I’ve talked about Decker’s cock before. You know what I think of it. But having it inside added a couple of stars to every category of its rating profile. For one thing, it was firm not plastic hard like my vibrators; there was some flex to it which only made it more effective in its ability to stimulate…well…what needed to be stimulated. For another, it was attached to Decker!
His body against mine, the feel of his hairy chest against my miniscule but sensitive boobs, the friction of his pubic hair against my smooth pubis, was heavenly. I’m sorry, but I think most men don’t really appreciate those sensations that they give women. I don’t think they are really aware. Maybe some really good male lovers are, but I can tell you EVERY woman is.
I have been asked many times why I like making love to another woman; and, no matter how much explaining I do, the one thing that comes up is that a woman understands another woman and what it takes to bring each other to orgasm. Bodies together, and what sensations they produce…women understand. Men can create that, and they have a penis to enhance the process, but I don’t think many men…especially that asshole I was married to…really understand it. They might work that magic but they really don’t know what that magic is. A woman knows!
Meanwhile, back at the penetration, Decker’s cock was deep within me now, rhythmically thrusting and withdrawing. He was patient, taking his time, not rushing. My haste to start fucking was replaced by the delicious sensations of actually fucking. And don’t give me this “mythical” G-Spot stuff. It IS real, it IS there. Don’t ask me where “There” is but it is in there. Sometimes, when I’m masturbating, I can get to it with my fingers inside my vagina but that damned spot migrates. I know generally the area it’s in but even I, masturbateur extraordinaire, can’t find it every time. Some people postulate that a male penis can’t even contact it.
Well, to all of those doubters, I can testify to the fact that a male penis can do it. Decker’s was the first to do it for me…kind of like the first moon landing, at least in my book. One small stroke for a man; one giant leap for my G-Spot! Decker got me there.
When my orgasm topped out, when I came, it was monumental. I gushed and gushed and gushed. I’m sure G-Spot was the reason. And it didn’t stop there. Decker was still inside me and he hadn’t climaxed yet. He was aware of my orgasm…how could he not? My “lady-cum” was all over the bed and HIM! But he kept pumping away and another wave of orgasm would take me…. and again…and again. It’s not that my orgasm stopped; it just lessened for a spell and then soared again. I was really beginning to feel that they would never stop, that we would finished our fucking and I would be left with a continuing orgasm for ever–interesting to speculate on but, if you think about it, a truly frightening prospect at the level I was experiencing it.
Finally, when I was starting to feel that I couldn’t take another minute of the sweet pain, Decker climaxed. I felt it when he stopped his thrusting, body tensing, and his male cry of release and pleasure…stillness…and withdrawing. The condom worked! I felt no cum inside me, and I’m sure I would have known, as sensitive as my vagina had become. WHEW!
Decker pulled his condom covered cock out of me, rolled over…actually tumbled over…on to his side, and laid next to me with his eyes closed. He didn’t say a word but I could tell from his breath that he was spent…exhausted. He went right to sleep, condom in situ. He was so out that he didn’t stir when I slid the condom off of his penis. I cleaned off his cock with a tissue. I knew what to do with a condom half full of cum. No, no, NO! I’m not THAT kind of woman! I flushed it straightaway!
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I mulled over my experience having intercourse with…o.k., fucking…Decker. Though mechanically the same, in general, it was an entirely different experience than the ordeals I had to go through with my ex-(I wish it were “late”)husband. With him, there was no foreplay, let alone any romance; there was no consideration for the state of my vagina, let alone my feelings; and there was absolute indifference as to whether or not I got pregnant, let alone whether I enjoyed it or not. I believe that’s enough to drive practically any woman away from men, though, unfortunately many…maybe most…won’t go.
That’s not to say that those women will become lesbians. That treatment by my husband didn’t make me a lesbian, I believe I always was…I had an interest in women from an early age even before I know what “sex” was…but it certainly convinced me that I wanted no part of men ever again. I understand now what that was all about, so having sex with a man…good sex with a man…is not impossible for me, even if my primary preference is for sex with a woman. Now, if that is the definition of “bi-sexual”, I guess I’m there. I’d notify LGBTQ immediately…if I were a member!
I was loving to Decker after he woke up from his post-coital “nap”. I told him how much I appreciated his patience with me and…well, of course…I complimented him effusively on his “cocksmanship”, always good to stroke the male ego, I say. He seemed a little down which I attributed to post-coital triste’, that paradoxical sadness that sometimes occurs after sex. But it remained with him all that night. It was there when we woke up in the morning.
As usual, I woke up at 5:00AM. What amazed me was that Decker was already awake!
“Decker, is there something wrong? Something bothering you?” I asked with concern, “is there anything I can do?”
“Actually, no, Lin,” Decker said with sadness in his voice, “I wish there were.”
My blood ran cold, just like that time when I thought Decker told me he loved me, only this time I knew in my heart that it was different.
“Lin, listen, I love you,” he started out, “you know that, so don’t fret. These things have a way of working themselves out. Here, kiss me!”
We kissed, and hugged, and I got ready for work. Decker stayed behind because he said he had a late morning class and wanted to catch a couple more “zzz’s”. Giving him a good-by kiss, I told him to put his key through the slot.
And then… Decker disappeared!
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When I came home from work that night, everything looked as it should be. My key was on the floor near the mail slot, my apartment was in order, so I had no reason to wonder about Decker. I didn’t start to wonder until four days later when I hadn’t heard anything from him. Now, I knew that Decker had his share of problems and, like that one week in the past, he dropped out of sight, but at least some texts popped up. This time nothing.
I followed up at his school and the frat house. Nobody had seen him. I checked with his Insurance Agency, they told me he hadn’t been in and the chalked it up to his school workload. I filed a missing persons report with the police department, they treated it as routine even though I told them he was an Army veteran who had been diagnosed with PTSD. I had Gar scour the records to see if Decker had been admitted to any local hospitals, or arrested somewhere. Gar even checked the morgue records. Nothing. His credit cards and debit cards hadn’t been used. The Police did check the CCTV security cameras in the area but nothing. Traffic cams didn’t help much because he didn’t have a car, and we knew where the car was. It was maddeningly frustrating.