Drinking that third high-octane margarita was probably ill advised. Suddenly feeling the oppressive humidity, I interrupted Matt mid-sentence and said, “Let’s go for a swim.”
“Sounds good to me. Do you have any extra swimming trunks lying around?”
“You don’t need trunks,” the tequila replied. “I always swim au naturel.”
“Sexual harassment!” he quipped in mock alarm.
Again the agaves elixir loosened my lips.
“No need to worry about that, I play for the other team,” I blurted.
Without missing a beat, “Oh my God! My French tutor is a dyke. What to do, what to do?”
Poking him in the chest playfully, “I’ll tell you what to do, shut up and get in the pool.”
Affecting an exaggerated bump and grind, Matt began peeling off his T-shirt, finally letting it drop with a seductive flourish. He stepped out of his sandals and struck a coquettish pose while running both hands through his shoulder length hair and licking his lips, then slowly unzipped his pants. He continued to vamp it up as he eased his pants down and off.
In my inebriated state he looked more like a small-breasted woman than a 19-year-old man as he stood there wearing only bikini briefs. His torso was soft and undefined, with pectorals reminiscent of ripe pears. Long and nearly hairless legs, slender ankles, and delicate feet completed the visual impression. I felt a familiar stirring as I gazed at him and did my best to ignore it.
“Your turn!” Matt announced.
I kicked off my espadrilles and began unbuttoning my blouse. Soon the garment fell open just enough to offer a peek at the sides of my breasts, and in a toned down imitation of his performance I wiggled out of it and thrust my chest forward.
Using my best Marilyn Monroe voice, “I need some help with this, Matty…it seems to be…stuck,” thrusting my hip provocatively in his direction as I tugged at the zipper of my skirt.
This parry surprised him, causing a fleeting awkward moment as he hesitated before shyly coming to my side. After he guided the zipper open, I encouraged him to remove my skirt. The startled look on his face when he realized I was in commando mode underneath was priceless.
“Haven’t you ever seen a pussy up close and personal before?”
Matt shook his head from side to side.
“So I guess that means no woman has seen your cock either.”
Quietly: “Uh huh.”
“Well then, this is a night of firsts, isn’t it?”
I slid his underpants off, exposing his flaccid member―gay or submissive? I wondered absently―and a sparse patch of pubic hair, before taking his hand and leading him into the pool. We started out swimming aimlessly, but after a few minutes we just lounged in the shallow end enjoying the moonlight and the sounds of the night.
To a casual observer we would have appeared oblivious to one another’s nudity as our conversation resumed and drifted from topic to topic. But there was a sexual tension lurking below the surface that we both pretended didn’t exist, for a while anyway.
The increasingly insistent physical yearning eventually broke down my judgment and I climbed up on the side of the pool and sat with my legs spread apart directly in front of Matt. Perhaps ten seconds quietly passed as we gazed into the beckoning abyss.
A barely audible “Pleasure me, Baby” finally broke the silence.
And he did, sweetly…tenderly…and oh so passionately. My clitoris throbbed almost painfully as his lips and tongue gently teased it for what seemed an eternity but was likely closer to twenty minutes. The climax that followed was so intense that my bladder relaxed briefly and a small amount of pee mingled with the vaginal fluids that Matt was slurping enthusiastically. I found it strangely exciting that he probably was unaware that it had even happened.
My loins continued to glow after I recuperated. This was uncharted territory, but somehow it felt natural and comfortable. Without a word being spoken, I headed into the house and he followed.
In my bedroom I retrieved a blindfold from the nightstand and tied it in place over Matt’s eyes, then directed him to lie face down on the bed. Alcohol wasn’t necessary to see Matt’s androgynous characteristics from this vantage point. But it didn’t interfere either.
I lit a massage candle with a sensual fragrance and let it burn long enough to produce a pool of warm massage oil. During the melting process I slipped my harness on and fastened a modest-sized attachment to it. As I climbed onto the bed I pressed the start button on my iPod and soon the exquisite improvisational piano music from Keith Jarrett’s Koln Concert filled the room.
Matt shivered with anticipation when I poured some of the melted shea butter in the small of his back and began spreading it in all directions with the tips of my fingers. I lingered on his upper body, working in the oil with firm, tender strokes. But by no means did I ignore his lower extremities. He would have been hard pressed to walk without assistance after I finished massaging first his legs and then his feet.
Eventually I arrived at my ultimate destination. Savoring the moment, I paused briefly before pouring warm oil onto his butt and slathering it generously between his cheeks. In no particular hurry, I lay down on top of him and began slithering from side to side.
My nipples tingled with lust as I slid my breasts along the oily contour of his back. As I pleasured Matt with skin-to-skin sensations, I also began teasing his anus with my dildo. At first I rested its length between his ass cheeks and slowly slid it up and down. Progressively I positioned myself lower on his body until the up and down movements resulted in the tip of the dildo nudging his opening on the upstroke.
“Your life is about to change forever,” I whispered as I gently eased my phallus past his sphincter.
A contented sigh was the only response.