When I drove Gwendolyn home that evening, she was quieter than usual. She turned to me when I parked in her driveway.
“Did you like wearing my pussy juice?”
“Yes, it was a constant reminder of how delicious you are.” The smell had pretty much worn away by then. “I also felt like I was marked by you. Like people could tell I belonged to you. Like that girl in the library.”
She smiled. “That’s exactly what I wanted!” she said. “Only it wasn’t enough. Hardly anybody noticed.” She paused, looking deep into my eyes, capturing me. “I want everyone to know that you’re mine, that you belong to me.”
“I could walk three paces behind you, like a slave in ancient Rome,” I joked. Was I joking? Because my cock swelled as I said it.
“Like a slave,” Gwendolyn repeated. “Do you want to be my slave?” she asked softly, watching my eyes.
“I feel like I already am,” I said.
She laughed. “Really?”
“Well, pretty much,” I said, wondering why she found it funny. “I do everything you want, everything you say. Isn’t that the same thing?”
She smiled sweetly. “No. You are my very good and obedient boy, yes, and I’m very proud of you. But you still have your own life and your own possessions. You make your own decisions about a lot of stuff. Slavery is not like that.”
“Oh,” I said. “I worship you. Isn’t that enough?”
“Yes, of course. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted.” She leaned in for a kiss. “See you in the morning!” She patted my thigh and exited the car. I watched her until she disappeared behind her closed door.
I couldn’t help wondering if she was beginning to want more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next morning, after our run, Gwendolyn watched me undress on the landing before leading me into her room by my erection. She made me wait while she drank her glass of water. Then she told me to undress her.
She managed in her mysterious way to assist my efforts without diminishing her authority in the least. She raised her arms over her head so I could pull her tee-shirt off. My heart raced as her sweaty breasts and armpits were revealed to my hungry eyes. Her hair bounced free and I breathed in her glorious scent before kneeling to untie her shoes.
I was tempted to kiss her feet as they were bared to me, but I stayed on task and on my knees, reaching up to pull her shorts down along with her underpants. I held them as she stepped out of them, graceful and regal as a ballerina.
I looked up at her eagerly, holding her pants open in my hands.
“You can smell them if you want,” she allowed, reading my mind.
I held the gusset of her panties to my nose, and breathed her sweet musk into my soul, setting my heart and my cock aflutter.
“You can worship me now,” she said. This time she allowed me to make my own liturgy.
I bowed down to kiss her feet first. Then I stood and bent my face to her chest. I licked the drying sweat between her breasts and under them before applying my tongue to their higher slopes and to her lovely pointed nipples. I latched onto each nipple in turn, sucking hungrily and eliciting her sweet, sharp intakes of breath.
She wrapped her arms around my head, allowing the deep rich aroma of her underarms to beckon me and I served them both with my lips and tongue, as my hunger for her most personal flavors grew.
I dropped back to my knees and nosed between her thighs for the sweetest prize. She spread her legs and thrust her pelvis forward graciously to permit entrance to my questing tongue. Her folds parted for me to taste the silk and the nectar I craved. But I needed something else first.
With my hands on the back of her thighs, I tipped my head back to look up to her face.
“Gwendolyn? May I have my drink now?” I petitioned reverently.
“Yes,” she said, smiling down on me. “It’s important to stay hydrated.” She took me by the cock into the shower stall, where I knelt once again to receive her urine. I swallowed rapidly as she peed in my mouth, quenching only my thirst, not my fierce desire.
When her pee trickled to a stop, I licked the droplets off her lips and the residue between them, making her pussy clean. Then I applied my mouth and tongue with every ounce of strength and technique I possessed to bring her to a crashing orgasm. I lashed her clit and flailed at her silken depths, probing and stabbing, flitting and fluttering her swollen bud, grazing it and her lips with my teeth, all while sucking and savoring the sweet, tangy flood of liquid lady-lube that my efforts rewarded me with, the delicious, refreshing chaser to her royal piss.
When she came, she dropped to her knees, still holding my head in her hands and kissed me full on the lips. I couldn’t have been happier if I had cum.
We showered together, washing each other like we had the day before. Gwendolyn enjoyed teasing my rock-hard erection. “No coming for you today,” she said wickedly.
Over breakfast, we compared schedules and made plans for the day. It was Friday; we both had nine o’clock classes. On the drive to campus, I filled her in on my conversation with my roommate.
“Darius thinks I’m a real stud now,” I told her.
Gwendolyn laughed happily. “Really? That’s great! What did he say?”
“He said that when he met you he thought you were really pretty. He sounded like he thought you were out of my league. So he was impressed that I could get a girl like you. And I think he could tell we had sex – well, it still smelled like it and he was already there when I got back. Anyway, he said, ‘You just met her yesterday, right?’ and something about moving fast. I didn’t tell him that I was only following orders.” I grinned.
Gwendolyn laughed again. “Wouldn’t he be surprised!”
“I thought about telling him,” I confessed. “I’m so proud of you. Being your boyfriend means everything to me. I love worshiping you too… and obeying you. I don’t care if people know.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m really horny right now,” Gwendolyn whispered in my ear.
That was welcome news. We had just arrived at her driveway after a long day at school. I was horny too.
“At least you had an orgasm this morning,” I said.
She slipped her hand onto my lap and traced the outline of my stiff member. “Ooh,” she breathed when it came alive, straining and twitching responsively.
“Tell me, Mike,” she said, seemingly seriously curious, “Do you like sporting wood all day for me?” She looked up at me innocently.
If she weren’t so fucking cute, teasing me like that – if anyone else had asked that – I would have devastated her with withering sarcasm. But the truth was, that I totally loved it, which I hadn’t realized until I said it. How and why was hard to say, but “I love being hard for you all the time,” wasn’t.
She gave one of her proprietary squeezes and said, “Good!” and smiled. “I think we’re going to make you wait a lot longer before you get to cum.”
“Why?” I asked plaintively. I was surprised as well as hugely disappointed, having assumed that orgasmic release was in the offing for both of us this evening. I was puzzled; why had she told me she was so horny?
“Is this one of your experiments?” I asked. “Is it another test?”
She patted my thigh. “Let’s go upstairs.” She moved to open her door. “It’ll be fun!”
I undressed on the landing and waited for her to open the door and lead me in. She had put on a short, sheer pink chiffon nightgown, like a dream. It was so transparent that, rather than hide her charms, it magnified them, enveloping her torso in an alluring haze, more naked than nakedness alone. It revealed secrets of her lithe form as she moved, highlighting her dark nipples and all her perfect curves.
I must have stood there gawking like a fool, because she had to tug on my stiff cock to get me moving.
“Sit there,” she said, indicating the chair she had moved to the other side of the bed, facing it.
I sat my naked butt down on the hard painted seat.
“I’m going to masturbate and let you watch!” she said, as if awarding me a valuable prize. She pressed a key on her laptop, open on the desk, and climbed onto the bed, settling back on the pillows propped against the headboard.
The volume was low, but obscene, drawing my attention away from Gwendolyn’s parted thighs. The moaning and groaning was accompanied by a graphic closeup of an ass being fucked. An enormous cock pulled out of a gaping asshole, all the way out to display the full size of it – it looked way too big to fit – and then it slipped right back in to be met by another wanton groan.
“Do you like gay porn?” Gwendolyn asked, bringing my eyes back to her and to her swollen pussy, open to my sight between her raised knees. Her right hand was resting on her mound with a finger delicately tracing tiny circles around her clit.
“I love it!” she purred, dipping her digit lower, parting her dewy lips.
I stared at her juicy cunt as it began to leak. I could almost smell its familiar scent. My hand went automatically to my twitching cock.
“You can masturbate too,” she allowed, “but remember: you can’t cum.” Her eyes immediately returned to the screen.
I removed my hand. My cock was too excited. I watched her as she pleasured herself. My eyes drowned in her beauty, the porn forgotten. I watched the hot rosy flush of her swollen lips as they parted, like a flower in bloom, and I got a glimpse of her dark gape, shiny with slick, before her finger eased in gently, wetly. Now I could smell her. My favorite smell in all the world.
My salivary glands were as excited as my glans penis; I could almost taste her. I breathed deeply while I watched Gwendolyn stir herself up. A wet squishy rhythm of fingers and cunt. She arched her back and moaned. A master work of wanton beauty. Her eyes closed as she threw her head back.
She stopped stirring and leveled her head. Her body tensed. Slapping sounds of flesh on flesh came from the laptop. She opened her eyes; she stared into mine. I held my breath. She groaned and her body convulsed, her hips bucked, legs straight, arms flailing.
“Ohhhh…” she sang, and then relaxed completely, limp and panting.
Her breathing and the tinny sounds of fucking from the laptop and the pounding of my heart was all there was to fill the space between us, except for the air itself, redolent with pussy juice, Gwendolyn’s own special sauce.
I lightly touched my frenum; my cock jumped.
Gwendolyn smiled at me and stretched out her hand. “Look, how wet,” she said. “Come and taste it.”
I knelt by the bed and licked her hand clean, tasting the silky slick of her sex juice.
“It’s so nice to have a boy to clean up when you make a mess” she said dreamily. She withdrew her hand and pointed to her mound.
“Look, Mike. See what a mess I made? Will you clean it up for me?”
I climbed onto the bed between her thighs. She raised her knees again and I leaned in to kiss, placing my lips on hers, drenched in fragrant girl-cum.
I was in my happy place. Literally. There was no place I’d rather be. The thought came to me as I breathed in Gwendolyn’s bouquet and I kissed her soft inner thighs, nibbling gently as if my teeth might scrape away the film of residue where her juices had dried. Starting with a delicate appetizer would make it a feast to remember. The hearty, soupy stew of the main course could wait.
My teeth tickled her, teased her. I swabbed by tongue over the tender skin up into the crease where her thigh meets her outer lips. I washed all around her vulva, every inch yielding up the rich flavor I had learned to crave. No need to hurry, no reason to rush into the source, where awaited vast riches of liquid delight. I was already transported.
Did she know that it was not cleaning, but worship?
She sighed, relaxing, patient with my slow, but thorough progress.
Maybe she was watching the screen or maybe it was my dexterous tongue, as I began to dip between her folds to scoop out her pooled nectar, but the wet became wetter. My efforts were becoming counterproductive, so I changed my objective. I moved my tongue up and licked her clit. It was out, protruding shamelessly from its shelter, just begging to be assaulted.
“Mmmm,” Gwendolyn reacted. “I think you better stop, Mikey. You don’t get to make me cum. Not tonight.” She shifted back up, higher on the pillows. “Back to your chair and watch.”
I sat. I watched. She started again, this time with her nipples. She pinched them lightly using both hands. They stood out, big, rubbery cylinders begging to be bitten. She began brushing her fingers against them and massaging her pert mounds until a moan escaped her throat. Then she slipped two fingers of her right hand between her nether lips. They sank in deep, unimpeded, with her palm up against her straining bud.
She took her time, evidently enjoying my watching her. She would watch me and then watch the screen. Her eyes were on the screen, watching something that excited her, when they lost focus and she moaned again, a sweet, throaty sound that tugged on my aching heart. The squishy sound of her finger-fucking almost drowned out the low audio. And in midst of accelerating fingering, Gwendolyn came again.
I savored every tremor of her shapely limbs and the ecstatic contortions of her gorgeous face as she shook in sweet abandon. I was transported, all but coming myself!
“Wow!’ she said when she had caught her breath. “That was hot! Did you see it?”
“Yes,” I said. “You were amazing!”
“No, silly!” she laughed. “The porn. Didn’t you see that scene?”
“No, I was watching you,” I said.
She gave me a wry smile. “Don’t you like porn?” she asked.
“Uh… Yeah, sure,” I said, “But I’d rather watch you.” It seemed like a dumb question.
“Aren’t you a sweet boy!” she exclaimed, rearranging herself on the bed.
“Why would I watch a dumb video when I’ve got the sexiest girl in the world right in front of me?”
“But you didn’t cum, did you?”
“No, you said I wasn’t allowed to,” I said defensively.
“That’s right,” she said quickly. “You’re a very good boy!” She beamed at me. “And I’m a very messy girl. Are you ready to clean me up?”
I started between her breasts. She was sweaty. I licked up to her throat and along the hollows of her collar bones. She raised her arms for me and I polished her pits with my customary relish before moving to her navel and points south.
This time I avoided penetration. She was so wet that I was able to sip up lots of tangy, slick girl-juice without poking my tongue inside her, as much as I wanted to. She tilted her hips, allowing me to reach my tongue down underneath, where her pretty pink pucker glistened with her juices. I was beside myself in happiness.
She had indulged my ministrations in silence, but now she spoke. “So good, Mike. I think you deserve a reward.”
She swung her legs to sit on the side of the bed. “Here. Stand up.”
She spread her legs, perched on the edge of the bed, and I stood between them. She took my erection in her right hand. I winced, certain to lose the morsel of control I’d manage to keep. Then she surprised me. But they were her rules to change.
“I want you to cum, Mike,” she said solemnly. “Can you do that for me?”
I came.
Before she had finished speaking, I gushed. I was a geyser, a volcano, something geological, geothermal, primal, epic, global.
She aimed my cock at the biologically functional target of its nature; she made me cum right on her pussy!
Spurt after spurt, ropes and streams and globs of hot, steaming cum plastered her vulva. Her lips were dripping with it, her whole mound was thick with it. I saw it all through a haze of euphoria as I almost passed out!
“Maybe you’d better sit down,” Gwendolyn said, smiling. “Here, get on your knees.” She gave me a gentle tug by the wilting cock, still in her hand.
She let go of it as I sat on my heels between her legs. There was cum on her fingers. She put her hand to my mouth. I licked it clean. The taste, so familiar now, reminded me how much I loved being hers. My cock was hers. And my cum. Hers to feed me.
“I’ve made another mess,” she said humbly. “Please clean me up.”
I bent to my task, my spent cock already awakening to my submissive lust. I licked, scooping and swallowing my copious cum from all over her sacred mound. Her own flavor blended with mine, a concoction I had tasted before, though not as intense. Still, I knew what it portended. I knew what she was doing. Testing me. Training me.
“I’m such a messy girl,” she playfully confessed. “Will you ever get tired of cleaning me up?”
I paused from my ministrations. “No, Gwendolyn, that will never happen. I worship you. Cleaning is worship too.”
“Good boy,” she said dreamily.
I swallowed all my cum. Her vulva was spotless, shiny clean. And Gwendolyn was coming. Again. Sometimes she let me break her rules too. I hadn’t penetrated her inner sanctum, but I had taken liberties with her protruding nub, swollen with the same sweet desire that had made me swell again too.
