Learning the Lifestyle Pt 13 The Party Pt 1
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Learning To Love Again free porn video
I was learning to love again.
This was what Emily wanted for me before she walked out on our marriage. At the time, it had angered me that she felt she could make such a request. I wanted to tell her that she knew about love, yes, but hers was deranged.
But, I didn’t say that. Instead, I asked her if her nineteen year old boyfriend could drive yet.
“Sign the papers, John,” she said.
Two years passed before I felt ready to follow Emily’s request.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t get over her. I realized that our marriage had ended long before the I had signed the divorce papers.
I needed those two years because I was nervous to put myself out there. Emily had been the only woman I had seriously dated (she had also been the only woman I had slept with).
At first, I tried meeting women on sites like OkCupid and e-Harmony. In the unlikely event that a woman found our stunted, online conversations engaging enough to agree to meet me in person, I would bail at the last minute, feigning a sick (sometimes dead) relative.
One day, I shared my dating woes with my niece. This was at a family barbecue in Caledon, Ontario. I had stepped inside the cottage we were renting to lie on the couch when I found Cassandra occupying that space.
I wasn’t sure if she noticed me because her phone was right in front of her eyes but when I tried to sneak around her to go to one of the bedrooms on the second level, she asked me where I was going.
I wondered how she had noticed me because she hadn’t looked up from her phone.
“I was planning on taking a nap,” I said.
“Could I ask for your advice on something?”
I had always been pretty close with my sister’s daughter. Emily had never wanted children, and I had never fought her on the subject, even though I very much wanted a child. At eighteen, I felt that Cassandra would have been around the same age as my daughter, if I ever had one.
She brought her knees up to her chest to make room for me on the couch.
“Uncle John, how’s your dating life?”
“Well — um — that’s not any of your business, Cassandra, is it?” I asked.
“Poorly, then.”
“I’ve spoken to a few women online. I just haven’t found one that feels...” I groped for the right words.
“…like how Emily made you feel?” Cassandra offered.
“I’m not looking for a replacement for Emily.”
“Good. You should stay away from women who look like they might leave a twenty-year marriage for a college brat.”
Cassandra’s phone buzzed while I thought about how a woman who leaves twenty-year marriages for college students might look , and if Emily fit the picture. She began typing something, and then, without warning, she took my picture.
Startled, I tried to swipe her phone from her, but she held it just out of my reach.
“Uncle John, I’m trying to set you up with someone,” she said
“With who?”
Cassandra turned her phone screen to me. Staring back at me was a gorgeous blonde lady with green eyes and full, pink lips. She looked as though she had stepped straight out of a YA novel (I was embarrassed to admit that I still read those).
“Her name is Samantha, but don’t call her ‘Sam’ — she hates that,” Cassandra said, registering my interest. “I met her in one of my first-year courses but she’s actually a grad student taking some undergraduate credits for her research project.”
“A grad student?”
It surprised me that this woman was old enough to be in grad school— she looked to be around Cassandra’s age.
“She’s twenty-six. She just works out a lot,” Cassandra said, perhaps seeing my confusion. “I sent her a picture of you.”
“And?”
Cassandra showed me a text exchange between herself and Samantha. Right below the picture Cassandra had sent of me, Samantha had replied with the tongue sticking out emoji and the squirt emoji. I wasn’t sure what either of those meant but Cassandra assured me they were good signs.
“I want you to be happy, Uncle John,” Cassandra said. “And I know it’s 2018 and you don’t need a girlfriend to be happy and blah, blah, blah.” And here Cassandra rolled her eyes. “But, you need to have strong relationships. You don’t even have friends.”
Ouch. Teenagers could be mean.
Cassandra continued, “I don’t know the full story around Emily. Honestly, I’m not sure if you even know the full story. But, Emily is gone, and, I imagine, happy. You deserve to be happy, too. Don’t you think so?”
I first met Samantha at a coffee shop in Toronto. She turned her head when I called her name, her hair catching the wind and temporarily framing her face in light.
Our first date was only supposed to be an hour. We agreed that we wanted to get to know each other before we decided if we wanted to become an item. However, when two hours passed, and neither of us were ready to leave, I offered to take her out to dinner.
She accepted.
Samantha was incredible. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also intelligent, funny, entertaining, curious, witty, ambitious.
I could go on forever.
One date became two.
Then four.
Then six.
She kissed me on the seventh date because she was tired of waiting for me to kiss her. I French kissed her on our eighth date because I wanted very badly to dip my tongue into the same place where I hoped that she would one day say that she loved me.
There was only one problem with our relationship: Samantha never introduced me to any of her friends. Even I had introduced her to some of my work colleagues — the closest people I had to friends — but when I asked if I could meet her friends, she refused.
At first, I dropped the matter because we had only been dating for a month. However, after about four months of dating, and when November came, I wondered if Samantha was embarrassed of me.
“No, baby, that’s not it,” she assured me one night. She was helping me wash the dishes. I had ordered Chinese food. “There just isn’t anyone I am close enough to introduce you to.”
I found that hard to believe because Samantha had such a bubbly personality and was a self-acclaimed extrovert. That she had no close relationships seemed improbable.
“Is it because of my age?” I asked.
When Samantha didn’t answer, I returned my focus back to the dishes.
I felt her touch my shoulder.
“Come to the bedroom,” she said.
Surprised, I allowed her to lead me to the bedroom. She closed the door behind us and stood so that her back faced me. I watched her take a deep breath, turn around, and kiss me.
I felt her tongue probe my mouth. I grabbed her ass and pulled her closer to me. She was much smaller than I was and disappeared beneath my arms. Our kiss became less loving and more hungry. It was more like a kiss between friends with benefits than one between lovers.
When she pulled her face away, I almost whimpered. I didn’t want the kiss to end. But, then I felt her hand playing with my zipper. She pulled my zipper down and fell to her knees.
Without waiting for a response from me, she fished out my cock and stroked it to full erection. I was surprised — and slightly embarrassed — at how little effort it took for her to make me fully erect. Of course, it shouldn’t have been too surprising. I hadn’t had sex since my divorce from Emily, and although I masturbated almost daily, sex gave a release that was separate from what masturbation provided.
She flattened her tongue at the base of my cock and traced it along the back of the shaft. She gave small kisses to my glans before proceeding to put half of my member down her throat.
She sucked noisily as her head bobbed up and down my cock.
I warned Samantha that I was about to cum. I expected her to jerk me off and direct my cock to the floor — Emily always did that— but instead she sucked me more vigorously. I exploded into her mouth.
She opened her mouth to show me that it was filled with my sperm. I watched her swallow my cum. When she opened her mouth again, all my sperm was gone.
I lifted her by her shoulders and kissed her. I could still taste some of my sperm on her tongue, which doubled my arousal. We fumbled to the bed, removing each other’s clothes in the process, and I laid her on her back.
I kissed her neck, her tits (I spent a lot of time on her tits — they were fucking amazing), her stomach, her thighs, and eventually, my tongue found its way to her clit.
Her body writhed under my tongue. Her toes curled. Although I had just cum, I could feel my penis respond to Samantha’s moans. I began jerking myself off as I ate her out.
She let out a long, deep groan when she came and I drank deeply from her honey pot. When her body relaxed, I angled my dick just outside the entrance to her pussy. I looked at her to make sure this was what she wanted.
“Fuck me, daddy.”
That was the only encouragement I needed. I pushed into her and was surprised at how wet she was — my member slid into her effortlessly. I intended to be gentle with her but it had been so long since I had last had sex that I lost myself in the moment.
I fucked her like hers was the last cunt in the world. And she urged me on.
“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy” She screamed over and over again.
I was learning that Samantha had a bit of a daddy complex. Which was fine with me.
“You’re a good girl,” I said, playing my part.
“No, I’m a bad girl.”
“You’re a naughty girl.”
At this point, I could t tell that she had had several small orgasms. A big one would likely come soon. I could feel myself about to finish, too.
“Nooo, I’m bad,” she moaned, her eyes rolling up. “I’m a liar. I’m a liar — Fuck! Jack!”
It seemed that I had found her G spot. I kept thrusting, not paying much attention to Samantha’s admission.
“Jack, I’m not twenty-six — I’m eighteen. You’re fucking an eighteen year old girl!”
Shocked, I stopped moving. I was about to pull out but Samantha wrapped her legs around me, pulling me back in. Her pussy walls felt so good. I was about to cum. I wanted to cum.
“You’re eighteen?” I said, dumbfounded.
“I know I lied — but you wouldn’t have gone out with me if I had told you the truth. And we wouldn’t have had so much fun.”
“Samantha…”
“Today is a safe day. You can cum inside. You want that, right?”
I was surprised to discover that that was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to fill this eighteen year old pussy with my spunk. I was so horny that it didn’t seem to matter that the pussy belonged to a liar.
Fuck it.
I kissed Samantha. She opened her mouth to accept my tongue. I bucked my hips, and, in no time, I was filling Samantha with my seed. When I had finished, I put my face between her legs and immediately began licking her clitoris to drive her to an orgasm. I tasted the fresh spunk that I had just pumped into her, but that didn’t deter me .
Samantha orgasmed, as well, and it was a larger orgasm than the ones she had previously experienced. I drank this, too, happily swallowing the concoction she had made with her orgasm and my sperm.
Samantha and I would date for nearly a year before we called it quits. Her parents abhorred our relationship. I wouldn’t let her destroy her relationship with her parents for me.
One night, I received a call from an unknown number.
I had not spoken to Emily since our divorce, and so, I was surprised to hear from her. I thought that I would be upset to hear her voice but I was actually happy that she called. I had fallen out of love with her, but I had found myself missing her companionship. And I supposed she felt the same.
“You never changed your number,” she said.
“I had no reason to. How have you been?”
We talked for hours. Apparently, she and her boyfriend had separated a few months after our divorce. She had been dating a few men (and some women!) on and off but had yet to find the right person. At first, I planned to not tell Emily about Samantha but I couldn’t help myself. I was excited to talk about her — not to spite Emily but because I wanted to share my happiness with her.
Emily listened patiently as I told her all about Samantha — about her humor, her curiosity, her intelligence. When I got to the part about how I found out that she was lying about her age, Emily burst out laughing.
“She’s a woman who knows what she wants,” Emily said.
When we had both felt like we had fully caught up with each other’s life, she asked me, “So, you feel like you’re ready to love again?”
It was a good question and I wasn’t sure how to answer it.
After much thought, I said, “I’m learning.”
Kierra
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