Yet again I find myself having to choose between two women. Busty Czech is sweet and harmless, but becoming hard work. The Saffa is feisty and fun, but I know that she has been badly hurt in the past and might not be capable of love. I’m struggling to choose, so I resolve to tell The Saffa about my situation when I see her today. It feels like the honourable thing to do. If she walks away then I won’t blame her, but if she chooses to hang around then I know that she’s serious about me.
I meet The Saffa at noon at my train station, she insists on kissing me full on the lips as we greet, which makes me feel uncomfortable. Can she sense something?
We walk to a nearby Italian restaurant to share lunch. The place is empty and we get a table upstairs with the whole floor to ourselves. Perfect for an intimate conversation.
The Saffa is talkative as usual and she’s positive. The latter point is becoming more important in my thoughts nowadays because I’m seeing that Busty Czech is somewhat negative. Our nightly conversations have cemented into a format that involves her first asking about my day then it quickly moves onto her bitching about her job then moaning about her mother’s latest mind games. Tedious; I’m starting to not want to have our evening chat.
The easy thing to do would be to ditch Busty Czech and take my chances with The Saffa. The problem is that I’ve shelled out a lot of money to go away on holiday in a few week’s time with Busty Czech and that money is non-refundable. I need a sunshine holiday and money is becoming tight for me, so I don’t know when I’ll next have a chance to have one. The timing of all this is terrible.
Can I string both of them along until after the holiday and make my decision then? I doubt it. Busty Czech is oblivious to my growing misgivings about her. The Saffa is keen and I won’t enjoy the trip with thoughts of The Saffa hanging over my head. It’s time to come clean. I take a deep breath.
“There’s something I have to be honest about with you. A couple of weeks ago I met someone that I’ve been on a couple of dates with. So far it’s been okay, but I’m still making up my mind about her.”
That’s all I’m going to tell her for now. She’s going to get emotional then angry; that’s what is likely to happen.
After a moment of thought she responds, but not with what I was expecting.
“Well, there’s something I need to tell you too. After we met in April I started seeing another guy. It lasted three months and I did sleep with him several times. I hadn’t had sex in two years until him. I got the impression that that he had someone else on the side, so I ended it in July.”
My mind sprints around as I do the maths. It’s now late August, so she’s probably not processed all the feelings about that scene. Can she be on the rebound? How strong were her feelings for him? Is it safe to have sex with her? Was it a lucky escape on Friday night that she started her period? I feel the need to know.
“Did you guys play safely?” I ask, trying to remember when last I went to that awful sexual health clinic.
“Yes, he used a condom every time,” she replies.
I appreciate her honesty, or what seems like that.
An electrified silence descends between us. We blink at each other, both uncertain about what to say next. Her words have little effect on me; I couldn’t care less if she had been seeing someone, but obviously she felt the need to tell me. I think we’re both now focussed on what happens next. It’s not often that I’m at a loss for words but I am right now. I know that I have to accept whatever comes my way from her.
After some thought she says, “So what are you going to do?”
“I really don’t know. What would you do?” I respond.
“I don’t know either,” she says with a puzzled look on her face.
“Until the way forward is clear for me, how about we just enjoy our lunch?” I suggest.
The Saffa smiles falsely as our food arrives. We eat with long teeth, but after a while she takes a deep breath of her own and becomes talkative again. Lunch ends and I have no plan, now expecting to walk her back to the station and perhaps never see her again.
“I don’t suppose we can watch some more Californication?” she asks.
So we end up back at my place indulging her latest addiction. After a couple of episodes I go into the kitchen to make us coffee and she follows me. I turn and meekly smile as she puts her arms around my neck and starts kissing me.
Her action takes me completely by surprise and I’m not sure it’s the effect of what she was watching or her feelings for me. I think I know where this might lead to.
“Are you still on your period?” I ask.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun,” she replies, uncoupling her arms, grabbing my hand and leading me to the bedroom.
The Saffa pushes me onto the bed and starts undressing me. I’m a little ill-at-ease because I’m not a fan of vaginal sex while a woman is on her period. Oral for me is a given, but what about her? Suddenly I wonder if she’s into anal.
She strips down to her panties and her perfume fills the room. This afternoon I can see more clearly and The Saffa is carrying a few more pounds than a typical woman, but I like that. I like the feeling of a woman who has something to hold onto. A mischievous smile is all I see as she covers my face with her perfect blonde hair before she slowly drags it down my face and across my chest, as if it was a silky feather.
Do you know the difference between kinky and perverted? Kinky is when you use a feather. Perverted is when you use the whole chicken. I wonder if she’s kinky or perverted? I intend to find out.
Her feather-like hair traces a path down my torso, along a leg and she stops at my feet. She slides off the edge of the bed and seats herself on the ground while holding onto my right foot as if it is holy icon. Soft, gentle, slow kisses follow the contours of my feet as her lips become instruments of pleasure.
No woman has kissed my feet before. How novel! It feels damn good too. Wait, an idea hits me. I must film this. My phone is quickly in my hand and I get the video camera function working in record time. The Saffa is unaware of my now filming her.
Expertly she takes her time to tease each of my toes with a slow kiss before sucking each one into her mouth, latching on briefly before releasing it and moving on to the next one. I’m watching and recording this, knowing what she is going to do and nevertheless each time, each toe, feels like a revelation. I’ve heard of ‘shrimping’ but it hasn’t really appealed to me and luckily no woman has asked me for it because I would have declined on hygiene grounds, but my preconceptions are wonderfully wrong.
The Saffa returns to my big toe, runs the tip of her tongue over and around it, teases it with with her bottom lip then swallows it. The warmth of her mouth sends electric pulses firing throughout my body and a little bit of jizz might have popped out of the tip of my growing penis.
My toe makes a popping sound as it leaves her mouth. Her lips start moving up the inside of my opposite leg and she raises herself with minimal effort off the ground and makes her body follow her mouth. Her kisses are measured, as if each one counts for something. The effect it has is that of making my skin a huge, sensitive sexual organ.
She certainly knows what she’s doing but a part of me is wondering about the bigger picture. Is she trying to seduce me into choosing her over Busty Czech? It must be what’s behind her actions. Women have for centuries used sex to get their man. As stategies go it’s not a bad one. It’s good one. A very pleasurable one. Fortunately for me I’m not so easily swayed or seduced any more. After all my dating and relationship experiences of the past two years I have now arrived at a point whereby I can separate my sexual, physical enjoyment of a woman from my feelings for her. Is this what happens if you’ve have too many sexual partners? Sex is now a hobby to me?
Now her tantalizing mouth has made it’s way up to my groin area. She gently licks then kisses my balls. Nothing in the world seems more important to her right now. Her hair is in the way of her face and the camera demands to see her blue eyes, so with my free hand I part her silky hair to one side, revealing her face. Her eyes are fixed on my erect cock as she runs her tongue up and down the length of it. As she reaches the tip she grips my shaft in one hand, lifts it towards her face and closes her eyes as she slowly swallows as much of it as she can.
With utmost dedication and expertise she unhurriedly moves her mouth backwards and forwards over my helmet and halfway down my shaft, repeatedly and deliberately. Time seems to stand still and the only sound to be heard is her saliva being spread over my penis.
“You’re a good cock-sucker,” I say for some silly reason.
The Saffa makes no sound and raises her gaze, her eyes connecting with mine momentarily before she notices the phone in my hand. A small furrow appears between her eyebrows but she says nothing, preferring instead to keep my cock in her mouth. Why do all women look so sexy with my cock in their mouth?
She looks down again and resumes doing what she has clearly mastered. It isn’t long before my balls tighten and I feel a stirring in my scrotum.
“Where do you want to feel my cum? In your pussy? In your mouth? Over your tits…or in your arse?” I ask.
I’ve learned that when you’re suggesting something to someone, the last of the options you present is the one most likely to be chosen. So I’m being naughty and am baiting her, more to check her reaction than anything else. I’m not seriously thinking we’ll end up doing anal.
“Hmm,” is her reply.
“You’d like to feel it in your arse, wouldn’t you?” I tease.
Maybe she’s not into anal after all. I’ll tease some more.
“Imagine me fucking you doggy-style. Then imagine me putting my thumb up your arse as I fuck you doggy-style. You’re going to like that, aren’t you?”
I’ve also learned that when women are in a sexualized state, any suggestion directed at them assumes profound importance. They take it very seriously and are likely to do what is suggested because it is what their brain is focussed on. When the pussy juices are flowing and a cock is in their mouth a typical woman will agree to do just about anything. In this moment I’m planting the seed of what is likely to become an eventuality, the timing of which will take care of itself.
Silence as The Saffa hears my words and keeps rhythmically sucking away on my cock. Seconds later she stops abruptly, releases my penis from her mouth, looks up at me and speaks.
“Stop filming now,” she says.
“Suck it,” I retort.
Half a minute later my cock starts pumping and squirting cum into her mouth. It doesn’t disturb her motion or rhythm at all. Somehow she swallows all my cum and keeps on going down on me until I can’t take the pleasure any more.
Once I’ve regained my composure, I reciprocate by sliding my hand into her knickers and playing with her clit until she cums. I leave sucking on her nipples until near the end because that is what sends most women over the edge. The oldest tricks are the best.
The rest of the sunny afternoon is spent lying in my bed, talking, laughing and getting to know each other better. It’s only when I see her off at the train station that the sense of guilt returns, gripping me like a warm vice, as I remember Busty Czech and our upcoming trip together.
The Saffa still doesn’t know about the trip; she’d freak out if she did. Busty Czech doesn’t know about The Saffa; she’d freak out if she did.
No matter how I look at it, somebody is going to get hurt.
It’s all my fault.
My life has generally felt like I’m constantly in shit, it’s just the depth that varies, but right now it feels like I’m in over my head.
The Fray – Over My Head(Cable Car)