My First Taste

My First Taste -- Ch.02

After that first night when my mom's friend, 'Aunt' Diane, caught me at the house watching a soft-core movie while my parents were away, I felt a range of emotions. I only recently turned eighteen. I was home alone for the first time, as my parents left their only son behind for a two-week cruise in Europe. I had that feeling of being a grown-up without all the responsibilities of one. I only had to water the plants, feed the cat, and clean up after myself.

Funny thing, that. It was Diane -- twenty years older than me -- that really taught me how to clean up after myself. She had guided me on how to jerk off. I'd never done that before -- pathetic, I know -- and then invited me to eat my cum. I played that memory constantly in the morning after. Her hands, coated with my spunk, slid into my mouth. Her gentle encouragement to lick.

Fuck, I was hard again and wanting more. I didn't have friends to brag about my sexual experiences. I had one close friend, but there was no way I would tell him that this older woman had done with me. She clearly enjoyed the power of it, and I... I felt special. And even though it was my first real sexual experience, I couldn't brag about in the locker room. Not that I spent much time in one, now that I was out of high school. They were never fun places for me because guys teased me about my shriveled dick.

Still, Diane said mine was 'quite sufficient.' Later that night, when she saw it finally return to its flaccid size, and my embarrassment by it, she tutted and said, "Oh, some of us love a grower. There's nothing better than feeling a man expand from a morsel to a mouthful."

In the years since, I've learned the truth of that statement, along with the value of a cock small enough when flaccid to fit in a cage, and the torment of feeling the steel walls close in around it. But back then, I was naïve and Diane was my guide.

It didn't occur to me at first that feeding me my cum washerkink. I was still in that frame of mind that everything revolved around me -- even my submission. I thought she was showing me whatIliked. In retrospect, why would she spend so much time with it if it wasn't something she also enjoyed?

When she left last night, she made me promise I wouldn't jerk off without her, that I couldn't cum without her permission. I granted it eagerly, but now that it was morning and my cock ached again for release, I regretted my hasty promise. I sat on the couch in the living room wearing just my bathrobe and scrolling my phone while the TV played on mute. My hand kept straying down, running lightly along my hard-on.

Suddenly, my phone rang -- the caller ID showed Aunt Diane's image -- and I pulled my hand away like she had caught me. Her picture smiled, crinkling her intense blue eyes at the corners. I counted the spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose. And her loose auburn hair flowed around her shoulders. Last night, she had it clipped up in a loose bun. I kissed those lips, but with her mouth full of my spunk.

Trembling, I tapped the screen to answer.

"Took you long enough, Matt. You weren't being naughty, were you?"

"No, ma'am." I said, cringing at my formality.

"Be honest."

"I was just touching." Why couldn't I sound more in control, sexier?

"Is my cock stiff and sore?"

"No. Just stiff." I smiled at my wordplay.

"I hope you haven't eaten anything without me."

"No, ma'am, but it's been hard."

She laughed. "That's what I like to hear. Go ahead and touch it."

"OK," I said, lightly stroking myself. Hearing her voice brought it all back: the feeling of doing something exciting and new, along with the risk of being caught, and finally the transgressiveness of the act, an older woman controlling me. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears.

"Put me on speaker," she said.

"You are."

"Good. Where are you?"

"On the couch."

"Scene of the crime, eh?"

"Yes, ma'am." I chuckled.

"Lay back and listen."

I followed her instructions, pulling my robe apart to expose my slender, nude body. My cock stood up and twitched in excitement. I felt the pleasure of tightening my pelvic muscles to bob it up and back. My balls were already pulling up tight against my shaft.

"I'm ready," I said.

"Tell me what you want, Matt."

"Whatever you want, Diane."

"Well, Matt. After last night, you know what you want, so whatIwant is for you to ask me for it."

My chest felt tight. With the phone right next to my ear. I could hear her breathing. Her soft voice flowed like silk dragged over the back of her tongue. I swallowed hard. I knew.

"Please," I said. "I want to come."

She laughed. "Duh. Matt, tell me."

"I want you to..."

"Nope. No, Matt. You want to what?"

I sighed. My breaths were short and tight. Just the thought of saying it was putting me close to coming. "If I say it, I might... explode."

"Mm. Maybe you don't need to control yourself. Maybe that's a woman's job."

"Shit, Diane." Her calling me "her man" felt like a dream come true.

"I'll teach you control, eventually, but today I just want you to let go. Women like to hear their men weak with desire. I want you to moan and grunt like an animal who has to get off."

I moaned. I couldn't help it.

"That's a good boy. Now lick your hand. Make it nice and wet."

"Yes, ma'am." My mouth was so watery, spit ran down my neck. I finally just turned my face to the side and held my hand next to my mouth to let it fill. I poured it over my cock. "OK, I said. It's very slick."

"Move your hand up and down -- slowly. I want to hear it squishing."

"Fuck, you sound so sexy," I said. "I feel like I'm going to lose it."

"Oh, you will. I just want you to tell me what you need."

I knew better than to say only that I wanted to come. "I want to... taste it."

"Taste? You did more than taste last night, didn't you?"

"Y-yes."

"Then tell me."

"I want... I need to... eat it." I groaned as the words left my mouth.

"Yes, that's it. You need to eat what, Matt?"

"I need to eat mycum." The tension in my voice on the word, the desire for that, the need to admit it aloud to her, that alone made me shake.

"Does my good boy deserve it?"

"I've been good. I promise."

"You didn't jerk off and eat a bunch already without me, did you?"

"No, please. I..."

"I what?"

"I... wanted to... I thought about it so much."

"That's right, Matt. I just knew you were a perfect little cum slut for me. In the cold light of day, sometimes they feel ashamed. Sometimes they run away, but not you, Matt. You love cum, don't you?"

I let a squeak out of the back of my throat.

"Mm. I'll take that whimper as a yes, Matt."

I couldn't help it. I did. I just wanted to eat it. I wanted to repeat the thrill of what she'd done with me last night. I'd gone from a lonely boy that didn't even jerk off to a submissive one begging to eat his cum in just one day.

She said, "The longer you wait, the more there is, Matt."

I groaned. "No, please. I'm ready. I want it now."

"I wonder, Matt. If you only like it fresh like this, or..."

I grunted. "Or what?" I thought, but I couldn't form words.

"Or maybe suck it out of my freshly fucked cunt."

I cried out. I exploded. I sprayed cum all over my belly and chest. I was barely stroking, hoping she would make me beg, but those last words -- just the words -- made me lose control. I'd never even seen a pussy up close, let alone known what a freshly fucked pussy looked like. (Now, it's the only way I see them, the only time I taste them. I've practically forgotten what pussy tastes like without a load or more of spunk.)

"Good boy," she said. "You've made yourself a treat, I bet. Describe it for me?"

Gasping, I opened my eyes to survey the damage. "It... It's all over me. It's dripping off my hip onto my robe. It's all over my hand. I feel some running down my neck."

"Yes. Yes. Now eat it up while I play with myself. I want to hear you lick and swallow."

I loudly sucked and slurped. Her moans and her frantic squishing sounds were all the encouragement I needed. I swallowed all the liquid I could. It was sweet and copious. (I wish I had that volume now.) I used my pinky like a squeegee, scooping up palmfuls I dripped into my open mouth, slurping my wet fingers. I moaned like I was sipping fine wine. I tried to get it all.

I murmured words to return the favor, things like, "Mm. It's so good. Thank you." I heard her crying out as she cursed and shouted, "Eat it! Suck it."

Then she came. I realized then that I hadn't tried to make her come last night. I only cared about myself. The sounds she made over the phone carved themselves into my memory.

"Oh, my God, Diane," I whispered. "I want to make you scream like that."

"You just did, Matt. But don't worry. Next time I'm moaning right into your ear, while you pump your cock inside me."

"Holy shit," I said. "When?"

She laughed and hung up the phone.

I waited all day for a word from her. I hoped she would torture me all day. In a way, her silence did. I couldn't concentrate on my few chores, although doing them distracted for a bit. It would shock my parents to know that their son took care of the household only because he needed to keep his hands off his dick. In those days, erections were frequent and long-lasting. I think I was hard most of the day. I stayed in my briefs the whole time, recreating what I wore when Diane discovered me playing with myself in the living room. Like last night, a growing wet spot soaked the front of my briefs where my cock pressed out the material. The tight cloth felt like a binding. It's probably the first hint of my desire to be locked away.

I ate my dinner alone, staring down at the soaked cloth, fighting the desire to take them off and suckle the fabric. I shook my head to clear such a filthy thought.

I heard the door open, followed by my lady's voice. "Where's my little cum slut?"

I practically ran into the front room.

Diane stood by the open door. She looked me up and down.

"Oh, good. I'm glad you're alone. I shouted, not thinking you might have a guest over. It would beterribleif you had a girlfriend here."

I shook my head. My hands trembled. Today, she wore a white tank top and tight blue jeans. She was braless and her erect nipples showed clearly through the thin fabric. Her breasts were small and high, and seeing the outline, I pursed my lips. I only wish I had the courage. She turned to close the door. Her round ass stretched the denim. Two dimples winked above her beltline.

She turned back and caught me looking. "You like?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She walked toward me. "I can't decide which I like better: Diane or ma'am. Normally, I'd hate ma'am, but I like the tone of your voice when you say it to me." She stood close to me now, her breath was warm on my cheek.

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, my voice shaky and weak.

"So, no regrets about what happened last night?"

"No, ma'am. It was the best thing ever."

She gazed down. "And you're thinking about it now? What I might ask of you?"

"It's all I can think about."

"I bet you're ready to explode."

I gulped and nodded, staring at her sandaled feet.

She laughed. "Turn around then."

I did and she hugged me from behind. Her breasts pressed warmly against my back. Her hips seemed to cradle my ass as she slid her arms around my waist and brought her hands down to my cock.

"You've soaked your underwear, my little cum eater."

"Mm hmm."

"I think it's best to get one of these out of the way, don't you?" She slid her hands into my briefs and pulled them down under my balls. My cock stood up straight and straining as the tight material forced my balls out and down. I flinched to cover myself but my arms were under hers. "That's so pretty," she said. "I've been thinking about this all day too at work. I had to rush off to the ladies' room to make myself cum."

I groaned. She thought about me! My ears buzzed with the heat of my blush. She grabbed the head of my cock and ran her thumb around the head, dripping with that clear liquid.

"Cup your hands," she said.

"Oh, fuck, Diane." I put my hands under my cock.

"Don't miss any. This won't take but a sec-"

But I was already spurting into my open hands. She purred into my ear as we both watched spurt after spurt puddle in my cupped palms. She kept squeezing from the base to the tip, working out every bit. My knees were weak, so I leaned back against her for support.

"God, that's beautiful," she said as the last drop filled my palms. Some ran down my wrist. I could feel some slipping through my fingers. She whispered, "Do you still want it now that you've come? Do you want to eat it for me?"

I looked at the slippery mess. It's true that pending my orgasm, I would have said yes to anything. It looked overwhelming. I stood there with her hand on my shrinking cock, dribbling down into the thinning pool of spunk. Some of it had clumped together. More had thinned. Each second I waited, it would cool. But there was no question now. It pleased her to see me do it, and that's all I wanted.

"Please," I said.

"Eat," she said, nudging my hands.

I brought them up and lowered my face into my palms. I licked the cum from my wrists and then stuck my tongue into the pool of cum and slurped loudly.

"Fuck, yes," she murmured.

I swallowed and lapped like a puppy on a hot day. This was my treat. I felt another shudder of pleasure run through me. It was like my first taste of ice cream. Looking back, I know this is when the reward signal was confirmed. Each time I ate for her, the desire deepened. Eating became its own reward. Her hot breath on my neck. Her soft murmurs blended in with the sound of my licking and sucking.

As I finished, she pulled me closer to her. Her lips pressed against the side of my neck. She hugged me tight, and I felt suddenly warm all over, like she had draped a blanket around me. I leaned back into her as if I could wear her like a coat. Finally, she squeezed me one more time and released me, turning me toward her. She kissed me then. Her tongue played in my mouth. When she pulled away, she licked her lips.

"You're just so sweet," she said.

I shook my head. She smirked. I shivered.

I reached down to my underwear to pull them back over me, but she stopped me with a shake of her head.

That feeling was enough to stop my cock's retreat.

She played with it, gently.

"How many girls have you fucked with this before me, Matt?"

My heart froze. None. No girl had even touched it. I had kissed a few times on dates. I'd even been able to get a hand inside a girl's blouse in the car after. But I hadn't tried for more.

"Seriously?" she said.

My skin flushed again. I shook my head.

"Fuck." She stepped back. She looked away. I immediately reached for my underwear again, but she put a hand up. She turned back to me. "I can't take your virginity, Matt."

"But--"

"No." She shook her head. In her eyes, I couldn't read whether she felt pity or disappointment. But she softened and stepped back to me. "You need a girl your own age."

I shook my head.

"A boy then?"

"No," I said. "I want you!"

She stroked my cheek. "I want you too, Matt. And I'll have you. But only after."

"What do you mean? I don't want anyone else."

She smiled, and it really was pitying this time. "Matt, Matt. It will be OK. I promise. But I can't be your first time. I just can't."

"But what is this?" I threw my hands down, palms crackling with drying cum, standing in front of her with tears heating my eyes, naked except for my briefs strapping under my balls and now flaccid penis.

She leaned her forehead against mine. I gulped air, trying to calm down.

"This," she said softly, "Is a promise of things... to come."

I wanted to push her away, tell her to leave. I leaned my forehead into hers. I begged my tears not to fall between us.

She said, "We can still play... like we have. I can show you things that will help. This is just my boundary, Matt. I know it doesn't make sense, but I think it will be important to you later."

I pressed my head harder into hers.

"Do you trust me?" she said.

I stopped pressing my head. I felt my hot breaths in my nostrils. I nodded.

"OK, then. OK." She stroked the back of my head. She lifted her face and kissed my forehead. "Would you like to see me?"

I looked up at her. The blue of her eyes shone. Her eyebrows softly sloping down in care. I nodded.

She said, "I'll show you everything. You will be the best lover. The girls won't believe their luck."

I nodded. The disappointment of losing something I never even imagined having suddenly eclipsed by the thought of seeing Diane. Seeing all of Diane.

"Pull up my shirt, Matt." She nodded when I hesitated.

Hands shaking, I let the backs of my fingers slide against the smooth skin of her belly, under the hem of her tee. I pulled it up a bit and quickly checked her eyes.

"Take it all in, Matt," she said.

As her pale skin opened up to me and each new freckle appeared -- a few across her belly button, some on her sides, a sprinkle against her ribs -- I wanted to kiss each one. The curtain rose bit by bit. There was the deep curve of her breasts and the shadow below, the long wait for her nipples to appear, tight, pink and standing high. She guided her arms up and to the side, helping me to pull the cloth up and away from her face. At last, she let the tee drop to her side. She picked up my right hand and guided it to her left breast. I stepped closer and felt the tip of my cock bump against her hip.

She showed me how to cup and caress. She guided me on how firmly to tug and pull on her nipples.

"I like mine twisted a little," she said. "Each girl is different. And it may change depending on her excitement or even the time of month. Start light, and then just ask, and especially... listen." She hummed lightly as I tried the twist. "That's it. You can feel my body. If you pay attention, she will tell you everything you need."

I looked down at them. My first breasts. "May I?"

"Yes."

I leaned down and kissed the other breast. I sucked the nipple. "Is that OK?"

"Yes."

"Should I do more?"

"Nip it. A little."

She squirmed as I did. I could have spent the evening just there, feeling her body wriggle. Hearing her soft murmurs and encouragement. But she moved her hands down to her jeans and unbuttoned them. She lowered the zipper. She pulled the fly open. I saw the soft fabric of her underwear -- light blue cotton with a pattern of yellow wildflowers. She guided my hands to her hips and I tugged the jeans down over them. The underwear pulled down slightly on one side, exposing the bone of her hip. I dropped to my knees and kissed the space.

She sighed through pursed lips. I traced the bone with my tongue. She put her hand on top of my head, gripping my hair. I pulled the jeans down her legs. She kicked off her sandals and let me free each leg before flicking her jeans to the side.

Her underwear was at an angle now. A wisp of her light brown pubic hair poked above one side. A little gap at the crotch exposed a smooth fold against her thigh. At the center, the cloth was trapped in a long vee with a dark oval.

"Are you?" I said, looking up at her.

"Very," she said with a tremble.

I pulled her underwear down, peeling down to see my first. I'd seen photos. Friends had shared pics. I'd seen guys in the locker room, bragging about a girl's hot, wet slit. But this was real. The outer folds were free of hair. She had the patch on top. I ran my fingers through it. Between the outer folds, her inner lips were shiny and pink. I inhaled deeply. Her scent was bright and earthy and I couldn't stop myself. I pressed my mouth against her and slipped my tongue between those pink folds.