A Capital Affair Ch. 01

The foreplay I was orchestrating was so good that I almost forgot about the parts that we had to put together. I reached down to touch his shmuck and got a shock. It had grown even larger than what I had seen before Damien climbed into bed. Damien jumped as if he had a shock as well. Probably it wasn't the custom for a woman in Xxxxxxx to grab a man by his m'wamba or whatever Xxxxxxxians call shmuck. Well, we were in Canada and I would show him how we do things in this country.

So I went down on him and started to kiss and lick the shaft from his balls to just below the tip. I'm gentle when I touch shlong. Partly, it's because I like my pussy to be touched gently. As a result of my belief in "doing unto others", I try to be gentle with a man. Another reason is that Torah clearly states: "Thou shalt not yank on shlong". Look it up if you don't believe me - Deuteronomy 25:11-12. I treat shlong the way a devout Jew should.

I got to the most fascinating part of his shlong for a Jewish girl. Not that I've seen a lot of shlong in my life. Besides Barry's, I caught a few naughty peeks of my brothers' shlongs when they showered but they were circumcised as well. The sex-ed diagrams always depicted circumcised shlong. The elusive forbidden fruit of the uncut version had intrigued me all my life and now I had one in my mouth. Damien was clean without any of the dreaded "dick cheese" my Gentile girlfriends complained about. What was most fascinating was the way the tip of Damien's shlong poked out of its shroud as he got harder and harder.

Even though I could have played with him all night, I needed to stop before our sex turned into just an ordinary blow job. I needed to get properly laid tonight. I reached behind me, tore the package open and extracted a condom. Barry and I never used condoms so I was quite inexperienced at this. The latex squeaked as I rolled the kaput down his long shaft.

I squatted over Damien and placed just the head at the opening of my vagina. Gently lowering myself, I applied the same pressure as I used when on top of Barry but nothing happened. Damien was too big to enter me. Perhaps I should have paid a bit more for the lubricated variety of condom but it was a little too late at this point to exchange these at the drugstore. Instead, I ran his tip up and down my slit in the hopes that enough lubricant combined with my own juices had leaked out. That worked because I pushed again and felt the huge tip of Damien's shmuck enter me. I gasped for a moment, allowing my vagina to stretch open for him and then pushed down with more weight. I felt myself stretching to accommodate him, more and more as I forced him in. It was a wonderfully new experience. I was so wet though, that within moments I had about half of him buried inside of me. The feeling was indescribable, as if I were being inflated and stretched like a balloon. Shivers coursed throughout my body.

"Oh my God Damien," I shrieked, "I can't believe how . . . good this feels . . . I've never . . . felt anything like it . . . in my life."

Once I became comfortable, I pulled his hands up to play with my bubbies while I pushed him in and out of me. I would push him in slowly and then pull almost all the way out before easing him back in to rub that delicious sweet spot inside me that always triggered an orgasm. The in and out motion gave my body the sensation of pulling a toboggan up a steep hill, reaching the top and then sliding downhill the other side. The hill grew steeper and steeper with every push in until the hill became a cliff. I fell off into the abyss of an orgasm. When the coloured lights faded, I could see Damien hadn't reached his climax but he was enjoying my pleasure. So I started pushing and pulling faster, wiggling my hips sideways as well as back and forth. I orgasmed big time again, at least three more times, screaming every time. Finally, I squeezed him as hard as my tired muscles could manage and I heard his moans and grunts of passion.

I let him soften a little to make that blown up feeling last as long as possible and then rolled off, the way Barry did when he didn't want any more of me. Was I ever exhausted and needing a rest. Damien discreetly went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and came back to bed. For at least five minutes, we looked at each other in silence lovingly (at least for me). Then we got into the usual boring post play talk - you're great, I'm tight, etc. Finally, I asked the question that was on my mind from the moment he dropped his pants.

"From what I read about Xxxxxxx, the custom in your country is to circumcise boys at puberty as a 'coming of age' ceremony. I couldn't help noticing that you have your foreskin. Did I get my information wrong?"

"No, that is still the custom in most of Xxxxxxx but not the particular tribe I belong to. We haven't practiced cicumcision since about a hundred years ago when missionaries came to our tribe. They noticed that bush circumcisions were painful and didn't always result in a working willy. The missionaries discouraged circumcision and substituted Christian ceremonies for becoming a man. They taught us both Bible and sexual hygiene. That's why I am the way I am."

"My tribe also practices circumcision but they do it when the boys are eight days old. The women in my tribe never see a foreskin, so I find yours fascinating. Can I touch it again?"

Damien nodded in consent and I put my hand on his hefty shmuck. It quickly grew hard as I touched. He wanted more of me and I must admit that, exhausted as I was, I wanted more of him. I crawled over to the side of the bed to get another rubber from the package on the night table but I never made it. Damien grabbed me by the hips and dragged me back. With one hand he pushed my shoulders down and with the other he inserted his bare shmuck in me. I tried to keep the angle so he couldn't get too far inside me. He grabbed me by my hair to change the angle and began pumping in and out madly.

This wasn't the way I wanted it to go tonight. Was I was being sexually assaulted? After all, I invited Damien to my room and we had consensual sex once already. I didn't say "No" to what was happening and I didn't scream for help. Also, I was beginning to enjoy myself. Damien wasn't too rough with me and, to tell you the truth, his doggie was working me up to orgasm again. I concluded that my problem was that I lost control. My perspective on sex changed at that moment. I began to enjoy letting Damien do it his way instead of insisting on me having it all my way. Had I driven Barry away because I was such a demanding self-centred bitch in bed?

This wave of Jewish guilt passed because my brains were rapidly migrating downward to the area of my crotch as we both worked up to orgasm. I think we came together, although I can't be completely sure. One moment, Damien was pounding into me and then an orgasm flooded my body in waves and spasms. I collapsed on the bed pulling Damien out of me. Damien had had enough as well. We didn't move, enjoying the last warmth of our pleasure dissipate. I let his semen trickle out of me over the inside of my thigh. Finally, he stirred and got up to get dressed.

I know it was whiney of me but I said: "Don't go, Damien before you promise to see me again. I need to see you again. Can we meet tomorrow?"

"I can't see you tomorrow because I have some important meetings all day. At dinner you mentioned you need to return to Toronto this weekend. That means we can't get together until next week. You have my personal cell number and I have yours. I promise that we will get together soon, Erica."

I hesitated a second and then confessed: "The only thing I told you that isn't the truth is that my name is Erica. My real name is Regina. Regina Halevy. Please call me Regina."

Then he told me his real name but, as you'll soon see why, I can't reveal it to you. Damien closed the door, leaving me alone and not entirely sure I would ever see him again. I reluctantly cleaned myself up, wishing I could keep something of him inside me forever.