How I Became Emperor

Publishing this is scary. Not because I am afraid of criticism (at least I think I can handle that pretty well), but because this has been a labour that started almost a decade ago, and was even then really only intended for private consumption and not regularly tended to.

Now, a decade older, having not mellowed out and (arguably) a bit wiser to the world, I have decided to put this forth. I will welcome any feedback, good or bad, but hope my writing from ten years ago still holds up now.

The first two chapters (which, as a warning, encompass 122,000+ words by themselves) are mostly done. On top of that, I am still expanding on the story, delving into new fantasies and new characters. So in theory there is a lot of content I could just throw at you now. However, I am not going to release all of it in one go, mainly because I have noted that there is a serious need for me to go back and edit what I have written. I cringe, re-reading significant portions of my younger-self’s exuberance. I am going to try to keep myself to a schedule of releasing one part every week, until I get to my current end-point, at which time I will probably need extra time to complete the story.

A couple other things to head off:

 

1. The narrator/main character doesn’t have a name on purpose. He will also never be named going forward.
2. While this starts in our past, it will move into our future in chapter 3.
3. While all parts will contain explicit sex scenes, there may be long sections of philosophical or social discussions.
4. All characters are exclusively over 18 years old.

 

All that being said, I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter One: From My 21st Birthday to My First Election

Wednesday

This autobiography will tell readers the real reasons why I ended up taking the oath of office that made me the first honorary emperor of the re-established Roman Empire. Many biographies have been written about me, and I shall refer you to them if you want to be instructed on official transcripts or the various small oddities of my life that have been picked over by the public press. In this autobiography I will retell only those events that made me powerful – in heretofore unknown salacious detail.

The first thing anybody wishing to emulate me will need is luck. Lots of it. It was my good fortune that when I turned twenty one I met Cindy. As much as this story is ostensibly about me, in reality I believe that Cindy was the fulcrum around which my success truly pivots. She was the kind of girl who would never know hardship. Even if she had chosen never to work or apply herself to anything, men would have thrown money at her just to be near her. The epitome of the blond bombshell, Cindy towered over most men with 180cm, had legs that didn’t just go on forever but also gave her the appearance of floating across the ground, and had a (comparatively) small bubble butt and breasts that would comfortably and snugly fit into my hands.

It should be noted here for anyone who had been living oblivious to the world for the past three decades that I am not your average male. All through my life I have towered over my friends and once my teenage hormones finally decided to give up trying to create a monster, I had grown into a two meter giant. My hands were equally massive giving me the facility to easily grasp a basketball with one hand, my feet made it difficult to find shoe stores that had stock in my size, and I regularly lamented the fact that my clothing was expensive just because it consumed more fabric than most other garments. Alas, inasmuch as I could cut an imposing figure whenever I wished, fate also gave me a weak physical condition and made me a gangly assemblage of limbs attached to a sufficiently fit, but definitely unimpressive frame. Teenagers can be mean about appearances, and when I turned 14 life became miserable. Already an outlier in respect to my height, a severe bout of acne and a sadly lacking aesthetic sense for fashion helped push me into the geek crowd. In retaliation against everyone I did my best to glorify and exacerbate my alternative situation. It was during this time that I developed the fashion and hairstyle which I am told has become iconic of my image (and, upon my entrance into the political game, fashionable among youths despite my exhortations otherwise). However, during my high school years the straw blond, ram-rod straight hair that fell to the small of my back was seen as the mark of a hippy, and the pure-black chinos, cufflink shirts, broad-brim western style felt hat and knee-length cloak casually thrown across the shoulders instead of worn as intended (i.e. NOT using the sleeves to house arms) were all indicative of a goth disposition.

And so it came that on my 21st birthday the few friends I had graciously took it upon themselves to arrange a party at a local bar/club. We drank, we laughed, we joked and we drank some more. By the time I was finishing my third Guinness (and the various shots of tequila, vodka and rum that people kept buying for me) I noticed that I was definitely nearing the transition from extremely tipsy to highly drunk. That in itself wasn’t a problem, it was my birthday after all and I was aiming for the stars and attempting to get rip-roaring drunk. However I had a tradition when out on a birthday celebration that I would always buy a round of absinthe shots for anyone in the bar who cared to try my favourite drink, and for the first time I had promised myself that I would buy the real absinthe, made with wormwood: a mild hallucinogen instead of a non-hallucinogenic synthetic substitute.

So I sauntered (it probably was much more stumbling, but as I remember it I had extreme grace and suavity) up to the bar. As I was looking to catch the attention of the barkeep I happened to look across the bar to where a small group of girls had gathered for their own late night party. In their midst, quietly dominating the social scene simply with her presence was Cindy. A black dress, surprisingly modest, yet somehow still incredibly sexy without revealing much. It ended at her knee on the left side, and nearer her upper thigh on the right. Subtle support hinted at the shape of her breasts without showing any cleavage. She did not notice me staring, which I count as luck on my part, for had she seen the lechery in my eyes she might never have talked to me. As it was, however, the barkeep had to wake me from my reverie.

In a slight daze still, I gave him my alcoholic command: anyone in the bar who wanted one would have an absinthe shot on me. A slight frown from the barkeep preceded, “That’s not going to be cheap mate.”

I tried to smile winningly and handed over my credit card. “Tonight I don’t care. It’s my birthday!”

“It’s your money.” The barkeeper shrugged and wandered over to the closing bell.

A quick premature ring of the bell got the attention of everyone in the place, and after pausing the music also the attention of the dancers gyrating to the bass beat. “The crazy birthday boy over there,” he indicated me, “is buying a round of absinthe shots for anyone who wants one. Pick it up in the next ten minutes at the end of the bar.” He turned the music up again, called over one of the other barkeeps to help him and set to work pouring out measures of absinthe into mixer glasses, and separate tall glasses of water, while his companion set to work placing the sugar cubes over the alcohol and lighting the bright green liquid. Absinthe is not a very popular drink, the licorice taste puts off most people, but the option for a free drink as well as the novelty to most customers, a curiosity heightened by the almost ritualistic way in which absinthe is prepared and drunk, attracted a large crowd. Some of those who happened to pass by my place at the bar as they made their way to collect their drinks gave me congratulations and thanks that I attempted to accept gracefully.

In between well wishers I attempted to snatch a glance of the goddess across the bar, to see whether she was going to avail herself of my offer, but I couldn’t immediately see her. In the end I did spot her platinum blond hair flow gracefully through the crowd around the end of the bar as though the press of humans was no more than water. Having gained the prime position for those queuing for the free drink, she leaned in to ask a question of the barkeep who looked up momentarily distracted from his work by the beauty before him. I assume that Cindy had to ask the question twice because only after a stunned moment did the barkeep glance in my direction, wink and shake his head. Cindy waited a moment while the barkeep fiddled with something behind the bar that I either could not see or didn’t care to notice, busy as I was simply admiring Aphrodite’s earthly incarnation.

But then Cindy accepted a platter from the barkeep and flowed gracefully again through the pressing crowd. Having found an exit she made a beeline for me.

“I don’t think it’s fair that the man buying the round doesn’t get served the first drink.” Her voice was quiet, reserved, but at the same time absolutely self-assured and incredibly seductive. I had to fight to get any words out.

“Th- thanks.” I stammered.

“Gladly. I’m Cindy by the way.” She stretched out her hand to be shaken. I gave her my name in return.

“Shall we?” She smiled at me radiantly, and set the tray down on the bar. “You’re going to have to instruct me how to drink this properly though. I have no idea how this is done!”

I called over the third bartender, still serving drinks to customers who didn’t avail themselves of my offer, to relight our absinthe, and showed her how to delicately pour half the water over the caramelizing sugar cube and into the burning absinthe, then briefly clinked glasses with her before pouring the warm liquid down my throat. As I lowered my glass again, and took up the leftover water to help quench the burning sensation that the absinthe leaves as it makes its way down the oesophagus I noticed my friends watching quietly in awe at my company. They had enough sense not to disturb this moment of pure bliss, even intoxicated as they were.

The drink consumed, I waited for the buzz and mild hallucinations to turn up. With a sudden start I realized that I wasn’t sure if Cindy was aware that this absinthe might give her visions. She gave a small bemused laugh at my concern, and a cough at the strength of the alcohol, “the barkeeper mentioned something about it, yeah.”

I was intoxicated enough to make a rather pathetic pass at her, “I can only hope my hallucination is half as beautiful as you.”

The reaction from her was unexpected: she gave me a strange look and then sought eye-contact with her friends. Later she would tell me that she was not used to being approached so openly. Most men naturally assumed her to have a boyfriend – a conclusion which I would have similarly reached had I not been as drunk as I was. Cindy was used to having to approach men herself.

We were saved an awkward and possibly debilitating lull in our conversation as her gaggle of friends came over to thank me for their drinks as well, and to wish me a happy birthday. Each of the girls was beautiful, I remember that much, but somehow they all became little more than a blur in the background of Cindy. They took their leave and returned to their end of the bar with Cindy in tow. Before she left however she leaned in close to me, gave me a kiss on the cheek (which was arousing to me – though it was little more than a peck) and whispered, “Happy Birthday” in my ear.

I sat at the bar for a moment longer, attempting to calm my beating heart, half-mast erection and my nerves before I rejoined my friends at a corner table to admiring and lecherous comments, and reclaimed my stool at the head of the table.

Ten minutes later the bartender came over to me at my corner table as I watched a green fairy with a distinct resemblance of Cindy flitter and strip seductively on the table for my private pleasure, and returned my card.

“I’ve billed you for €1750.” He stated. Before he left I handed him thirty euros and suggested that he and the other bartenders consume a drink on me when they closed for the night – and to keep the change. I then returned to the private strip show the fairy was giving me.

Most of my friends were either engrossed in their own visions or had taken to the dance floor in an attempt to further heighten the buzz. As I was engrossed in watching the fairy use her wings to hover on the edge of a beer glass and massage her breasts in slow semi-circles, Cindy’s voice broke through my pleasure. At first I assumed it to be part of the hallucination when she asked “liking what you see?” in sultry tones. I just nodded, but watched the vision dissolve back into reality as Cindy continued, “I had the most amazing vision as well.”

She leaned in closer behind me so that I could feel her breasts press lightly against my back while she equally as lightly whispered for my ear only, “Do you want to know what I saw?”

I managed a hoarse “yes, please!” Hardly daring to believe that this was actually happening I held my breath for what seemed an age while I waited for her to answer. Cindy grabbed a nearby chair and scooted in desperately close behind my stool.

“I saw,” she began almost contemplatively, “a bright flash of purple. It was so sudden I think my friends were worried I might collapse. They grabbed my arms and where they touched me I felt a wave of fire enter my body and burn through me in a cleansing roar.”

As she talked Cindy brushed her silken fingertips along my arms erotically and pushed her body up closer so that we were connected from hip to shoulder. Her pert breasts squashed up against my back.

“Once the wave subsided I saw an angel walk into the bar. I know he was an angel because he had massive wings, a large flowing cloak, a bright silver sword and walked through the door while it was closed. I couldn’t see his face, I don’t think he had one, but he looked at me, and walked straight towards me.”

I didn’t know what to do with my hands, I was breathing heavily and hoping desperately that this femme fatale did not notice my now fully sprung erection.

“The angel stopped right in front of me, and raised the sword slowly. As he raised it the sword glowed brighter and brighter, I had to close my eyes, but even through my eyelids I saw the sword and the angel as clearly as though I had not closed my eyes at all.”

Cindy’s full lips were now brushing against my ear with every word she said. I am sure my heavy breathing betrayed my arousal but I didn’t care anymore. I had barely enough presence of mind not to remove my hands from their vice-like grip on the table. They would have probably wandered to places that such a public place as this bar would not allow.

“The angel very lightly touched the tip of the sword to my forehead, and pressed gently until it broke the skin. I became immediately aroused, as wet as the ocean on a rainy day.” Cindy intimated to me, “I needed release, but the angel wouldn’t let me cum just yet. He touched the sword to my chest and pushed it through to pierce my heart. As he did so my arousal reached breaking point! I moaned in pleasure, still aware of my friends holding me, and that I couldn’t be too obvious.”

The whole of Cindy’s hands now wandered across my arms and chest caressing me quite openly and I thought I sensed subtle movement as Cindy began to gyrate her hips surreptitiously against mine.

“And still I did not cum. I tried to silently beg this angel to bring me sweet release, but he just shook his head, his face still obscured, and ever so slowly lowered the tip of his sword to here.” Cindy took my right hand and gently guided it behind my back and between us to sink lower and lower across her taut belly. I could feel her skin quiver underneath the dress as my hand passed over the velvety fabric. With glacial impetus she let her guiding hand push mine ever lower between her thighs. As my hand slid into place over her groin she let go a breath held since she stopped talking.

“You can’t imagine the ecstasy of that sword tip as it barely even brushed my pussy.” She took up her story again, “better than anything, … I, … I can’t think of any way to describe it. And still I did not cum! The angel smiled, I think, though I still couldn’t see his face, and pressed the sword so that only a millimetre entered me there.”

Cindy used her hand to press my middle finger slowly into the narrow chasm between her nether lips through the fabric of dress and underwear.

“Yes!” She breathed in my ear unable to keep her arousal under complete control anymore. “And as he pressed his sword into me I finally came. I gushed more than I have ever released. My underwear is soaked, my tights are cold and clammy down to my thighs, I can hardly move without feeling a squelch.”

Her guiding hand left mine behind to continue slowly caressing her, and gently tugged the fabric of the dress away from between us. Her other hand slowly descended across my chest and brushed lightly across my penis through my trousers under the table.

“When I had calmed down a bit,” Cindy continued to whisper in my ear in between breaths and small nibbles at my ear, “the angel raised his other hand and pointed at you. Then he slowly dissolved, leaving me still held in the arms of my friends who swear only a few seconds had passed.”

Her one hand continued its ministrations down below while I similarly caressed her pussy now only protected by indeed soaked underwear. From what I could tell it was a very racy and skimpy slip. Cindy’s other hand, having given me more direct access to her vagina rose along my back sensuously and then weaved itself into my hair.

“Thank you for such an amazing vision! I never knew something like this could exist!” Cindy cooed breathlessly. “What did you see?”

I didn’t answer. I was too engrossed in the wonder of her caresses, and the sensation of rubbing her pussy to make any kind of sound. I don’t think Cindy minded either. She was engrossed in the sensations as well, using her hips to gently increase the friction between my hand and her groin. I revelled in the sensations and was taken by surprise when suddenly Cindy buried her face in my neck, and moaned uncontrollably, yet as softly as she could. The vibration of her open mouthed moans pressed against my throat as well as her sudden grip on my member through my pants sent me over the edge as well. Now not only her slip was wet, but a definite dampness spread along my boxers as well.

We rested in that position for a long moment, then Cindy kissed me lightly on the throat and got up. I panicked at the sudden loss of her presence against me, though she kept her hands resting on my shoulders while she came around to plop herself in my lap. My eyes flew open as she did this to catch the shocked and almost horrified expression on two of my friends’ faces who had evidently watched with some interest what Cindy and I had been doing. Before I had a chance to be embarrassed, though, Cindy filled my vision. She gazed smokily into my eyes, and used a silken palm against my cheek to bring us together for our first real kiss.

I probably should have mentioned it before, but I was new to all this. I had never kissed a girl on the lips, let alone with tongue! Any previous sexual experience I might have had was completely self-taught in the privacy of my bedroom with only the models in magazines to keep me company. I had often made a pass at a girl, occasionally managed to steal a first date from a woman before she uttered the wish to ‘just be friends’. I had no experience with anything that had happened or would happen. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Nothing.

But for a first kiss nothing could beat what that kiss did for me. With excruciating slowness our lips would meet, slide briefly across each other, then part for only a moment to allow us to take a breath, before coming crashing together again.

Then Cindy began to use her tongue. As our lips intertwined, her tongue would brush against the lip between hers to make my eyes fly wide. Cindy’s remained closed as she concentrated on introducing me to the art of kissing. Her arms hugged me tightly to her so that I was pressed against her breast, while one hand gently held my head in position. My own arms had instinctively wrapped themselves around her shoulders. Almost without thought my own hand trailed a path down along her spine to grope as surreptitiously as possible at her ass. I also had to consciously lead my petrified tongue forwards to meet her own advance, and take my first taste of her.

I cannot be sure how long we kissed like this, but eventually I was rudely forced out of my bliss when Cindy’s friends came over to check on her. In between exchanging assuring words with her friend for whom I did not even spare a glance, Cindy would lean in to give me occasional pecks.

“Come home with me?” Cindy proposed brazenly once she had managed to rid herself of her friend.

“Huh?!” I exclaimed, surprised.

“The bar’s closing.” Cindy replied, “Time to go.” She added a pretty pout.

I looked around to note that indeed it had grown late – or better said early. The crowd in the bar had thinned out to only the most dedicated night-life enthusiasts, and even they were slowly being ushered out by the bar staff. Cindy’s friends were collecting their coats and shawls, while many of my friends appear to have left without saying goodbye. I couldn’t blame them… In their shoes I would have had enough honour not to disturb the virgin birthday boy who seemed well on his way to getting laid.

“Uh, sure.” I answered, “your place. Sounds good.” I said it blandly, attempting and completely failing to appear nonchalant about the whole thing. Cindy laughed gaily, hopped off my lap, handed me my cloak and then led me seductively by the hand across the now nearly empty dance floor with an exaggerated sway to her hips that I could not fail to notice.

Like the puppy follows its master I walked behind Cindy totally enthralled.

It was a brief chilly walk around the corner to her apartment. The whole way I was racking my brain trying to find a way to start a conversation, while my subconscious brain waged a desperate battle to keep my mouth shut for fear that I would mess up this incredible opportunity. My subconscious was aided in great part by the incredible beauty of the girl that had self assuredly place my arm across her shoulders as we quit the bar into the pre-dawn glow, and grabbed my ass beneath my cloak as we walked.

I was a perfect gentleman in every way except conversation as we came to her apartment, doing my best only to stare and not touch as Cindy bent at the waist to insert her key into the lock.

“Come here birthday boy.” Cindy purred as she straightened again and pulled me into another kiss while retreating backwards into the abode. I saw nothing of her apartment till the afternoon when I awoke, too entranced in the meantime with the heavy petting we were engaged in as she led me to her bedroom.

As we entered that inner sanctum Cindy turned herself in my arms leaving me to kiss her neck and instead took my still hesitant hands and placed them firmly over her breasts. As I have said, they eloquently fleshed out my sizeable palms. They were not the humongous beasts sometimes favoured by men, but certainly had their own heft and weight. There was no sag at all, and they yielded ever so wonderfully to my caress. Her nipples proved Cindy’s arousal, small tender nubs on the heights of her mounds. Oblivious to all else I gently squeezed and released that mammary flesh, enjoying the way Cindy would gasp and moan at the caress. Without my noticing it Cindy still had enough presence of mind to get us as far as the bed. With a sigh of pleasure Cindy collapsed forwards onto the bed. She probably had expected me to collapse next to her, but I failed to react quickly enough. Her breasts were ripped from my grasp almost violently, and the shock woke me from the reverie again.

“I- I need to say something.” I forced out riveted to the side of the bed watching Cindy writhe as she turned over onto her back and raised herself up on her elbows.

“What?” She asked breathlessly, her chest heaving erotically. I could see a quickly hidden flicker of fear behind her eyes as she considered the possibility I had a sexually transmitted disease.

“It’s…” I breathed heavily to get this confession out. I considered myself a gentleman in all things, and I wouldn’t let her go into this trust blindly, even if it cost me the culmination of this night.. “It’s my first time…”

I don’t know why so many people are afraid of their first time and feel the need to warn their chosen partner in advance. I suppose it to be a fear of disappointing the partner, and attempting to lower expectations in advance. Of course this is counterproductive, for it could well cause the partner to become aware of small hesitations, misgivings, mistakes or even failures that would otherwise would have been overlooked – and when that is not the case, it simply distracts from the task at hand.

I was lucky. Cindy just laughed that carefree laugh, grabbed my shirt and pulled me down on top of her into a passionate kiss.

“I could give a fuck.” She gasped at the first opportunity, “and you need to pay up on the promises you made earlier tonight.”

“What promises?” I queried confused.

Cindy gave an exaggerated tut. “You DO need to learn. When you make a girl’s legs squelch with every step she takes it is your duty to see that she is not left in that state for longer than necessary!”

Coyly Cindy let the straps of her dress slide down across her shoulders. I was tempted sorely, but “there’s something else as well…” I almost wailed desperately. “I don’t have protection!”

“None?” Cindy replied. I was forced to shake my head, much as I wanted not to. Cindy deflated somewhat, and bit her lower lips putting me into the terrible quandary of having her appear even more sexy, but still attendant upon her permission to continue the tryst. After a moment’s thought, however, Cindy burst out, “ah, fuck it. I’ll go buy a morning-after-pill tomorrow!”

Again she took the initiative by pulling me down on top of her. We writhed fully clothed against each other for a while, frenching madly. And then the simplest of movements from Cindy made me see stars again. Very gently she raised her right knee so that she could rub her thigh against my penis, as she did so she broke our kiss again, gave me a coy smirk and asked, “have you already forgotten about your promise? I just explained it to you!”

I didn’t need telling twice, but I wanted to savour this moment as well. It would be the first time that I would see a fully dis-robed woman. Outside of a magazine at any rate. And I got to actually take the clothes off! Could this evening get any more erotic?

I kissed her gently, just a brief meeting of our lips to show Cindy my intention to be gentle, to take my time. And then I raised myself to get a full view of what I was about to uncover. Cindy lay squarely framed on all sides by faint moonlight, glistening on the slight sheen of sweat she carried from our physical exertions. Alabaster skin contrasted so starkly with the black dress, it made me wonder what goddess I was looking at as I ran a hand along each arm pulling the straps of her dress down.

With entrancing ease the black fabric revealed ever more of the pearly skin. Already a deadly pale, I could trace the faintest of tan lines down across each shoulder, widening as slowly the rise of Cindy’s breasts began to appear. I held my breath, mouth open and longing to descend and taste that flesh, but I kept my head high to keep that view. Cindy seemed to feel an erotic pleasure at my voyeuristic enjoyment, her chest seeming to heave like the sea in the midst of a ship-breaking storm. Unconsciously she also turned her head to the side, closed her eyes, and bit the tip of her finger in a desperately seductive move.

The full glory of her breasts were revealed with surprising suddenness as I pulled her dress past the peak of her mounds. I probably imagined the slight corrective wobble to the flesh, but the mounds were pert and firm even as Cindy reclined. In the cool air her skin pebbled, only further drawing my attention to her nipples, small nodules resting atop areolae just barely larger than a twenty cent coin (I would at a later date have the opportunity to make the comparison).

I could not resist any longer, and placed both hands atop the now bare breasts. I sucked air in desperately, glorifying in the immediate physical contact with a woman’s private parts. The fact that these private parts were absolutely perfect, and only the beginning of what I was getting into sent me into sensory overload. My erection had reached almost physically painful arousal. After a moment exploring Cindy’s breasts with my hands I hesitantly lowered my head towards them, my eyes flickering between the intended destination, and searching Cindy’s face for approval. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself, moaning her pleasure loudly thereby simply heightening the sexual energy in the room. Apparently my approach was too slow for her though, and she quite suddenly grabbed my head and pulled it into the crevice between her breasts.

I drew in a strong waft of her scent, the tinge of her sweat mixing effortlessly with a hint of lavender from what I presume was her perfume to create a more intoxicating effect on me than even the absinthe had been able to produce. I had hardly finished my first inhalation than I rushed to take the second. As if of their own accord my lips began to nip at the exposed flesh, my tongue snaking between them from time to time in order to lap at the sensitive flesh. Cindy showed her appreciation verbally, “Oh, Fuck!… Yes!… I needed this!”

Her cries of pleasure just spurred me on to explore the region some more, kissing and licking my way slowly up her right breast to tease her nipple with my breath, before suddenly devouring as much of the breast as I could get into my mouth. This was met by a pleasing scream from Cindy as she arched her back to greet my hunger. Not sated with just the right breast, I switched to the left and teased Cindy for a longer time, letting my lips, and tongue brush only lightly across the nipple waiting for a reaction. I was content not to be satisfied with Cindy’s arching back, her gasps and twitches as I alternatively flicked, nipped, kissed and caressed her nipple. Only when she burst out with an exasperated “For heaven’s sake!” and again sought to force me onto her teat did I consent to bury myself in her breast.

As I engaged in this heavy petting, I was surprised when I felt one of her hands grasp for my penis through my trousers. Her grip was firm, and yet at the same time almost gentle as it began to rub my erection. Reluctantly I released Cindy’s breasts, and raised myself up above her prone form again to take in the breathtaking sight. She lay, her dress crumpled down around her hips, my right hand lazily caressing her cute depress around the belly button. She gazed back at me with heavy lidded eyes, still coming down from the sensory high I had given her, yet also not willing to let go of my still sheathed member.

However, I did have to move from her side down between her legs in order to finish my task of undressing this nymph, and that required her to let go of me. She did so reluctantly, though I was slightly relieved, worried that I would ejaculate again to my embarrassment simply from her attention. Once positioned to have an absolutely perfect view of what I was about to reveal, I leaned in for another passionate kiss before taking a firm grip on the dress to either side of her hips.

I again resolved to take my time in revealing this most elusive of fruits to me, but my patience seemed to have finally run out. A tender glance into her eyes was all it took for me to hastily slip the offensive fabric under her butt and up off her legs. Cindy’s legs remained straight up in the air after I had removed the dress, and she very slowly lowered them to rest on my shoulders

From here I had a view to die for. Along the line of the legs, still encased in thigh-high stockings, my eye was drawn inexorably down to where a thin silken strip of blood-red fabric, drenched beyond repair, lay daintily covering swollen lips. Again it was the contrast of Cindy’s ivory skin to the almost harsh red of her slip that remains vivid in my memory as one of the sexiest images I have ever seen. From the lady’s crotch, my view spread across the vast plain of her belly, through the ravine between her mountainous breasts and to her face which sat on the horizon of my current ability to see. I let my eyes wander that vista, finding nary a blemish on the skin. A vast smile was painted across Cindy’s face, as though the Cheshire Cat had decided to visit, and she asked me with what I would soon recognize as a signature coyness, “Like what you see?”

I nodded dumbly. Instead of trying to form words through a throat that had seized up, I decided to dedicate myself to the task of slowly getting a closer look at Cindy’s pussy. Using my hands to caress the legs resting on my shoulders, and my mouth to kiss my way from the feet down towards the upper thigh, I began my descent. The closer I got to my goal, the deeper I breathed in between kisses, stretching my senses to get that first whiff of her nectar, the first taste of her womanhood. As I neared the border between stockings and flesh I caught it, the heady trace of a sweetly tangy taste on the tongue that faded all too quickly. I relished that taste, and instantly was ravishing for more. With increasing vigour I kissed and licked my way across the warm flesh of her upper thighs and quickly came face to face with the drenched silk slip.

I breathed heavily on that fabric, just millimetres away from my goal, and yet hesitant now that I had got here. My fingers were frozen holding Cindy’s hips, poised to peel away the last protection, but unmoving. Why exactly I am not sure to this day, but something held me back from simply diving in. I waited, for some signal or switch to be thrown, perched on the brink and staring into the abyss. My lack of movement must have caught the attention of Cindy for she raised herself onto her elbows again, her hair slightly tousled now from the bed, to give me an inquiring look.

I looked back and must have seen whatever sign I had been waiting for in her look, a final permission to completely bare the last defence Cindy had. Our eyes remained locked as I pulled the slip over her hips. I could almost feel the heat roll off her sex now that it was not absorbed by the soaked cloth, and the scent of her arousal now intensified. I ran the slip up across the legs Cindy helpfully lifted again, taking care not to close them completely so that we could maintain our eye contact.

Our gaze was broken for only an instant as I had to lift the underwear between our line of sight, but it was enough to break the spell. When the red wisp of cloth had passed by Cindy’s eyes were hidden behind her eyelids, closed in passion and expectant of my returning touch. I, for my part, was freed to finally look down to see her pink lips freed to the air, capped by a small landing strip kept short and trim. Those folds seemed to quiver in anticipation of my coming touch, and I was loathe to disappoint. Still, I took two deep breaths before closing the final couple of millimetres between the treasure before me and my own lips.

Cindy had to bite back a scream of pleasure as our flesh did finally meet, and still as I began to explore her sex with my tongue the occasional yelp escaped her. Like any teenage boy denied access to a live specimen I had studied up diligently on the art of pleasing a woman by going out of my way to pay attention during sex-ed classes, and doing some private study with the help of the internet. Still, it was a whole new world to have the live and writhing example before you, demanding to be pleasured.

I did my best, making a point of seeking out her clitoris with my tongue, and stimulating it with tongue-flicks, suckling and small love bites. Cindy appeared to enjoy the sensation immensely. She dropped back to the bed and called out, “Oh God… Oh yes! Yes!… Right, there!”

And yet I immediately noted some practical problems. My hair, one of my great prides, would get in the way and I repeatedly had to brush it away — an irritating problem since it lessened the time I could keep my hands roaming all over Cindy’s body. Nevertheless, I took great intoxicating pleasure in hearing the stimulating moans that I could suckle from Cindy’s body. I was gearing myself up to actually penetrate Cindy’s sex with a finger when she suddenly grew deathly quiet, forgetting even to breathe, and arched her back entirely off the bed in an attempt to force her sex deeper into my face. She kept this up for almost a minute, quivering across her whole body in increasingly uncontrollable waves before completely collapsing.

I was about to return my mouth to its ministrations, not only eager to regain the kissing contact with her nether lips, but also eager to continue pleasing this woman. Instead Cindy weakly closed her legs, turned the lower half of her body to the side, and waved for me to return my attention upwards. Who was I to argue?

I kissed my way along her body, past her breasts and up her neck line. “That,” Cindy heaved once she had regained enough composure to talk, “was amazing.” I could only agree. “You’ve got a bit to learn.” she continued, “but even for a sexual expert that was good!”

Before I could let that go to my head Cindy had already prepared the next stage of our tryst. I found myself lying on my back on the bed, straddled by the naked Venus as she set about eagerly undoing my shirt, and invading my mouth with her tongue. “Time to give you a payment.” Cindy lilted teasingly. My shirt hadn’t even come to rest on the floor by the time Cindy had undone my belt and was tugging insistently on my pants. On auto-pilot I lifted my hips slightly from the bed to allow her to easily slip my pants off to join my shirt on the floor.

All that was left were my briefs, and Cindy seemed suddenly in no rush to finish undressing me. The left side of her mouth twitched upwards as she lowered her face to rest just above the bulge. Her tongue snaked out and licked along the shaft through the fabric, making my penis twitch of its own accord. As it reached the top of the penis, Cindy’s tongue next wandered into direct contact with my skin at my lower belly. As she slowly pulled my underwear off, Cindy kept her tongue toeing the line too and fro like a caged tiger. It didn’t take long for the head of my penis to peek forth and be immediately presented with the soft touch of that devilish tongue.

Cindy’s tongue was… Amazing. Heavenly. I had the greatest of luck to have a woman so well versed in sexual arts to take my virginity from me — yet at the same time it was child’s-play for Cindy to manipulate me however she saw fit, with no more contact than the tip of her tongue. It meandered down my shaft, and just when I thought she was about to turn around, her tip kept going past the base of my penis and into the region of the perineum. I had no idea that such an innocuous part of my body could be so sensitive! It had never appeared important to me before, just another part of skin to cover up the necessary organs and muscles a body had. But with Cindy’s attention it was quickly giving me a breathing problem.