Gregory & Catherine had been dating for several months. They had first met at a party they'd both attended nearly a year earlier. When they had met, both were involved in intense, but not serious relationships. They had chatted briefly while fetching soft drinks. Gregory had been immediately taken with her... been attracted to her sparking blue eyes, her flaxen hair... and... well, she had one of those shapes that turned a man's head... and filled his imagination! When they had talked, he had also been impressed with her easy sense of humor and the hint of intelligence. After that night, he could not get her out of his mind. She could not even remember their first meeting.

The next time he saw her was at the library at the university they were attending, about a month later. He engaged her in some banter about the football team (she wasn't very interested) and then one of the cultural speakers who was coming to campus (she was very interested). Soon after, Gregory had broken off with the woman he had been dating. She was great in bed... or in the park, even once in the stacks of this very library... but that was the extent of their common interests. Actually, Gregory had grown weary of doing nothing but screwing. Just turned 21, he knew there was much more to a lasting relationship... and besides, although the sex was adventuresome, he no longer felt it was fulfilling, something was missing.

He did not know this until much later, but Catherine was experiencing much the same thing. It seemed that her boyfriend was only interested in sex...and even there he seemed to have very little interest in her needs or satisfaction. It was as if so long as he got his rocks off, she should be happy, too. The night before Gregory and Catherine met at the library had been an example. Catherine and her boyfriend had gone to a drive-in movie, a movie she really wanted to see. The cast of characters was not even over before her boyfriend was pawing her bare breasts and insisting they move to the back seat. He had wasted no time once they were there, entering her, and it was not more than a minute before he had pulled out and cum all over her torso. Then all he had done was kiss her sloppily, get dressed, asked if it was good for her, too and, while she was getting back into her clothes, drive off to someplace they could drink beer. She did not even get to see any of the movie. And she did not particularly care for beer either.

She'd just turned 19, and had lost her virginity two and a half years before to one of her school's star athletes, her then boyfriend for nearly a year. Like the night at the drive-in, it was in the back seat of a car, and had lasted only a few minutes. She had not even taken her skirt off. For several months, she had let him play with her breasts, and she had a few times jacked him off while he did so, but he had never touched her below the waist until he was climbing onto her, painfully impaling her and barely moving before cumming. The next day, he had bragged to his buddies about how he had made her the happiest, and luckiest, girl in school. That was the last time she went out with him, or, except for Sr. Prom, any of the boys from her school. The following summer she had met a guy from the local college and they had dated until she graduated. He had taken her to sporting events, romantic dinners, a theme park. They had had fun. But in time, this too had moved to become just an unsatisfying sexual relationship for Catherine. In time, he had even stopped playing with her in any way, and many times, he'd expected to be jerked off, or to get a blowjob with absolutely no attention to her needs or desires. Their relationship had ended 6 weeks after the last time they had had intercourse. He had blamed her when she thought she might be pregnant, telling her she had to learn to be more careful as he was unzipping his pants. She had simply gotten out of the car and walked the several miles home, never seeing him again.

Because her school did not allow "non-students" to attend Prom, Catherine had had to settle for one of the shier boys as her date, go stag, or not go at all. She had been the one to ask Paul, a good-looking boy, excellent student, member of the track team and school chorus. When Prom night came, all Paul could talk about as they drove to their fancy supper was getting drunk and getting laid, in that order. Catherine had arrived home very early that night when, as soon as they got in the car after the dance he had draped an arm over her shoulder and tried to cop a feel by reaching down into her spaghetti strap dress. It had been years before she told Annette, her older sister by a year, that her now brother in law had "gotten fresh with her" on prom night. The next week, Annette had told her how she had punished Paul for not telling her long before, but the adventures of Annette and Paul are another story.

Catherine had been very popular during her first year of college. She was away from home and the overly watchful eye of her father. She was a serious and very good student, but she also loved to have fun. The sororities had rushed her, and she was often invited to the frat parties, although the frat brothers were very disappointed when she did not put out like some of her sisters did. Some of her sorority sisters told her of toga parties and orgies, but Catherine did not believe they really could happen... or if they did, could not imagine participating in and enjoying them.

The sole exception was the first time she had consumed hard liquor. One of her sorority sisters had convinced her to attend a small party with some "cool guys". Catherine still did not know if it was just drink, or something more that made her lose control. But she could remember not being able to resist when three of the boys took her and her sorority sister to a motel room, where they were both stripped naked and tied to the two beds, spread eagle. Her stomach still turned as she remembered those boys laying on her, humping her... and she remembered at least one of them masturbating on her chest. She had finally passed out, and awoke naked, in that same bed the next day. Her breasts were bruised and sore from having been roughly squeezed and even bitten. And both her inner thighs and chest were still covered with cum. It was months before she dared another date or party and the next year before her next sexual experiences... that with the turkey from the drive-in theater. Catherine's waking thoughts of that night made her sick. But, in her dreams, even before this night, she was often taken and used by her Prince Charming. He adored her and cared for her, and, in her dreams, she was willing to do anything for him. She believed this was pure fantasy, that Prince Charming was just a dream.

Catherine had never had an orgasm. She heard some of her sorority sisters talk about them, and even watched one night as one of them used the faucet of the bathtub to send her body to ecstasy. Catherine's upbringing had been very strict. And in the darkness of their shared room, she had heard her roommate pleasing her self in the next bed. Her mother had told her how "nice women" did not enjoy sex, but were put on earth to bear children and please their husbands. Even at this point in her life, Catherine knew her parents would disown her if they knew she was not a virgin, as they had with Annette when she had had Paul move in with her at school. No, self-satisfying herself was out of the question. Good, decent girls did not do that!

Gregory's sexual learning was vastly different, but not much more gratifying than Catherine's. His parents had been successful. But he had started working when he was in Jr. High because of his strong independent nature. Gregory began supporting himself when he was 13. Working at a service station late at night one summer, when he was 14, he had lost his virginity when a customer had bartered for some gasoline. It was in the back room of the station, among the racks of tires and cases of oil that he had laid back on a fender cover and this woman, not ugly, but certainly not attractive, had ridden his swollen cock. The whole thing had not taken 10 minutes, and all for $4 worth of gas. There had been a series of girls throughout high school. And more than a few older women, usually customers at that same gas station, lonely housewives who would need a car started late on an afternoon, or on hubby's "golfing" morning. It was some of these older women who were brazen enough to tell Gregory what pleased them, and Gregory was an excellent student. He found that leaving the women he slept with fully sated was as, if not more gratifying to him than getting off himself. But as much as he enjoyed sex, he always felt ... knew... it was against his nature for women to be telling him what to do, to control his actions when they made love. In time, he began declining opportunities to "come in and I'll write the check."

Gregory had also been a good academic student. It was by virtue of a scholarship and an inheritance that he was able to go to college. He shared a basement apartment with 3 other guys his first three semesters, only a blanket hanging on a rope separating his "room" from the others'. During this time, he only had a half dozen real dates, four of those ending in one-night stands. One of these a memorable night with two cousins who had literally worn him out with their insatiable appetites. The next semester, he had been able to move with one of his roommates into a sparse 2-bedroom apartment. His social life picked up some, and he often took a young lady to some of the free or inexpensive events on campus or in the community. Spring semester, he had regularly dated a girl from the town who was not going to school. He learned a lot with her. She loved being spanked before he screwed her, and she liked it when they did "forbidden things", like when he had her give him a hand job under the table the one time they went to a restaurant that actually had long table cloths. But she pushed him to drop out of school and get married. Gregory thought there was more to life than kinky sex and debt, and, undoubtedly, a bunch of screaming dirty kids.

He had met the girl he had just broken up with during class registration the next year. She was bubbly, sexy as hell, and had her own car and lots of Daddy's money. For a couple of months, it had been fun doing things Gregory had never been able to do before... but it was all parties and drinking, and then hopping into bed... whether there was a bed around or not. It was driving him nuts ... and besides, lately he could not get Catherine out of his mind. He didn't know what, other than she was friendly and beautiful, but there was just something about her... And his studies were slipping. Gregory really did not want to lose the opportunities of his education. He had earned additional scholarships and wanted to go on to grad school. He dropped the chickie...

That night, in the library, Gregory asked Catherine to meet him there the next night, to study together... and if she wanted to go to the cultural speech that weekend with him. He could not believe it when she said yes to both. (That was now nearly 20 years ago, and neither had had a "date" since with anyone else, though, as other tales relate, their lives had certainly not been recluse or vanilla.)

Catherine and Gregory immediately started seeing a lot of each other. Cokes between classes, nights in the library, they even went to a dreaded football game together. Gregory relished being with her. She had a wonderful sense of humor, she talked intelligently about lots of things. He liked to hold her hand when they crossed campus together.

And Catherine liked Gregory, a lot. She dreaded the time when he would push for sex. She'd had enough of men climbing on her for their own gratification, or having to be careful not to have them cum on her clothing when she jerked them off in a dark car. She had even thought of stopping taking the pills that her understanding family doctor had prescribed for her, without telling her parents, following the pregnancy scare. But Gregory never did more than kiss her for several weeks of their dating.

It was the weekend. The first in over a year that Gregory was not working. Both of them had had grueling weeks of midterms and papers. Catherine had helped by typing and proofing some of his things. Spelling, grammar and syntax were NOT Gregory's strong suits. They were going to have a quiet supper together in his apartment. Frank, his roommate, had gone home for the weekend.

Gregory had gone all out, getting fixings for salads, chicken, even splurged for some fresh asparagus! And he had gotten 3 bottles of wine! Anything more and he would have had to turn in coke bottles for the deposit.

He had played records, some of his roommates 78's while she had cooked. They had eaten by candlelight and consumed one of the bottles of wine. They had talked about campus things, their classes, some about their families. He had cleared the dishes while she just sat, watching... then, while he changed the records, she had opened another bottle of wine and was returning with the glasses in her hand. The room was dim, and Andy Williams was crooning "Moon River". Gregory met her in the middle of the room, took the two glasses of wine and leaned to kiss her, much more passionately then he ever had before... it was a gentle kiss, but the electricity!!! He could feel his excitement at being with her, alone. She felt strong stirrings, too.

Stepping back, standing and staring her for a long time, Gregory was quiet, thinking. Catherine was uncertain what to do. She blushed, joined her hands in front of her, shifted uneasily as Gregory looked at her, from head to toe, Andy Williams continuing his soft sounds in the background. "Catherine, undress for me" he said as he stepped back and sat in the one large chair in the room. It was not a request. The words were spoken softly, barely audible over the soft music, but it was certainly a command, not a request. "Now Catherine. You are absolutely beautiful, and I want to see you... just you."

As Gregory sat back in the chair, sipping his wine, Catherine's eyes grew wide, hesitant. She was deeply attracted to him, but she was not sure she was ready for this, not ready to be undressing in front of him. She had had guys pawing her, rushing to undress her, to grab at her and slobber on her, to get naked themselves and force themselves into her. She was afraid he would end up being like the others, seeing her as just another slit to fuck, tits to suck, a hand or mouth to relieve them when they were horny.

But his tone, his manner made her obey. No one ever wanted to watch her undress before. And it was always in a dark car or someplace similar that she had been naked with men, except that awful night in the motel when she had been raped. Shyly, slowly, she stepped out of her shoes, and unzipped the skirt she was wearing. She was vaguely aware when the record changed, Dave Brubeck's orchestra now playing in the background as she slipped the skirt down her legs.

Gregory was staring at her, calmly, intently when she straightened up from tossing her skirt aside. Crossing her arms in front of her, she felt compelled to grab the bottom of her tight sweater and slowly she lifted it over her head, feeling awkward as she struggled to get the sweater off her arms. Gregory chuckled and smiled when her eyes were again free to look at him, he raised his glass to her and nodded for her to continue. Uncertain, she stood nervously in her panties and bra as he gazed appreciatively at her for a few moments.

"Everything, my dear Catherine, remove everything for me. I want to see you, Catherine... just you." Gregory was nervous under all this outward calm. He did want to see her, to explore her. He had never started with a woman this way. He was unsure himself why he was doing this now. He wanted her to be comfortable with him, to not scare her away. He was certain that her lovers had been expert at knowing how to please such a beautiful woman. He did not want to blow this.

She hesitated, looking very nervous and uncertain. Was he like all the other men who just wanted a piece of ass? Men who could not see her as a person, with needs and feelings instead of a good-looking piece of meat to be humped and then treated like dirty clothes. She did not think he was like that... but then, here she was, getting naked. "Now, Catherine, please, remove the rest now." Again, his voice was soft, barely audible, but it sounded like cannons in her ears, commanding, insistent.

Ever so slowly Catherine reached back with both hands and released the clasp of her bra. And even more slowly, under his intense eyes, she let the bra fall slowly away from her breasts, holding the it in front of her sex. Gregory caught his breath as her breasts were exposed. They were magnificent... large and firm, the nipples, swollen. The areola a somewhat darker pink than her breasts. He had not expected them to be dark given her light complexion, blonde hair, and the blue eyes. She was absolutely beautiful.

"The panties." Catherine tossed the bra atop her other clothes, and, looping her thumbs inside the band of her panties, she began to slowly slide them down her thighs and bend to push then down her calves. She felt his eyes on her breasts as the swayed out, feeling herself blush, wanting to turn away, but unable to do so. Wanting to hide, she stepped out of the panties once they reached the floor, and she could not look at him as she straightened up, one hand in front of her sex, the other arm across her breasts. She knew she as getting wet, and she could feel the nipples pressing into her forearm. She could not look at him. She was sure he would be displeased. Her legs were too long, her breasts too big. And men liked dark nipples, contrasting with the softer pink of women's breasts.

Why had she not just laughed at him and drunk her wine!!! She could feel the deep blush across her face!

Gregory did not move from the chair, but his eyes explored her from head to toe. His face was serious as he gazed at her, he was not smiling, but she could tell he was pleased. "Catherine, don't hide yourself from me. Please, my dear Catherine, take your hands and place them behind your neck... lace your fingers together so I can see all of you. My God, Catherine, you are a beautiful woman."

Her face burned as she moved her hands. She had never had anyone just want to just look at her, they had always wanted to touch, to have her immediately, she felt confused, but she did as he wished, her nipples now protruding, erect as the cool air brushed over them.

Gregory sat and sipped his wine as he watched her... drinking her in. He rose slowly, and stepped near to her... his free left hand reached to cup her chin, to raise her face so he could look into her eyes. "Catherine, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I won't hurt you, my dear Catherine. I would never hurt you... " And he leaned in to softly kiss her lips, bending his body so that only the hand on her chin and their lips were touching. Then he straightened up and sipped slowly on his wine, while looking at her, his left hand moving to push her right elbow back, her left following, lifting her full, firm breasts. Next, his left hand moved down her arm, along her side, so very lightly, braillling her, stopping only a moment at the side of her breast, then moving to cup it, lift it, his thumb rolling across her taut nipple.

She returned his kiss, then moved a step toward him, wanting to feel his body pressed to hers... wanting to help him undress, really wanting to give herself to him. She wanted to please him, she reached to place her arms around his neck to kiss him again, but he gently pushed her back, speaking softly "Later, my Catherine... there will be time for that later. I must get to know you, to learn you, to explore you..."

She moaned softly. She was amazed at how unhurried he was, she was unaccustomed to such a gentle touch. Gregory had never approached a woman sexually like this before, but he was determined not to scare this one away, and he DID want to explore her... he had never felt this way before. He wanted to make love with her, to ravish her now, here, but his desire to explore her first, to learn about her was so much stronger. He resisted his urges to take her now, here... He set the half-empty wineglass on the table beside him in the small room, placing his right hand on her left hip, moving it lightly, slowly up her side, beside the breast, then in to cup the right one as he had the left, pressing the nipple against the side of his hand with the thumb.

She loved his touch but was confused, with most men they would have been on top of her by now, their desires urgent and hurried, but he seemed so controlled so patient. Her eyes met his, hers were filled with desire and yet confusion, she wanted him like she had never before wanted anyone, but it was a want to please him.

He moved his hands so he was cupping, lifting both breasts, the nipples open, free, swollen. He leaned to kiss the right one, rolling his tongue around the areola, flicking the nipple with his tongue. Then he moved to the left nipple as his thumb caressed the now wet right one... and he took the nipple gently in his teeth... pulling on it as his tongue went back and forth over the tip. She moaned loudly, his attentions were arousing her, her nipples had never before been so hard, so throbbing,

Gregory stood and smiled at her, his eyes burning into hers as his right hand began to trail down her body, across her tummy, around her navel, to run his fingers through the curls of very fine light colored hair at the juncture of her long, shapely legs....

She gasped as he touched her sex, her body beginning to shake. She wanted to touch him to pull her to him, but she did not. She stood as he had told her to do. Catherine involuntarily shifted, spreading her legs as Gregory's hand moved further down, his middle finger spreading the folds of her sex. She was swollen, her womanhood extended beyond the lips of her sex... and she was hot and wet. He wondered, only momentarily, how many men had experienced her wonders... if he could bring her the levels of pleasure a woman of her beauty deserved, that she must have been accustomed to with her lovers.

Catherine moaned softly. She was so fulfilled with desire, for the first time in her life she wanted a man, this man... and she wanted him badly!

Gregory took two fingers and began to stretch and roll Catherine's clit in them, stretching it further... feeling her reaction, hearing her moans, seeing her clinch and close her eyes as he played with her. This was the most passionate woman he had ever been with. Some were terribly horny, anxious, but Catherine was passionate in a way he never had anticipated, or experienced. He wanted to please her... and to bring her pleasure beyond any that he had ever given... beyond any she had ever received...

As they both began to calm, Gregory took a step back, using his hand to both steady Catherine and to indicate she was to stay where she was. Quickly, he gathered his wineglass and refilled it, picking up hers, he handed both to her, then carefully swept her into his arms and started for the bedroom. Try as she might, the wine slopped out of the glasses all over both of their chests... and they both laughed. Some of the tension was relieved. Leaning to lick some of the spilled wine off the side of her breast, Gregory laughed "it will be fun to get MY spilt wine, but you will have to strain yours out of my shirt!' Gregory continued on into his small bedroom, where he laid Catherine down carefully on his bed, covered only by set of freshly laundered sheets. He took the glasses of wine and set them aside, where they were forgotten for the rest of the night. He had tried to be gallant, romantic with the wine, but the mishap had just been fun... and funny.

Looking down on her, naked on his bed, she was beautiful. He was almost afraid to touch her, thinking the apparition might disappear, that this was a dream. He slowly unbuttoned his wine soaked shirt, his eyes never leaving her as he stretched his arms behind him and dropped the shirt to the floor. He sat on the side of the bed, reached and caressed her right breast with his left and, then leaned to slowly lick the wine from her breasts and chest. She moaned as he did this, wanting to reach and touch him, afraid to do so. His words that there would be time were still ringing in her ears. His hand trailed down her body and she spread her legs involuntarily as his hand reached her sex. He was sucking at her left nipple as the finger entered her. God, Gregory thought, how could she be so wet! Did other men find her this exciting?? They must. A woman had to be conditioned to react this way, to be this passionate, to react as she did. Or was this natural???

Catherine did not really know what was happening. She had never had a man touch her like this. Every boy or man she had been with before would already be finished with her, their cum splattered someplace on her body, in her mouth, or, rarely, in her sex. But Gregory was so calm. He did not seem to be even very excited. Yes, she knew he was aroused. She could see the bulge in his pants, had felt his arousal through his trousers when they embraced in the outer room. She did not understand what he was doing, or why he was not pounding away at her. Was there something she was not doing? Did she not appeal to him? For only a moment, she thought "is he some kind of weirdo, a pervert who does strange things to women and got his pleasure with his own hand?" She had read a story once, that Annette had given her, of a man who did just that... tortured women sexually, then masturbated after he disposed of them. But then she was lost in her feelings as he played with her sex, moving from kissing and teasing her breasts to licking her swollen clit as his fingers played inside of her. No man had ever touched her there with his mouth. It was only seconds before her body was rocked by spasms centering in her sex. She shrieked and her nails scraped along Gregory's back as she writhed beneath him. She felt liquids gushing from her sex as she lost control totally. Catherine had experienced her first orgasm... and it was not one she would forget.

Gregory did not stop. Instinctively, Catherine drew her legs up, her knees near her breasts, her calves now over his shoulders. Gregory's mouth and one hand stayed busy at her sex while the other struggled to half loosen his belt and undo the button that held his slacks. He was throbbing. He had to free himself, to take her here on the bed... now. He turned his head and body as the button came free, as he needed to unzip his pants. The change in how he was pressing on her clit brought another shattering orgasm. Catherine was yelping and whining loudly as her hips raised to his mouth and fingers. She was sobbing... her breasts heaving as she took deep, gasping breaths. He raised himself off of her, afraid of what he may have done... he's never had a woman react this way. His belt and fly partly open, he moved to lie beside her, to hold her close, running his fingers through her hair, kissing her. He was worried, but he could not miss the feel of her breasts, heaving, against his bare chest. She was clinging to him, the tears flowing freely.

"Catherine, what did I do? Did I hurt you? Are you OK?" Gregory was truly worried. He'd had women orgasm before with him, many times... but never expected anything like this. Catherine's only response was to cling to him, to kiss him again and again, until she brought her hand up and looked at it. She whimpered, was obviously startled when she saw it was bloody.

She moved quickly to look at his back, the long streaks where her nails had dug into his back bleeding lightly. She moved out from under him, pushed him down on his face and looked at him. He was startled, could not imagine what was happening. Now she was crying again, but differently. "Oh Gregory, I've hurt you. The most wonderful moment in my life and I have hurt you." She had been on her knees looking at his back, then fell off to one side, on one hip, tears running. "You will hate me" she sobbed.

Gregory was totally confused as to what had happened, he was so absorbed in her, he did not even feel the deep scratches on his back. He did know that, leaning on one hip, her legs gathered beneath her, her hands in her face to control the tears, her breasts heaving as she sobbed... she was, without doubt, the single most beautiful thing he had seen in his entire life. It was several minutes before each was able to figure out what was happening with the other. Catherine completely forgot about her nudity as she went to get a wet rag to clean his back... actually, she had never been naked with a man indoors before... at least not in a place where people actually lived.

But he was intensely aware of her... he watched every movement. God, what a beautiful woman she was. Her body moved like a willow in the breeze, she was fluid. The gentle sway of her hips, her breasts, the bobbing of her hair... her uneasy smile, the deep concern in her eyes... the pink flush of her swollen nipples, the soft flaxen tufts at her womanhood... He was afraid he would awaken from this dream... that she was not really here.

When she had cleaned his back, stemming the bleeding, he held her for a long time. They did not talk, he was still not sure of her reactions when he was attending to her. But Gregory knew his manhood was throbbing, straining still to get out of his trousers and shorts... that he wanted to bury himself deep inside of her. As he held her, stroking her... her cheeks, her back, the breasts, finally finding the smooth roundness of her bottom... her hands moved to finish undoing his belt, unzipping his pants the last 2 inches. She had, of course, opened men's pants before, freed their cocks for her mouth or hands... or even slipped their pants down around their thighs so they could enter her. But she had never taken the pants from a man before, and she was awkward as she moved to slip his pants down his hips, since he was lying down. And they had both laughed when she finally gave up, moved to the end of the bed, grabbed the pants legs and simply yanked them from him, holding them up dramatically before dropping them to the floor. His briefs came off much more simply... he helped!

With mirth in her eyes, Catherine had crawled back onto the foot of the bed, over Gregory's legs. His head on two pillows, he was on his back as she drug her breasts along his legs, an arm and leg on each side of him, her head just above his legs, but so their eyes were glued on each other's. He could see her butt poised high above her head as catlike she stalked his manhood. Gregory's mind was reeling with the sight of that back and ass as he looked at her, amazed as what was happening. She stopped when her chin grazed his swollen manhood. My god, though Gregory, I have never hurt to be with a woman like this. If she just breathes on me, I will cum in her face.

But he did not. Catherine moved a hand to gently cup his testicles, exaggerating the brushing of her breasts, actually just the nipples, across his thighs. She was killing him with her exacting attentions. Catherine's sapphire blue eyes twinkled as she moved her hand to grip his shaft, gently lifting it so that it was at her lips. Gregory nearly came as her tongue captured the precum that had gathered on the head of his cock... but somehow, he did not. His hands were in her hair, running it through his fingers as she took him deep in her mouth. Catherine had certainly had men in her mouth before, but this was the first time she wanted things to last, to please the man she was with instead of just getting him off, having it over. For the first time in her life, Catherine was making love with a man!

Catherine used her hands and tongue, mouth. She was quickly learning where Gregory was most sensitive... what made him stiffen or writhe... listening when he moaned. Twice, Gregory used his hands to make her stop before he erupted in her mouth. The third and forth time, she recognized where he was at and stopped herself... well, did not stop, but changed what she was doing, backed off a little, driving him crazy... keeping him on the very edge. Finally, he could take no more and made her stop, nearly knocking her off he bed when he rolled her off of him. The both laughed and she moved up, so they could kiss each other, their bodies pressed tightly together, her breasts pressed against his chest... his cock nestled in the soft curls of her nether hair. Gregory scooted down a bit, the head of his manhood toying with the flower of her womanhood... he was driving her crazy now... and not helping his own control either!

Finally, Gregory flopped back on his back, and while holding her with one arm, reached back to the night stand, sliding open the drawer and fumbling. His eyes twinkled as he brought the hand back, a round silver packet in his fingers. Catherine knew what this was, she'd heard the boys in high school brag about how they carried condoms... rubbers they were called then. But none of the men she had been with had ever bothered with condoms. This was the late 60's, in the relatively rural Midwest. Condoms were used with prostitutes or to prevent pregnancy, not for 'sexually transmitted diseases". Only then they were called venereal diseases... "Use a rubber or you'll get the clap" she had overheard the football coach tell his players when she was in the gym once... that was sex education at her school. Well, there was no rubber when his star player had claimed her virginity! And the jerk that she had seen the following year would not even consider one. After that, she was on The Pill!

"Need this" Gregory's eyes were probing, hurting to know. Catherine was deeply embarrassed, flushing red all the way to her toes when she responded... yet she felt so comfortable with him. Her hair swept from side to side, and her breasts swayed as she shock her head no. "The Pill." she whispered. Gregory felt the pain of her response. She WAS sexually active, probably had all the men she wanted. Men who knew how to satisfy her, men were much more experienced than he was. He would have to work very hard to satisfy her, to make her want to be with him again... perhaps forever. Gregory laughed a nervous laugh as the packaged rubber went sailing across the room, Catherine thought he sounded positively wicked!

Gregory moved again so that his cockhead was pressing her clit... and he was squeezing her breasts with his hands, his fingers digging deep into the flesh, but not hurting her. Then, his fingers gathered at her nipples, rolling them... and she squealed in pain when, without warning, he pinched them.. HARD! It HURT! And she thought she would cum right then.... Catherine did not know what to think. When other men had squeezed her breasts, it just hurt... sometimes a lot. This was not bad... it was good. VERY GOOD!

Catherine expected Gregory to push her on her back. In fact, she wanted him in her, to make love with him, to drain him of his juices. Actually, he was resisting as she tried to pull him over onto her. He stayed put, and rolled to his back. Catherine was not quite sure what to do when he pulled her toward him. With one exception, that when her last boyfriend was sitting in the front passenger seat of his car, with another couple humping away in the back seat, she had straddled him. Other than that, she had always been on her back when she got laid. Now, Gregory was pulling her up, wanting her to straddle him, to sit upright with his shaft buried in her.

As Catherine straddled him, she tried to snatch his cock in her pussy. It slipped away and she had to reach down, actually reaching from behind, to position his cock so that he would enter her. He was thicker than the others she remembered, she thought... but she was so excited, her pussy so swollen in anticipation, she could not be sure. Her eyes were glued to his as she very slowly slid down his shaft until finally her pubis was pressed against his. She thought it was excruciating, to move so slowly, but she saw his reactions and wanted to please him. He thought it was excruciating, too! He loved it. He was thankful to the man who had taught her this. Except for a few of the older ones when he was in high school, the women he had been with were just in a hurry to get their pleasure, to come as many times as they could before he did. The older ones were just interested in their own pleasures too, but much more deliberate about it. Gregory felt that Catherine was trying to please him... to allow him to seek his pleasure in her. She was succeeding! Big time!

Slowly, Catherine began to rise up and down on him, causing him to slip in and out of her. Gregory put his hands on her hips and guided her. Soon, she was moving back and forth along his pubis. Her clit being pressed constantly as she did so, his shaft moving very deep in her, the friction absolutely beyond measure as it felt she was going to pull his cock clear off as she continued her slow, earth-shattering movements. Gregory said "Play with your breasts, Catherine, play with your nipples." It was the same voice he had used before, when she had stripped off her clothes for him. She knew it was wrong to pleasure herself, but her hands moved to her breasts, gathering the nipples in her fingers. Stretching his arms, Gregory put his fingers over hers, causing her to roll her nipples, the pressures increasing. She could feel herself getting wetter and hotter below as this happened, feeling Gregory's cock pulling and dragging, not really moving inside of her, her clit afire as it pressed against his pubic bone. She shrieked when he made her pinch herself hard just as he thrust his hips sharply upward. Her body was racked in orgasm, every muscle in a spasm. Involuntarily, her movements quickened, and in only moments, she was racked again when he thrust up and she felt his seed shooting into her, deeper than anyone ever had before. In fact, they were usually trying to pull out when they had cum in her before... and most of their mess had been on a car seat or her skirts or her torso. Catherine came again and again as Gregory released in her, then kept pumping into her even after he was spent. Until, finally, exhausted, she collapsed onto him...

They lay together for an eternity it seemed. Trying to catch their breaths. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest, in her swollen nipples against him. He could feel it in her pussy as it fought to keep his shriveling cock deep inside of her.

And she could feel his too, pounding... in his chest, through her sensitive breasts, see it in his temples, feel it in his shrinking manhood as it so very slowly slipped from her, leaving her feeling empty, wanting him to come home again.

Finally, Catherine stretched her long legs out along his, straddling him. Then, kissing him passionately rolled off of him to his side. It was only moments before they were both in a deep, contented slumber, wrapped up in one another, arms and legs tangled together.

Catherine was the first to stir in the early morning. She had been lying next to Gregory, their bodies entangled. She had been dreaming... of her Prince Charming. He had ridden in on a white charger, swept her off the ground and carried her to a castle deep in the woods where he introduced her to an exciting and erotic life. Catherine was unsure if the warm body she felt next to her was real, or a dream. She blinked her eyes open; the room was filled with the dim light of the breaking dawn. As she realized it was indeed Gregory sleeping soundly next to her, she dared not move, fearing she would wake him.

Catherine had never awakened with a man before. She really was not sure what she was to do. Her body was sore. It was a wonderful soreness. Her shoulders were tense, aching from sleeping in an unusual position and being tangled up with him the portion of the night they slept. They had made love twice more during the night! Her breasts were tingling, her nipples sensitive and sore. They were erect, already throbbing. Her legs were tight and aching, like she had cycled for miles. And that secret area between her legs... she could feel that she had been used. There was an aching that she had experienced only a couple times before... well, this was different... the ache was good. Catherine dared not move for a long time, but she knew, lying very still, that she had grown wet a she lay next to him, her hand on his bare arm, her breasts pressed against his back, her sex against his left buttock, one leg draped over his.

Finally, she had to move, to get up. She blushed, even though he was sound asleep. She needed to use the bathroom. Catherine slipped quietly from the bed, being very careful to not make noise or stir the bed. She paused to gaze down at him, smiling. He was in the fetal position now, breathing the deep breaths of sound sleep. His body was not particularly muscular, but he was trim. Somewhat taller than she, his arms and face, neck were deeply tanned. The rest of him was mostly pale white... his work shirts, she thought. His only time outdoors is to work. She felt a twinge in her breasts, stirring in her sex as her gaze continued down to where his penis and scrotum were lying on his left thigh, nested in a tuft of dark curly hair. She did not know how he compared to other men in this state. The only comparisons she had... well, they made no difference now. She wanted to forget those experiences. They did not matter anymore.

Catherine made her way to the bathroom and began to close the door, but stopped when it was squeaking. She was deeply embarrassed as she completed her business with the door open, deathly afraid he would walk in on her... he didn't. He was still sleeping, although he had rolled to his other side, his backside to her when she returned to the bedroom. Suddenly, Catherine was intensely aware of her nudity... feeling herself blushing, embarrassed by her arousal, uncertain of her feeling about what she had done the night before. Well, uncertain was not right. She was warmed about last night. She just could not believe that she had obeyed when he'd told her to strip for him. All that followed seemed perfectly natural, wonderful.

But now, she was embarrassed. She was a very private person. While others in her sorority paraded naked in the showers or the dorm rooms, she tried to stay covered. Catherine just did not like people seeing her body, there were too many flaws, she thought... her too big tits, too skinny butt, light nipples, she did not particularly like her legs. As she thought, she could feel herself growing redder. But she liked looking at Gregory. Nice ass she thought... then caught herself. That was a term she did not use! But she smiled to herself as she unconsciously covered her breasts with her arms. YEP... nice ass!

Catherine saw a T-shirt hanging on the back of the bedroom door and grabbed it, slipping it over her head, down her arms, stretching it down over her beasts. It smelled of him... not a fresh clean shirt... she loved it! It fit snugly over her full breasts, and was not quite long enough to cover all of her asscheeks, but she felt more secure now, at least covered. She did not want to get back into the clothes she had been wearing the night before. Trying to be very quiet, standing there, she looked around his sparsely furnished room, seeing what she could learn about him.

She heard the bedsprings soft creak, turned to him. He was back facing her, his head propped on his hand, watching her. He was smiling, a quiet smile. "Good morning my little one" he said softly. She felt her heart skip as he called her his, wanted to rush to him, to hug him, to ... well... she blushed when she thought of what she wanted to do to him. She hesitated though. He did not move, just looked at her for a short while. Catherine felt his eyes on her. She could feel him caressing her from head to toe as surely as she had felt his hands the night before. Her eyes dropped to the floor and she clasped her hands in front of her sex, red at the knowledge that if she raised her arms the tiniest bit, her curls would become visible, he would see her arousal... think she was some sort of wanton woman... or a pure slut!

Then, the tone of his voice changing only slightly, but she heard it... without question, she heard the change. "Catherine did I ask you to dress, to cover yourself, hide from me? Did I tell you you could use my best clothing for yourself?" There was a touch of laughter in his voice, a twinkle in his eye, but there was also the seriousness of a command she had responded to the night before. Catherine knew, somehow, that Gregory was toying with her, having fun, but that he was also deadly serious... he wanted her to do only what he asked, only what he allowed of her. And she was confused at her reaction. Less than a month ago, following the drive-in incident, she had hated all men, knowing they were all just a "fuck-em and forget-em" gender. She had vowed that if she ever got close to a man again, she would use them as they had used her, for her purposes... financial, sexual, social... men were to be used as they used women. She was planning to talk to Annette, learn how she did it.

Now, standing in his bedroom, with him lying casually, naked on the bed, staring at her, Catherine wanted nothing more than to do things to please him, to have him be pleased with her. She had done something drastically wrong donning the T-shirt. She was ashamed, afraid, embarrassed as she saw him staring at her, waiting calmly to see what she would do. She was aroused! She wanted to be with him, to have him caress her, to kiss her, anyplace he wanted... to have him take her again. She knew at this moment, against all her upbringing, he could ask her to do anything... and she would. Ever so slowly, Catherine's hands dropped to the bottom of the T-shirt. She raised it over her sex, her tummy, up to free her breasts to the chill of the early morning and finally over her head, struggling again to get it off of her arms. She was humiliated at her large breasts, knowing, feeling his stares on them as they swayed and bounced as she fought with the T-shirt. God, why was she here like this? Why?

Gregory had felt the bed move when she had slipped out of it. He had thought he was dreaming when he felt her against him as the dawn light shone thought the old sheet that served as a curtain in his room. He could not believe she was still here, or that she had ever come to his bed. What did she think of him? In the light, she would see how sparsely his room was furnished, how little he had. Much more important, he knew now she would be comparing him with the others. With his eyes closed tight, he could see her, lying still, he could feel her. Every moment of their time together the night before was vivid, like it was happening now. Had he brought her pleasure? Or was he a bumbling fool? Others could wine and dine her. She could attract whomever she desired. All he could offer were free concerts, low budget home cooked meals and times like last night.

Well, obviously she'd had other nights like last night. The Pill! Girls her age did not take The Pill to cure acne! And the way she had responded to his hands, his positioning her... the way she had taken him in her mouth, brought him to heights he had never experienced, only to stop, let his calm, then take him even further... Gregory had never expected her to be like this... never in a million years! He was deathly afraid she would dress, go away and laugh over his inept efforts to make love to her. That she would soon forget all about last night... casting it aside as an insignificant diversion, a boy in a man's body who had amused her for a night.

Gregory had heard the bathroom door start to close, then stop. He thought about getting up, then reconsidered. There were some things private, and she might reject him completely if he walked in on her peeing. He expected her to redress and then things would go back to normal, studying together and such... unless she had had her fling, her amusement, and was ready to move on.

Gregory rolled over, his back to the door as her recalled last night. She was so unlike any woman he had ever been with. Yes, she was beautiful, but that was not it. She was intelligent and had a great sense of humor. These were very important, but that was not it either. There was something else, something he had never experienced before, that made him want her to not leave... to come back to him, to stay the weekend, to stay forever... God, forever... what the hell was he thinking! Why would she even stay the morning, unless she was bored... what did he have to offer her. What was it about her?

He had not planned to tell her to undress last night. Yes, he hoped to bed her, as he had others... to sit in the big chair, her on his lap... to kiss her, get her tipsy on wine, and hope that things would progress from there. No, not like the others! He knew Catherine was different, that she was important to him in ways no other woman had ever been. But as she had walked toward him with the wineglasses in hand, the light from the kitchen silhouetting her, he had acted instinctively. He wanted her to do this for him, to reveal herself to him, willingly, without his assistance. She had been embarrassed. She had hesitated briefly. It appeared that this was not something she had done before, being awkward as she had removed some articles under his gaze. But she had done it... everything he had asked of her she had done. Why? Why had she done things that so obviously made her uncomfortable? She was so expert in her attentions to him, vast experience he imagined. Why had she not directed him, as the older women of his youth had done? He could not have dealt with that. Gregory wanted to learn, to grow in his knowledge of women and sensual pleasures. But he could just not submit to the demands of women again, he could not be the one who followed. As he heard her return to the room, expecting to see her in her skirt and sweater, one question was burning in his mind... Why?

Gregory rolled over quietly. He was taken aback, totally. She was not in the sweater and skirt. He raised up to put his head on his hand, elbow on the pillow as he watched the T-shirt slip over her head, down her arms, over those magnificent breasts, down her body to hide the soft curls and slit of her womanhood. His heart skipped and he saw the surprise, the embarrassment of being discovered when her head popped out of the T-shirt and she saw him staring at her. Geez, and it was not even a clean shirt. Why had he not put that one in the laundry! He'd been wearing it when he cleaned the apartment yesterday. It was sweaty. She'd think he was a slob... a bum! He was such a yadtz! This beautiful, wonderful, unique woman had shared his bed, brought him the first fulfilling sexual experience of his life, and he'd managed to get her into his sweaty T-shirt! Maybe some day she would find humor in this as she donned some wealthy, sexy man's freshly starched white dress shirt some morning, wandering around his huge bedroom, having been in a bathroom with a door that did not squeak! He was a first class screw-up. Gregory was sure he had no business being with a woman like this. His was a world of airheads and chippies. Horny girls who just wanted a good roll in the hay, maybe lonely housewives needing a diversion.

He did not want to just say, "Take that sweaty shirt off!" It just seemed so natural when he spoke as he did: "Catherine did I ask you to dress, to cover yourself, hide from me? Did I tell you you could use my best clothing for yourself?" He was surprised at the control in his own voice as he said this... and amazed when, after a moment of intense blushing, Catherine had slowly, deliberately, seductively raised the T-shirt back up, revealing herself to him. Gregory felt the power surge though his body, his immense gratification as she did this for him. He felt himself growing, his balls aching for her. Gregory was feeling things he had never felt before. He wanted to please her... but he wanted to have her please him... to find her pleasure through him and his command over her. Something awakened in Gregory at that moment, surfaced from someplace deep in him. It would be years before he understood this moment... but this was the awakening of a Dominant. As Catherine slipped that T-shirt back up, over her head, Gregory's life, the basis of how he would relate to Catherine through all their life together was born... he was changed by her, with her, through her... forever!