The Art and Science of Love
5
Like a Firehose
I CAME AWAKE SLOWLY, finally realizing the ringing I was hearing was not my alarm clock, but the doorbell. It was nearly one o’clock Friday morning. I jumped out of bed, into my slippers and robe, and rushed to the door, thinking there might be an emergency of some sort. Perhaps someone had seen smoke coming from my house!
I opened the door and saw my lovely Rita leaning against the doorjamb.
“Hi, Doc!” she exclaimed cheerfully. She’d been drinking. I couldn’t tell how much, but she had that pleasantly buzzed look about her and was grinning happily at me. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Sure,” I said. “I did say any time.” As soon as I closed the door behind her, she turned and kissed me deeply.
“Sorry I haven’t been over sooner,” she said. “I wanted to, but things just weren’t working out the way I planned.”
“You had a plan?” I asked. Cobwebs were still clearing from my head. If she arrived to make love, I’d just lead her back to my bed.
“Just to get back here as soon as I could,” she said. “There was the stupid girls’ spa weekend, then work, and I got my period. I just didn’t feel like I could come over here like that.” I would have to disabuse her of that inhibition eventually. “So, I was out with the girls tonight for our Thursday night whine and dine and I got to missing you terribly and I wanted to know more and I was feeling… well, lustful. And there was this discussion.”
While she was rattling on, she’d dropped her purse and coat on the floor and stepped out of her shoes. I wasn’t directing, but she was nudging me in the direction of my bedroom. I wasn’t inclined to resist.
“What kind of discussion?” I asked.
“In a minute,” she said. “First I gotta pee.” She ducked into the master bath and closed the door. Left waiting, I fluffed a pillow so I could sit up in bed and slid back beneath the covers. It took her a while and, in spite of myself, I was nodding off when the bathroom door opened. Rita stood there, framed in the light, completely naked. “You don’t mind that I got more comfortable, do you?” I took in the vision of loveliness before me and pinched myself to be sure I was awake.
She’d taken her hair down out of its usual ponytail and it fell softly around her shoulders. The light filtering through the light brown locks was like an aura around her face. Her shoulders rose and fell with her breathing and that drew my attention to her pert breasts. I couldn’t help but make a mental note about how much plumper they were than the voraciously demanding Sheila. Despite their fullness, the nipples were tiny dots in the middle of barely perceptible areolae. At her height of just over five feet, the thick bush of her pussy was just a bit above the edge of the bed where she stood posing for me.
As if on cue, she pirouetted slowly to her left until she came to a stop with her back to me. Her shoulders gently sloped from the base of her neck where her hair parted to either side. A small beauty spot was just below her right shoulder blade, and much to my surprise, there was a tiny butterfly tramp-stamp tattooed at the base of her spine. I admit that in the low light of our love-making, that had escaped notice. It drew my attention to her tiny waist and beautifully round buttocks with the tantalizing crack between. She continued her pirouette and I noticed as she came into profile how proudly her breasts rode on her chest. When she was facing me again, she smiled like the proverbial cat that ate the canary.
“I know you like to just look first,” she giggled. “See? I did learn something.” We both laughed at that. She put her hands on the foot of the bed and crawled up on it, stalking toward me until our lips could meet.
“What a delightful way to wake up in the middle of the night,” I said as our lips parted. “Come, get under the covers with me.”
“Nope,” she said, sitting back abruptly. She sat cross-legged facing me and I could see her pussy lips part her bush as the glistening sheen of moisture between her legs caught the lamplight. “I wanna talk.”
“O-kay,” I said, drawing out the word as I enjoyed the view. “What would you like to talk about?”
“What’s the big deal with blowjobs?” she asked.
“What?” She had shifted gears again and I was catching up. Having all my attention on her pussy was probably contributing to my slowness.
“Well,” Rita began, “the girls were discussing this over drinks tonight. The discussion turned to men and that led to sex and that led to blowjobs. Pamela said she’d rather give a guy a blowjob than have sex with him. Carmine said she had such a bad gag reflex she couldn’t get a cock past her lips without throwing up. And Jan said blowjobs were just a normal part of having sex and you had to do them if you ever wanted to get any satisfaction for yourself. We don’t exactly take turns when we’re talking, you know, so everybody had more to say on the subject and it was all pretty interesting. Eventually, they noticed I hadn’t said anything and they all started to stare at me and thought I had some big secret I wasn’t telling them. I finally blurted out that according to Alex, I couldn’t suck water from a firehose. At first, they thought I was kidding and then they started to get furious. They said it was his fault if he didn’t enjoy putting his dick in my mouth and I should go find someone who appreciated me. I thought, I know someone who appreciates me. So, what was I doing sitting around moaning with these bitches when I could be in his arms and he’d tell me what the big deal was and then I’d be able to suck water from a firehose?”
I swear, she paused for the first breath she’d taken since she started. Once she got wound up, it was just a flood of confusion and emotion pouring out of her. “So, what’s the big deal with blowjobs?” she asked again.
I laughed gently. “I assume you mean other than they feel great and fuel fantasies,” I said. She punched my leg softly.
“I mean it,” she said. “I want the primal archetype men respond to. You seem to know one for everything.”
“Ah.” I could see already she wanted to be told she was good at oral sex, but there had to be a story to go along with the urge. So, I made one up. “Every guy wants to believe his girl could have sex with four or five guys at once,” I began.
“Alex wants me to have sex with a basketball team?” she exclaimed, raising her eyebrows.
“No, no. Some guys get off on that kind of thing, but we’re talking about the archetype, not some aberration,” I said. “No, he just wants to believe that you could have sex with four or five guys at once.”
“And exactly how would I do that?” she asked. “It’s ridiculous.”
“Hmm. You certainly know basic sex with cock in pussy,” I answered slowly. She nodded. “And you at least know there is oral with cock in mouth. Then there is cock in hand, cock in ass, and cock between the breasts. That’s five and doesn’t count having two hands available. See? Up to six by that count.”
“All at once? I’d never keep them straight!”
“They’d stay straight, believe me.” We laughed together at that and I decided to make up as much of a story as I could. “Like I said, he doesn’t actually want you to do it, just to think that you could do it. And that you’d satisfy all six of them equally.”
“But why?” she asked, plaintively. I was on a roll, so why stop now.
“We live in a society that is polarized between pornography and religion,” I said. “On one side, you have Hollywood—and I use the term loosely—and on the other side, you have the church. I use that term loosely as well. One is telling you sex is good, sex sells, sex with a lot of people is even better, sex with people watching is best of all. On the other side, sex is part of an inviolable institution and is limited to a partnership between just two people for all eternity. The tension builds up inside. On one hand, a guy wants to have sex with every woman he sees. On the other hand, he wants to mate for life with the one woman who will be all he ever needs.”
“Come on,” Rita said. “No guy wants to have sex with every woman he sees.”
“There may be some who escape his notice at first,” I answered. “And some are dismissed with scarcely a thought. But once a woman is in a man’s focus his first thought is about whether she would be a good fuck. He might dismiss the notion, but every woman he meets gets evaluated first based on her potential as a sex partner. Now the thing is that a guy who’s serious enough to actually have sex with her is going to have this voice in his ear hounding him that this could be the last person he ever has sex with. She could be the one he marries. This might be the only pussy he ever penetrates from now on.”
“Guys don’t have that much brainpower to think all that while they’re fucking,” Rita said dismissively.
“True,” I said. “I’m just talking through what goes into the desire. See, if a guy figures you could have sex with four or five guys all at once, then having sex with you could be like having sex with four or five different women. Having a different woman for every day of the week no longer feels like the trap of monogamy. He might get through it after all.”
She looked at me, puzzled for a moment. Then, sure she had a perfect counter-argument, she launched in. “Porn videos always show every way of having sex in every video. First you give a hand-job, then a blowjob, then he fucks you missionary, then he fucks you doggy or in the ass, and finally he comes on your face or your tits. That’s the archetype that men see and want.”
“But,” I said, “porn is made for the pleasure of the viewers, not of the actors. They have fifteen, maybe twenty minutes of film time to get someone they don’t know and will never meet again up and off. They don’t know what will turn on each viewer most, so they have to throw in a bit of everything. The guy watching the movie might come during the blowjob, the butt-fuck, or the come-shot. The only sure thing is that he’ll come. That’s why he bought the movie. The guy and gal in the movie have to act as though everything is giving them pleasure and, eventually, at least the guy has to come so success can be filmed. The girl can fake it and the camera won’t know the difference. Most guys can’t tell the difference for that matter.”
She considered what I said while she sat cross-legged on the bed. It was getting close to what she really wanted and, as ridiculous as what I’d said was, just sitting here talking about sex had gotten her aroused, as the damp spot on the bedspread beneath her pussy attested.
“Five ways,” she said and looked up at me a little bashfully. “Teach me to suck water from a firehose, Doc,” she said simply. With those words, I felt a stirring in my groin. This was going to be a very good night—or morning.
“Ungh!” I croaked out. My flaccid penis had just been vacuumed into my lovely Rita’s mouth with such force, I thought the balls would follow. I gently pulled her back, finally wedging a finger between her lips and my prick to break the suction seal. “Sweetheart. Rita. Wait.” She looked up at me with such a crease between her eyes, I thought she was going to break down and cry.
“It’s true!” she cried out. “You don’t like it either! I can’t suck worth shit.” Tears were leaking out her eyes. I pulled her close to me and rocked her.
“You asked me to teach you, Rita, and I said I would. You want a very special kind of skill that is above and beyond simply sucking. Now, you can’t go crying when I’m trying to teach you.”
“Really? It’s just a lesson? Okay.” She looked at me expectantly. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“First, I’m not a kitchen appliance.”
“Huh?” She was completely perplexed.
“You have to turn me on before you plug me in!”
“Oh. You mean we have to go through that whole flirting and seduction routine every time we do something sexy?” she asked.
“No, no, no. But usually, you can’t just go for the goods unless we’ve already got started. And…” This was a difficult one. “I don’t expect you to be a vacuum cleaner. That’s a delicate instrument down there. The term ‘suck’ is a catchall phrase, not always a literal instruction. Just like you don’t just blow because it’s a blowjob. No amount of pure suction will pull the juice out of my balls.”
“But they always say… I mean… What about sucking water through a firehose?” I really laughed this time. How did this poor girl with all her scientific education get to be twenty-six and still be this naïve? For that matter, how did the cheerleader get out of high school this uneducated?
“Rita, when was the first time you gave a guy a blowjob?”
“Umm. Well. It was Alex, actually. I just never could imagine doing it, but he kept asking and I thought my pussy just wasn’t enough to satisfy him and I’d have to suck him, so I just did it. A couple of weeks ago. And then he said I was…”
“The idiot. You mean he just told you it was terrible without offering suggestions about how to improve?” She nodded. I revised my estimate of his mental age down to about thirteen. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do…”
After a few minutes’ instruction, Rita stretched out beside me and began a lovely, gentle kiss. Whatever she lacked in fellatio experience, she certainly possessed in kissing. Her lips were soft and she used them to pluck at mine until I opened to her. Then her tongue began a dance so elaborate, mine could not keep up. It swept across my lips, moistening them. Before I could catch it, it disappeared back into her mouth, begging me to chase it. Her lips embraced mine and again her tongue darted in and out of my mouth so quickly I was caught with my tongue waving in the air as she pulled away. I growled as I pushed my mouth toward hers and suddenly it was all softness and yielding—accepting my tongue and stroking around it with her own.
“That kissing talent is what you need to bring to a blowjob,” I whispered.
There is nothing like a kiss to put wood in my pecker and as she trailed her fingers down my chest and belly, I was eager to feel her touch it. She did, but so lightly that, like her tongue on my lips, it was there and gone. Her lips, in fact, were gone from mine as her tongue followed the trail of her fingers over my chin and down my throat, pausing to kiss my Adam’s apple as it bounced when I swallowed. She detoured off to playfully kiss my right nipple, again swirling her tongue around to excite me so much, I almost missed feeling her fingers return up my leg to tickle my balls.
A quick kiss to my eyelids, nose, and lips, and Rita settled back to my left nipple, this time suckling more intently but not with vacuum cleaner strength. The light nip of her teeth on my nipple came at the exact moment her palm pressed against the tip of my cock to smear a copious amount of pre-come across the head and down. Oh yes, she had turned me on. And in the process gave me some indications of things she might like as well.
She did not simply slide down my body, but pivoted, so by the time she had kissed down my pubes—carefully avoiding contact with my cock—she had curled with her pussy within my reach. I was about to touch it when she arrested her kissing near my knee and lifted her right breast so that only the nipple came in contact with the slippery end of my cock. She used her hand to guide my cockhead around her nipple, smearing it with lubricant from my cock.
Sliding farther toward the head of the bed, she took the hand reaching for her pussy and placed it on her breast, guiding my thumb to smear the lubrication around her nipple. As I did, her mouth hovered near my cock and I felt her breath catching as it blew in little pants across my balls. Her tongue reached out again and took little licks across the base of my cock near the scrotum. She laved my erection with her tongue, bringing her hand up finally to guide my cock and steady it as she worshipped it with her mouth.
She looked up at me over the head of my cock with an eyebrow raised, seeking reassurance. Apparently, she found it in my blissful expression as I looked into her eyes. She returned to her ministrations.
The pre-come rubbed into her nipple was drying, so I dragged my hand along her wet snatch, picking up a fresh batch of lubricant to smear across the nipple again.
Following my earlier advice, she made love to my cock with her mouth as if she were kissing me and my cock had replaced my tongue. And oh! Could she kiss!
She raised herself up and moved over me, careful to not bring her pussy in range of my mouth. She’d made it clear that she did not want to be distracted by my tongue on her clit while she practiced orally pleasuring me. But giving me access to her wet folds and being close enough that I could both see and smell her arousal was proving pleasurable for both of us. I stroked from her ass to her clit just as she lowered her mouth over my cock. The moan it elicited hummed across my skin electrically. My cock jerked, and realizing the vocalism had an effect, she proceeded to hum as she let her soft lips stroke up and down.
There was a seal and some suction as she moved her mouth, but this time, it simply drew more blood into my prick, making it stiffer and more sensitive than ever. Her mouth was a soft and welcoming channel fucking my cock. She used her hand to follow her mouth up and down my shaft, spreading the slipperiness until it felt like my entire cock was working its way in and out of her mouth, though I knew she had not attempted to take me into her throat.
I was nearing my climax and whispered, “I’m near.” I felt one of her hands slip into her folds with mine and as I exploded, she twitched with a gasp that nearly made her inhale my come. Instead, it spattered across her face, her lips, and her tongue as she continued long sensuous strokes up and down with both her mouth and her hand.
She may have swallowed some, but certainly most of my spend was on her face and in her hair with a good portion on my own belly. My fingers, lodged in her pussy, were likewise drenched. She looked back up at me, flicking a drop of come from her eyelid. The sensuous smile and gentle squeeze she gave me brought another small spurt out onto her fingers.
“It is like a firehose,” she said dreamily. Not letting go for a moment, she continued kissing my cock. She scooped what cum remained on her cheek off and smeared it across her nipple before drawing my hand back to that breast to massage the slippery mass as we rose toward pleasure again.
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
