My First Taste

In these past few days, Diane had transformed my whole sexual being. I was still awkward and shy, but now she had given me a purpose. Diane, who my mom asked to check on me while my parents were on vacation, had taught me so many lessons. Her experience, being twenty years older than my 18, and her patience had shown me how to please a woman. But she'd baked into those lessons a selfish desire. Diane had her own fetish: it turned her on when a man eats cum. Would I have wanted that, or learned to do it on my own? I'll never know for certain. I never asked her where her kink for it began. But I can say looking back all these years later, it's my favorite fetish. My current mistress is grateful too, for what Diane taught me. All the women who have benefited over the years from locking my cock up, cleaning their creampies, and other acts of delicious depravity, express their gratitude when I tell them the story of 'Aunt' Diane.

Tonight, I couldn't get to sleep. Diane didn't respond to my texts after she sent me the picture -- the one she took from inside the house showing Teresa and me having sex by the pool. We were both servers at the same restaurant and our date ended at my house. It was actually Diane's idea for me to take her out, so if Diane was upset, I didn't understand why.

I really wanted to jerk off now, especially with the excitement of losing my virginity. After not even touching myself for 18 years, Diane quickly got me used to having multiple orgasms a day. But no matter how much I begged Diane over text, she wouldn't respond. I stared at the picture of me eating my creampie out of Teresa by the pool, knowing that it was my first time in many ways. Diane had told me she wouldn't take my virginity, but once I'd lost it, she would have sex with me. I was desperate for her to keep her promise. But the silence filled my head with anxiety. She had been there in the house watching us. Why didn't she stay in hiding until Teresa had left? Did I displease her? Was Diane jealous of Teresa?

I loved Diane. Teresa was sexy and will always be a profound memory, but she became distant when our night ended. I feared it was because I'd cleaned my cum from her pussy. She wouldn't kiss me after. But she had come -- hard. Diane had taught me how to eat pussy well. And now, I sat in the darkness of my room, wondering what I could have done differently with either of them.

I stroked myself lightly. Even here, in the privacy of my room, I felt the need to obey. Diane said nothing but instinctively, I wanted her permission to jerk off. I wanted a palmful of cum to savor. But it wasn't as good if she wasn't watching. I thought about recording a video of myself doing it and sending it to her, but it felt like too real in a way. Only if she asked. Please, text me and ask, I thought, before I finally fell asleep.

The next day, I went to work at the restaurant. I knew I'd see Teresa there and it would be awkward. The place was slammed right away, so it was impossible to get a moment with her to check in. I kept looking at her to at least connect, but she always seemed to look somewhere else. I told myself I was being paranoid, but it felt different. She wasn't seeking me out either, which made me think she was actually avoiding me.

But others were looking at me. Looks that lingered a bit. I saw two cooks catch my eye as I picked up an order, then I heard laughing after I went out front. Then Carla, the server with brown hair, a round face, and wide mouth with the lip ring, passed me and gave me a little smirk. I knew she talked with the cooks a lot. It felt like the joke was on me.

That went on all shift until things quieted down, and I finally tracked Teresa down. Even near the end of the shift with her brown hair mussed and her skin shining from perspiration, she was sexy. The apron we all wore couldn't hide her round breasts I'd caressed last night.

"Is everything OK?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, squinting like it was a silly question. "It's all good."

"I... really liked our date last night."

"Me too. It was really nice."

Relief washed over me. I was making too big a deal of things. We're busy. Not everything is about me. I said, "Cool. Cool. So, I wondered if you'd like to maybe--"

She looked down. (Crap. Here it comes.)

She said, "It was really nice, Matty. But... I'm just not looking for a steady thing, you know?"

"Oh, sure," I said, instantly thinking my voice was too high and too loud. "Yeah, college and all."

"Right, you get it." She smiled as if we had only shared an ice cream cone at the malt shop. Pecking me on the cheek, she walked away. I watched her leave, ass swaying, knowing that last night I nestled my face between those two tan legs, tasting her luscious pussy, making her scream. Now I knew I'd creeped her out. She got off, but couldn't get it out of her head that I'd eaten cum. That was my first realization that Diane might be special. She loved when I did it. She rewarded me for it. But now I feared she might be the only one.

As shift ended, I went into the break room, opened my locker and saw someone had put a tart pan on the shelf. They filled it to overflowing with whipped cream. Some cream had dripped down the sides of the pan, puddling on the locker shelf. I heard laughter from the kitchen and, as I turned, I saw a couple of people duck back out of the doorway.

Teresa had told them! Not only had I creeped her out, but she'd told someone. And in a restaurant, if you tell one person, everyone knows. My face burned with shame. I blinked to keep from tearing up.

I looked at the whipped cream. Sunk in the center was a single cherry. I picked up the tart pan, ready to throw it into the trash car, but something inside me shifted from embarrassment to anger. They knew I'd lost my virginity too. I thought Teresa was a better person, but this was on her.

I grabbed a spoon, sat down at a table, and began eating the cream. I stared at the kitchen doorway, daring them to look. When one cook peeked around, he stopped laughing when he saw what I was doing. Deflated, he turned back inside. I heard laughter from others, but it wasn't as loud as earlier.

And just as I was about to scoop up the cherry, I jumped when a hand come over my shoulder and picked up the cherry. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Molly, the tall blonde server, pop the cherry in her mouth. She winked at me and said the first words she'd ever directed specifically to me in my entire time we'd worked together.

"Tasty, right?"

Without so much as a wink, she turned and went to her locker. In the swirl of air behind her, I caught the aroma of her perfume with under notes of perspiration. To this day, I associate that scent with kindness. She removed the apron that served as our uniform and I admired the heavy curve of her breasts under her blouse. She let me look over her smooth curve of her dark skirt -- shorter than regulation, but allowed (for reasons.) She turned to go without ever looking back, but knowing I'd stared at her the entire time. I waited for her to go before packing up my things to leave. I was grateful, but I would not push my luck by trying to talk to her.

I left the tart pan on the table. It wasn't my mess to clean up.

At home, I wandered around the house. Normally, I'd start a video game, but I was too distraught. I stripped down to my underwear and paced around the house. I hoped Diane would come over and interrupt me again like that first night. I kept replaying our encounters in my memory, which helped to keep me hard. I wanted her to 'catch me' again, hard and vulnerable. As the night wore on, I finally grabbed a bite for dinner -- leftovers (ironically) from the restaurant. Diane hadn't texted me and this was the latest she'd ever been. At last, I put on the TV and crashed on the couch.

I dreamed about being in the break room at work, and instead of the tart of whipped cream in my locker, they filled the tart pan with cum, and Teresa set in on the table in front of me and said, "Eat up." And the whole staff watched me scoop up spoonful after spoonful until Diane came in and said, "He likes it this way." She put the pan to my mouth and poured it in. I kept swallowing and swallowing.

I woke up to the sound of the key in the door.

High heels clacked on the floor. The door closed, and I caught Diane's perfume on the air that roiled in. I shook my head, still getting my bearings, and sat up. Diane stood in the dark entryway, wearing a dress backlit by the lights through the window from the street outside. She walked into the dim light of the room. Her dress was a deep green with a plunging neckline that barely covered her small breasts. I could see the outside curve of each and where her nipples pressed up against the silky fabric. The dress had a long slit, revealing her leg almost to the inner thigh.

Walking closer into the living room, the light shone on her freckled skin. She had made up her face with a darker eye, but I could see smudges in the fine laugh lines, and her lipstick had clearly worn off and was bleeding slightly over the edge of her smile. Her sideways grin melted me. She walked around the couch, my eyes tracing every inch of her. As she took in my appearance, she said, "What have you been up to, Matt?"

I realized my dick was still hard from the dream and the drama around her entrance was only making it worse. I put my hands down, but stopped when she shook her head. She pointed to the floor and then made a sweeping motion toward my crotch. I understood. I got up, pulled down my underwear and laid on the floor.

She stepped over me. "This will work perfectly," she said as her dress parted farther up her leg, nearly exposing her inner hip crease. "I made you a promise, Matt. And I'm..." She pulled her dress apart as she crouched down. "A woman of my word."

I couldn't speak. Was I still dreaming? With one hand on my chest for balance, she lowered her hips down over my crotch. She grabbed my cock and lined it up. I felt the heat of her and shivered. Slowly, she eased down. I felt little resistance. She was incredibly wet. She paused a moment halfway down, closing her eyes. Her pussy contracted around my cock, making us both moan. She bit her lip and sank down the rest of the way with a squelch.

"Fuck," we said, almost in unison.

Sitting back, one strap of the dress slid off her shoulder, exposing her firm, small breast. Her nipple was hard and tight. She used one hand to twist and pull it as she ground down on my cock. The look in her eye was feral as she bounced up and down.

"Fuck, I need to come again, Matt. Are you gonna make me come again with your hard cock?"

"Uh huh," my voice was weak. It felt so good to be inside her. She was so sexy fucking me. It wasn't like with Teresa. Diane was using me. She was getting off on me. Teresa was receptive. Diane was taking me. I couldn't decide where to look: her determined eyes, her breasts, or the place where we joined.

She increased her tempo, bouncing up and down in short strokes. Then I saw it, a thick pool forming around the root of my cock, dripping into my hip crease. It was cum. Not mine.

She saw the reaction. She smiled, her mouth open as she panted. She brought both hands to her hair now, caressing and pulling.

"That's right, Matt."

My emotions battered around inside me. I felt jealousy, rage, and fear all at once.MyDiane had been with someone tonight. She had dressed for him. She had fucked him. I had the urge to buck her off me, but what she was doing felt too good. My heart raced, and I thought, "But she came here. I'm inside her finally." And it felt so good. She looked so incredibly hot. Her eyes expressed victory as she felt me react, knowing I couldn't stop. I had to finish. I felt some cum drip down my hip and some along my balls. His cum. The other man. Who was it? Was he better than me? Was he bigger?

Reading my thoughts, she shook her head. "Don't worry, Matt. The whole time I was with him, I imagined this moment. Riding your cock after he fucked me, feeling you sliding through his cum, pushing it deeper than he could. Filling me all the rest of the way with your hot, fucking spunk."

I cried out as I came.

This was the second sexual transition in my life. My mind comes back to this over and over. Each time I take sloppy seconds, I flash on this memory of the first time Diane fucked me after a date, coating my cock with another man's spunk, pumping mine deep inside to join it. Feeling the copious fluid all around the head of my cock, held waiting for when I pull out.

As I came, Diane's face broke into a wide grin as she lost all control, grinding her clit against me until she came as well.

She collapsed on top of me. She bit my shoulder as she thrust back against me in her afterglow. I felt her contractions around my cock, milking me more. I wrapped my arms around her and we held there for some time.

She broke the silence first. "You liked that, didn't you?"

I wanted to say no, but I nodded. "I... I felt..."

She touched my face. She bit her lip. I felt her pussy squeeze my cock as it shrank, followed by the gush of fluid around us. My eyes rolled back in my head and she kissed me.

"You are so fucking perfect," she whispered. She slid down my body, not caring about the mess on her dress. She put her mouth on my cock and cleaned it, swallowing the first taste. My groin was covered in cum. She sucked as much as she could before sliding back up. Looking down at me, her mouth full of cum, she gave me that sideways smirk. Her eyes crinkled, and then she raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. I nodded. She put a finger on my chin, guiding it open. My heart raced. Could I? It was one thing if it was my cum. But this was something else. Someone else. My mouth decided for me. It gaped wide.

Diane opened her mouth above mine, letting a long stream of cum and saliva drop into my open mouth. I felt it warm against the back of my throat. When her mouth was empty, she closed her shiny lips and stared down at the puddle there in mine. She panted and bit her shiny lip. When she nodded, I closed my mouth and swallowed. The taste was different, but I couldn't place how. It was so many flavors: her mouth, our sweat, her pussy, our cum. His cum and mine went down my throat.

She lowered her slippery cunt to my cock. She slid up and back against it.

"I just knew you would love that," she said. I was hard again. The whole scene was too exciting. I wanted more. She ground back and forth, dragging her clit against my cock. "So, here's the question," she said as she continued. "Do you want the rest of it now... or later?"

I blurted out, "Now, please! Now," before I even thought.

She bobbed her head back and forth, pretending to weigh the options, before she laughed at my pained expression and crawled up to hold her pussy above my face. She lowered to where my tongue stretched out and held herself just out of reach. Her belly tightened and a stream of cum bubbled out into my mouth. I groaned loudly. It should have disgusted me: all of this cum squeezed out of her, plopping into my mouth.

I went feral. there's no other word. I strained to lick and suck whatever I could reach. She teased me and slid her pussy over my face, smearing it with our sticky mess. But she couldn't hold out for long. She needed to come again and so she planted her pussy on my mouth and let me nurse and lick and swallow until nothing remained. Then she moved so that I could suck and lick her clit to another orgasm.

Collapsing next to me after, we caressed and held each other. She played lightly with my cock, saying, "I think I'm all fucked out, Matt." Seeing the ache in my eyes, she pulled her dress down, exposing her whole chest. "Come on me Matt. Think about my tits covered in cum." She played with her nipple. With her other hand, despite her protest of soreness, she was fingering herself. She couldn't help herself. "Picture cum spurting all over my little titties. Imagine licking them clean." She took her wet fingers out of her pussy and pressed two into my asshole. "Or imagine it's notyourcum at all."

With a groan, I crouched over her. I furiously jerked my cock over her tits until I came again. I spurted over her neck and tits, and most of it pooled on her sternum. She caressed the back of my head and guided me down. I sucked my cum from her chest, licked her tits and neck clean while she murmured and cooed.

"That's a good boy, Matt. Clean it all up. You're my good little cum slut, aren't you?"

I moaned in agreement. This was better than Teresa. Diane knew what I needed. She loved what I did. She fed me.

We fell asleep on the floor. Eventually, we got up and went to take a shower together, leaving our clothes and the drying spots of cum behind for later.

In the steamy shower, we cleaned and caressed each other. She was tender and stopped often to hold me tight. As I came down from the high of our intimacy, I considered what I'd done. She sensed my withdrawal. She touched my cheek, turning my eyes to hers, saying, "There's nothing wrong with you, Matt."

Grateful for the steamy shower to hide the watering of my eyes, I kissed her hand to break away, but she pulled me right back.

"Look at me, Matt. It's normal. We all have different desires, kinks, whatever. There's nothing wrong with it between consenting adults. Anything you want, I can give it to you."

I sighed. Then I told her what happened at the restaurant today and how Teresa reacted.

"That bitch," Diane muttered. I nodded, but part of me felt like Teresa was right to be disgusted. I was sick. Depraved. And tonight I eagerly ate another man's ejaculate -- cleaned it out of Diane's pussy like it was my favorite dessert. (But wasn't it?)

As we were drying off, my phone buzzed.

"It's Teresa," I said. "She says, 'I'm sorry about today. I feel awful.'"

I moved to tap, but Diane said, "Leave her on read."

Diane smirked, which was an expression I'd grown to trust. She said, "Let her stew a bit. Plus, give yourself some time to think about what you want to say. My guess is that she's alone at night and rethinking that magic tongue of yours." I laughed.

"I only want you," I said.

Diane looked at me tenderly. "We have this little window and I'm loving it, but do you think we can just go on like this forever?"

"Yeah." I grabbed her and pulled her to me. Her towel dropped off and I felt her skin against mine. She looked at me and I saw the thoughts flitting behind her eyes. She was wondering if she could stay with me, take this young man and make him her own plaything. Use him. Then her eyes hardened slightly.

"I can be cruel, Matt."

"I don't believe you."

She squinted. "Trust me. Maybe I should end it here. You can take what you've learned and find some tight, young piece of ass who--"

"No!" I said too loudly. "You can't leave me. I want you. I only want you."

She slid her hand down my body. I shivered as I felt her soft hands against my chest, my belly, my groin. She circled her fingers around my balls. She slowly closed her hand. Suddenly, I felt pain. I tried to pull back, but she had gripped my scrotum too tightly. I whimpered.

Her face bore none of the cruelty of her hand. She might have been reading me a grocery list as she said, "I could own you completely, Matt. Lock you up forever. So you never, ever come again. I could erase all your pleasure and take only my own. I could fuck anyone I like and bring you only the mess. Torture you with it. Make you beg for the... slightest release." She eased her fingers slightly on the last words, and I felt the blood rush back into my balls. I panted. Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't imagine the cruelty of the words coming from her.

My heart pounded in my chest. My mouth went dry. I swallowed hard as I tried to take in this other side of her. Not the kind guide to depravity but the harsh mistress. The pain had pulled my dick back into hiding. A grower, she had called me once. She glanced down at my shriveled dick. She opened her mouth and pressed her tongue against her upper lip and shook her head.