My story - We do not meet very often

We do not meet often, but he says that this is enough for us. I do not argue with him - more frequent communication, turning into a routine, would no longer give me the acuteness of the sensations that I receive now. Doses of adrenaline that spills into my blood on our dates, enough to the next meeting. Now I completely trust him. I just close my eyes and quietly give myself to his skillful and strong hands.

It was not always so. And sometimes I like to remember our first meeting.

I must say that I was somewhat delayed. My friends passed all this much earlier. And, when on girlish chats the conversation slid down on this subject, I modestly kept silent. I will not hide it, I was proud in my heart that I was able to keep myself longer than others, but sometimes I felt alarmed: suddenly I would lose time. Before going to bed, I often imagined how it would be. I knew that pain was inevitable, a little afraid, but I drove myself away from these thoughts.

On that day, I gathered for a long time, carefully selected clothes and makeup so that they did not disappoint me at the most crucial moment. But, being close to him, I realized that all this is not at all important, and the carefully selected lipstick only hinders us. I wanted to be honest with him, I told him about my fears, I asked to be gentle and tolerant with me. He readily promised this, and for some reason I believed him. I did not even notice how my body moved to another plane, and now I see before him his eyes, which inexorably approach my face. I try to withstand this look, to find understanding in it, but, having felt the light touch of his hand, close my eyes and slowly throw my head back. With horror I understand that my body refuses me: my hands convulsively scrape the air, my legs involuntarily contract, and my tongue feverishly rummages through the secluded corners of the tender flesh of the gum, trying to hide from penetration. He says gently, but demandingly, that I should relax, only so he can do everything as painlessly as possible. I try to do everything as he orders, because I'm not his first, he knows what is needed at this moment, and, I hope, understands my condition.

His hands become more insistent, the body moves forward and I feel that my weak resistance is broken. I already feel something almost inside myself. A million small needles, piercing, rush down along my spine. I involuntarily strain my back and arch my neck to meet him. And suddenly - a sharp pain, lasting only a moment. A weak moan escapes from my chest, I shudder. He stops for a second, and then continues to move forward, as if digging deeper and deeper. He, as if apologizing for the pain caused, in a low voice asks for a few more patience. A few tears run out of my eyes. No, I do not feel pain, and tears are like liberation - the obstacle is broken. Now I have managed to relax. And although the foreign body is still inside, its movements become softer, making its way to the exit. I take a deep breath when I feel my flesh free. And he says in a completely casual voice: "Well, now you can spit" and removes the drill from the drill. So my first acquaintance with this unit took place. And then I without any fear open my lips to meet his fingers and he skillfully seals my debutant.

Now we meet regularly, although not very often. Amount of adrenaline. spilled into the blood, I have enough for the entire period of our separation.