As I knelt between Kimmie’s legs, I’d never seen her look so alive, so breathtakingly beautiful. In that moment, she glowed like a distant star in the deepest stretch of the cosmos, brilliantly bright from afar but utterly consuming up close.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, from that intimate, cum-coated glistening slice of paradise that caught the light like a gemstone. Her scent enveloped me, warm and heady, dissolving every thought until there was nothing left but the pull toward her. I already knew she would taste like ambrosia, sweet and divine, something meant to be worshipped.
Stretching my tongue tentatively toward her, I leaned in reverently, tasting her gently. The sensation was achingly familiar, stirring memories of the quiet moments after our past sessions, when I’d performed cleanup duty for her and we’d lingered together in that soft afterglow of that ritual had felt like enough. Those moments had grown fewer over the last year, thinning like fading starlight, as her attention slowly drifted away from Pat toward Patty.
Her voice became my beacon, that steady signal through the darkness, guiding me in, pulling me deeper into her orbit. There was no escaping her gravity, no resisting the need to please her. I wanted the feel her heat, the inevitable burn of entering her atmosphere. Confidence and strength flowed from her like starlight, everything I lacked, everything I adored about her. Kneeling there wasn’t submission. It was devotion.
My hands settled against her thighs, not to claim her, I couldn’t, but to steady myself, as if I were bracing against something holy. Even the smallest touch felt electric, like licking a 9V battery.
Running her fingers through my hair, she exhaled softly above me, and that sound alone caused my clitty to leak.
I followed her the way a compass follows north, the way tides follow the moon, helpless, inevitable. Every breath, every slow movement became an offering. I wasn’t thinking anymore. Thinking meant distance. This was something deeper than thought.
I wanted to disappear into her warmth, to lose the edges of myself entirely, to be nothing but the sensation of pleasing her.
Because when she looked down at me, I felt chosen. And that was everything.
I began slowly, savoring her with careful, deliberate devotion, as if each taste were an offering. But the more I gave, the more I needed, until every restraint slipped away. She tensed beneath me, and another shivering release emerged from her depths. Yes… feed me. The words echoed in my mind, and I could barely hold back. Patience dissolved entirely, and soon I moved with breathless fervor, driven only by the single, consuming need to please her.
She arched above me, like a queen acknowledging her devoted subject. Heat radiated off her as if I was nearing the center of her universe, pulling me deeper into her orbit. Each breath she let out was a command, I was powerless to resist. Now, consumed in her gravity entirely…. every thought, any hesitation stripped away, total devotion was the only remnant.
I traced her curves with my lips and tongue, worshiping her because she was the center of my universe. The scent of her, the taste of her, the subtle shivers that ran through her were an intoxicating combination and was something holy. I didn’t just want her. I needed to honor her, to exist entirely in the act of pleasing her, to burn up in her gravity and let myself be consumed.
Her hands found my hair, guiding me closer, holding me like I belonged there, like I was meant to be kneeling at her feet, and I did. And in that simple touch, she gave me the ultimate permission, the ultimate blessing. I was hers, utterly, completely, and that thought alone caused a creamy gush from my clipped clitty, a worshipful offering of everything I had to give for the moment.
Her fingers tightened in my hair, gentle but insistent, and a shiver ran through me at her touch. Breathlessly, she blurted out, “Patty… you’ve never been so good. Good girl, good girl.”
Her words washed over me like sunlight breaking through the void. My chest swelled with something closer to worship than desire, the need to live up to her praise.
Sinking lower, I pressed myself hard against her slit, drinking in her scent and the last remnants of cum from her glorious pussy. The moment felt infinite, as time itself bent around her celestial gravity. Every nerve, every pulse, every breath of mine existed solely to honor her womanhood in any way she desired.
Affirming my efforts, Kimmie’s words made my universe collapse inward until only one immutable truth remained: I belonged here, at her feet, devoted completely, utterly and without question to her desires.
Then she spoke again, her voice soft but with a sense of subtle command.
“Patty… since you’ve been such a good girl, you need to show Dr. Feiler some affection. See how much he’s enjoyed the job you’ve done for me.”
I turned at the sound of his name.
Dr. Feiler stood nearby, watching, his desire unmistakable his rigid cock the predominant feature of his posture. The effect of what I’d done, what she’d allowed me to do, stood like an unmistakable, directional signpost of the task that awaited me.
The sight pulled me out of her pleasure and into my own. This wasn’t about me.
It was about service and about obedience.
She had given me permission to switch my worship from her sacred slit to his throbbing cock with her blessing. From worshipping her warmth to tending to his need.
Not a replacement. Never that but an extension.
As if tending to him were simply another way of honoring her… another offering laid at her feet.
And somehow, that made it sacred too.
Kimmie pushed herself upright and settled on the edge of the bed, watching us with calm, quiet authority, like a queen observing her obedient courtier. There was no jealousy in her expression, no doubt… only possession.
Total control.
“Dr. Feiler,” she asked softly, her voice smooth as silk, “would you like me to get her ready for you?”
My breath caught.
Even now, it wasn’t my choice.
It was hers. It’s always hers.
And the thought sent a warm pulse through me, deeper than desire. It was something closer to gratitude, as I awaited her next command.
“Patty… stand up,” she said gently.
The softness in her voice somehow carried more authority than a shout ever could.
I rose at once.
“Let’s get you out of those clothes and show Dr. Feiler what a lovely girl you’ve become.”
Her words wrapped around me like warm hands. Not exposure. Not humiliation.
Presentation.
Like I was something she’d shaped herself, which she had,… something she was proud to reveal.
My fingers moved automatically, clumsy at first, then steadier, guided by the quiet certainty in her gaze. Each layer I shed felt less like undressing and more like peeling off layers of myself aside until nothing remained between me and her will except what she had made of me… her creation.
Patty.
I stood there, naked and trembling, not from shame but from the weight of being truly seen.
Offered.
Displayed not for my own sake… but for hers.
Because if she wanted me admired, then being admired became another form of devotion.
And I held her eyes the entire time, waiting for that next small nod, that next whispered instruction… ready to follow wherever her gravity pulled me.
Dr. Feiler let out a slow breath.
“Patty…” he said, amazement rippling through his voice, “you’re a lovely girl. And with a little work… you could be even more beautiful.”
His words felt like praise filtered through her to her creation. Approval that I’d earned on her behalf.
Because none of this was mine, any beauty he saw, any desire he felt, belonged to Kimmie first. I was just the reflection of her touch, her shaping hands, her design, her ownership.
I didn’t look at him, even though I wanted to.
Instead, I kept my eyes on her waiting for permission, for instruction.
For the next step in my becoming… my quiet coming‑out ritual into whom she had crafted.
Her gaze swept over me slowly, appraising, proud. Not jealous. Never uncertain.
Possessive.
“Patty…” she said softly, her voice rich with that familiar sensual authority I knew so well, the tone she used when she wanted me to mirror her exactly. “Kneel in front of Dr. Feiler and show him how my girl shows her appreciation.”
My girl.
Those two words melted whatever minuscule semblance of manhood I had left, dissolving it like vinegar and baking soda.
Not a command barked out.
A claim…, a blessing.
My knees bent before I consciously chose to move, lowering myself with deliberate care, like approaching an altar once more, ready to worship his cock. Every motion felt ceremonial, practiced, trained for this that she embedded in my psyche with the sissy porn we had watched together until obedience was guaranteed and felt as natural as breathing.
Not for him, but for her.
It’s always for her because pleasing him wasn’t about desire.
It was devotion. Proof that I belonged to Kimmie.
That everything I was came from her shaping hands, every movement, every offering.
As I settled into place, heart pounding, I felt her warm presence behind me like the sun. It was warm, watchful, guiding. Her gravity and authority steady and absolute. I wasn’t acting alone. I was reflecting her, like starlight reflecting from a placid lake, waiting to see how beautifully I could carry out her will.
I sensed her lean closer.
“Easy,” Kimmie murmured, her voice velvet-soft against my ear. “Take your time… show him how gentle my girl can be.”
My hand drifted forward, tentative at first, then surer, cradling his nuts with the same care I might give a fragile, precious jewel. The warmth of them met my palm. They were soft and heavy larger than what I had possessed. Full of cum, no doubt but still vulnerable. Holding him as if entrusted to me, something not to claim, only to tend.
Even the smallest details struck me… the shaven smoothness of his skin, the deliberate neatness of him, as though he too had prepared for this moment. For her approval. For this ritual.
I felt her breath wisp across my ear as she leaned closer, her voice barely audible.
“Slowly,” she murmured. “Take care of him… like you did for me. Show him how devoted you are. Lick ’em, suck ’em until they’re dripping with your adoration. I know you want his huge load.”
I took my time, exploring, savoring the quiet sounds he made and Kimmie’s gentle encouragement, letting the moment stretch and deepen until there was nothing in the world but breath, warmth, and the slow, steady rhythm of my devotion.
While I lost myself in that tender pleasure, his body hovered close, the heat of his cock resting against my forehead, grounding me in the moment. The air carried a heady, intimate scent… salt, skin, cum and the fading trace of Kimmie’s earlier climax… blending together until it felt dizzying, overwhelming. My own body answered without permission, a steady stream of precum pooling from my clipped, clitty lips.
here was no rush anymore—only sensation, closeness, and the quiet surrender to everything we were sharing.
When Dr. Feiler’s body tightened and began to move with a restless pulse, throbbing and bouncing, I sensed the shift immediately an unspoken need. The air between us felt heavier, charged. Lifting my gaze, meeting him there, and let my tongue return slowly, deliberately to his hard, thick cock, as if answering a silent call.
Kimmie’s soft encouragement drifted over me like warm silk, guiding rather than commanding, “Lick it all over then suck it for me.”
I leaned in again, attentive, devoted, letting my care speak for me. Every movement slowed, deliberate, meant to deliver maximum pleasure to Dr. Feiler. I wanted him trembling. I wanted her watching. Wanted her proud of how completely I gave myself to her wishes.
Slipping his cock into my mouth, it was like I’d found a missing piece of me. It felt so right. Filling me completely. I could feel my saliva glands gushing with a Pavlovian response.
Something inside me clicked into place—like I’d stepped into a role I’d been meant for all along. The warmth, the intimacy, the closeness of him filled my senses until there was room for nothing else.
Behind me, Kimmie shifted, and I could almost hear the smile in her voice.
“Do you like how this feels?” she asked softly.
I nodded first, then managed a muffled, breathless, “Uh-huh,” my answer more sensation than word.
Her fingers slid lightly through my hair, possessive, guiding. “Tell me,” she murmured. “What do you like about it?”
I pulled back just enough to breathe, my voice shaky, flushed with heat.
“How it feels in my mouth… how it fills me… how it throbs for me… how it tastes. I can feel everything. I love everything about this.”
The confession left me trembling.
Kimmie’s quiet approval behind me was overwhelming. Knowing she was watching, that this was for her, made the moment exponentially hotter with every sensation heightened to their utmost.
Cradling his nuts, I felt his tension build beneath my fingers, the subtle shift that warned of what was coming, followed by the precum ooze and several blast that flooded my mouth. Gulping him down like a desert wander at an oasis, I savored every drop of my reward.
But it was Kimmie’s touch that undid me.
Her hand slid over my back, slow and affectionate, a gentle pat that felt more rewarding than anything else.
“Oh, Patty,” she said softly, pride warming every syllable. “You were wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”
Then her tone shifted—still soft, but edged with command.
“Good girl,” she murmured near my ear, her breath warm against my skin. “Don’t stop. Show him how eager you are. Get him hard again.”
I obeyed, moving slowly, patiently, letting my attention drift over him until I felt his body respond. It only took a few minutes before his breathing deepened and that familiar hardness returned.
When he seemed satisfied, Dr. Feiler straightened and gestured toward the bed.
“Patty, lie down. I want to look you over.”
Kimmie’s voice softened the command. “Face up, sweetie.”
I stretched out on the sheets, suddenly aware of every inch of bare skin, every place the air touched. The only thing I wore was the Fufu clip, and somehow that made me feel even more exposed, like there was nothing left to hide behind.
His gaze traveled slowly over me—measured, clinical, almost thoughtful. Not lustful exactly… assessing. As if he were studying a sculpture for imperfections. His hand drifted to his chin, considering.
“Patty,” he said at last, his voice low with consideration, “that clip… it smooths everything away. You really look like a woman down there.”
The words sent a strange shiver through me—part pride, part vulnerability. I lay still beneath his gaze, feeling more displayed than I ever had, waiting for whatever he decided would come next.
His hand drifted idly over me, curious, almost fascinated rather than hurried.
“I can’t believe how realistic it looks,” he murmured, studying me like a work of art. “It’s… so convincing. Looks like you have labia lips.”
Heat crept up my neck at the scrutiny.
“And her nipples?” he asked, glancing toward Kimmie.
Kimmie answered easily, a quiet, possessive pride in her voice. “We train them daily with clamps, extenders and discipline, a little patience. Patty’s are nearly as long as mine now.” She smiled faintly. “And incredibly sensitive.”
Dr. Feiler stepped closer, his gaze lingering on me with open appraisal. “I can see how wet you are,” he murmured, his tone low and satisfied. “It’s like being with a real woman.”
The words gave me a satisfaction of all the work we’d done.
He brushed his cock slowly against the wetness between my thighs, using the slickness to wet his head, deliberate and unhurried. Then his hands slid beneath my legs, strong and certain, lifting them until my knees rested over his shoulders.
My breath caught. I knew exactly what was coming.
And the aching anticipation pooling low in my belly told me how badly I wanted it.
He teased me with several strokes against my aching opening. I’d taken objects bigger than Dr. Feiler, however the thought of a real one entering me made my stomach flutter.
He moved slowly, deliberately, teasing me with his cock’s head rubbing against my aching cunt, each brush sending sparks up my spine. The light pressure at my entrance made me tremble, my hips betraying me with the smallest, needy shift forward.
I’d handled toys bigger than him—things thicker, colder, impersonal.
They filled space, nothing more. Tools. Practice. Sensation without presence.
But this was different. This was real.
The heat of him. The solid weight. The faint hitch in his breath that matched my own, like we were already moving together without touching at all.
He wasn’t just that pressure. He was alive.
The closeness of it made my stomach flutter, nerves and want tangling tight inside me. A small, helpless sound slipped from my throat before I could swallow it back, my body answering for me long before my mind could pretend restraint.
Then his hands moved.
His fingers found my nipples, began to twist and pull them lightly between his fingers. The sudden pressure sent a sharp spark straight through me.
I gasped.
The sensation was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once. I was in heat as my back arched without permission. A low moan slipped free, soft and needy, I began unraveling strand by strand beneath each twist.
“Patty,” he murmured, his voice close to my ear, warm and coaxing. “Tell me what you want.”
The question should have embarrassed me.
It didn’t.
“I… want your cock… ” I breathed, the words trembling as they left me. “Inside me. Please… fuck me. Don’t make me wait.”
He drew closer, his body lining up with mine, heat pressing against me. The first pressure of him stole the air from my lungs. Then a deeper, undeniable joining!
A sudden stretch. A breathless catch.
I cried out, the sound loud and raw, more surprise and intensity than pain.
It wasn’t sharp like I’d feared. It was filling.
Overwhelming.
Like crossing a line I could never uncross. My fingers clenched in the sheets as sensation rushed through me in waves, my body instinctively yielding, opening, eagerly accepting all of his cock.
Kimmie stepped nearer.
She nodded slowly, satisfaction glowing in her eyes.
“Patty,” she said softly, almost tenderly, “this is your first man. Your first time… but not your last.”
Her fingertips brushed my cheek, guiding my gaze to hers.
“How does it feel,” she whispered, “to finally give yourself over?”
The question dissolved any remaining doubt because this wasn’t something being taken. I had offered it.
For her – always for her.
The warmth began spreading through me…, physically, emotionally, completely…, then, without warning, my clitty erupted from his cock’s onslaught.
Kimmie brushed the hair from my eyes, smiled knowingly because I was exactly what she’d shaped me to be.
And when I reached for her hand instead of his, clinging to her approval like air, I understood… this wasn’t just my first man.
He was simply the first gift of many I would give.
FIN
