“I lied.”

“Andrew,” Kimberly says, then takes a deep breath, “I lied. Not to you—well, sort of to you,” she continues, talking hurriedly, “but more to my boyfriend. To him first, I mean. But then I was stuck with it, or I thought I was, anyway.”

I interrupt; I think I know where this is going, and I want to put her at ease as much as I can. “Kimberly, slow down. Take your time. Trust me, it’s OK.”

She looks at me doubtfully, but does seem to relax a little. She gathers her thoughts and says, more slowly, “I invented the story about not being allowed to have sex. I thought I loved my boyfriend, but the sex had gotten stale. Really, he had gotten stale. He didn’t want to go down on me anymore—he’d play with my tits a little, then fuck me until he got off, and then he was done. So I came up with the story, thinking I could blow him and he would eat me out, and after a couple months it would be better; but instead, I told him and he dumped me on the spot.”

“So why did you tell me the story, too?” I ask her gently.

“I don’t know if I had any coherent reasons,” Kimberly says. “Partly pride, I guess; I sort of made a fool of myself, and I didn’t really want to admit it, but that meant sticking with the story. Partly, maybe, distrust—I guess at some level I wanted to know that you weren’t doing this just so you could fuck me yourself. Partly, for whatever reason, I felt like for coming up with the lie, I was stuck with it—that I deserved to be stuck with it for lying in the first place, if that makes any sense.”

“And why are you telling me this now?” I ask softly, though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.

“Because I want to fuck you,” Kimberly says in a rush. “You’ve already made me cum and cum and cum—I know you won’t just get your rocks off and leave me hanging—and I want to share, and to thank you. And you’ve gotten me so turned on that I really want your cock in my pussy, and I want to feel you cum—hard. I want you to fuck me until I’m a puddle on the floor, and I want you to fill my pussy with your cum.”

In response, I kiss her again, long and slow and deep; my cock, which had shrunk considerably while we talked, starts regaining its length. Without breaking off the kiss, Kimberly grabs my prick and holds it, shifting her hips so she can twat-fuck me. It doesn’t take much of that at all before I’m once again full-size and hard as rebar.

The only question is, how do I want to take her?