My First Taste

My First Taste

I know where it started. And no experience since has matched the intensity of the that time in my life despite all the ways I've literally twisted my body to recreate that feeling. That's OK, because part of my lifestyle is the constant denial of pleasure, literally locking my cock away. The hope always is that even though the acts I commit to now are more complex, the feeling of that first encounter with submission and humiliation at the behest of dominant woman are hopeless to recreate. She owns me still, even though she has long been out of my life.

If my parents had known about my future, they never would have suggested her. But they were looking out for me, although I had recently turned eighteen and was sure I didn't need anyone to check in. They celebrated my liberation becoming theirs by going on an extended cruise touring coastal European cities, leaving me alone.

Having the house to myself, I fantasized about parties and having girls over, but the fact was I had few friends, was too timid with girls, and little idea what to do with either. Anxious and lonely, afraid to break the rules, I made no plans and spent the first day alone in our house lying about in my underwear, watching movies. Feeling naughty, I put on an R-rated film with lots of nudity. That's the extent of my rebellion.

When the front door opened, though, I shot up off the couch and ran back against the wall, looking for something to grab and use as a weapon. My parents hadn't warned me (perhaps on purpose) but that's how she found me, shaking and scared, with my eyes wild and a huge boner tenting my white briefs. On the giant screen, a man and woman were simulating sex, but of course, it was pretty tame. Still, the sounds of the actress's moans of pleasure and the light jazz film score made it all worse. I didn't even think to cover my boner because I was still looking for a way to defend myself against the intruder.

Diane. Mom's friend.

"What the...?" was my only sound, the brazen f-word choked off in my natural disinclination to offend.

"Holy shit, kid," Diane said. "Relax. I guess your mom didn't warn you I would check in."

I shook my head.

"I'd ask if you're up to no good, but this is seriously sad," she said, shaking her head and laughing.

I laughed too, realizing how stupid I looked and feeling ashamed at once by my overreaction to the threat of Diane. She was maybe 38 then. Twenty years my senior. Was there a power imbalance? Indeed. Did I mind? Not at all. Only now do I think maybe you shouldn't be called an adult until you're 25 and brain development is more or less complete. Back then, I didn't care. Diane had been the fuel for many of my wet dreams. I called her Aunt Diane out of respect, but she was simply a friend of Mom's. She was tall. Her legs looked long in any outfit she wore. Today, it was a simple purple denim skirt and a black tee. Her long auburn hair, curly and thick, was pulled back in a messy bun held by a large clip. She kicked off her sandals and, closing the door behind her, said, "I suppose the neighbors don't need to see that."

That's when I realized she was looking at my erection. I dropped my hands.

"Don't bother, Matty. Although, now that I've seen it, I think I need to call you Matt."

I'd never seen that expression on her face before. In hindsight, it was probably the first time she truly regarded me as anything other than her friend's son -- like furniture in the room. But at the moment, I did not know what she meant. I felt mortified. Aunt Diane had caught me excited by a dirty movie, like a little perv.

"Oh, relax, Matt. Come hug me."

I froze in place. I hadn't moved from my spot against the wall, but I was shaking. She nodded her head and opened her arms. I walked over, my erection hopelessly locked in full staff mode. I could rarely get it down in those days. But I found it impossible to refuse her request. Her eyes -- sharp blue set in a sea of freckles across her cheeks -- held an expression both impassive and unrelenting. As I tucked my arms under hers and leaned my head against her shoulder, I tried to keep my hips away, but she put her hands around my hips and pulled me in.

"That's a good boy, Matt. Don't worry about your cock poking my belly. It's a nice one. No need to be ashamed of it."

The words burned my ears, suddenly hot with shame. I'd never called it a 'cock' and I'd certainly never heard Diane use that word. And now I felt it rock hard against her stomach. She laughed and pulled the hug tighter, drawing me against her. I felt the need to press into her belly. It felt so good to grind that I suddenly broke away and backed off.

"Oh, goodness, Matt. Were you about to burst?" Her eyes crinkled with amusement.

"I... I'm sorry. So, sorry, Aunt--"

"Just Diane, Matt. Certainly, we can both address each other as adults now that we've shared this special moment." I noticed a dark spot on her skirt that I realized was from my rubbing. I trembled with embarrassment until she laughed at my discomfort. "Oh, Matt. Sit down."

I sat down on the couch and stared at the floor. The sounds from the TV of the actress's orgasm echoed in the quiet between Diane and me.

She said, "Maybe that's not helping."

Sheepishly, I grabbed the remote and muted the TV. Then, seeing the couple now filmed from in front with the man behind and the actress's large breasts swaying forward and back with the rutting rhythm, I fumbled until I could turn the TV off altogether.

The amusement in Diane's expression had me red and flustered.

"Shall we reset, Matt?"

I nodded.

"So," Diane said, "Your mom asked me to check in on you, which I have. She was a little worried you might get up to mischief while they were away, which is probably why she didn't bother to tell you. And that is unfortunate for you, but I must say, incredibly sad for me. I was sure I'd have to break up some beer bash or find you making out by the pool with a girlfriend, but I didn't expect this." She gestured to me, but I could only imagine she meant specifically my boner, standing straight up from my lap like a candlestick on a table -- hot and nearly melting all over the tablecloth.

"I- I don't have a girlfriend," I said.

She shook her head. "Clearly." She sucked her teeth in pity. "Why not? You're quite fit and that..." she nodded at the offending member. "That is quite sufficient, I must say." Adding with a laugh, "And persistent."

I had to laugh too. It was ridiculously steadfast. Something in her casual address made me feel less awkward. To her, it was acockandsufficient. Pride swelled in me, nearly making me forget I had only moments before tried to hump her belly during our hug. I hoped she wouldn't notice the spot on her skirt, so I tried not to look at it.

"I'm sorry, Diane," I said and with a sudden panic. "Please don't tell."

She laughed. "Oh, Matt. This looks worse for me than it does for you." She crossed her legs. My eyes darted to the dance of shadows within her skirt and her smooth, tan skin of her thighs slid against each other. She offered in a low voice, "Don't you think it looks bad that I stayed and chatted with my friend's nearly naked son, while he sported a... raging hard on?" Her mouth seemed to relish the word, raging. "Instead of say, telling him to go upstairs and put on some clothes?"

Panicked, I got up to do just that, realizing it's what I should have done myself, but she said, "Sit."

I dropped, and she smiled. "Good boy." Her eyes narrowed, and she grinned.

That's when I shivered. My body shook and my cock twitched. She leaned back and uncrossed her legs, catching my eyes flicking to her skirt. She ran her thumb against the dark spot. She looked at me through half-lidded eyes and bit her lip.

I've played that moment back in my head thousands of times. Jerked off to this one moment. Decision. That was the moment she knew she had me. I had told her everything she needed to know about me to feel confident about her next choice. Maybe she was lonely. Maybe she just couldn't help herself. But without ever saying it, leaning back in that chair, with a bite of her lip, she ate me whole.

"Pull those down, Matt." She said, gesturing to me with an outstretched toe.

Now it was my choice. Although it was no choice at all. I could not even imagine refusing her, even though I felt vulnerable, scared, and dirty. But my heart also pounded with the desire to do what she asked. I didn't think about fucking her, or eating her out, having her suck me off, or riding my cock. Things I only heard from other boys bragging. I just wanted to show her. I needed to simply show her my quite sufficient cock, and nothing more.

The next moment etched in my memory is the sideways grin she rewarded me with as I grabbed the band of my underwear. Victory. She had conquered me already. The rest were spoils of a battle I never stood a chance in. I paused for a moment as hot shame spread over my cheeks, seeing the thick sticky circle spreading over the tented spot in my underwear. My cock's near constant drooling had always embarrassed me.

I slid my briefs down quickly, hoping she hadn't seen the wet spot, but how could she miss it? And as my cock popped back up and quivered, the clear fluid ran down, tickling the whole length of my cock. I quickly wiped it with my thumb to keep it from dripping onto the couch.

Diane stared at me. She let me bask in her casual gaze. "It is a pretty thing, Matt. You shouldn't be ashamed of it. Some young girl would ride that like a pony at Christmas, but I'm not a young girl."

"You... you're so..."

"Don't finish that thought, Matt. What I'm saying is that I'm not twenty and horny for a ride. I have different tastes, Matt, which you will soon learn..." She sighed. "...to love."

I shivered again. I wanted whatever she wanted. But I found it hard to imagine a girl riding me. I couldn't believe they would want me, and I did not know what to do with them. The actor in the movie had seemed so confident in the way he took the actress -- how he turned her over and confidently thrust into her. I did not know then how I would even find it. I'd heard guys joke about boys who tried to put it in the wrong hole. I couldn't even watch porn, not without fear of my parents tracking my web activity. I had to be the most naïve boy my age ever. At least in my mind. But I wanted to learn to love what Diane wanted me to do.

"Taste it," she said.

"Huh?"

"Have you never tried?"

She gestured to my thumb, still collecting the fluid draining down my cock. I shook my head. The fear in my eyes seemed to convince her of her course.

"Put your thumb. In your mouth," she said. She ran her fingers over her t-shirt. I saw the outline of her nipples pushing up through the soft cloth. This excited her. I wanted to please her more. Not daring to break eye contact, I raised my hand and pushed my sticky thumb in my mouth, closing my lips around it.

"Suck," she said.

I drew the liquid coating my thumb into my mouth. My tastebuds seemed to burst alive. It was sweet and slick. I moaned a little, which seemed to please Diane. She pinched and twisted her left nipple and hummed a little in pleasure. With that encouragement, I pulled out the thumb. She nodded down, and I moved my hand back to gather more. She rewarded me with that grin.

"Tasty, right?" she said. "You've never?"

I shook my head. I probably didn't know enough to be disgusted by tasting myself. She seemed casual about it, like it was perfectly natural, which eased my mind.

"If I were a boy and had my own supplyat hand, I'd have it breakfast, lunch, and dinner with snacks in between."

She must have seen my face blanch. The thought of her tasting it shook me more than what she said next.

"Too gay? No, Matt. Don't worry. You're more a man to me in this moment than any of your stud friends, ruthlessly rutting and nutting, leaving their girls disappointed but full. No, I think you'd be a tender lover who makes his woman cum, and never leaves a mess behind for her to clean up. I bet you even wash your little cum rag when you jerk off, so your mom never has to find a crusty washcloth."

The thought turned my stomach.

"I... I don't..."

"Don't what?" Diane said. Then she sat up, concerned. "You mean jerk off? You never jerk off?" She made the gesture with her hand, and I flinched at it, as if she had just come all over my chest.

I shook my head, full of shame once again. I hadn't. I couldn't. It was wrong.

"Oh, my poor boy! All that meat and you don't even play with it?"

Caught between the humiliation of imagining the act and the shame of disappointing her, my eyes welled up. I blinked back the hot tears.

Seeing that, she shushed me and moved over to me on her hands and knees. She took my hands in hers. She looked me in the eye. She said, "Don't worry, Matt. I'll show you." She guided my hands to my cock. "It will be wonderful. You'll see."

She leaned forward with her face above my cock, opened her mouth, and extended her tongue. A long stream of saliva ran out and over the head of my cock. My eyes went wide with shock and desire. It was the closest any woman had ever been to my privates, and it seemed so casually decadent that I almost came at the sight.

Then locking her eyes with mine, she gently guided my hands up and down my shaft, getting them slippery in the spit and the drool from my cock. The sensation was unworldly. My breath caught in my throat.

"When you feel it," she said. "Tell me."

I shook my head.

"When you feel you're going to explode."

I nodded. Many mornings I had woken up from a wet dream, and so I knew the sensation, still I wasn't sure how it would feel when awake, but I was looking forward to finding out.

My hands shaking, I tried to go faster, but she kept my hands slow. When I tried to squeeze harder, she held my hands back. She kept guiding me, holding me back, the need kept building, and each time I tried for more, she stopped me.

And then I felt the crest. "Oh," I said, and she instantly grabbed my cock at the base with one hand, and circled her thumb and finger above my balls, pulling them down. I shook and my cock twitched. I felt the sense of tingling going up my spine but stopping suddenly. "Oh, fuck, oh fuck," I cried.

"Yes, that's it. Good boy," she cooed. "Let me control it. You don't get to come yet."

I whimpered, "Please."

"Yes, yes. Say, please. Keep saying please."

I repeated it over and over while she took control. Twice more I felt I was going to explode, and she stopped it. I kept whispering, "I need it. I need it."

She said, "Beg me. Keep begging me to come."

"Oh, my god, please, Diane. I can't handle any more. Please!"

"Make me a promise, Matt."

"Yes! Yes! Anything."

"IfI let you come."

"Anything."

"Eat it. Eat it all."

I froze. I looked at her, caught between my panic and my desire. I had only ever seen cum on my sheets in the morning, sticky and cold. But it tasted good, didn't it? Hadn't I already tasted it for her? Seen her grin at the act of depravity? I nodded, gasping with urgency.

"Every fucking drop?" she said.

"Yes. Yes... ma'am. All of it."

"Good..." She stroked me rapidly. "...boy!"

I screamed as I felt it.. my first waking orgasm. The release was almost painful in the delay -- both this far in life and in the minutes tonight held suffering in her hands. My head fell back, and I flooded out, not caring at all where or how the spunk flew. When I caught my breath and opened my eyes, letting the color return to my vision, I couldn't believe what I saw.

Spurts crossed her cheek and dripped off her chin. Her hands were coated and slimy with white, thick sheets like a glazed donut. And it spattered me from my neck to my belly with thickening ropes, sliding down toward my crotch.

"I'm so sor--," but she didn't give me a moment to think. She put her dripping hand to my mouth, stopping my protest, smearing my lips with the warm goo.

"Lick," she said.

I tentatively stretched my tongue, tasting the mess. I felt queasy at first, but seeing the desire in her eyes as she eagerly watching my tongue snake into my spunk, I felt the urgent need to please her. I sucked. I slurped.

"Yes, fuck yes," she said.

It was thicker, saltier than that first thin, golden sample. But it felt like a door opened in my mind at that moment. All I wanted to do was eat for her. The excitement of pleasing her, being dirty for her. My young cock hadn't fully deflated. Her coos and encouragement drove me into a frenzy. I eagerly accepted each fingerful from her as she wiped my chest clean, then my belly, scooping up copious puddles from around my cock, fully hard again. Last, she drew her face close, lifting her chin to let me lick the mess about to splash on her shirt. I cleaned her cheek and finally she pressed her lips to mine. I felt her tongue slip in and search in my mouth for the lingering flavor of all my cum. I had swallowed so much.

Kissing her locked it all in. My mind would never be the same.

"So much cum," she said. "And you ate it all up for me."

I nodded.

She said, "You're still hard." She looked down and bit her lip again. Fuck, I loved that. "Want to fill my mouth?"

I groaned.

"I'll do it," she said, "If..."

"Yes, please."

That grin. She swallowed my cock in one go. I heard her soft gag as my cock hit the back of her throat. She moaned, and the vibration ran through me like a hot wire. I'd felt nothing before like a soft, wet mouth around my cock. I hadn't even dreamed of it. Soon, she let me thrust up into her face, careful to pull back when I got too excited. But I couldn't help myself. I'd never even fucked my own hand before today and now this beautiful woman was letting me hump her face, hoping to make me come in her mouth, stretched tight around my cock. It didn't take long before I was screaming again, spurting in her mouth. Hopelessly addicted already to the power she held over me.

She pulled up in one long, lingering pull from my cock with a soft pop, sealing her lips closed. I could see the sticky white glossing over her lips, leaking out of the corner of her mouth, grinning again. Her eyes shone with excitement as she planted her lips again on my lips, pressing her tongue into me, guiding my head back as she let my cum spill out of her mouth into mine, pooling at the back of my throat. I almost choked on the volume.

She pulled back and, with a finger on my chin, she held my mouth closed for her as she looked me in the eye.

"Show me," she whispered, relaxing her finger.

I opened my mouth, practically gargling my cum.

"Are you my good boy cum slut?"

"Mm hmm." The words meant nothing yet, but the tone in her voice compelled me, like I'd given her flowers on her birthday.

"Yes." She nodded. "You are my special boy who eats his cum for me. You'll do it anytime I say. You'll do anything I say, won't you?"

"Mm hmm."

"Promise?"

"Ung, huh."

"We're going to have fun these next two weeks, aren't we, Matt?"

"Puuuhlz," I tried to form the word. I was lost. I was in love. I was in ecstasy. I would do anything she asked. I felt so dirty holding my mouth open, pooled with my spunk. But as she smiled lovingly, desirously down at me, licking her lips to taste my cum on them, I only wanted to please her. I couldn't even imagine her letting me fuck her. Her smile I would do anything for.

"Swallow," she said.

I did. Hook, line, and sinker.