Her climax surprise me. We were in a nice comfortable rhythm when she suddenly stopped moving her hips, and went totally stiff, with her back arched. She let out a combination groan/moan/cry that rather startled me and then was still. I moved my mouth which was still around her clit, and Zeta stiffened again, loudly sighing this time; and once more I did it and she just murmured..the standby…”MMMmmmMMM!” She was still one more time.
“Oh, Drummond, no more!” Zeta said in a hoarse voice, “…drained! I ‘am absolutely drained. I can’t do that again…I might not be able to do another thing…anything…ever again…OOOhhh!”
I understood the release her orgasm had given her but, “drained”? She certainly wasn’t a gusher or squirter…I didn’t notice any of that. But every woman is different. Women aren’t like men; they don’t need to ejaculate anything to have an orgasm.
I backed my way out from between her legs, kissing her thighs along the way. Zeta giggled as I did this, “it tickled”, was the term she used. Once out, I crawled up the mattress and laid myself next to Zeta. Her eyes were and she was gently sighing. Orgasmic afterglow is a wonderful thing–a natural tranquilizer, relaxant, and mood elevator all at the same time. They’ll never be able to bottle it or put it in a pill. When they try, they just fuck things up!
As Zeta came around she said to me, “Drummond? YOU? Are you O.K.?”
I inferred that she was talking about my orgasm…or more specifically that I didn’t seem to have had one. This might be troubling to some guys but I don’t insist on having one just because my woman has had one. I suppose, in a way, that I am a traitor to my sex. Women do that all the time: get their guys off and sit there frustrated themselves. Well, I kind of do the same, except that I am rarely frustrated. If worse comes to worst, I just do what a lot of women do, too–I masturbate until I’ve gotten myself off. No fuss…well a little bit of “muss” though, you know!
“Nope, Zeta, I’m O.K., perfectly O.K.,” I said reassuringly, “may be next time…you never know.”
I threw “next time” out there just to ease her conscience and not have her think that sex with her was just a one-off, which is actually what I wanted it to be. She took the “next time” literally and therein lay the “clinker”!
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While I may be fairly good at getting into “relationships” that I would like, I am terrible at extracting myself from the ones I DON’T like or want to keep. It was thus with Zeta.
I am not sure exactly what made me so attractive to Zeta. I couldn’t have been merely the orgasm she had the first time we had sex. I have little doubt she had experienced orgasms many, many times before and, given her occupation, had access to men who had talents and cocks far more impressive than mine. As I discovered, there were also more than a more than a few women in her life who had tongues more skilled than mine, and who better understood a woman’s orgasm–how to get one and give one.
In my mind’s eye, I saw Zeta like one of those huge wrecking yard magnets that are so strong they can pick up large amounts of anything metallic. The magnets carry those loads significant distances and hold the loads there until the electricity to the magnet is switched off. Then, “BOOM” the junk drops into the freight car, furnace,…what have you.
My problem was how to switch off Zeta!
I was living in an apartment house at the time which had some rudimentary security measures in place; we needed a keypad PIN to get in the building and the garage and there were CCTV security cameras as well. Zeta found out what my PIN was–how I don’t know. The CCTV didn’t bother her either because she found out something even I didn’t know–the cameras were phonies!
It started out with Zeta calling me more frequently trying to set up another “date”. I guess my mistake was partly out of sympathy for her persistence and partly because…well…I get horny! I relented and had her up to my apartment for a couple of nights of sex. I’m not going to go into a “blow by blow” (pardon the pun) description of our activities. Suffice it to say that she gave as good as she got. She was a formidable love maker. Other than the first time we had sex, I matched her orgasm for orgasm. Oh, and yes, she did turn out to be a bit of a “squirter”–not massively, though.
I played my cards close to the vest, not disclosing very much of my sexual history–though she did intuit that Karen was one of my love interests. Zeta, on the other hand, was expansive and graphically descriptive of her past sex life. This is where she told me of her many lesbian relationships…and other sexual adventures, too. This woman was anything but a sexual lightweight.
But, the long and short of it–and I’m not talking about my cock–is that she would not let me alone. Other relationships that I had on the griddle got interfered with and disrupted. The women who knew me and really liked me, Deidre and Karen for instance, understood and commiserated; others simply disappeared from my life. I couldn’t shake Zeta.
Now is a good time to talk about Karen because she played an important part in the Zeta crisis. She felt a little guilty about introducing me to Zeta, not that it was the cause of the entire problem; and she supported me and tried to extricate me from the problem as well, as you will see.
Karen is a delight. She is a strawberry blonde, blue-blue eyed, fair skinned, ravishing creature–and a wonderful woman on top of that. Of all the women I have known, she is the one I would marry–except for the fact that she is already married. Karen, is 5’6″ (1.7m) but weighs only 110 lbs(50kg) and has petite breasts, at most a B-Cup. Karen is a lithe and willowy woman, smart, personable, and a former stage actress herself. That explains her affinity to the theater group of which Zeta is the stage manager.
She married her husband, Kurt, whom she met–much as I met Zeta–at a party following the closing of a play in which Karen had a prominent role. Kurt is a rather wealth business man with interests in a number of enterprises; not surprisingly he also has some political connections. It wasn’t long after they got married that Karen discovered that Kurt was bi-sexual–well rather more gay than bi-sexual. As time went on, Kurt did gravitate more toward male sexual companion ship but the decision was made for him to conceal, or at least be discreet, about his homosexual adventures. This worked well, except for the fact that Karen began to feel isolated and sexually frustrated.
With her husband’s resources at the disposal, she threw herself into charity work and cultural pursuits. This is what attached her to the theater group, a substantial portion of the funding coming from Kurt’s fortune–this, by the way, included Zeta’s generous salary. In some ways, Karen was better known than Kurt in the community. She was the active one locally; whereas Kurt spent most of the time off to the four corners of the earth working on his businesses and, yes, exploring sexual adventures with men of various cultures.