All or Nothing

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Copyright, drlust, 2004

“That’s it! Yes! Right there…just like that. Uh huh!”

Other than Gayle’s scattered urgings, the only other sound in the living room was the slurping noises my mouth was making in her crotch. The music she put on had ended a good ten minutes before. It was just as well. I’m not much of a Nashville fan and I found listening to Faith Hill, well, off-putting.

Her long, gangly legs were splayed out on either arm of the large armchair in the corner of her living room, her skin creamy white against the dark green walls. God she was skinny. Not anorexic…just skinny as hell. Really not my type when it comes right down to it.

I prefer a woman with some meat on her bones, curves where there are supposed to be curves. Gayle’s skin was so white it was beyond pale. To be fair, the fish-belly look is a hazard of our profession—night manager at two different local bars. When you work the hours we do, you just don’t see a lot of the sun.

“Yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” she moaned, her voice getting louder, her hands dropping now to my head, pressing my face more tightly into her cunt. I could tell she was getting very close. It was almost time to back off, slow down.

I know I haven’t made her sound very attractive. In fact, unless you like tall, really skinny women, Gayle wouldn’t be considered attractive—except for two things. She had a regal pair to tits that looked even larger than they were because of her skinniness. She loved to show them off, favoring spandex tops, or t-shirts that clung to every pore.

There was something about those large breasts suspended above her ribcage and tiny waist that made them seem like they were floating, almost not part of her. The other thing that made Gayle attractive was her personality. She was hot-blooded, irreverent, smart-assed, and funny. She had been one of my good friends for several years.

“Oh God. Shit! So good. So good.” Gayle was proving to be a real talker.

I could feel the muscles in her thighs beginning to tense. It was time to back off again. I pulled my face away from her pussy, staring at it, loving the way her lips were swollen, distended, the way her clit was poking up aching for me to finish.

“No! Not again!” she barked. “God damn it! Why won’t you let me cum!” she pleaded.

“Soon Gayle,” I reassured her. “Soon.”

Then I began licking my way up her thigh toward her knee, then down her bony shin to her toes, sucking each one in turn into my mouth, running my tongue between them, fucking her foot with my tongue. Then back to her knee, down her thigh, across the top of her vulva, causing her to arch her back in hopes that I’d return to her clit, and then up the other leg and down to her toes. Again I fucked her toes with my tongue. This made her moan.

Finally, I returned to her cunt. It was time for her to cum. I’d tortured her for a good half an hour and I knew from experience that it was possible to play this game too long. What she couldn’t have known before we started was that for me being in control of a woman’s orgasm in this way was intensely pleasurable.

I’m sure lots of men love to dominate the lovemaking by using their cocks. For me the most erotic moments come when a woman is suspended on the tip of my tongue, every fiber in her body crying out for release. At that moment of supreme control, my cock swells to almost unbearable hardness, and I often orgasm myself without any contact.

Whether kartal escort I cum or not, that moment of exquisite tension—when I know that one more stroke of my tongue on her clit will break the dam—that is my moment of greatest sexual pleasure.

My partners are often surprised when I orgasm spontaneously with them. I assure them it just means they turn me on so much. I never, ever tell them that it is the control, not their pleasure or their bodies that pleases me.

Without warning, I sucked Gayle’s clit between my lips, drawing it into my mouth as far as it would go, and my tongue lashed it up and down, back and forth, up and down, back and forth. Within seconds she was bucking against my face, both hands on the back of my head grinding me into her crotch, my nose smashed uncomfortably against her pubic bone.

Her head tilted over the back of the chair and she let out an animal howl that I’m sure everyone in her neighborhood heard through the open windows of her living room.

That wailing drove me forward. I grabbed her ass and shoved her cunt even tighter against my face, my tongue moving like a fan blade against her clit, the suction I was exerting on her clit even greater. The muscles in her ass were contracting wildly, her thighs clamped against my head and she came again, grunting this time instead of howling.

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!”

Then her hands flew to my forehead and she shoved me violently back, away from her, twisting my neck painfully.

“Stop!” she gasped. “Stop. Too sensitive. Let me be.”

I rocked back onto my knees and watched as she held herself, right hand over her breasts, left covering her pussy. Twitches and shudders ran through her from her shoulders to her calves. The overall impression was of someone receiving mild electric shocks. Again I was assaulted by how thin she was. This woman needed to eat more.


Tom was just as good as Charlotte and Kim had said he was. When we had lunch last week, Kim had described him as “a fucking orgasmatron.”

Charlotte had urged me to think of him as a “human vibrator.” When I asked her what she meant by that, she said, “You know, he’s just like that vibrator in your night stand. When you need a great orgasm, you get one, no questions asked.”

There was no denying that I’d just had one of the best orgasms I’d had in several years. Tom’s tongue was much better than any vibrator I’d ever owned.

“Don’t expect anything more from him than sex Gayle,” Kim had admonished me. “He’s really two people—the nice guy we know from work and the sex machine.”

“Machine?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Charlotte said. “He’s like a machine. It’s all about orgasms for him and he’ll insist on starting every sexual encounter the same way—by going down on you. Not that that’s bad or anything,” she laughed.

I looked over at Kim and she was nodding. We’d known one another for almost five years and I really trust her judgment about men. She’s the one who suggested to me that I “needed to give Tom a go” in the first place.

When I told her I wasn’t sure—that I liked him a lot, but that he wasn’t really my type—she insisted that the three of us have lunch. “Charlotte can corroborate everything I tell you about him,” she said.


After a minute or two of twitching, her eyes slitted open and she smirked at me. “Where did you learn to do that?” she asked.

“I had a good teacher, many years ago,” I replied.

“I kurtköy escort owe her, whoever she is,” Gayle murmured. “That was fantastic. I haven’t cum like that in a couple of years.”

“Yes,” I agreed. For just a second a vision of my old high school teacher Carole flashed into my mind, patiently instructing me in the art of oral sex when I was 18, home from college for the summer. “It was fantastic.”

Gayle’s eyes opened fully now and her right hand joined her left over her crotch. With her hands in that position, her upper arms pushed her breasts together, making them appear even larger than they were, taking any sag out of them. It was a good look, because it also covered her ribcage, so visible under her pale skin.

“What about you, baby?” she purred. “How do you want to cum?”

I knew the answer to her question, but wasn’t ready to push for anal sex just yet. After all, this was our first sexual encounter, and I didn’t want to spoil the possibilities by asking for too much the first time around. I didn’t have enough control—yet.


“I still don’t exactly understand him,” Charlotte said. “He seems to really get off on a woman’s orgasm.” Then she giggled, “He used to cum while he went down on me.”

“Same here,” Kim chimed in. “At first I thought it was sexy—that he was so turned on by me, but the more we slept together, the more I realized there is something really odd about him.”

“Odd?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Kim replied. “It’s almost like you’re secondary to what’s happening. Once the sex starts he retreats into some kind of shell and it’s almost like you aren’t there—at least as a person anyway.”

“It’s like you’re some kind of object,” Charlotte agreed. “He needs your body for his pleasure, but not you.”

“Sounds almost repulsive,” I said, not sure if I wanted to go through with it now.


“Don’t move a muscle,” I replied. “I want to fuck you just the way you are right now.”

That said, I rose up to my feet and stepped between her splayed legs, my cock standing at attention, very, very close to orgasm. I looked down at it and could see the veins in the shaft fully engorged, the head and end of the shaft almost purple, the lower half pale.

Gayle leaned forward, thinking I wanted her to suck me, but I shook my head. “No. Thanks. I want to be inside you now.” I never want a blowjob at the early stage of a relationship. It needs to be on my terms, not hers.


“Don’t sweat it honey,” Kim said. “Like we said, think of him as a human vibrator. If he’s dehumanizing you, you can certainly dehumanize him.”

“Yeah,” Charlotte was nodding. “And remember, the orgasms are fucking incredible.”

“You’ll get tired of him after a while,” Kim said. “And when you do, it’s easy to blow him off. Just start trying to take control of the sex.”

“Or pretend that you are in control,” Charlotte giggled. “He freaks out and loses interest immediately.”

I looked over at Kim. She was nodding. This was all so intriguing. It had been months since Steve and I broke up and I had to admit that for the last year we were together, the only time I had an orgasm was when he was somewhere else and I used my vibrator. So the thought of some no-strings sex that promised some of the best orgasms of my life sounded good to me.

“Insist on sucking his cock,” Kim said. “He hates that. I think it’s because if you are sucking him, you’re in control, maltepe escort not him.”


I bent and lowered myself toward her crotch, using my right hand to extend my cock out and away from my body, pointing at its destination. The wet spot on the seat cushion had spread to size of a salad plate and her cunt was still wide open from her orgasm.

Placing the head at her outer lips, I pushed slowly, very slowly against them, watching carefully as she enveloped me in her wetness. God I was so close to cumming.

It was hard to hold back and take it slow. But I wanted to savor the moment, the heat of her pussy, to feel how wet she was before I made her even wetter with my semen.


As I lay there in my armchair, waiting for him to enter me, I looked down at his cock. It was nothing to write home about. Kind of small actually. But what the hell, I’d had my fun already. And it would feel nice to have him inside me.


Agonizingly, I let millimeter after millimeter of my cock slip into her, focusing my mind on the way that the inner folds of her cunt closed around the head, the most sensitive rim across the top, and suctioned onto my shaft. She was clearly using her muscles to try to draw me into herself and I appreciated the way she was gripping me, expanding my pleasure.

Each stroke in and out of her was excruciating, because both my mind and my body were screaming at me to cut loose and pound away. But just as control of her orgasm was important to me, control of mine was essential.

The longer I could prolong it, the more powerful it would be. Five strokes in, five strokes out. God this was difficult! Plus, she was exhorting me to cum, making it that much harder.


“If you want to play with his mind,” Kim said as we were walking to our car after lunch, “Talk to him while he’s fucking you. He hates that.”

“Why,” I asked. I loved to talk dirty during sex and this sounded disappointing.

“It’s got something to do with the way he closes himself off,” she said. “I don’t really understand it, but I know it bugs him.”


“Come on baby. Cum for me. That’s it. Fuck me baby. Shove that beautiful cock into me. I want you to cum.”

“Shut the fuck up!” my mind screamed at her. “Just shut the fuck up.” Fortunately, I’m good at keeping my mouth shut in these situations, or this would be our first and only date.

Six strokes. Seven. So slow, so excruciating. My balls began to nestle up against the base of my shaft. My toes began to curl under me.

Eight strokes. Jesus Christ!

Nine. The head of my cock was swelling unbearably.

Ten. Fuck it!

I reached down and grabbed her ass with both hands and shoved myself as far into her as I could go. The minute I hit bottom my orgasm ripped up and out of my balls, shooting semen deep into her. That release also shattered my control and I began to pound myself into her as hard and as fast as I could, stroke after stroke, my face contorting.

I don’t know if she saw how I reacted, because I never once looked at her as I was fucking her. My eyes were glued on that spot where my cock disappeared into her cunt.

And then I was done. Spent.

Panting, I collapsed onto her chest, her hard nipples pressed into my ribs as my chin curved into the hollow between her shoulder and her neck. Her hands were stroking my back, my hair, and my shoulders.

“That’s it baby. That’s it,” she whispered. “That was great. So great.”

“Umm hmm,” I murmured back. It had been great.

She was malleable and responsive. I knew that it was going to work with her. At least for a while.


“The human vibrator,” I mused to myself. “I think it will be fun for a while anyway.”

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