Fast learner

The virgin loves sex. Like most young men, I've had to break him of some bad habits he's learned from seeing porn on the Internet. It made me glad to find this site by Cindy Gallop (I bet she does). The New York Times also did an article in the Style section about this cougar. I'm doing my modest part.

The good: He's very eager to learn. So as his stamina has increased, I've taught him tricks such as "riding high" in the missionary position, which lets him apply more pressure on a woman's clitoris. And to swivel his hips when he puts my ankles over his shoulders or takes me from behind. He's become very good at cunnilingus and I reward him with feather blowjobs that make him get very loud. He's a legs man who loves for me to wrap mine around him and run them up and down his back and the backs of his legs. I've taught him how to suck my nipples (hard) while cautioning him that not every woman likes that.

We can go five times in a night. He's very sweet and loving, so teaching him not to pull out immediately and to hold me is easy. And the come...OMG. He's got the strongest stream I've ever encountered and can deliver a big load down my throat even after he's come in my a couple of times. He likes women, a big asset. He's smart and funny.

We fucked most of last weekend. Then I had a Sunday date with another man in my life, who gave me yet more good sex. Monday morning, I was pooped and (nicely) sore.

The not-so-good: I've already had the "Don't fall in love with me talk" and he says he's ok with that. But I'm not sure his heart with hear his intellect. So this may come to tears. In the meantime, I am trying to up his social skills and (hidden) charm so he can leave the sex nest and find women his age. It will be tough. When I was that age, I probably wouldn't have been interested in him. But I was a stupid girl, as some are, taken in by shallow things. And plenty of young studs are lousy lovers. In the meantime, we'll keep going.

Half of my threesome

A few days later I got another invitation to be with my new friends, Robin and James. If I didn't need an additional incentive, I was feeling my period coming on. That's the time of the month when I am frantically, insatiably, recklessly horny. Same hotel, same room. James met me at the door and his brown eyes glittered in appreciation of the little black dress I was wearing. My coat dropped to the floor. He took me in his arms and started a marathon of kissing, light, deep French, lips all over my face, ears and neck. I was panting in anticipation.

"Where's Robin?"

"She's running late," he said, nibbling my neck, letting my hair fall into his face. "You are the hottest goddamned woman I've ever seen, Amber."

I was against the wall of the entryway into the room as we continued to make out. As he kissed me, he fondled my breasts, gently pinching my nipples. Then his hands wrapped around my waist and I could feel his fingers searching for my panty line. "Such a bad girl," he murmured, as he realized I wasn't wearing anything beneath the dress. His hard penis poked against me through his tailored slacks. I reached down and unzipped him, letting it hang out freely as I wrapped my hand around the shafted and stroked up and down. He reached under my hemline and brushed my bush, put a finger inside me. All this while we stood there, kissing like teenagers. I tried to guide us inside to the bed, but he kept me there.

"I want you now," he said, and in a flash the slacks and boxers were at his ankles. He pushed me against the wall, raised my hips with his hands. My legs went up and he slipped right in, mashing my back against the wall. We fucked, my legs wrapped around his lower back, his thick cock impaling me, his hands holding me in the air. He was strong as hell; all I really had to do was enjoy, which I did. It had been years since a man had fucked me against a wall...back in...hell, my mind was too fuck-addled for history. His breathing picked up and I was whimpering and moaning, his cock finding its way deeper and deeper into me. "Amber...oh, my god...fuck...," he yelled and I felt his pelvis and legs shudder as he came. The man was no boor: He held me there, his cock still inside me, kissing me gently. Finally I felt him go soft and slip out. He eased me down, then picked me up and carried me to the bed, where he slowly undressed me, what little there was to undress.

He used the little black dress to brush lightly across my nipples, which were so hard already. Amazing feeling. Then he started licking them in concentric circles, one nipple, then the other, back and forth, each time applying more pressure until he was really sucking hard, which I love. I pulled off his shirt and ran my hands across the light hair on his chest. Then he eased me back down and dropped down on the bed. I felt his mouth on my right foot, licking and sucking my toes. It sent bolts of pleasure up my legs into my pussy. For maybe the next 30 minutes he gave me "the treatment," licking and kissing up one leg, then the other, lingering on my inner thigh. Then I felt his tongue on my clit and shuddered. He wasn't going to let me off that easy, though. He backed down and started running his tongue around my pussy lips, then he tongue-fucking me, causing me to get pretty noisy but not go over the edge. I felt him sucking at me. A good Kegel girl, I bore down and gave him a taste of his come. Was it. He rose up and French kissed me with a huge glob of semen mingled with my pussy juices. Our tongues danced in it before I swallowed the goo. That had me bucking and grinding against him, I was so desperate to come. He went back and brought me off expertly with his tongue, then fucked me awhile missionary — not bad for an "old guy." I had an aftershock through my pelvis with every stroke. "Oh, a scratcher and and screamer," he said, looking down on me. I hadn't noticed. Then he held me as I came down off the orgasm plateau.

"Robin's not coming."

This broke me reverie. I asked why. "She has her own lover tonight, a younger guy. Maybe we'll invite him sometime."

This made me vaguely uneasy, as I had checked them both out before embarking on this little adventure, and I knew nothing of Robin having a separate lover.

"Does she know you're with me?"

"Sure," he said. It was a lie, I knew it.

"I just had to have you, Amber."

I didn't resist as he pulled me on top of him and I slipped his penis inside me and started to ride.

Valentine slut

Now that I'm walking a little more normal, let me tell you about Valentine's Night with James and Robin. Remember, they know me as "Amber," the name I chose when Chris first introduced us. I thought it was better to be consistent and not raise questions in their minds, so Amber I was. It's easy when you're a professionally trained liar. We met at an intimate bar near DuPont Circle and enjoyed a drink and sexy talk (me a martini, Robin a cosmo). Then we walked to a hotel where they had reserved a suite for their Valentine's gift to each other: A threesome with Amber. I should add that underneath my regulation-issue spy trench coat, I had nothing at all, except for sheer black stockings and a black garter belt.

This was, as a boyfriend once said, quite a fuckfest. So...some impressions:

Robin is five years older than me and looks at least five younger, with flawless fair skin and wheat blond hair worn in a bob; she's shorter than me, but still has nice legs, large breasts and a thatch of colorless-to-gray pubic hair one finds on many blondes (hey, I've been in gym showers). James is ten years older, with a jock body but aging well, executive square jaw, salt-and-pepper hair... His cock is probably around seven inches, nicely thick, with a very, very nice helmet of a head on it...Robin's pussy looks like an "inny" when you first see it, but with a little manipulation and arousal, it's a classic Georgia O'Keeffe blossom...

It can't be avoided, so early on James is fucking me from behind on the king-sized bed while I lick Robin, her legs spread wide in front of me, pussy smell in my nostrils. I take a long time with her, doing it the way I like, such as lingering with my mouth on the insides of her thighs, kissing up to her pussy but just barely touching it with my face before starting on the other thigh. Her skin is taut, warm, smooth, and she shakes and arches her back as I begin to really tongue my way around her labia. She is drenched. And all this would be my focus if I didn't have a nice cock inside me. I feel as if I've revirginated during the time I've been between lovers. I'm tight and it hurts a little at first, and my pussy walls stay clamped around him. He's very gentle and slow. I soon realize this is because he's so aroused by watching me lick Robin that he's afraid he's going to come in me too soon...

Like me, Robin's a screamer and she lets go big time. Animal-like, primal, rhythmic. I love it. Just love it. I gently keep my tongue on her clit to milk every last second out of her orgasm. She grips my hands tightly. After awhile, we change positions, and James is fucking Robin from behind, but I am under her, sixty-nine style. So I get this great view of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy blossom, pussy lips being pushed in, then pulled back out full, again and again, while I try to lick each of them like dessert. Robin rests her head on my tummy while he fucks her, trying to lick me but never quite able to stick with it. "Ah...Oh!...God...!" she moans. I can feel James' shaking, trying to hold out, but he can't and pumps frantically inside her, letting out a big groan. He rocks against her a long time, then gently slides out. I lick his cock, covered with semen and her scent and juices. Then I lick and such his come out of her. She sits up on my face and I get a good glob and her anus on my nose. Then she starts licking me...

In a moment, they're both between my legs, taking turns licking my pussy. James goes up and sucks my nipples hard, then returns to my nether-regions, again and again...we're a tangle of legs and arms...until I can't fight that hot sensation that starts in my feet in pretty soon explodes in my crotch. I scream hard, sudden, gripping Robin's head and forcing it against my pelvis. By this time, James is hard again and climbs on top, giving me a long, hard fucking. He is very into my legs, loves the stockings, tells me to wrap my legs around him, then slips my ankles over his shoulders for a real pounding. His older-man hanging balls bounce sensually against my ass. He calls my name as he fucks me. I like this, even if it's not my real name. I come twice this way while Robin sits back, sips champagne and watches...

We fall asleep all wrapped together. When I come awake, I have my moment of natural paranoia/disorientation. It's strange to wake up with two other people in bed with you. What wakes me is Robin atop James, riding him with ever more urgency, her blond bob bobbing, a little perspiration breaking out on her forehead, a blush spreading across her upper body and face. She silently collapses on top of him. Later we both give him a blowjob, even though the result is just a trickle of semen...he wasn't complaining.

Neither was I. Amber had fun. I caught a cab home around 3 a.m. and let the two of them be together. The inside of my trench coat has a big semen stain on it where my souvenirs dribbled out of me on the ride back.

The very breast for the holiday

I'm back in the states and missing Europe. Maybe if I'm a good girl they'll post me there someday. I stayed away from the family for Christmas, a good thing given all the drama around Justin. So I took the train up to New York and spent Christmas with my old friend and sometime lover, Jon. We could never make it as a couple, but there's a wonderful familiarity everytime we get back together.

The sexual high point for me wasn't anything spectacular, such as making love in a department store window (which my ex always promised we would do, but never happened). We were in his cozy Manhattan walkup with the lights off, just letting the ambient city illumination spill into the room. He was sitting on the love seat that passes for his sofa and I straddled him and started kissing him. He is a wonderful kisser, and knows just how to tease, then heat me up with progressively more passionate kisses. This went on for a long time, from light lip brushes to professional tongue wrestling. He always tastes fresh. Sometimes he fucks my mouth with his tongue and it reminds me of what it is like when I sit on his face and he tongue-fucks my pussy.

Gradually more clothes came off. I felt his warm hands against my back, rubbing my collar-bones -- which for some reason he makes incredibly sensual -- and caressing my breasts. By this time, my nipples were aching from being so erect, and he started to work on them. He is the man who taught me how to really have my nipples and breasts worshipped. Not being the bustiest girl in town, men often ignore my breasts -- I am definitely a magnet for legs-and-ass men. Jon loves my "perfect" pert breasts -- his words. So he worked wet circles around my nipples with his tongue, then gently sucked them. Every now and then he would nibble lightly. I felt as if there was a hgh-tension power line connecting my tits with my pussy and he was just ramping up the voltage. My panties were already sopping wet and I could feel his cock pressing against their fabric.

Then he really went at me. Cupping my breasts, he started sucking my nipples really hard. I thought I was going to pass out it felt so damned good. I told him so in words and moans. First one breast got the treatment, then the other while he stroked and pinched the opposite nipple with his fingers. I moaned and rocked against his cock, starting to have little nipplegasms. I kept trying to reach down and get him inside me, but he stopped me. "Not yet," he said. Then he would hold me strongly in place with his hands on my back while he licked and sucked on my nipples.

He finally let me pull the panties aside. He easily slipped in and I came almost immediately, nearly dislocating his neck from holding him so tightly. I came so hard I was crying and he held me for a long time. Later I got down on my knees and repaid the favor.

That secret college lover that the good girl never discussed

I've left up the poll on college sex experiences to savor. What a delicious variety! You already know about many of my coed dalliances.

One of my coleagues is named Susan. She's a little older, but is still gorgeous, with cute-short blond hair, Ivory soap girl skin and, from what I can tell, a killer body, with very firm, perfect breasts. Gradually, she's opened up and we've traded stories. I put in the category about only having sex with your steady -- except for that secret one-night-stand -- because of her inspiration. It took some doing, time and bottles of wine, but here's Susan's college story, as told to Linda Sue.

I grew up in a very straight-laced family in the South. Dad was a church elder. You get the idea. I was a good girl. I was going steady with a guy who was a year older; we met in high school. But it wasn't until I was nineteen and a freshman in college that we went all the way and I lost my virginity. Rob was a very nice young man, but...a little boring. We were both going to the same nearby state university, and it was just assumed we would soon marry after graduation. But, in my way, I already knew I wanted out of there. Southern girls don't rebel -- at least in my experience. So I guess I acted out.

There was Steve. I'd had a crush on him in high school: he was tall, broad shouldered, with dark wavy hair. He made me wet and flushed feeling -- it was so embarrassing. But he was one of the school "hoods" -- rode a motorcycle, not going to college, close to the drug dealers if not one of them, and working class. We were very much middle class, with dad being a prosperous businessman. To date Steve would have been impossible.

But after having lost it with Rob, a few months later I ran into Steve in a store. He asked me out and I accepted. I just did it. I couldn't believe I had done such a thing. My pussy almost gushed into my panties as I said yes. I was going steady with Rob, of course. But there I was. So Steve takes me to a movie and after drives me back to the dorm. We get into a heavy makeout session in his car. I step out and walk back to the dorm in a comatose horny state. I can't think of anything else. I had reached down and felt his hard cock being restrained by the fabric of his pants. My nipples ached they were so hard.

Later that night he calls and we talk awhile, and he tells me to come over to his apartment. Again, totally out of character, I did it. We were all over each other before he even closed the door. He was a great kisser and very strong. He guided me into the bedroom and had my clothes off in a flash. I protested a little, but he was going to have his way with me. And I was turned on by this. Intellectually, it made no sense. But it was a huge attraction, this man I had wanted just taking me. He also kept calling me "Susie." I was always "Susan," nothing else, a quick little bitch to correct people. But when Steve called me "Susie," it just fed my lust. He dropped his pants and kicked them off. His cock was larger than Rob's and it wobbled enticingly as he moved.

I started to caress it and try out my very rudimentary skills in fellatio, but he pushed me down on the bed and was on top of me in a flash. I reached down and guided his cock inside me. I was very tight, but also very wet and he skillfully took his time pushing inside until he was in to the hilt. I was already gasping and moaning and bucking against him. This little voice inside me was saying, "Wow, I have the second cock of my life inside me now -- two in one year, and I was supposed to be faithful and settle down with Rob...even my parents would have been shocked to know Rob and I had done it. That voice didn't last. Steve just overwhelmed me with his physicality. He was very athletic, a much better lover than I had experienced. He was also kind of rough and dominant. Again, this was a turn on. Pretty soon he had my legs up over his shoulders -- an incredible new feeling. He fucked me a long time, and I had my first vaginal orgasm. Then he let out a loud cry and I could feel his big cock pumping semen into my recently virginal pussy.

We made love three more times until it was time for me to go to class. I was fucked doggy for the first time. Even with a shower, his come was running out of me all the next day. I had a date with Rob that night. Although I'm sure I acted strangely, we ended up screwing, too. It was quite a letdown. In two days, two different men. Not exactly church conversation.

Steve was my secret lover for the next three months. I argued with myself about it being wrong, about the need to confess. I never did. More time than I can remember, I went from one man to the other's place with semen in my pussy. Steve would fuck me roughly, in all sorts of positions, giving me these blowout orgasms; Rob would make love to me sweetly and innocently. Steve really knew how to drive me crazy sucking my tits, and he taught me how to give killer blowjobs. I still remember how big and impressive his balls were. I learned how to tease him, then really bring him off in my mouth. Or just give a quick but satisfying blowjob out in the car. Rob benefited from my learning. Steve always gave me this thrilling sense of being an outlaw...ironic considering my eventual career.

Steve knew I was still going with Rob, but didn't really care. I was a college girl, and he knew it had no future. But what fun we had, and made even more so by its illicit nature. The two worlds of Rob and Steve were so separate, I never really worried about getting caught. I broke it off and we had one more great fuck. After graduation, Rob and I married, as expected. But I knew it was a mistake even as I walked down the aisle. We divorced six years later and I left the South for good.

For years, I kept Steve as my little secret. The outward me certainly stayed pretty straight-laced -- only five lovers in forty years. But I'll never forget my "hood."

'No falling in love': In praise of the transitional relationship

He had an old apartment lined with books, with a bay window showing the thick snow falling outside, and a fireplace that provided the only light in the room. We were both naked. I sat astride him on the sofa, feeling his cock push against me as we kissed in every possible permutation of mouth on mouth, tongue on tongue. He licked and nibbled and sucked my nipples until I was moaning. I wanted him inside me.

He caressed my face with his warm, large hand. "No falling in love," he said.

To you that might seem like a hell of a cheeky remark. But it was just the right thing to say. I nodded slowly and lowered myself onto his penis. I let him fill me up as we rocked together. I put my head on his shoulder, reveled in the way he pumped into me while fondling my ass, and let my mind fly away as I lost myself in a good fucking.

I needed all that. He was my first transitional man.

One of my readers mentioned T-Men. They are under-appreciated forces in the love that makes the world go round, the lovers who come after Big Deal relationships, the ones that have no future but help you move on.

This is not a revenge fuck, or merely a revenge fuck. It's a safe harbor. It's the great sex, combined with chemistry and companionship, and most of all the freedom of no pressure to commit, that makes the whole thing work. Later, again in "committed relationships," many women will never even admit they had T-Men, even though they nurture those hot memories.

My two T-Men knew that's what they were doing. They knew I was a wreck of heartbreak/anger/guilt and not ready for anything heavy. And they knew that the woman I would emerge as, after the journey of rebuilding my heart, wouldn't be the one they met. We might not connect in any other situation. They knew this. They were also worldly, funny and sensual and further opened the world to me beyond my repressed suburban upbringing.

Some T-Men don't realize it. And some women with T-Men don't realize they are just in a transitional relationship. They face heartbreak, disappointment, or, if they're lucky, the realization of what a gift they received. The ideal T-Man knows who he is and what he wants, i.e., not to be married that very minute. He realizes the fragile state of his lover, but also knows she will grow stronger as he fucks her well and lets her work out her old issues. There will come a time when she is ready to move on. He has the grace to let her go.

It works the other way. I have been a transitional woman at least a couple of times. Once I even used the old line, as he hovered over me, desperate to be inside me with my legs wrapped around him. To let that coupling wash away the past. I said, "no falling in love." He blinked eyes with lust and tears and slowly nodded his head, as I guided his cock head into my wet tight pussy.

Confessions of a teenage cocktease

I was a teenage cocktease. Don't hate me.

Early on, I discovered that men liked to look at me. Fortunately, when I was in high school miniskirts made a comeback, so I didn't have to wear those dreary calf-length skirts from the early 1980s. I like my breasts but they would never satisfy the monomaniac tit-man. But my legs...ahhhh...men love my legs. So I started dressing provocatively, although not, as my Mom said, like a slut. I also learned to flirt early and well.

I loved the attention. It didn't hurt that I was a cheerleader. So on game days, I would wear my outfit to class. The boys would literally twitch. I had a lot of dates, although they never went past heavy petting. Lots of my friends were hooking up and on the pill. But I was afraid and still pretty hung up from my upbringing. I also didn't want to end up pregnant and never get to college.

Older men noticed me. My father's friends paid me inordinate attention, listening to my callow opinions about politics and art and whatever. I realized the sexual flux, even if I didn't quite understand it. I wasn't above using it to get a favor. As I say, don't hate me. I left a lot of balls blue. One night my father took me out to dinner to celebrate my acceptance at a good college. I dressed to the nines in a little black dress, and he looked quite good in a suit. I realized the other diners thought I was his young mistress. What a trip.

I had an incomplete understanding of the connection of my actions and getting fucked, especially when I was in my teens. I got the link between male attention and the wet, warm achey feeling between my legs, the way my nipples would stand at attention. It was fun at a dance to feel the hard cocks pressing against me through the boys' trousers. Oh, making out, when a boy would stroke my inner thigh, I had a hard time putting his hand back to my knee. Later, alone in my bed, I would masturbate like crazy, feeling guilty all the time. I was also incredibly naive.

Once I caused a wreck. True story. I was walking downtown in a miniskirt, and saw this guy driving by oogling me. Then...bam! He smashed into the back of the car ahead of him. "Caution, professional cocktease, closed course!"

I grew up, lost my virginity and then some. I became a clothes horse and moved in sophisticated circles. But I still like to dress classy-sexy. I can still draw eyes at parties and make insecure wives flush with anger. And sometimes I remember times like the summer nights in college when I went without panties in a short skirt and shimmied up on a bar stool to let the men buy me drinks.

Sometimes it evens out. I don't look like I did even 10 years ago. Meanwhile, I know men who couldn't get a date when they were 20 but are now overflowing with desperate and desirable women.

The brother-in-law shows me his holiday cheer

It was quite a day at the old homestead. My bother-in-law Justin came onto me like never before. He's married to my uptight sister Amber, and I know he is both attracted to me and frustrated at the lack of sex in their marriage.

It doesn't surprise me he's frustrated. Amber has all my mom's hangups about sex and isn't shy about letting me know she thinks I am a shameless harlot. But, hey, he married her (she definitely got the big boobs in the family; maybe that's it).

So before dinner, I go upstairs to use the bathroom, and once I am at the door, Justin is behind me, hugging me, kissing my neck, reaching around to pinch my nipples. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. Maybe I let it go on a little too long. When I turn around, I see he's unzipped and his erect cock is poking out.

I must say, he's got quite a unit!

I shooed him away and peed in peace. But it was the perfect reminder that adultery and its possibilities are always around us. I'm not going to fuck my sister's husband (hee-hee, what do you think about your slut sister, now, Amber?). But I will write about adultery later this week. I have given and taken and been screwed by it...