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Cecilia's Desire For Older Men

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Cecilia's first time with an older man.

This is a true short bio of how I came to be attracted to and only date older men.

This is a story of how I began my first affair with an older man when I was eighteen years old and how I came to find myself attracted to older men instead of boys my own age.  My name is Cecilia and I was born in Okinawa, Japan but adopted by a white American couple from Charleston, South Carolina when I was seven months old.  My adoptive parents are great.  My mother could never have children so they adopted me and I could not have wished for better parents. 

I grew up rather privileged, not necessary with money although my parents, while not wealthy, are well off.  My mother did not work outside the home when I was growing up but when I turned fourteen and could more or less take care of myself she got her real estate license.  It was more for something to do than for money and she sold real estate part-time.  My father is an attorney and partner at an old, prestigious law firm in Charleston.   My privilege had more to do with who my adoptive family was than money.  To understand that, one would have to understand the city of Charleston, South Carolina.  I could write several chapters or even a book on the society of Charleston alone but I will spare you of that and try a brief summary.

I don’t mean North Charleston, but the old area of Charleston and what is called South of Broad, which is living south of Broad Street; the imaginary line that separates the Charlestonian social aristocratic elite from the rest of the people living in the Holy City.  South of Broad is the most exclusive part of Downtown and perhaps the entire state. Rows of palatial antebellum mansions line East Bay and Meeting Streets, but you'll find homes of all shapes and sizes on the quaint wandering streets. Perhaps the quietest neighborhood of Downtown, residents here enjoy the tranquility of the suburbs with the proximity of urban living, though this district is very popular with meandering tourists and horse-drawn carriages. In the past years, it has become a favorite of part-time second-home owners, and you can still find native Charlestonians and families if you look in the right places.  My adoptive family is one of those native Charlestonian families that could trace their history to the founding fathers of the city.

That was not to say they had a great deal of wealth.  Many of the families in our social caste did not have lots of money; by the end of the Civil War, the wealthy planter class soon found themselves with bank accounts of door-to-door salesman.  No, it was not money that gained one entry into the elite country clubs, the yacht clubs, or got one invited to cotillions or the Saint Cecilia Society; it was a matter of bloodline.  I grew up with girls who would rather be courted by a muskrat than a boy from a family without proper breeding and social skills.     

As for myself, as an adopted Japanese girl, I was not accepted into the "proper" social class right away.  It took time and effort and after attending etiquette classes, cotillions, debutante balls, and my own charming social skills I learned from my mother and grandmother, I did get accepted; of course, my adoptive parents' bloodline helped more than a little.  At age eighteen I was a proper young southern lady; more importantly, I was a proper young Charlestonian lady.  I had attended etiquette classes and cotillions to learn proper manners and propriety of a young lady of my social standing, I took ballet with my female friends and peers two times a week since I was five, and I was dating a proper young gentleman of seventeen with whom I attended high school at Porter-Gaud.  The day after my sixteenth birthday, I moved out of my parents' main house on Legare Street and into the guest cottage, or mother-in-law cottage as we call it, behind the main house.  It was a one-bedroom cottage with a small living area and a kitchen and one bathroom.  Even though it was just behind my parents' home and they could still monitor my coming and going and if I broke curfew or not, it still made me feel a little more adult and I felt it gave me more freedom. 

Physically I call myself cute, some people say I am pretty or even beautiful but I disagree with them, and let's face it; men will say almost anything to get into a girl's pants.  I have too many physical flaws to be anything but cute.  Naturally, my face has strong Asian features with almond-shaped slanted eyes and black irises; somehow I picked up freckles on my face I hated and did my best to cover with makeup. Standing only five feet two inches tall, I am too short to be anything but cute.  I even lied on my driver’s license and said I was five foot three just to give myself that one extra inch.  I have a decent body, I guess; I am not fat or even chubby but weighing one hundred and twenty pounds and with my height, I was not some ninety-five-pound waif of a girl either.  I think my 34A-cup breasts are too small and I often wore a padded bra to make them look larger, I always felt my thighs were too thick and my hands too pudgy with short fingers.  I do have a very nice butt, however, and I have great hair that is black, soft, straight, and comes down past the middle of my back.  So yeah, I am just cute, but people overlook my lack of being beautiful because of my charm, proper manners, and ladylike gracefulness.  I was also more than a little spoiled and prissy.  Among my friends and peers, I was popular and well-liked and a member of several clubs at school, both social and academic, and even a cheerleader.

My story starts on a hot, humid June day, typical of Charleston in the summer, and I had been only eighteen for almost two months, just graduated high school, and was going to be attending college in the fall.  I was helping my mother and father as they hosted my father's annual Citadel alumni party.  My father was a graduate of the Citadel, and Citadel alumni are almost cult-like.  Every June I could remember my father hosted a party for the neighbors as well as his former classmates from the Citadel, the ones who could attend at least, and normally there would be about six to ten of them.  After the party broke up and the neighbors and other friends of my mother and father left and the few of my friends I would invite, my father and his former classmates would stay up and talk way into the early morning of the next day, telling stories of their time at the college; stories I must have heard over a hundred times by then. 

“Stop it, Travis,” I said to my boyfriend as I pushed him away.  Travis and I were in the guest house, alone, and he was trying to kiss me.

We were in the guest house so I could change my top.  I had spilled Bloody Mary mix on myself when I was playing bartender for my parents and their adult friends.  I, of course, was not drinking but I liked mixing the drinks and playing bartender.  I had taken off my top and was just wearing a pair of white shorts with my one-piece swimsuit underneath.  Normally I would wear my bikini but my mother suggested the one-piece and made a joke about an attractive eighteen-year-old running around in a bikini with older men at the party.  I knew she was only half-joking and after seeing the older men sneak glances at my friend Kathy in her yellow bikini I knew my mother was right.  Of course, Kathy was much prettier than I was with her long strawberry blonde hair, perfect body, and taller than I was.

“Come on, Cee.  Just real quick; no one will come in here and it’s been over a week since we fucked,”  Travis replied to my rebuke of his advances.

I wrinkled my nose, a habit of mine when someone used vulgar language in front of me, “Don’t say that word like that.  We have sex not the other and I am not in the mood right now and we have to get back to the party."  I tried to push him away again. “And I hate when you call me Cee.”

Travis kept his arms wrapped around my waist.  "You are never in the mood much.  Kathy fucks…sorry, has sex with, Michael all the time and we rarely have sex."  I could tell by his tone he was getting a little angry and I could feel his erect penis under his swimsuit pressing into my stomach.

“Says Michael but according to Kathy, they don’t.”  Kathy was my best friend.  I lied to Travis just then; Kathy and Michael had sex every chance they could get, according to my friend.  But then again, she liked sex. I was not too fond of it.

I had lost my virginity to my boyfriend, Travis and ever since then, he wanted to have sex all the time while I allowed it only rarely.  I did not find sex all that enjoyable; yes, it felt pleasant but nothing like how Kathy described it to me and I know I never had an orgasm with Travis or an orgasm at all.  Kathy suggested I try masturbating and gave me instruction on the best way to pleasure myself, but good girls did not do those things and I could never bring myself to touch my body down there for pleasure.  It was not that I did not enjoy intimacy or was a prude or was not attracted to the male naked body.  I liked showing affection and cuddling and snuggling and enjoyed kissing Travis a lot and our make-out sessions did arouse me.  I enjoyed giving Travis oral sex; I enjoyed that a great deal, and I enjoyed when he would orgasm in my mouth and swallowing his sex fluid.  I liked his cum; the taste, the smell, and the texture of it.  Giving Travis a blow job made me feel delightfully naughty and I thought it kinky.  Of course, I was not very experienced with sex and found the two times I let Travis do me from behind kinky, naughty, and honestly made me feel like a whore when he did it that way, so I rarely let him do it like that.  I found actual intercourse messy, sweaty, and found Travis's grunting while he thrust into me rather vulgar.  Luckily it never lasted that long before he would orgasm.  I also detested his whining about using a condom even though I was on birth control.

I have a great relationship with my mother.  She does not try to be my friend but I know I can trust her and talk to her about sex and other personal topics and she would not tell my father I was sexually active.  When I told my mother I lost my virginity, she gave me the “being careful talk” once again and took me to the doctor, and we discussed birth control options and I settled on a Nexplanon implant in my arm. 

While I was not in love with Travis, I was attracted to him and cared for him.  We had known each other since kindergarten and he grew into a handsome, proper, young gentleman from a "proper" Charleston family.  He was nineteen and just completed his Plebe Year at the Citadel.  He was good looking, a nice body that was now better toned after his strenuous first year of college, blue eyes, and light brown hair that was short and neat and well-trimmed.  He was also tall, about six-one.  I liked tall men or boys.  There was just something about standing next to them and me being short and how they towered over I found sexy and made me feel very feminine.  Travis and I had been dating for almost two years.  As I mentioned, I cared for him and liked him and found him attractive but I knew I did not love him.  I think I started dating him because it was expected of me to date since my girlfriends had started dating.  Plus it was he was a guaranteed escort to the debutante balls and I would not have to worry about if I would get a date or not to them, which would have been a social disaster.  Plus, there was the added benefit of walking into the St. Cecilia Ball with a boy wearing the full dress uniform of the Citadel. 

Travis pulled me closer and started to kiss me again and I responded by kissing him back and allowing his tongue to enter my mouth and wrapped my arms around his neck.  I did enjoy kissing.  I could feel him rotate his hips and rub his erection on my stomach.  We kissed for a while and he pulled back.

"You can't let me go back out there with a hard-on," Travis told me, trying to convince me to have sex with him.

I bit my lower lip, another habit when I was thinking or nervous.  I was not nervous.  “Okay, I will put it in my mouth and I promise later tonight we will do it.”

Travis grinned and nodded.  I got down on my knees and pulled his swimsuit down and his erect penis popped out.  I took it in my hand and started to stroke it slowly.  I did like his penis.  I thought the male sex organ looked neat.  Travis gave a moan when I parted my lips and opened my mouth and put it around his erection.

“Damn, Cee, that feels so good,” Travis told me as I worked his penis with my mouth.  “Pull down your top.  I like looking at your tits when you do this.”

I wrinkled my nose at him calling me Cee again and when he used the word “tits” but I did not correct him this time nor did I pull down the top of my swimsuit; instead, I took him deep down my throat and the pleasure of me deep throating him made him forget about my breasts.  I was very self-conscious about my breast size, and even with Travis I rarely let him see them; when we had sex I often kept my bra or top on.

“Uhhh fuck, Cee, you sure can suck a cock,” Travis told me as I started working my mouth harder and faster on his penis and using my hand to stroke his shaft, now slick with my saliva.  I did not like him making crude comments like he just did, but I was enjoying myself too much to stop and I would chastise him after for it.

As I continued to give his penis my oral attention, Travis put his hand on the back of my head and pushed me further down on his erection.  Still giving him a blow job, I moved his hand off my head but did take him down my throat again.  I liked deep throating him but did not like it when he forced me like that or even his hand on the back of my head when I sucked his penis, something he was aware of.  I felt his body tighten and his moans became louder and I knew he was about to orgasm.  I pulled my head back a little so that just the head of his penis was in my mouth, and while I jerked his slick shaft harder and faster, I ran my tongue over the head of his penis. 

“Uhhh, God, I am going to cum,” Travis grunted out.  “Fuck…uhhhh, fuck.”

Travis gave a series of grunting moans and a slight thrust of his hips into me as he orgasmed in my mouth.  I felt his warm, thick, sticky cum spray into my mouth and enjoyed the feeling of it hitting the back of my throat.  I did not swallow the rest of his cum right away and I milked his penis with my hand to get as much of his sex fluid as I could in my mouth.  As I mentioned, I liked the taste of his cum and I liked to savor it before I swallowed all of it. 

When I could not coax any more of his cum out of his penis, I pulled my mouth off of Travis's penis, looked up at him, swallowed, and smiled at him.  “Feel better?”

My boyfriend grinned down at me and nodded, “Damn, Cecilia, you are the best at doing that.”

I stood up and kissed his cheek - Travis would not kiss my mouth after I gave him a blow job - and looked into his eyes, "Better than Kelly Ann?"

Travis’s grin turned into a frown. “I told you she means nothing to me.  How long am I going to have to live with that?”

“As long as I want,” I told him as I walked to the bedroom to get a new tee shirt.

Last summer Travis cheated on me with a trash girl named Kelly Ann.  I was surprised that it did not upset me as it should have and I think that's when I realized I was not in love with Travis.  What upset me was when our friends found out; it made me look like a fool, and to make matters worse, Kelly Ann was a Yankee from Ohio whose parents relocated to Charleston for her father's job.  I only brought up his cheating on me when I wanted something or to make him feel guilty or used it as an excuse not to have sex with him.

“Are we going to Deanna’s party on Folly later?”  I heard Travis ask me as I rummaged through my top drawer for a tee shirt.

Our friend Deanna was having a graduation party at her parents' beach house on Folly Island, and all our friends would be there.

“I can’t.  You know I have to help Mother clean up after the party, and it will be late,” I answered as I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

“Kathy and Michael are driving out there later and I thought we could ride with them,” Travis was trying to convince me to go.

“You can go if you want,” I said as I walked back into the small living area of the guest house. 

Travis sighed when he heard the tone of my voice, “Okay, we won’t go.”  He knew he was not going to win this so he gave up; Travis won very few of our arguments and knew I never compromised.  Why he wanted to continue to date a spoiled, bratty girl like me who always got my way with him was something I did not understand.  It was not the sex because we had very little sex; maybe it was because I gave such good blow jobs, according to him at least.  Maybe he did really love me; I don’t know if he did or not, but for whatever reason he always gave into me, fearing the tantrums that I focused on him when I got mad or wanted my way.

“We are still going to fuck later though, right?” he asked as we walked hand in hand out of the guest house.

Once again, I wrinkled my nose at his crude comment, “I promised, didn’t I?”

Once we rejoined the party I went back to the bar and relieved Mother of the bartending duties while Travis went to the other side of the pool to join Kathy and Michael.  I saw him whisper something in Michael’s ear and the other boy looked at me and grinned and I knew Travis told him I had just given him a blow job in the guest house; I blushed.

During the rest of the party, I played the perfect co-hostess alongside my mother; she taught me well.  I was charming and delightful and even a little flirty with the older men.  There was one man that I was more flirtatious with than the others and I could not help it; for some reason he made me feel giddy and nervous at the same time.  Donald (Don) Preston is one of my father’s classmates but they were not really friends nor were they "frenemies" either; they were competitors all throughout their four years at the Citadel.  They competed for almost everything from the best time on the obstacle course to rank and even girls.  I had never met Don before that day but I knew of him from the stories my father and mother told of him.  The main reason Don was a subject of a lot of my father's stories about his time in college was that my father "stole" my mother from the other man.

Per my mother and father, the story went that while my parents knew each other growing up, being members of the same social class, they did not know each other very well.  They met a few times at parties and balls and other social functions, but for high school, my mother attended the all-girl private school Ashley Hall while my father attended Porter-Gaud.  Then there was the fact my father never really took too well to being around the social elite and much preferred having friends from the public schools and from among "improper society".  He considered his peers to be snobs.  A friend of my mother's set her up on a blind with Don and they had been dating for about two weeks when she was his date to the Ring Ceremony at the Citadel and the ball afterward.  The Ring ceremony is a big deal for the students at the military college; it's when the seniors are presented with their class rings.  My father, who was escorting another young lady, saw my mother again and per him, it was like seeing her for the first time and he said he fell in love with her right away and my mother said the same thing about my father.  The two ended up ditching their dates and attending the ball together and the rest is history, as they say.

The reason I never met Don before at my father's previous parties was that after he graduated the Citadel, Don took a commission into the Marine Corps and made a career in the military.  He was then a  colonel in the Marine Corps and recently stationed at the  Strategic Weapons Facility Atlantic in Goosecreek, SC in command of the Marine Security Force there.  Basically, his men guard the nuclear missiles on the base that resupplies naval submarines.  Don was also from North Carolina and not a Charlestonian, twice divorced with no children. 

My father invited him to the party only because he was a Citadel alumnus and as I said, they can be rather cultish, and even if they did not like each other much, they were still "brothers".  For an older man - I knew he was my father's age since they graduated college the same year - I found him extremely handsome.  He was tall, standing about six feet three inches, thick black short hair with no grey in it, these piercing blue eyes that would make me blush when he looked at me as if he knew what I looked like naked, and a nice hairy chest.  I like hairy chests.  Since he was wearing only his swimsuit, you could see that he was well built and had a muscular toned body like an Olympic swimmer. 

I flirted with him more than I should have, I admit.  Oh, it was not the obvious shameless flirtations of a young trash girl, but the subtle flirtation of a young southern lady.  Letting my hand linger on his when I handed him a drink, giggling at his jokes whether they were funny or not, flipping my hair as I looked into his eyes, and even a few times innocently running my hands up his arm.  He would flirt back and make me blush and get nervous, but it was all innocent fun, I knew.  I admit I did wonder if he and Mother ever had sex but then drove that thought from my head.  Per the story my parents told, Mother and Don only dated for about two weeks before she and Father got together, and I knew my mother was not the type of girl to have sex with a man after only two weeks of dating.  I suspected she was a virgin when she started dating my father.

After the party broke up I helped my mother and some of the other women clean up while the neighbors and my friends left and my father took his former classmates into the house, where they would sit around and drink more and tell exaggerated stories of their time in college.  Mother was a little upset my father was drinking so much and going to drink more; my parents were not teetotalers - we are Catholic after all - but they were also not heavy drinkers.  My mother was upset because she was a little tipsy herself and when my mother has been drinking she starts to feel very amorous to downright horny.  Before I moved into the guest house, there had been many nights I would have to put in my earbuds and listen to music on my cell phone to block the noise when Mother and Father came home and my mother had been drinking.  My mother was upset that my father would get too drunk and pass out or not be able to "perform" his husbandry duties.  I found it very funny. 

I could not find Travis and figured he joined my father and his friends in the main house to add his own stories of his plebe year, when the older men would tell him that he had it lucky and how easier it had gotten since they were in school since females were now allowed in the Corps of Cadets.

After we finished cleaning I went into the guest house and waited for Travis so I could fulfill my promise to him about having sex.  I knew we would not get caught because Mother would be miffed at Father and go to bed while Father would be too far into his cups to bother us.  I decided I had been a little bitchy to Travis earlier and decided I would make up for it by dressing a little sexy for him.  I touched up my makeup, brushed my hair out of the ponytail I had worn it in all day, and changed into a pair of sexy, black lacey panties and a matching bra, and waited in my bed for him. 

I waited and waited and waited.  After about thirty minutes, I was rather mad and I decided he was not "getting" any, and I turned on the reading lamp on the nightstand and started reading a book. 

I read for about another forty-five minutes before I heard the front door open, and I decided that while I was not going to have sex with Travis, I would let him get a look at what he was going to miss out on.  I positioned myself in what I thought would be a provocative pose.  I lay on my back, turned my butt a little toward the door to my room so he could see it, slightly bent my knees, picked up my book and pretended to read it, and started running my fingertips over my stomach.  I even spread out my long black hair on the bed.  I would get him aroused and then tell him to leave or maybe even be crueler and have him cuddle with me, kiss him, tell him to stay and sleep with me without having sex.   

"Well, I was not expecting this."  I heard a voice say.  A voice that was not Travis’s.  “Your father and mother are great hosts, but this is going overboard.” There was a chuckle.

I let out a squeal of shock and threw my book into the air when I looked over and saw Don standing in the doorway.  He was still wearing his swimsuit but now had on a tee-shirt with the Marine Corps logo.  I grabbed for the covers and sheets of my bed to cover myself, but I was lying on top of them so I grabbed one of my pillows instead, but it only covered from my breasts to just below my waistline.

“I…I was waiting for…what are you doing here?”  I stammered and asked the man.  I was completely embarrassed.

Don actually took a few steps into my room and I blushed when his eyes roamed over my body and then back to my face.  "It's late and I did not feel like driving back to the base, all the couches and guest rooms in the house are taken by drunk old men so your father said I could sleep in the guest house.”

“I suppose he is drunk also and must have thought I was sleeping in my room in the main house,” I said out loud to myself.  I sat up on the bed, which allowed me to at least grab my throw blanket and pull it up over me.

Don chuckled again, "Apparently.  By the way, if you are waiting for your boyfriend…Travis, was it?  He left with your other two friends - the pretty blonde girl and her boyfriend.  About an hour ago I saw him sneaking a cooler full of beer and leaving."

“Jerk,” I again said it out loud again without meaning to.  Travis must have gone to Deanna's party anyway and without me.

“I would call him stupid.  If I had an attractive, sexy girlfriend waiting in bed for me wearing just a pair of sexy panties, a shirt, and no bra I would not have gone anywhere."  Don chuckled again and looked into my eyes with a stare that made me blush again.

I really did not know how to respond to him.  For one of the rare moments in my life, I was at a loss for words.  Maybe I had flirted with him too much earlier that day and he felt he could make comments like that about me, and maybe he was just continuing the harmless flirting from earlier.  Don sat on the edge of the bed and I moved away from him to the other side, and then something occurred to me.

“Why didn’t you want to drive back to Goosecreek?  You weren’t drinking.”  It was true; I was playing bartender for most of the party and Don just drank either water or ginger ale.

He looked at me again and I blushed yet again.  The way he looked at me made me feel strange; giddy, a little scared, and turned on all at the same time.  “Maybe I lied.  Maybe your father did not tell me I could sleep in here and I knew your boyfriend left and you would be all alone and I knew I could seduce you.”

“Oh,” was all I could think of to say, and then he laughed at me.  “Stop.  You are just teasing me now.”  I pulled the blanket up to my chin, “What makes you think I would allow myself to be seduced by you, anyway?”

“Because of the way you shamelessly threw yourself at me all day.”

“I did not!” 

"Yes, you did.  All the flirting, the way your hand would linger on mine, the way you touched me at times, and even how you tried to get my attention by attempting to look sexy by taking your hair out of the ponytail and flipping it around and then putting it back.  You didn't even act like that towards your boyfriend and I noticed a few times how you pushed him away when he tried to put his arms around you while I was looking in your direction."

"That's not true!" I tried to sound offended but I really was not.  The thing was, Don was right; I did do all those things but it was just harmless fun.  “You…you were also flirting with me.”  I contradicted myself.  I suddenly felt the urge to pee, maybe because I was nervous.

“Of course I did.  A very pretty young girl such as yourself flirting with me was very flattering,” he smiled at me and it was a very nice smile, "and you are right.  I was just teasing you about seducing you.  You are too young and it would not look good if someone in my position got involved with a teenaged girl.  I am up for a star in October not to mention the fact I could get into trouble.”  Don stood up, turned to look at me, and smiled.  "No, I did not come in here to seduce you.  I told you the truth; I did not feel like driving back to the base tonight and your father did tell me I could sleep in the guest house.  Like you said, he is quite drunk…passed out by now I am sure, and must have forgotten you would be in here.  I will leave and let you get some sleep." 

“You would not.  I am eighteen, so you would not get into trouble.” I don’t know why I told him that.  “You…you don’t have to leave.  We can talk some more.  I am not sleepy.”  I don’t know why I told him that either.

Maybe it was because I did enjoy talking to him.  He was not like Travis or other boys I flirted with who let me run all over them and would do almost anything I asked them to when I wanted them to; all it took was just a subtle hint of giving them something they would never get.  Yeah, at eighteen I was pretty much spoiled, a snob, a brat, and a bitch.  My friends Kathy and Deanna were cut from the same cloth as me and the three of us knew how to get what we wanted.  Don was different; he was more than a little arrogant and very confident and seemed to be in control.  It was refreshing to talk to a man, even such an older man, who did not bend his will to me.  At least not yet; I was confident I could use my feminine wiles on him and get him to desire me and then rebuke his advances.  Call me a tease if you want, and maybe I was, but I hated not having control over a boy or man who desired me, and by the way he looked at me all day, and now in my bedroom, I knew Don desired me.  I also liked how he made me feel; there was a rush of excitement about being alone in my room with a handsome older man.  Another reason I asked him to stay was so I could tell Travis that while he was off getting drunk at a party I was up all night with a handsome, older man in my room.

Don shrugged, “What would you like to talk about?”

I gave him a charming smile. "First, I have to use the bathroom, and if you would be so kind as to hand me a tee-shirt out of the top drawer of my nightstand, and there should be a pair of athletic shorts in there as well."

Don opened the top drawer to the nightstand and grinned, and I blushed from embarrassment.  I had forgotten that in the top drawer of my nightstand was a box of condoms and a small bottle of sexual lubricant.  The condoms, because Travis never brought them in hopes of us having sex without a condom, and the lubricant was because sometimes I had to put some on his penis because I would not always get wet enough in my private area when my boyfriend first entered me and it hurt a little at the beginning.  Maybe I did not forget they were in the drawer; maybe subconsciously I wanted Don to see them, but I was embarrassed regardless.

Don did not say a word and handed me the first tee-shirt he picked up and the shorts.  The tee-shirt was just a plan purple tank top that I knew would do well in covering my body.  All the tee-shirts in that drawer were shirts I slept in and were oversized for me.  The shorts he gave me were a pair of cotton, crimson athletic shorts with my high school logo in the bottom right corner.  I knew they would be short and tight around my butt, but they would cover me.

“Advert your eyes, please."  I slipped the shirt on after Don turned his head and then still with my throw blanket covering me, I wiggled into my shorts. The tee-shirt came down to about three inches above my knees and when I stood up I felt less exposed.

Don sat back on the edge of the bed as I walked to the bathroom and I knew his eyes were focused on my butt so I grinned mischievously and stretched with my arms above my head.  I felt the shirttail ride halfway up my butt and smiled because I knew Don's eyes would focus on my butt.  Yeah, okay, I can be a tease.

After I peed I touched up my lipstick and even applied clear lip gloss to make my lips shiny.  I liked my mouth and lips.  They were very kissable and full.  I ran my hand through my hair and walked back into the bedroom and found Don once again sitting on the edge of the bed.  I wished I had a chair in my room where I could sit but since I didn't, I sat on the bed also but kept my distance from the older man.  I did cross my legs and smiled when I noticed his eyes look at them.  He did not hide his glance at my legs or look away like a gentleman should have.  I flipped my hair and smiled at him.

“So what was my father really like back in college?  And I heard the story about how they met a million times, but is it true my mother dumped you for him?”

Don laughed, “I would not call it that she dumped me.  We had only gone out on a date twice before the Ring Ceremony, but yes, she left me for him that night.  Was a deep cut to have the prettiest girl there leave me for another man.”

“Oh, I bet you were mad.”  I licked my lips, trying to be seductive.  “Are you still mad over it?”

"No, that was a long time ago.  At the time I was pissed at your father, but not your mother.  It was very hard to stay mad at your mother because she was so lovely and charming.  Plus, your father and I were never friends but he was a great cadet.  I even voted for him to be on the Honor Court."

I listened as he told stories about my father and his time at the Citadel, some I had heard often; others, I have not, but I pretended as if I heard them all for the first time.  I giggled at the appropriate moments, touched his arm “innocently”, asked questions, and basically flirted with him like I was on a first date with a boy my own age.  He asked about me and I told him about my friends, Travis, school, and other nonconsequential topics. 

During our conversation, I had moved to sit cross-legged on the bed and closer to him.  I did grab my pillow again and place it in my arms and over my waist; because of the way I was sitting, my shorts rode up my thighs and he could see more between my legs.  Don was a great storyteller and his voice really captured a person's attention.  He was very easy to talk to and a good listener even if he could be arrogant at times. 

During our conversation, I had become very sexually aroused and one of the few times I could remember I wished Travis was there so I could have sex with him.  I blushed deeply at one point when I looked down at Don's crotch and saw he had an erection; it was very noticeable under his swimsuit.  For a brief moment, I thought how great it would feel in my mouth; okay, truth be told it was more than a brief moment.  Don did nothing to hide his erection and actually brought his right leg up on the bed and turned his waist so the angle he was sitting at was facing me and I could see it better.  I quickly averted my eyes and felt my face flush.  I could feel my sex was damp and my nipples were poking against my tank top so I raised the pillow higher to cover my breasts also.  

"You are like your mother," Don said after a pause in our conversation.  "You are delightful and charming to talk to like she is."

“I am not,” I giggled.  I was actually very flattered to be compared to my mother.

“Yes, you are, and you know it, but also unlike her in other ways.”

“How am I unlike her?”

“Leadre was never a spoiled brat like you are, nor was she ever a snob, and she would never have treated her boyfriend the way you treat yours.”  Don grinned at me.

“I am not a brat and I am not a snob and…and what’s wrong with the way I treat Travis?”  I replied in indignation.

Don grinned, "You henpeck him and take advantage of how much he likes you."

“I do not,” I crossed my arms and pouted, “and how would you know anyway?  You have only seen us together for one day.”

Don smiled; I could tell he was amused by my pouting, "All it took was one afternoon to see the type of girl you are and that you expect him to do whatever you want.  You are a tease, Cecilia, you make that boy do whatever you want with promises of sex but most of the time you don’t follow through with it.  You use flirting, which you are very good at, I will give you that, and your sexy little body to give just a hint of what you can give a man…or boy, in the case with Travis…you tease them with it but never give it up.  You are the type of girl who gives up the pussy for a reward to your boyfriend or if you want something”

“I don’t think my relationship with my boyfriend is any of your business.”  I was getting a little mad; how dare he talk to me like that with such vulgarity!  I was also mad that Don was right.  I did henpeck Travis and I did control him and I did manipulate him with sex, my tantrums, and other ways.

"You are right, it is none of my business, but what is my business is how you are trying to manipulate me for some reason that I don't know what it is, but you have been using your flirting and your looks and body to try and manipulate me.  You need one of two things or maybe both.  You either need a good spanking or your brains fucked out."

“Oh, and I suppose you think you think you are the one who should give me that!”  I snapped back.

Don stood up and my eyes inadvertently looked at his crotch and he still had an erection.  I looked away quickly.  "No, like I said, you are too young for me, but you do need someone who is more experienced.  You have had what…one, maybe two sexual partners and both have been inexperienced boys?  Oh, don't look at me that way; I was a teenage boy once and I didn't know a damn thing about sex back then.  You need someone to teach you that sex can be fun and exciting and not just used to control a person."  Don gave me a mock salute, "Well, this was interesting, but I think I better leave now."

“Where are you going to sleep?” I asked.  I was mad at him but I really did not want him to leave.  I wanted to talk to him some more about what he said because even though he was being crude and arrogant and I was angry at him, I was also excited, and I wanted to continue the feeling of being excited. 

“I am going home.”  Don started to walk to the door.

“I don’t like sex,” I blurted out and then blushed.

Don turned and looked at me, “Excuse me?”

I moved to sit back on the edge of the bed.  “I said I don’t like sex, that’s why I don’t do it so much with Travis, who by the way is the only person I had sex with.  I mean, it feels nice and all but it’s not all that exciting and it’s messy and he sweats all over me and…I don’t know, it’s not like how some of my girlfriends say it is, that’s all.” 

Don laughed, which made me feel even more embarrassed.  “May I?” he asked as he pointed to the bed.  I nodded and he sat down next to me, very close next to me, and I did not move.

“Getting messy and sweaty is one of the fun things about sex,” Don started to lecture me.  “Is there anything about sex you do like?”  I bit my lower lip and nodded.  “What?” he asked.   I did not say anything but looked at my feet.  "Cecilia, you opened up the topic, so you can tell me."

I gave a sigh. “I…I like putting my mouth on a guy down there.”  I mumbled the words but he heard me.  “And…and I like talking about sex, that’s fun, and I like the kissing and the touching and I like seeing him naked, but when it comes down to the actual act I get all nervous and it just does not feel like it should, I guess.”  I was giving him too much information, but like Don said, I did open up the topic with my confession, and in for a penny, in for a pound.

“What about when you masturbate?  Do you enjoy that?”

 I looked up and into his eyes; God, he had beautiful eyes.  “Ewww, that’s gross.”  I giggled and he chuckled.

“Never?” 

"That's none of your business," I answered as I looked back down at my painted toenails.

“Most everyone does it, Cecilia.  I still do and I am forty-two years old.”

I blushed again at his admission. “I tried a few times and it felt pleasant but then my fingers got all messy and well…it’s gross down there when it gets all wet and…and…it’s just gross.”

Don laughed at me again and I felt like such an idiot telling him this.  “Sorry, was not laughing at you so much but I find your innocence rather charming.  What about your clit?  Does it feel good when you play with your clit?”

“I…yes, but then…well,” I sighed again and once again started to get very embarrassed.  “I get, well…it scares me…the feeling, and I stop.”

“I can understand that.  The first time I masturbated and came, it freaked me out a little.”  Don gently placed his hand on my chin and lifted my head to look at him.  “You need to learn to let your inhibitions go and learn to enjoy what is happening to your body.”

Don used his hand and brushed my hair behind my ears.  I once again bit my lower lip in nervousness.  His touch excited me.  “You…you can kiss me if you want,” I told him.

“Oh I can, can I?” he grinned at me in a teasing voice.

I closed my eyes and even puckered my lips as I nodded, but his kiss never came.  I opened my eyes to see him staring at me intently, and again biting my lower lip, I looked away.

“If I kiss you, it will go further than that.  It won’t stop at just a kiss, so you had better be sure this is what you want.”

I looked back into his eyes and then suddenly moved my head and kissed him on his lips.  It was actually more that I threw myself at him.  It was clumsy and I moved my body forward so hard I pushed him on his back and I got on top of him.  I did not know if I was going to have sex with him, but I sure wanted to kiss him and maybe even give him a blow job.  I really felt the desire to put my mouth on his penis and to taste his cum.  The desire to do so also made me feel wicked and dirty, giving two blow jobs in one day to two separate men.  I liked the feeling and it excited me. 

Don hesitated for a couple of seconds as my lips clumsily pressed against his, and then he responded.  I opened my mouth, he opened his, our tongues met and danced together, and I sucked his tongue deeper into my mouth.  I moved to straddle him as his arms wrapped around me and I felt his erection rubbing against my own sex and it felt nice, and I started moving my hips to rub against him some more.  His hands went under my tank top and his fingertips caressed up and down my back.  We kissed and made out like that for several minutes as I made soft whimpering moans into his mouth, or would gasp out when he started kissing my neck and ears as I lifted his tee-shirt and ran my hands over his hairy chest.  He sure was a great kisser.

“What do you want to do?” he whispered in my ear.

“Ohh, that feels nice…this…just keep kissing me.” 

Don pulled my head back by my hair, not hard and it did not hurt; it was gentle and sensual.  He looked into my eyes, “Now tell me what you really want to do, Cecilia.”  His voice was very commanding.

“I…I want you in my mouth.”  I gave a slight whimper as he pulled my hair harder; it hurt a little but also felt good and excited me. 

"No, tell me exactly what you want to do.  Let your inhibitions go."

I bit my lower lip and looked him in the eye. "I want to suck your cock,"  I admitted.

Don smiled, “Good.”  He gently pushed me off of him and sat upon the edge of the bed.  I lay on my side, looking at him.  “Get on the floor, on your knees, and suck my cock.”  Once again his voice was more authoritative than it had been during our previous conversation.  He was not asking me to give him a blow job but commanding me to do so.

I swallowed hard and really did not like the way he was now talking to me, and I was a little scared but also excited and did as he told me. 

Don spread his legs apart and I kneeled between them.  I wanted him to feel good, so I was going to take my time and enjoy it as well.  I leaned down and kissed the head of his penis through the fabric of the swimsuit while I ran my hand up and down the shaft.  My eyes kept their focus on the bulge under his blue swimsuit as I caressed and kissed his penis.  My breathing became heavy and I could feel my panties getting damp.  After several moments of me touching him and kissing the tip, Don placed his hand under my chin and made me look up at him.  

“That’s enough teasing.  Put those sexy lips around my dick,” Don told me, and I nodded. 

I pulled at the waistband of his swimsuit and he lifted his butt off the bed to help it slide down below his knees, and his penis jumped out and hit my chin.  I moved my head back and took a moment to look at it.  It was a little larger than Travis's and had a little more girth to it than my boyfriend's penis but it was not abnormally large.  I would have guessed it was about almost eight inches long and I thought it was sexy.  I thought the male sex organ, in general, was sexy but Don's more so than Travis's because the head of his penis was large and bulbous and larger around than his shaft. 

I looked up at Don's face, gently took his penis in my hand, parted my lips, lowered my head, and took him in my mouth.

 

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