My Senior Year with Ruth

 RuthI couldn’t help it. I saw him across the room with Georgia Summers and my breath caught in my throat. He moved like a cat. He smiled like an angel. He stood as a lesser god. He flashed his eyes my way and I drooled in my panties. No man ever affected me in this way as he did at that moment.He’s a lesser god but he’s still a god. I want to have his babies.These two thoughts ran through my mind the first minute I saw him. The next nine minutes, before I walked over to him, I tortured myself watching his every move. Georgia said she had a new boyfriend but she didn’t tell me he was a hunk. I couldn’t help myself. I had to meet him; had to touch him. It was a compulsion. If Georgia hadn’t been standing there to introduce us, I’d have hugged and kissed him. But she was undeniably there, so I settled for picking an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder.The connection was instant. I could feel it. Georgia could see it. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name two seconds after I heard it. He remembered mine. He said it a million times. He said Ruth. I looked into his green eyes and smiled every time he said my name.Eventually Georgia walked away and never came back. We noticed but we kept talking.We wandered outside away from everyone and we kissed. It was magical. Disneyland kind of magical. He led me to his car and opened the back door. I climbed in. He followed and wrapped his arms around me.Then he dropped the bomb I never expected to hear from a man like him.Ruth, I’m a virgin. I won’t put myself inside you but we’ll have incredible orgasms. I was stunned but managed to blurt, Me, too!It was his turn to blurt. Modern Methodist, outercourse only. It was an explanation. I squealed, Me, too!We didn’t talk after that. We stripped each other’s clothes. Naked, he looked more like a god; I looked more like a lustful woman.I licked the head of him and then mouthed his cock; the cock of a god. Concupiscence extraordinaire. It made me hot. Wet. Available to give or receive an orgasm with this man.His cock was impressive. Tall as a monument. Hard like one, too. Girth? It was all flesh and all carnal. I drooled over the orgasms his cock mass might provoke in me if we ever fucked.His balls were indolent. I fondled his testicular eggs, one in each hand; so dense, so heavy with promise. They needed only pleasuring before giving me what I wanted and perhaps what I needed.If he ever drove himself into me, his thrusts would swing his balls and they’d slap underneath my wet cunt. Or my chin, depending upon the hole he chose.I can’t believe he’s a virgin. Sweet Jesus!My tongue touched the fleshy edge of his cockhead before I kissed it. I traced its edge and I outlined his prick with saliva that dripped from my mouth. My mouth was as wet as my cunt. His prick stood upright; ram rod straight. I wrapped both my hands around his shaft and tugged. My mouth stretched over him. His prick pressed the inside of my lips. It filled my mouth with carnal flesh. I sucked. I blew. I tugged. I swirled. Depending upon how you thought about these things, I either licked his god-like shaft or his god-damn dick.I was feral. An hour before, I was a religiously moderate Methodist college girl in a black dress. I had given a few handjobs or occassionally sucked the cock of a special friend. Now I was naked and I was growling over his manhood or his godhood or maybe his devilhood. I didn’t care what it was called. I hungered for the ambrosia that gods like him proffer. I coveted his godseed.This was sin and I was all in.Under my control, he quivered; driving me to new levels of cocksmanship to express my talent.My need was so real. I needed his cum and I definitely needed his cock to deliver it. I needed to taste it, swallow it, and keep almanbahis it inside me.When he came, he partially filled my need. So much fluid. Sweet, salty, creamy streams of jizz splashed the back of my throat. I drank cum from his fire hose in pulsing surges and when the streams slowed, I said, More, please because I was still hungry for him and I wanted more of him.I sucked his god-cock and I swallowed his god-seed in the second hour of the first day I met him and I could not remember his name.What had I become? JoshuaOne of the things that attracted me was her interest in me. That sounds awful, doesn’t it? It sounds like I’m the world’s biggest narcissist. It’s so not true.I was at the college formal six months ago, October, when my then girlfriend, Georgia, introduced me to Ruth. Ruth picked a piece of lint off my jacket and said A good-looking man like you needs a woman to keep him at his best.It was an odd comment but it hooked me on Ruth from that moment forward. I didn’t intend to ignore Georgia that night but I did and I’m embarrassed about it. I can’t offer any better excuse than I was smitten by Ruth.There are two things you should know about me before I get further into this story of Ruth and roads taken in the Woods of Life. At twenty-two, I was a six-foot-two football-playing hunk: muscled, manly, and modest. And I was a virgin.Ruth became my road taken. She and I were both untraveled when we met.Abstaining from penetration was something one did to honor the sacrament of marriage. My Methodist parents were clear about that. Ruth and I have been dating since the cotillion and we often talked about waiting and what it meant to honor our marriage with consummation. But when we realized we were committed to marrying each other, the whole idea of waiting for Methodist social approval was absurd. RuthIt began as soon as we were an item. I dressed him for every occasion. I made sure his colors matched and his clothes were clean. I chose colors and patterns he should wear to look his best. It was important to me he look good for my friends. I enjoyed showing him off.I particularly liked tight fabric around his chest and arms, like T-shirts that showed his guns; but in cooler weather I liked him in four-button Henleys.I had a thing about his underclothing. I made him wear silk pouch Brazilian briefs one size too large with his workout clothes. They made a nice bulge and gave him room, too. I had him buy patterned cotton briefs for his jeans. It was my rule he should be commando with dress slacks and sleepwear. As far as I was concerned, it was all about the presentation and comfort of his package. The more his eight and a half inches of pleasure was visible and noticed by other women, the hornier I became. And whenever I was aroused, I masturbated. My best orgasms occurred while thinking of women who might finger themselves as they fantasized about my Joshua. JoshuaMy hard cock is between her lips and Ruth is ravishing it. She and I have cum twice already and are about to finish our third orgasm. She is gorgeous. Her body is art-school beautiful and she has spots of dried semen in her hair, on her breasts, and on her washboard-flat tummy.I have her scent on my fingers, across my chest, and up my nose. I am trying to make her squirt again and two of my fingers are stroking her G-spot. She cums first and I feel the warmth of her fluid in my hands. Shortly after, I shoot my third and last load into her mouth. She holds it, tongue twirls it, and then lets it drip like honey onto my glans. She watches it ooze down my shaft before she sucks it up and swallows.Sex between two virgins is spectacular. Don’t let anyone tell you different.Ruth rolls off the top and nestled into my arms. It’s time for a good cuddle.“I almanbahis yeni giriş am so going to fuck your brains out one of these days.”“You better. It’s the only way this kind of abstinence makes sense.”“Abstinence makes the frond grow harder,” Ruth replies.I kiss her breast. “The love of angels on our lips; the devil rests between our hips.”This has been our… routine is not the right word. There is nothing routine about having sex with Ruth.I was ready to propose. The ring was in my pocket. I walked over to my jeans and pulled out the box. Still naked, I knelt before her and opened it.Her face scrunched up and her finger wagged in the air at me.“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare propose to me right now. We have to talk about a few things before we get to that point.“I was confused, perplexed, so I stood up. She patted a spot on the bed for me to sit.We talked for two hours about a future together. This was not the first time we talked about sex and marriage but it was the first time that the conversation was about making choices about our life together. We chose to give up coital abstinence and begin fucking. But that meant she had to go on the pill or I had to have a vasectomy or we had to use the rhythm method. We talked, too, about our lack of experience in conjugal relations with each other and with other people. We asked ourselves what that might mean in the long term. Then we talked about fidelity and whether that was important to each of us.The practical side of our Methodist upbringing taught us to talk about our specific relationship and not to confuse what was good for us with what was traditional. Ruth proposed we have sexual experiences with others before marriage. After hearing her out, I agreed.Fucking other people before marriage accomplished two things. It gave us experiences we might not have with each other and it was a test of our relationship in the real world. The question was clearly How important is fidelity in our relationship? As virgins, we couldn’t answer that question completely but we knew it was important. The only way to answer that question was to have sex with others; experimentally, of course, and not in some kind of open relationship.Although we each preferred and expected a lifetime of monogamy, we adjusted our attitude to the possibility that one or both of us might have extramarital affairs. We were oh-so-practical and adult about it.Our final plan took shape: Valentines Day conjugation, fidelity fucking for the following thirty-odd days, then four days of Spring Break to explore sex outside of our relationship. Afterward, if we survived, I’d propose and monogamy would begin again. Graduation would follow and we’d marry. That was the plan we came up with. It hit all the right buttons as far as we were concerned. RuthOh, my. A ring! I couldn’t be more excited. Knowing the path we were about to walk was intoxicating. I loved this man intently. And knowing we’d be life partners was monumental to me.But we had to be practical, too. I wasn’t about to leap without looking. Our relationship had not been stressed; had not been tested. It had been magical. I needed to know that Joshua was committed to me more than the lust that existed between us.I needed to know how he would react under duress. My major was behavioral psychology and it told me I had developed a compulsion about Joshua. I was not about to marry him if my compulsion would ultimately break him. I loved this man more than myself but my compulsion, my fetish, would probably, and ultimately, test our marriage. Could he handle it? I asked myself that question many times. JoshuaShe started it. The Titillation Games. It’s all her wonderful fault. We’d been having phenomenal erotic massages with happy endings for almanbahis giriş three months. The kissing, the caressing, the tonguing, and the pleasuring were terrific. Satisfying.Ruth kicked it up a notch just before New Year’s Day with flirtatious behaviors. Photos and public exposure. Down blouses. One breast out in a public place. Intentional upskirts, commando selfies. She taunted me.She said it was to tease and titillate. I said it was torment and torture. She said I should torment her. So I did. With dick pics.I didn’t know she would keep them. Later when I learned she’d been sharing pics of me with her girlfriend Donna, I asked her why.“I like to show you off. It turns me on to have other women drool over you. If I could, I’d have you butt naked in a room full of my girlfriends and let them finger themselves to Heaven.”“What? Okay, it sounds hot but you might regret it later.”“No. Maybe. I don’t know. I know you have a great body and I like to show you off. It makes me hot when I think other women might masturbate thinking of you. You must hate me for that. I don’t want to share you with other women, but it makes me happy to think other women pleasure themselves because of you.”“And what if I shared your pictures with my friends and they jerked-off thinking of you?”Ruth laughed, punched me, and asked if I needed a list of preferred names. What a tease. RuthI couldn’t help it. Really. It was a compulsion to show him off to women. Clothing was certainly one way but I wanted to showcase him without clothes, too. That was a little more difficult because I wanted Joshua to be an unwitting participant, not a willing one. Well, not now anyway, maybe later. For now I wanted Joshua to be unaware I was showing his body to other women.At first I took secret pictures of him on my cell phone. I would scroll through my pics with my best friend Donna. Accidentally,she could see him for an instant of time. He would be putting clothes on or taking them off. Anything that evoked the idea of him covering up or uncovering, would feed her desires and I was all-in to think Donna would masturbate to his image.Soon I was taking pictures of him sleeping. No dick pics but guns were good, butts were good, and those dreamy looking abs above the waist band of his underwear bulge were golden.I wanted Donna to comment and she did. She would say, ooh nice muscles, nice butt, or you’re so lucky.I felt good about feeding images of him to her. When she was in his presence, I could see her re-imagining what she’d seen. Within a month she was asking me if I’d taken any new pictures of him.That’s when I let her see the dick pics Joshua sent to me. All of them. Hands-on.Hands-off. Both kinds.She complimented one of them in particular. I sent it to her later and said Surprise.That evening, after Joshua fell asleep, I lay next to him and had an intense orgasm imagining Donna looking at Joshua’s dick pic and finger-fucking her cunt. I was wicked but the orgasm was wonderful. JoshuaWe rented a place in Corpus Christi through AirBNB for our consummation. Ruth was on the pill now and we were excited about Valentine’s Day.We moved the furniture and put the bed in the center of the room. We changed the bedclothes to ones we’d bought. Candles, scented oils, and Andre Bocelli music transformed the condominium into a boudoir of tranquil repose. Her words, not mine.To add ceremony, we undressed/dressed separately and met at the bed wearing white translucent clothing. It was all skin and shadows. The shadows on the surface teased us with the sexuality beneath.Over champagne and peaches, we pledged our troth, our thirty-day fidelity, and our future sexual experiences. We shared our intimate thoughts: the serious ones, the romantic ones.We chose the traditional, honorable, and sanctified-by-time-immemorial position. I was atop, Ruth beneath. Ruth opened herself to me and I lay between her thighs.I slipped my length inside. Her lips parted. She took me in. She accepted me. She conformed.