SUB LARA - CHAPTER 1 free porn video

CHAPTER 1

I woke up slowly and peacefully. My eyes fluttered open to the defused light of the early morning coming through the sheer curtains of my bedroom. The bigger realization of the start of the day was I was still in the arms of a man. Well, maybe it was more like my arm was d****d over his lower rib cage as I lay on my side, which is why my eyes took in the filtered light of the window on the other side of the room. I kissed his upper chest/shoulder where my head was resting and I wiggled my naked body up tighter to his naked form and sighed deeply … my god, what a man.

I raised my head and sought out the bedside alarm clock. It read 6:20. I knew he had set the alarm for 6:30. That allowed him time to shower, shave, and dress with enough time to safely make the drive to his assignment. He allowed an hour, though it was probably a 40 to 45-minute drive during rush hour. But, I knew he would never be late for an assignment. It was one of his rules. He lived by his rules, but somehow, he still managed to be spontaneous and unpredictable, especially when he was relaxed. He confided that he had a problem with ‘relaxed’ but it was one of the things he found happened easier around me. Little things make you feel good. That was one of them for me.

That 10 minutes wasn’t much time, not enough time, but it was sufficient to remind him. So, I snaked my way under the top sheet we slept under, sliding down along his muscular body, giving that body a kiss periodically along the way until I came to his snake. More like an anaconda as far I was concerned. I might have run away the first time I saw it but the relationship we anticipated then seemed worth the trial of this monster. Flaccid, as it was now, his cock is 6-½ inches long. Fully erect, it is 11-½ inches long and 3 inches wide. After a few times together, when it seemed like we might have something real between us, I wanted to measure it. He resisted, feeling embarrassed and sensitive about it, but I persisted until he gave in. Half his size would be about normal in the world.

As I gently picked it up from where it was d****d between his legs and brought it to lay on his left thigh, I still found it amazing. I was sure our earliest attempts at sex were as frustrating for him as it was for me. But, as I would no sooner reject a relationship with a guy with a small penis, I wasn’t going to reject one because he had a penis that seemed too big. It deserved a good patient effort and patient effort is what it took, patience on his part and effort on mine.

My fingertips lightly stroked his limp cock as it lay in front of me. I liked tracing the thick veins that came out along the surface and even that little touch caused it to react slightly as if it really were a snake coming to life. But, with limited time available to me, I moved my face to the head, kissing it, licking it, and finally taking the head inside my lips and mouth where my tongue swirled around helmet and slit while my lips clamped around it and sucked. I started moving my head to take more of his cock into my mouth, pushing it in and pulling it back as it got slicker and smoother with my saliva.

I like the feel of my mouth being full of growing, hard flesh. My efforts were quickly rewarded as the snake grew in my fingers and mouth. Sucking cock was always something I didn’t mind, but this experience was so different and intriguing. I could wrap both hands around his erect cock and still engulf the head of it in my mouth. Attentive and loving kissing and licking of the length was like a journey from the head to the base and equally large ball sack. As a result, I enjoyed spending time just doing that: licking, kissing and sucking this cock.

I felt a disturbance in my meditation of everything cock as Jake patted around trying to find my head. When he did, he stroked my head from over the sheet and mumbled, “Mmmmmmm … soooooooo much better than an alarm …” I smiled around a mouth full of cock despite my mouth being stretched by the size of it. “Would you consider doing this on a regular basis?”

I giggled but was still around his cock and had no idea what that might have sounded like to him. I pull my mouth off with a slurping suction sound, kissing the head at the end. From under the sheet, I suggested to him, “You might want to turn the alarm off before …” But, it was too late. The buzzer sounded and he rolled to reached for the alarm but my mouth had reattached to his cock causing him to rotate his shoulders and upper body. He threw the sheet off us and I looked up at him with another distorted smile around his cock.

He was looking down at me and flatly said, “You know I have to get moving.”

I slipped my mouth off his cock and pouted up to him, “But I want to play.”

He grabbed me by the arms and effortlessly pulled me up to him. “I can see that, but …”

“You’re no fun.” He stared into my pouting eyes and I broke, giving him a big smile and kiss. “Yes, you are fun.” I started to swing my left leg over his midsection and he rolled off the bed.

He waggled a finger at me. “Good try, dear.” We both laughed. I love this playfulness and he saw it for what it was. He knew I respected his desire and need to be on time for these appointments and he appreciated my pretending to try to mount him. I told him I would get the coffee ready and a light breakfast as he got ready. My office was much closer so I could get ready after he left.

I gave him a hug and kiss at the door, he was stroking my bare back and bending over to fondle my ass. “We’re still on for dinner tonight? You’ll let me know what you think of my idea?” I nodded at him and I know I blushed. His idea seemed outrageous. His idea was the most exciting thing I had ever considered.

He smiled at me like he was thinking about taking me into the hall and fucking me right there. I hoped fucking me would come after dinner. Not in the hall, though, I hoped.

“I will pick you up here at 6:30. Wear THAT dress.” My eyes opened wide and he nodded. Then he left. I stepped back into the apartment and closed the door, leaning against it and suddenly realized I had been standing in the open doorway naked as I saw him off. God, I have never felt the way I do with him. And that dress! He had taken me out in search of a special dress. We ventured to many of the exquisite dress shops in Atlanta until he saw this one. When I tried it on, I initially wouldn’t come out of the dressing room to show him. It took me five minutes to work up the nerve, but, as in most things with me, he was exceptionally patient. The dress was a thin satin. It was loose about my body and attached by halter ties behind the neck. The back and sides were bare and it hung down the front, wrapping around to barely covering my ass crack, and ending at mid-thigh. There was no way to wear a bra and the garment had no built-in cups. As I tried it on, I could see that I couldn’t wear a panty or thong as either would show under the material and ruin the smooth shape of it on my body. Depending on how the dress gapped by my position it was possible to see the sides of my breasts either on the sides or down the low V-neckline in front. And, if that didn’t make me feel exhibited enough, the material without a bra clung to my nipples. When they became erect, it showed clearly. And, I had a very real tendency to be excited when I was with him. At the same time, he bought me 4-inch strap heels to match the silver colored dress.

His assignment was finishing today and he would again be leaving to return to his home in Florida the next day. Our relationship had progressed in ways neither of us might have expected initially and the dinner tonight was to address his idea for our relationship going to the next level. If I could agree. If I could commit. If I had the courage.

I tried to do the work I had spread out in front of me on the desk and loaded to the dual monitors of my computer. My mind, though, continued to wander over the months preceding tonight’s dinner and everything that had led the two of us to this point in time and place. All the things that led us to the understandings, decisions, and commitments that would be a part of this dinner. Was I ready for this? Forget the emotional reaction, did calm reason and analysis make this the right thing? How do I leave emotion out of the consideration, though? Was it even possible for me to ignore emotion?

* * * * *

It was almost a year ago that my life fell into a wretched spiral of emotional, psychological, and physical misery. No, that wasn’t even right. A year ago was just another episode of the spiral. The truth was that despite my many accomplishments in high school academics and athletics, college academics and athletics, and my work, I was a mess when it came to my personal life and intimacy.

The very weird part of it, though, was that by all appearances, it would seem that I should have had the world by the tail. I was an attractive white woman of 27 years, 5’ 4” tall and 120 pounds on a fit and trained body. My hair was long, to the middle of my back, and was a wavy auburn that shined with color in the sun. I lettered in swimming and soccer in high school, made the soccer team in college on a scholarship but never did crack the starting lineup. Although I didn’t make the swimming team, it continued to be an integral form of exercise along with running and resistance training. I felt good and I looked good.

I graduated from the University of Georgia with a BS in Accounting and an MBA in Financial Analysis. I was immediately recruited and hired by Innovative Financial Management where I have been for the past 3 years working as an Account Analyst and reporting to an Account Manager. Little did I know that one of the accounts I worked on with the Account Manager would turn out to be that of the man I would eventually being having a very life-changing dinner with.

Innovative Financial Management is one of the most successful and creative (innovative) financial management firms in the US. We are headquartered locally in suburban Atlanta, GA, with regional offices located around the country where significant groups of clients are congregated. Currently, offices are located in 14 states covering approximately 76% of our clients. We don’t work with just anyone, however. Clients are accepted with the satisfaction of having the necessary available assets and goals for financial wealth growth and management. The minimum consideration is a million dollars of manageable assets and a very expensive home or such wealth doesn’t count. There have to be sufficient assets available to manage with those of other clients with similar wealth growth goals to leverage the marketplace. That is what is unique about the company.

Innovative Financial Management is at the vanguard of a profound shift in finance: the move away from brokers and mutual fund companies who sell products for a fee and toward firms offering truly independent, low-cost investment advice. These new firms are a registered investment advisor and Innovative Financial Management is one of the largest, responsible for the assets of clients totaling nearly $41 billion. As the independent advisory industry has grown, Innovative Financial Management has grown faster, with assets exploding from $50 million in 2004 to their current $41 billion. A quote in a prominent national financial publication had our president saying, “It’s horrible, people don’t even know that they are paying someone to sell them something. Here is the bottom line: Compensation drives behavior. If someone is going to be paid to sell their own product, guess what product is going to be recommended to the investor?” We don’t sell financial products; we don’t get commission for the products we recommend and the trades suggested. The size of the combined client worth allows a unique ability to hold down the cost of financial dealing, which increases the return for the client.

And, within the firm, I was a rising star. My client account analysis and recommendations to my Account Manager were always spot on, which allows him to focus more on the client’s needs and struggles. Even I believed my life should have been really good. Until there was another spiral.

My spirals? Guys. Always guys. Since high school, it has been guys. There was always something about myself that I never understood or maybe accepted. But, so many relationships ended in that downward spiral. I excelled at so many things like education, athletics, and work. Why couldn’t I do the same with guys?

Then, one day, early morning at the coffee shop in the strip mall close to the office, I was confronted with my latest very angry and demanding ex-boyfriend. In that very public space, he shouted, threatened, and finally pushed me. Out of nowhere, a hand clamped around my forearm to keep me from falling to the ground. He stepped in front of me, standing between me and the ex. This man blocked out the view of the ex like the sun does to the moon during a lunar eclipse. Only this sun was a massive black guy. The ex was stupid enough in his rage to charge, but the effect was lost on this man. With a hand on the throat, he turned the ex and escorted him out the door. There was a commotion outside that I didn’t see so it might not have ended so peacefully as it seemed to me.

I was still standing stunned in the shop as people came to me, other regulars who didn’t know each other but knew each other. My rescuer never returned, however. At least not that day.

Over a week later, it happened, again. This time the ex was even more enraged and quite possibly drunk, even so early in the day. He seemed to have stoked the shame of the earlier episode on top of what he felt about me and exploded into something more outrageous than I had ever witnessed from him before. This time I saw the man coming through the door. The ex didn’t.

When it was over, he led me outside to a bench by a sidewalk green space nearby. We talked. Out of this very large and intimidating man came gentleness and security that I simply opened up to. We talked and talked. My coffee became cold without drinking it. Then, it occurred to me to check the time and I was going to be late to work. I thanked him. I didn’t know what else to say to the man who had saved me twice. In the office, I couldn’t even remember what we talked about, but it seemed that I did most of the talking. In a weird sort of way, it felt cleansing to confess my troubles and faults to someone. And, who better than someone you may never see, again.

Several weeks later, a friend of a friend of a friend that had some contact between us made it known that the ex had been in the hospital. There seemed to be a lot of confusion about what had happened. Some said he fell down some stairs, others that he was beaten up in a bar brawl, others that he was mugged. Regardless of what happened, when he got out of the hospital, he moved out of town without telling anyone where he was going. It was the last time I ever heard about the ex.

Several weeks after that bit of news I was again sitting in the coffee shop, feeling comfortable and safe in my routine, again. I was sitting next to the window sipping my coffee, watching the movement of the morning outside.

“It’s rather crowded here today; would you mind if I shared your table?”

I looked up absently, then surprise took over my reaction. It was him. The black guy, my rescuer, the sun that blocked out the moon guy. The guy. I smiled embarrassedly at the delay in responding as he waited for my mind to process all those thoughts. “Please, yes, please.”

“Thank you.” He put out his hand, “My name is Jake, Lara.”

I shook the offered hand, but cocked my head to the side and peered at him. “How did you know my name was Lara?”

He smiled and pointed down to my cardboard cup. They put your name on the cup to know who to call when it is ready. Nice move, Lara, smooth.

This time our talk wasn’t rushed or mixed with tears and looking over my shoulder. But, I still had to get to the office. He asked if he could take me to an early dinner, someplace close to the office, very public and casual. He wanted to talk some more. He expressed his concern and hoped I was doing well. How could I refuse?

Again, he managed to get me to talk and when I started it was like a floodgate finally opening to release all the pent-up frustrations and feelings of hopelessness. It was then that he gave me a card after he wrote a name and phone number. He slid it across the table to me and assured me this woman could help me. It was on the back of his business card, Jake Baylor, Personal Protection & Security. On the back he had written, Jenna Albertson, PsyD, and a phone number.

“Call her, Lara. Please. She did wonders for me.” I did.

“How is it that you know Jake Baylor?” I was sitting across the desk from Dr. Jenna Albertson in her office, which was cloaked in subdued lighting. When I called Dr. Jenna Albertson’s office to inquire about a preliminary appointment, I was shocked that I could get in to see her almost immediately. It had never occurred to me this man I scarcely knew not only would recommend the doctor but also call ahead to smooth my path with her. I gave her the history, then she naturally and comfortably pulled more of my history from me over the next half hour of mostly me talking.

After I stopped talking, it was as if I needed to catch my breath. I realized how liberating it was to confess all this to someone. And, another stranger. It was as if I was internally ready to move forward. All I needed was to be shown how.

She recommended a battery of tests and more discussion. I assured her I was ready to try anything that would help me understand and adapt my life. I told her my goal, what I hoped for at the end, was for a personal life that felt as good as the other parts of my life. She expressed confidence, which surprised me. There was something Jake had picked up on and the doctor seemed to share some insight, also.

We met twice a week for a couple months and the discussion and revelations along the way inspired me to put deep thought and consideration into each session. I didn’t see Jake at all during this time and I wasn’t sure what to make of that. At first, it was just a recognition that we didn’t really know each other or have anything of a connection except that he had helped me and he might only be a bright spot along my road of life. But, that wasn’t enough. Even if that was all we were going to be, I wanted, needed, to thank him.

When I finally worked up the courage to call him, he sounded as excited to hear my voice as I had been in hoping to see him. He explained that he was unsure about bothering me as I was working with Jenna, as he called her. I thanked him, again, for his consideration and thoughtfulness, then laughed that I seemed to be thanking him a lot. He laughed in response. It was an easy, comfortable laugh and it made me feel warm. He asked about the sessions and I offered my excitement about the doctor’s confidence. He seemed genuinely pleased.

He called me a few days later. I was sitting in the coffee shop, as usual, when my phone chimed. “Hello?”

“It’s crowded and I was hoping I could share your table.”

“Jake!” We talked until I had to leave for the office. I did much of the talking and we laughed. But, he shared some, too. I learned that he didn’t live in Atlanta, not even in Georgia. He had been a professional football player with the Falcons, but after retiring he found a dream piece of property in Florida. He comes to Atlanta for assignments and other meetings. When we disconnected, I was smiling. It wasn’t that he was avoiding me, he wasn’t even here!

After a few weeks, we were talking by phone every other day or so. Sometimes I called him, other times he called me. Near the end of my planned sessions with the doctor, it was 10:30 PM and I was just dozing off when the phone chimed. I mumbled a greeting of some kind.

“Is this too late?”

I shifted to leaning my back against the headboard. “Never.”

“It sounds like you were asleep, but you’re awake now.” He chuckled and I mumbled some confirmation. “I’m stuck in Denver, a big snow storm has canceled everything and it has been some long, irritating days. I knew what would make me feel better, though.”

“Thank you, Jake. Can I ask why you were out there?”

“Of course. I was babysitting some musician in Aspen for the past three days. I never heard of him, but he could afford me. I will tell you, though, after three days with this guy, I will never look for his music.”

I laughed, then, “I won’t ask then. I just hope he isn’t on my playlist.” He laughed.

“I should let you get back to sleep. Like I said, I thought it would help to hear your voice … I was right, it did.”

It was quiet for a moment or more. I wasn’t sure what to say or expect. But, Dr. Jenna had been pushing me to be more aware of what was happening, to understand more what was happening. “Jake, can I ask you something?” Another, ‘of course’ came back. “Are we having a long-distance relationship?”

“I sure hope so …” I smiled. It didn’t make it easier to fall back to sleep, though.

The next morning, he called, again. He had rescheduled his flights home from Denver. He created a four-hour layover in Atlanta and wanted to meet for lunch at an Applebee’s by the airport. He said he had something he wanted to give me.

At the restaurant, I got a table and settled in, understanding the uncertainty of airline schedules. When I spotted him entering, I stood up and waved. When he got to the table, he took my arm before I could slide back into the booth, pulled me to him, raised my chin, and kissed me on the lips. Our first kiss. What he wanted to give me was our first kiss. It hadn’t sunk into me until I was pulled into his chest and turning my head up to kiss him just how tall he was. I am 5’ 4”, which is a little shorter than average, but he was 6’ 3” and 220 pounds of muscle which is bigger than average. I might need to wear taller heels from now on.

My final meeting with Dr. Jenna summarized all we had a discussed, resolved, and learned. It was clear to her from the beginning (and probably Jake, as well) that I had a submissive personality. She had explained that a healthy submissive has often walked through the fire of trial and error and arrived at a level of awareness that can serve as a guide in relationships. I hadn’t managed to come out of the trial and error part with a healthy understanding of my personal, intimate relationships.

She reviewed the key points of submissiveness:
* A healthy submissive feels no threat to his or her value or standing as a person. Both parties are worthy, individual human beings with needs.
* Submissive people, however, are keenly aware of what others need. They find much of their happiness in meeting those needs and being of service.
* Healthy submissive people are anything but lazy. They’re up to the task and can be depended upon to get things done. This is because they actually care about genuinely pleasing those in authority over them.
* A healthy submissive person avoids conflict and misunderstanding by entering relationships with boundaries and expectations established.
* Healthy submissive people find causes and people to serve. And they find joy in such service.
* Healthy submissive people have high self-esteem. Someone with deep self-awareness, who does not give trust away lightly, who is aware of needs, works hard, maintains clear boundaries, and enjoys peace of mind.

As Dr. Jenna reinforced, it was then easy to see why I excelled in school, athletics, and the work place. I was with authority figures I respected and trusted and who gave explicit goals, expectations, and clearly understood boundaries of what to expect and the roles of each. I was able to focus completely on those goals and expectations and performed them to a high standard. The opposite was true of my personal life, however. I took the same strong desire and need to please, but it was directed at someone who didn’t or couldn’t provide clear and respectful goals and expectations. When my trust broke down, the reaction from boyfriends deteriorated until abuse became the driver to get results from me. The relationship was perverted from a free and joyful desire to please and serve into forcing compliance from me.

Before I left that last meeting, I paused at the door, “My personal relationships have been my problem areas. How will I know for sure?”

“There is no way to know 100%. But, now you understand much more about what you are and what makes you tick. I think you knew before, you just didn’t understand. You were confused by your need to please and the negative person you were trying to please. I think now you know the difference. Your need to please and serve must be directed at someone you can trust and who respects you. Remember your coaches and your manager.”

Several weeks later, he is coming to Atlanta on Friday for a meeting at the company. My company. It turns out the Account Manager I report to has been managing Jake’s account. I never realized it because I had the unique habit of not looking at client names, only the account goals and numbers. I always thought it would provide me with the best dispassionate analysis. My manager agreed, failing to ever find fault with my analysis or recommendations for modifications for asset distribution to stay on track with the stated financial goals. Jake warned me that he was requesting the Account Analyst to be present because he had some thoughts about modifications that could affect his account status.

As the meeting began, I held a pleasant expression while being introduced to Jake. After a review of his account, I asked about the changes he was thinking about. I had our analysis program loaded with his numbers inserted to make it easier to simulate modifications.

“I’m thinking about reducing my travel, which could affect my income. At least temporarily until I find other sources to compensate locally.”

I deadpanned my reaction, “Really, what’s driving that, if I can ask?”

“A personal situation. I’m thinking about wanting to spend more time at home.” I glanced up at him and found him watching me. “Let’s cut it in half and see what it looks like.”

I modified his current income coming from the side of his work that required the most travel. I also stole a look at his bottom-line. Wow. I suppose it might be obscene to fully retire at 35 years old. We played with various scenarios and he thanked us, promising to let us know what he decides to do if anything.

At dinner that night, I probed, “What was that all about? The travel thing?”

“You.” I looked at him from across the table covered with plates and wine glasses. He smiled. “Passion.” I furrowed my eyebrows at him. He laughed. “When I left football because of that concussion, I lost the one thing I had a passion for. I walked away for my long-term health, which was the right thing. But, it was depressing to wake up the next day and understand with certainty that I would never have that feeling of teammates, common goal and effort, and passion for what I was doing. It was very depressing. That’s how Jenna helped me.” He smiled at something. “It took me a lot longer than it did you.” He gazed at me. “She convinced me to find something I could pour my energy into. The work I do is good. I’ve built a successful business while still keeping it small, just for me.” He looked away, then brought his gaze back to my eyes. “But you … you’ve given me a feeling of something very different. Something I can feel excited about. I want to spend more time with you. I don’t want to screw this up.”

My eyes twinkled and I leaned forward, speaking in a very low voice. “Did I hear you right? You DON’T want to screw me?”

His face became more serious, “Lara, I am serious.” Then he smiled, “By the way, just so there is no misunderstanding, yes, I want to screw you.”

He shared more than I had ever heard. It was as if he was laying his cards out for me to see and know what I had in front of me. Right after high school, where he had been a standout football player, he enlisted into the Army seeing two tours of combat while serving his six years. He used the GI Bill to go to college where he, again, was a standout defensive end. Without finishing college, he was drafted by the Atlanta Falcons while in his junior year, hence his connection to Atlanta. He played six years for the Falcons, going to the Pro Bowl the last two full seasons. A significant concussion made him start thinking about his future and, unlike many other players faced with similar situations, he chose to retire based on his personal doctor’s recommendation. That’s when the depression set in and when Dr. Jenna came into the picture. After working through his issues with her, he looked at options, not having a college degree, and settled on protection and security. He got professional training and worked solely on special assignments and request, preferring to be on his own.

He was an anomaly in pro sports and was one of the exceptions that saved and invested the mountains of money successful athletes get thrown at them. Shortly after retiring, he was introduced to Innovative Financial Management.

I looked at the man across from me with new appreciation and wonder. All that he has experienced and only 35 years old. At 6’ 3” and 220 pounds, he was a giant next to me, but he said he “slimmed down” from his playing weight of 240. A giant black man and a tanned white woman, we must present quite an image.

He walked me into the foyer of my apartment building. I stopped and pressed myself into him, looking up at him despite my 2-½ inch heels. I think I might need to try 4 inchers. “I want you to come up. I want you to spend the night.”

“Are you sure? You’ve come off a bad thing, Lara. I can be patient.”

“We’ve been patient. Besides, that was months ago.” I tried giving him a coquettish look, but the smile that broke over my face ruined it. “Please …” He became thoughtful and the quiet was deafening. I gave him a kiss and began stepping back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed …”

He reached out, took my hand and stopped me. “No, I was just thinking … I have a hotel room for two nights.”

“Two nights? You’re not leaving until Sunday?”

He nodded. “I hoped if tonight went well I could see you again Saturday night, too. This might be forward of me, but … well, the hotel has a restaurant, bar, pool, a pond with a walking path and benches, and …”

I raised up and put my arms around his neck to kiss him. Pulling back slightly, “So, the option to my apartment is going to your hotel room tonight …”

He added, “… and not having to leave it until Sunday.” I smiled, turned and moved to the elevator. “Where are you going?”

As the door began to close, “Wait right there. I’m just going to throw some things into a bag.”

It was an Embassy Suites with a sitting room and separate bedroom. Jake dropped my bag just inside the door where he stopped. I looked at him, at the bedroom, at him, again. He stood there. I remembered, ‘I don’t want to screw this up’. And, I remembered the other clarification, too.

I took his hand and pulled him into motion, taking him into the bedroom. I kicked off my heels and pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed. I leaned into him, kissing him as my fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, pulling the bottom from his slacks, and slipping it off his shoulders and down his arms. I pulled back and looked. My god! Naked from the waist up, his body was muscle. Thick, full shoulders, wide slabs of muscle on his chest, his stomach flat even sitting. I licked my lips, which seemed obscene in reflection, but I was afraid I might be drooling.

I pushed him back to lie on the bed and as I kissed down his stomach, my fingers working his belt and slacks. My hand slid over the front of his slacks and I felt him underneath. My thought was, ‘he’s already hard’. I worked the clasp, then the zipper, feeling him tense slightly but ignoring it. My kissing stopped at the top of his underwear. I moved to my knees to remove his shoes and socks, stood and put out my hands to him to stand up. He took my hands but stood up on his own, thankfully. He was almost twice my weight and despite my intentions, I wasn’t sure I could pull him up.

I stood in front of him, kissing him, and working my lips with kisses down his body, only quicker this time. My fingers at the tops of his slacks and underwear, I dropped to my knees and pulled them down his thighs. My face was at the height of his cock, but what I saw when his slacks dropped was not the hard cock I thought I felt. I gasped and my mouth stayed open in surprise, if not shock. His cock was soft … limp … flaccid … pick the word, it wasn’t yet hard. It was still about the largest cock I had seen, even ones hard. I would learn that his cock was 6-½ inches long when soft. I would learn that because I would eventually be measuring it.

I looked up at his face and found him looking down at me. His face was full of concern, uncertainty, fear even. I gave him a smile, then continued to assist him out of his slacks. I pushed him back onto the bed, “Crawl up onto the bed.”

I stood at the end of the bed, reached my hands behind me and unzipped my dress, shrugging it off my shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. In a lace bra and thong with sheer stay-up stockings, I crawled up alongside him, pressing my body against his nakedness. My left hand slid up his body to the side of his face as I took his lips and mouth with mine. I didn’t stay there long, though. My fingers and lips quickly moved down his body until I came into contact with his cock, again. My lips kiss and licked the head as my fingers slide down the length of it to cup and fondle his balls. I stroked his cock as I licked, then slipped my mouth over the large head. All the while, his cock grew under the attention provided to it. By the time I felt I had it fully hard, my mouth was stretched to have the head inside. I held it up with my two hands wrapped around the shaft, one above the other, and I could still lower my mouth over the head. I would later measure it at 11-½ inches when hard with a width of 3 inches. It was massive.

I mumbled, “My god! It’s huge, I don’t think I can …” I wasn’t aware of even verbalizing it.

But, Jake must have heard me. He rolled to the side and off the bed, moving to the large window and pulling the curtains back to stare outside.

“Jake? What?” I followed him to the window, standing behind him, my arms around him, my hands on his chest. “Talk to me, Jake. What’s wrong?”

“It’s okay, Lara. It’s happened before. Some women have almost run away.”

I grabbed him and turned him. “Look at me! I am not them. I am right here. I happen to think this relationship can change my life. Sex is important to a healthy relationship. Yes, I believe that. But, I am NOT letting a little thing … okay, a big thing … like this get in the way.”

“You’re a small woman … you think …”

“I know. What am I, Jake? What am I really? All my life in school, sports, and work I have excelled at challenges. Given a task, a problem, a goal, an expectation and I work it until I found the solution. I excel at that.” He looked at me, but a smile slowly formed. I smiled back. Trust was showing through in both directions. “Now, get back on that bed. I have an idea.”

* * * CHAPTER 2 to follow * * * Thanks for reading.