Chapter 16

She wiggled in close and put an arm around me. She talked about nothing, asking the occasional question, while she wound down. Every so often she’d reach down and stroke my dick, now only halfway hard, just reminding it that it still had work to do.

Eventually, I got the sense that she was chatting to avoid what she knew was coming. She had asked me, and some part of her was still trying to put it off, out of some fear buried way deep. Her conscious mind was wrestling with her unconscious.

I leaned down and kissed her, more lips than tongue, just to let her know I cared about her. When I pulled away, I said, “We should move on with what you wanted to do before it gets too late. You still want to do this?” I was giving her a chance to step back if it had proved too much to deal with.

She actually thought about it, I could see, but she nodded. “I’ll tell you that it still frightens me a bit, Tom, but I think I have to try this, just to prove something to myself.”

“You have your safe word. Don’t be afraid to use it if it gets to be too much. I won’t judge you, we’ll just stop and perhaps try again some other time, okay?”

“Thanks. Let’s see what happens, how far I can go with this.”

“I thought we might start with the oral, Gail, maybe because it’s less intimidating. All right?”

“All right. Was it okay when I did it to you before, even if I couldn’t go all the way in?”

“Okay? Are you serious? It was fucking amazing, baby. I felt like I was floating a foot off the ground. You know oral’s more than just doing deepthroat, don’t you? You were fantastic. If you couldn’t ever go down deep on me, it would still be fantastic.”

“Thanks, Carter. I’m just a little self-conscious about this, mostly ‘cause other guys have sometimes given me a hard time about not going all the way in.”

“Well, they’re jerks, then. Listen, baby, I know this is important to you, and we can go as slow as you like. I don’t want to do a kind of man-splaining thing here, but there’s a couple of things that might help you and I don’t know if you’ve tried them before. So if it’s something you already know about, just stop me, okay?

“First, make sure you get the dick nice and wet first, lots of saliva to lubricate it. It’s also really hot for a guy to feel his dick getting so wet. It sometimes helps if you lean your head back before trying to take a dick in. It straightens out the throat and might help it to slide in easier.

“And the head back thing is easier to do if you’re on your knees, looking up. Once you’ve tried it in that position it helps you to get used to doing it in other positions.

“It really helps if you can make yourself breathe through your nose, especially if you feel like you’re starting to gag. If you feel like you’re starting to choke, then breathe sharply through the nose a couple of times and it often helps to reduce that choking sensation.

“If you stick out your tongue before you take a dick in, it allows more room for the dick and the throat can expand. And probably easier if you just let the dick slide in rather than trying to actively swallow it.”

“I don’t have first-hand experience with this, but I’ve heard that some women like swallowing a couple of tablespoons of olive oil before they give head, ‘cause it lubricates the throat better. But that’s just hearsay, you’d have to try it to see if it works as promised.”

“Well,” she said, “I’m glad there’s still a little truth in advertising. Okay, let’s see if I’ve got this. So, lots of saliva, head back, tongue out, and ... oh, yeah, breathe through the nose.”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah. Was this stuff you already knew?”

“No, not really. I’d heard of the saliva thing before, but good to have a reminder.”

“Gail, you can stop at any time, use your safe word if you need to. Whatever you do to me feels wonderful, and even if it doesn’t go all the way in it still feels spectacular. This is more for you than me, so only do as much as you’re comfortable with.

“And one more thing, I don’t think we’ve ever talked about it, and I’m a little embarrassed to bring it up but it’s better than having you feel awkward or angry afterwards. How do you feel about guys cumming in your mouth? Is that something you’ve done or want to try?”

“Yes, I’ve done that before. The first time it happened the guy didn’t let me know and it was an unexpected surprise that I didn’t much like at the time, and I let him know, too. But after I thought about it, what it felt like, what it tasted like, I realized my reaction was just that, a surprise I hadn’t been expecting, and I didn’t like surprises like that. But I’m okay with it now.”

“Since we’re being honest with each other here, I’ll just let you know that the thought of cumming in your mouth or your throat makes me a little crazy. Just so’s you know.”

“Should I get out my cattle prod to be safe? Didn’t I mention that I had a cattle prod? It came as part of a matched set, with the barbed whip.” She was messing with me now, letting me know she was nobody’s compliant girlfriend.

“Every time we talk, Gail, I find new depths that surprise me. Let’s hope the prod isn’t required. Why don’t you start just by getting my dick wet and stiff, okay?”

She smirked at me, them mimed poking me with a cattle prod. But then she moved down and took my semi-erect dick in her mouth and ran her tongue around it. Feels great.

She’d already had her gag reflex rewired to give her a rush of pleasure when it pushed at her throat, but now I linkcast the new one I called Spitshine. It would give her, in addition, a wave of contentment and bliss that would leave her feeling happy. Right now I was just preparing for later.

She was bobbing up and down on my dick now, not very deep, but it felt great. And I noticed that she was making an effort to leave a lot of saliva in her wake. It was dribbling down my cock onto my balls, and her hand stroking the shaft was sliding nicely.

“Go a little further down, baby, that feels so good.”

She was unconsciously avoiding it, I could read, but now that I had pointed it out she made the effort and slid it further in her mouth. It was almost at her throat and each time it went in she got a pulse of pleasure that surprised her.

She took her other hand and cupped my balls and I thought I might shout, it felt so good. “Oh, fuck, yes, baby. Use your tongue.”

She’d forgotten that, I could see, and was a little embarrassed, so she started flicking her tongue back and forth on the shaft as she tickled the back of my balls and it was exquisite. I cried out and begged for more.

I was having trouble focusing on her epicenter while she was doing those wonderful things to me, like trying to read a book in a moving car, the words kept skipping out of your focus as the car shook. But I did pick up that she knew exactly what she was doing, and was doing it intentionally just to make me jump. She loved the idea of being in control.

I put a hand on the back of her head, more to reinforce the connection between us, but she took it as a signal to go deeper. Her hidden fears were pushing back now, but she was determined to prove to herself she could do this, so she forced herself down and my cock pushed at the entrance to her throat.

She felt a pulse of pleasure wash over her that made her moan internally. Even though she was still afraid of it in her throat, it felt so good when it got close.

I let her know how good it felt as she pulled off for air, and begged for more. She looked at me as she dropped down on my dick until it once again pushed at her throat. The saliva really was helping, and I could feel it start to slide deeper.

She caught herself and stopped, but not before another shock of pleasure poured over her. She pulled off with a gasp.

“Oh, Christ, Gail, I can’t tell you how good that feels. It’s just magic, baby.”

She was breathing hard now, trying to decide where to go from here.

“Gail, let’s try a different position. I think this one might be fighting you a bit. Get off the bed and kneel down on the floor.”

She looked a little unsure of herself, but she did. She got on her knees on the rug and looked at me. She looked like she might be about to run away and hide.

I stood on the floor beside the bed, facing her. “Okay, baby. You’re in control, I won’t do anything to force you. Let’s try some of the things we talked about. I’m good and wet now, so tilt your head back, open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Put your hands on my hips so you can control me, and let my dick slide in, just a little. If it’s too much, just push me back.”

She looked like she was trying to juggle all these different things in her mind, but she got a handle on it, leaned her head back and opened her mouth. I thought I’d cum right there just looking at her, she was so hot.

I stepped forward a few inches and my dick slid over her hanging tongue into her open mouth, and it felt perfect. Just as I was getting used to it, she pushed back and coughed.

“Sorry,” she said, “try it again.”

A second time sliding my cock over her tongue, watching it disappear into her mouth, and I thought that if I hadn’t had the ejaculation filter set, I would already have cum in her mouth.

This time, she didn’t push back, just held it there. Good for her. I pulled partway out so she could breathe. “That’s incredible, baby, it feels fantastic.”

I put a hand on the back of her head and slid forward again, slowly, until it pushed at her throat and I felt her tighten. “That’s it, baby, now close your lips around it and suck as it slides out. Oh, fuck, yes, like that.”

I wasn’t kidding, it felt so great with her lips wrapped tight around it, her tongue dancing on the shaft, and the suction that I thought I might faint. But she had tensed when I had approached the no-man’s land of her throat, so I channeled some heavy relaxation to her mouth and throat.

She popped off the end of my dick and sucked in some air. “Amazing, Gail. Are you still feeling okay with this?”

She nodded. “I haven’t panicked yet, so that’s a good sign. Let’s go slow.”

She caught the tip of my cock between her lips and got herself positioned, then opened wide and stuck out her tongue as she looked at me. I slid into her mouth again and noticed that I had unconsciously started to moan when I did that.

This time, when I approached her throat, I didn’t feel her begin to constrict, and when I reached the place I had stopped previously, I pushed a little further. I felt the head of my dick push into her throat and heard her make a sound. I stopped my dick there where it was and peeked in her epicenter.

The sound I had heard was a cross between a moan of pleasure and a sigh of contentment as this new feeling washed over her. And underneath it was a childish joy of doing something nice for someone you liked. It surprised her so much that she wasn’t thinking of the dick in her throat.

I was so involved at watching what was happening in her head that I also wasn’t thinking of my dick in her throat, as good as it felt, but eventually I realized that breathing would probably be a good thing, so I slid my cock out.

“Jesus Christ, Gail. Astounding.”

Her face changed now, somehow, the look was different. She grabbed my dick in her fist and pumped it up and down, sliding smoothly over my slick cock.

She looked me in the eye, planted both hands on my butt cheeks, opened her mouth, and slid my dick inside. She was in control now. She slowed down when it got to her throat but she kept pushing, and this time she forced it right into her throat.

I was still reading her, and now she was shouting to herself, “Gotcha, I did it!” She was make a sound in her throat that I assumed was something like exultation because I could feel the bliss and contentment overwhelm her. It was all she could focus on, because it felt so good that she almost couldn’t feel her throat being stretched.

When she finally slipped it out of her mouth she looked at me, a little half-smile that you almost couldn’t see on her face. I just shook my head and grinned at her. I said, “Unbelievable, baby. Un-fucking-believable.”

She smiled in acknowledgement. “I did okay, didn’t I?”

“Okay? Gail, when’s your birthday? I’m gonna buy you a thesaurus. ‘Okay’ is not the word you’re looking for. It’s like saying that was ‘nice’.”

“You want more?”

“Baby, I want you to suck my dick until I shoot my load in your mouth. Then I will fall down in a coma and you may call me an ambulance.”

“Okay, got it, coma, then tell you you’re an ambulance. Here we go.”

If I was reading this correctly, she had pushed her fears down, and they had been replaced by this positive reinforcement of contentment, bliss and a rush just this side of orgasm. I wonder how far she can take this. It’s a big step she just made.

I was about to find out. She sucked the shaft wetly for a few seconds to add more saliva, then leaned her head back and pushed onto my cock. I was amazed, there was almost no hesitation other than the briefest pause as it entered her throat, then she kept going.

She had almost my entire dick inside her, then closed her lips around it and sucked for all she was worth, while I shouted above her.

She looked up at me after she pulled off, as if to ask, “How was that?”

“That was fucking fantastic. I can’t believe you really haven’t done this before. It was perfect.”

“Not that far in, anyway. This is going to take some getting used to, I could never do this before. Maybe it was the thing you suggested, I don’t know. Anyhow, it makes me feel good that I was able to push past my fears and do that. Is there anything I might do differently?”

“It feels about as perfect as I could imagine, so I’m not sure what you might do better. Just as an experiment, try sliding it in and out of your throat, if you think that’s something you could do without hurting yourself.”

“I’ll have to see what it feels like, but I can try.”

I thought it might be time to end this, so I removed the ejaculation filter as she got ready to take my dick again. She had the motion down to a science now, the head leaning back, the mouth opening, and the tongue sticking out as she slid my dick into her mouth.

And with the filter removed, all the sensations whose ‘volume’ had been lowered, came shooting up to their normal levels and I found myself fighting an approaching orgasm. Nothing against orgasms, mind you, just that what she was doing to me felt so goddamn spectacular that I wanted it to continue ad infinitum.

This time, when it slipped into her throat she pulled back so it popped out, then right back down again, so the tip of my dick was sliding in and out of her throat. And to seal my fate, she cupped my balls and tickled the back of them with two fingers. I shouted something, I don’t know what.

With almost no control of my conscious mind I got a last glimpse into her epicenter where I found her happy, content and blissful, surprised at this sensation, feeling so good that it felt almost sinful.

Her tongue, which had been strangely immobile, as if she had forgotten that it was there, suddenly started dancing around the shaft and that sealed my fate.

I know I shouted, because I wanted to make sure that she heard me. “Oh, fuck, yes, baby, here it comes, I’m cumming, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

I hadn’t linkcast myself a specific orgasm scenario. This was as natural as it got, and she made it astounding. I could feel my dick pulsing in her throat as I shot my load. Her one hand was stroking the place at the base of my dick between thumb and forefinger, and the other was still tickling the back of my scrotum.

I felt like my spirit had blown out the top of my head and was shooting around the stratosphere somewhere.

I’m not sure how she held it in her throat for so long, but when she finally pulled off, she gasped desperately for air, gulping it in.

The only speech I was capable of was “Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod.” I thought that encapsulated the idea pretty well. She continued to squeeze my balls as she watched me reciting my mantra and caught her breath.

At some point, when I felt I again had some control of my extremities, I stepped backward and collapsed on the bed, my legs hanging over the edge, saying very quietly, “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck.”

She eventually got up and walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed on. She got a hand on my upper arm and tugged, suggesting that I might want to get all of me on the bed. I found enough strength to do that and lay next to her. All I could do was look at her.

It took several minutes. “Jesus Christ, Gail. Words are inadequate. I had no control over my body. You were operating it and I came so hard I was afraid my legs were going to collapse under me. My soul felt like it was joyriding somewhere out in the Crab Nebula.

“My rational mind wasn’t operating at peak efficiency about then, but it seemed to me that you were almost comfortable with what you were doing. Did I misread that?”

She hesitated while she thought about it. “Maybe comfortable isn’t the right word, but I wasn’t scared of it, I was okay doing it, and it wasn’t really painful or frightening. Maybe with some practice I’ll get comfortable with it. What surprised me was that I felt happy when I had your dick in my throat, that I felt good, like this was the right thing to be doing. Do you know what I mean?”

I knew exactly what she meant, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

“I think so. It didn’t hurt you and it didn’t overwhelm you. That’s about all we can ask from life.”

“Very philosophical, Professor Carter.”

“So do you think you got what you wanted out of this experiment, Gail?”

“Oh, yes. I was a little surprised, but I did. I proved that I could do this, that it didn’t hurt, physically or emotionally, and that my fears were, what? Unfounded? So, yeah, I did.”

“Right. So, just sayin’, but anytime you feel like you have the need to reinforce that conclusion feel free to call me, anytime, day or night. I’ll be here in two minutes, three tops.”

“That’s very selfless of you, Carter, but I’ll make a note just in case. How about we rest for a while, see how we feel later. You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”

“No, I’m easy. And rest sounds really good right about now.”

So we rested. I kept my eyes open for a good minute, minute and a half, then I was out like a light.

I felt her get up and later the toilet flushed. She crawled back in next to me and took my hand. When I awoke again she was up on one elbow, watching me.

“I feel uncomfortably like a laboratory specimen under a microscope.”

“The dissection will be almost painless, I’m sure. Just watching you, Carter, trying to get my life sorted and to understand things.”

“I thought you’d already done that, had a life plan in place. Become a famous art historian, win the Boston Marathon, become rich and famous with a series of bestselling books, get married and have two point five kids, and finally die, mourned by all who knew you. Did I forget something?”

“Well, that’s the general plan, it’s the petty details that are the annoying part. Here’s one. Why is it that I always react differently with you? Sex-wise, I mean. Every other guy who’s talked me into giving him head, I choke and gag, can’t wait till it’s over. Every other guy who plays with my butt or tries to stick something in it, I’m about ready to beat them senseless with a fireplace poker.

“Except for you. Instead of gagging with a dick in my mouth, I’m about ready to cum. You push into my throat and I don’t have the urge to vomit, I feel like I’m ready to belt out Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus, completely happy and relaxed. I don’t understand it.”

She was a smart woman, and understood her own feelings, her own reactions. She was bothered by this dichotomy, the difference in the way she responds to me and to others. I didn’t want her to be worried about me, to perhaps decide that there was something off about the way she interacted with me.

“Tell me about the worst date you ever had,” I said.

“Huh? Why?”

“Humor me for a minute. Tell me.”

“This is weird, but okay, Carter. Last year. I was a freshman, and for the first time I felt like I wasn’t the school weirdo, unable to fit in anywhere because I liked art and disliked basketball and football.

So this guy from one of my classes who I’d been introduced to asks me out. Wasn’t that good looking, but maybe he was smart or funny -- I hadn’t really talked to him that much. So he takes me out for dinner, then a play afterwards. And during dinner he starts asking me about what I liked, what music I listened to, if I was religious, y’know, first date kind of questions.

“And it was like whatever I said, he had to contradict it, or tell me what was wrong with my opinion. He criticized what I ordered for dinner, even, said it wasn’t ‘healthy’ enough.

“And when we went to the play, he whispered into my ear the whole time, criticizing the actors, the playwright, the theater.

“When it was finally, thank God, over, and he drove me home, he wanted to come up and talk some more, because, he said, we got along so well.

“I wasn’t halfway through the evening before I’d gotten the ‘creep’ feeling from him. So that was my worst date.”

“That sounds pretty awful. Have you gone out with guys who are more pleasant, but there’s just no buzz, no connection?”

“Sure. Most of them, in fact.”

“I’m guessing there were some guys where you’ve felt like there was some commonality, some shared interests. If you wound up in bed, was the sex any better because you shared some interests?”

“No, I don’t think so. Where are you going with this, Tom?”

“I think that I’m trying to suggest that for the first time you’ve felt a connection with someone and that you’re responding differently. It’s guesswork, mostly because I’m thinking you haven’t been in a relationship with someone with whom you shared a strong intellectual and emotional bond. Is that true?”

She thought it over. “I suppose it is. When I’ve had sex before, it’s been more of a convenience thing, maybe I was physically attracted to someone, or I was horny and decided to pick somebody up and bring them home. But, yeah, I’ve never had sex with someone I shared an emotional bond with. Wait, are you saying I have that with you?”

“That’d be a little presumptuous of me. I’m saying we have some kind of intellectual connection, we share a sense of humor, there’s a powerful physical attraction, and maybe a growing emotional connection, too. I don’t know about you, but those things draw me to another person, I feel like I’m linked to them in some manner. And that gets amplified in some way when we’re having sex.”

She dropped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. I could almost see her brain chugging away, working through the problem.

“All I can say,” she told me finally, “is that it’s possible. I’m not sure about it, but if it were true it would explain some of how I react.”

“You don’t dislike this feeling, do you?”

“No, of course not, it’s just ... different from the way I’ve felt before.”

“And you want to understand it because ... Well, I don’t know why. Why do you feel the need to understand it?”

“Because ... I just do. I’ve always tried to figure myself out, it helps me deal with the world I live in if I can figure out why I respond to something in a particular way.”

“You’re self-analytical. That’s marvelous, really. I wish I could do it. But it’s possible that this need to understand everything may be keeping you from living your life in the moment, from being spontaneous. Wait, that sounds more critical than I meant.

“What I mean to say is that maybe you don’t need to analyze everything at the time that it occurs, that it might be useful to let things work themselves out a little before you bring in the heavy-duty self-analysis tools.”