran to the door dressed in only her skivvies. Apologizing for not yet being ready, she let him in and scampered back to her bedroom, allowing him a full view of her backside, tight, round and covered in the thinnest unappealing cotton.
As she planned, she left the door of her bedroom open wide enough to invite his curiosity. He didn't disappoint as he soon casually rested against the doorframe and watched. Trembling slightly, she bent, slipped off her panties and searched her drawer for a sexier pair. He admired the slight slope of her body as it curved into the pleasing hill of her mons. Her hair was darker between her legs, a dark black that contrasted with the fair tone of her skin. When she took off her bra he saw her breasts. They were small with a round fullness and strawberry nipples highlighted against white.
As she saw him watching she felt a wave of shyness and unconsciously covered her breasts. Her pussy, open to his gaze, felt exposed and she clenched her knees together to hide her most private area. He had walked in the room and was coming towards her.
"I can't...," she trailed off, losing the courage she had been hoping for. His hands were on her bare shoulders, making her feel very small. This close to him, with no clothes to hide behind, he seemed more masculine to her. His hand held her wrists gently and urged it away from her and to look at her breasts. One rough hand reached to her and cupped her left breast. She swooned and felt her knees buckle. Were it not for his hold on her she would have collapsed to the floor.
Despite her anxiety, her nipples firmed as he passed two fingers over them. Hearing her gasp, he spoke in a kind voice, "You're very sensitive." She nodded and her placed a hand beneath her chin to force her to look at him. For the first time he noticed his eyes. They were a deep jade green with tiny lines at the corners. They accentuated his looks rather than take from it. He appeared kinder, more benevolent.
"Please, Nick," she bristled at his touch.
"Jeanine," his hands were warm and alluring. She found it hard to resist. Her body wanted him but her mind knew better. "I want to look at you. Don't cover yourself."
She found it hard to obey but his nature, and the warm manly scent around him was reassuring. Only with the most tender firmness did she relent. He held her arms to her side and looked her up and down. She couldn't help but shake as he looked her over, something he didn't miss noticing. With a gentle pressure, he turned her around and ran a finger down the length of her spine.
She felt like an animal on display. Her ass was the part of her body she was most uncomfortable with and she worried as he looked it over. His callused hand rested on the soft swell of her bottom, gripping it roughly. She held steady, afraid to fight him and when he felt his hand on her shoulder she went, resting her palms on her knees.
He was behind her, opening her cheeks and peering at what he saw there. She blushed deeply when she realized how she must look. No man had ever taken such liberties with her. In all her years she had always been the one in control. Men catered to her, not ordered her around as he did. If it were any other man she would yell, scream and fight. With this man something within her told her to do as told. She didn't want to upset him. Throughout it all she noticed a deep desire to please, something she'd never before felt.
He hummed to himself, as if considering her body. An insolent finger prodded at her back passage. "You're very tight."
What could she say to that? Her mind searched for an answer that didn't sound silly, or egotistical, or out of place. Nothing came to mind. Her head dropped beneath her shoulders.
He released her flesh with a playful slap on her rump and stepped back. "I just hope not too tight." There was movement and when she cautiously looked over she saw him naked from the waist down. His body was even more appealing than she'd remembered, muscular legs covered in lean muscle, the thickened shaft of his cock protruding from the center of his fist. He angled it towards her, poking it into the heat of her crack.
"Wait," she begged, turned and dropped to her knees. There was a time last night when she woke up dreaming of this, of holding his cock in his hand, feeling the warm flesh fill her tiny palm but now it seemed too much. It had a presence about it, apart from him that she could not deny. It was the epitome of his masculinity and underlined how he carried himself. It was as if his actions were a reflection of what he hid in his pants. Every women he met, every one that passed him on the street and admired the confident way he held himself would suspect the proud member hidden from view.
She approached it humbly and regarded it at eye level. Heer position on her knees seemed appropriate at such a time. All she wanted to do was soothe and please it. It rested on her chin now, it's length sliding across her lips and up her cheek. "May I?" She asked, her eyes pleading for his approval.
He didn't say a word, just reached down and placed a finger on her chin. A slight pressure opened her lips and the smooth skin of the bulb of his cock passed over them. She traced the underside, along his frenulum. He had a warm, fresh taste that she enjoyed. As her tongue passed over the slit at the top she heard him groan an unrestrained sound of pleasure that came from deep within him. His testicles were heavy against her face. She nuzzled them happily, her cheeks rubbing against the smooth soft skin. They felt full and she wondered how long it had been since they emptied. Surely a man like him would have a desire to release more than the typical lover. A man like him would have a powerful need in accordance with the rest of him.
She wondered how her preferred to orgasm. Did the tender touch of a gentle woman please him or the warm lips and wet tongue? Did he save his yield for her soft center, bursting forth as he mounted and conquered her, as was his nature?
His hand was on the back of her head. Normally she would fight such a thing but from him it felt comfortable and protective. He didn't force her, didn't hurt her. He was loving and kind.
His length pressed the back of her throat, causing her to gag. A tear formed at the corner of her eye but she fought back her natural instinct. She wanted to please this man more than any other. If she had to debase herself and hurt to make him happy she would gladly do it.
He seemed to enjoy it, which caused a great swell of pride she could feel within her chest. With his thumbs tracing slow circles on her cheeks and his fingers cradling her chin, he began gently pressing into her. His movements were soft and slow but still she found herself gasping to accommodate him. His cock was thick but the smooth skin of his shaft against her tongue excited her.
Rather than lay back thankful for the attention as most men are, he took control. Holding her head in his cupped hand, he began to vigorously fuck her mouth. A hand at the back of her head held her steady and she relented, allowing herself to be used this way to please him. Blushing at the sounds, she slurped and sucked to keep up with the motion. A string of thick saliva drooled down her lip to her chin where it collected and fell to the floor. The image shamed her.
Usually she was more feminine and would never dream of acting so slutty. Only when she realized it was his decision and out of her hands did she take slight comfort in it. Under any other circumstances she would never let a man use her so. She prided herself on her femininity, her grace and reserve. When she was with a man she took the lead easily. It came natural to her. Now, naked and with spread thighs, drool and male juices sliding down her chin, all that was forgotten. He had a confidence, an aura of maleness that affected her. She would cater to him, debase herself, turn into the most craven harlot just to satisfy him.
His orgasm wasn't unannounced. It began suddenly as his thrusts became more fervent. From her position beneath him she could see the bands of muscles in his stomach clench and his body twist as she felt his prick heat in her mouth. The burst of come from his organ flooded her mouth and spilled down the sides. She struggled to swallow but it overpowered her, forcing her to gag. It seemed to reach her nostrils, her entire mouth was drenched with the heavy, thick flavor of male.
Each burst came with a moan of celebration, his cock slowing its pace as it pumped into her. She held steady, her eyes wincing in pain as it hurtled down her throat. She held herself frozen, allowing it entry through whatever means lest her own body rebel against it. As he finished, his cock slipped from between her lips. She sat stunned, listening to his sounds of satisfaction, not unlike those of a man after a full meal.
The urgency in his cock had not diminished. Even now it remained full but seemed thicker, it's knob a darker, more threatening color. She felt cowed by it. What more could she do to give in to this man? Her lips had turned numb, her mouth sore. Even her face felt the stress of his fitful orgasm. Still his appetite called for more.
There was a moment for her to catch her breath and then she felt his hand on her shoulder lifting her up. She still could not look at him.
"Wait a minute, honey," she begged as she quickly swallowed the last of his release. He didn't allow her a second and pulled her up. Her legs were too shaky to stand but his grip was strong and arranged her as needed. She couldn't find her footing and only felt her body pulled then bent over. Feeling much like a puppet, she feel forward over the end of the bed.
She felt his hands groping her ass and protested weakly. This wasn't supposed to happen on the second date. His hands were strong, callused and held her strong. Against the soft skin of her bottom it felt good. She found herself pressing into him. As she stopped resisting he gripped her cheeks and, with one held tightly in each hand, gently opened her. He was looking at her hole again, though it embarrassed her much less than before.
A gentle, feather like sensation tickled her hole and, with eyes closed, she smiled to herself. He was sizing her up, his finger slowly tracing her tiny hole. There was a heavier pressure then, and she realized his cock, still wanting after his release, was resting on her anus.
"Wait Carl, Hold on..."
His answer came with the clench of his fingers on her bare shoulder. It held her steady, bringing only a slight amount of pain. "Shhhhh," he whispered to her. "This is going to happen. Relax and let me in."
She gawked at him, unable to believe what he wanted. He was too large. She was too small, too tight, she'd never done that before. Would he really do this if she didn't want to? Could she stop him if he did?
His cock never moved. It remained against her hole, urging against her. Her body remained stock still, both from her nervousness and his force against her. Too many thoughts swarmed through her head. She imagined herself running, fighting this man naked against her, this man she barely knew. It screamed out to her, feeling so wrong.
The warm, steady press of his lips against the back of her neck broke her from the stresses of her fears. She was comforted and she responded to it. Each kiss weakened her and she felt her body softening. Her arms splayed in front of her, her legs unlocked and her anus unclenched.
During the deepest of kisses, one placed just below her ear that caused her nipples to tighten, he entered her. He was slow, but forceful enough that it hurt. She cried out slightly before cursing herself for doing so. His length entered her slowly, her hole widening slowly to fit all of him.
Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the sheets and, with her face pressed to the pillow beneath her, she grit her teeth. It took all her effort to fight back the cries pushing themselves out.
Each thrust was steady and pushed her further onto the bed. Despite the pain, she realized he was being more considerate than he was with her mouth. The clench of her jaw caused ache. The stress in her legs caused her thighs to ache. The pressure in her rear, the slow penetration of her ass caused a pain that brought her to tears.
She weeped into the pillow, all the while imagining his cock, so thick and potent, and how much she yearned for it. Even the slightest movement caused her ring to open beyond comfort. It pained her but she fought desperately to hide it.
He was enjoying himself. She heard him huff in pleasure with each pump into her. His hands held the heft of her rear, his strong hands grabbing fistfuls of womanflesh and continued with an urgency. His maleness had taken control and he acted as if conditioned, his need to mount and take his woman overcoming all else.
Unable to contain herself, she cried out. It was a pitiful, high pitched cry that shamed her. It made her feel weak, small and powerless. Carl seemed to delight in it. "There, there now. I know it hurts. Be a good girl for me."
It did hurt, it was more than her small body could take though it made her feel more feminine, more like a woman. She felt owned. She lay there, helpless and conquered, and realized how satisfying it felt. The feel of a man like him, one she hoped to please, penetrating her, spoke to her deepest need as a woman. His cock, the center of his masculinity, opening her and taking her seemed only natural. It made her feel cared for and protected. She felt like a woman. His cock, pleasing itself with her body, at that moment, seemed to be the greatest thing she could ever do.
Still she whined and moaned. His size was more than her body was ever meant to receive. He held her steady, bracing her lest she forget herself and wiggle away. "Don't fight me," he was sure of himself. "It's going to happen. Relax and let me take you."
She did as best she could. She'd always thought anal sex would be uncomfortable and wondered how women could do such a thing. Her friends that did would tell her how it hurt and what it felt like and she would scold them for allowing a man to do such a thing to them. To her it was degrading, the perfect example of a man taking advantage of a woman. Women that did such things were allowing men to take charge while pushing them down. A man should never take the lead in a relationship. That's the woman's job.
All these things passed through her mind as his member slid into her back passage. She thought of what a demeaning act it was and how she'd always swore she would never put herself in that position with a man. Even still, she was enjoying it. She felt herself feeling distinctly loved and cared for by this strong, powerful man.
It became pleasurable. Her resistance was now nothing more than show. She would struggle, cry out and he would hold her, one hand on the back of her neck pinning her to the mattress, the other on her rump, holding her steady while he pumped into her. When he did she swooned, the feeling of being spread open and entered overcoming all. It was a completely feminine feeling that she felt throughout her entire body.