Ramya: I make Claire eat me out after a bad date

The date was a disaster. A rare date with an Indian, courtesy of my meddling parents. Dinner conversation was a snoozefest. In the car, awkward questions about my "purity" while trying to feel me up. I’m really starting to question the whole arranged marriage thing. Not the virginity part (I still think it’s smart), but the men. I’ve never met an Indian who turns me on, and I'm done blaming myself for that.

“What did you tell him?” Claire asks over the phone.

“I told him I’m a virgin, of course,” I say.

She bursts out laughing. “Did he buy it?”

I laugh too. “Maybe. I sucked his dick out of spite, though. He'll spend the rest of his life looking for head that good. He probably thinks I've had sex if I do that."

I spot Demarcus leaving Claire’s complex as I pull in. Claire just got railed.

Good for her. She’s blossomed under my coaching, racking up experiences I envy while I haven't popped my own seal yet.

I should feel guilty she doesn’t know I’m still technically a virgin. Tonight I don’t. I feel aggressive, aching, ready to vent.

I text as I climb the stairs: On my way up.

She warns me she’s naked. I barge in anyway through an unlocked door.

“Oh my God,” I say, freezing in her bedroom doorway.

She’s sprawled on the bed, legs slightly spread, hair a mess, sweat drying, giant pussy lips framing a hole left hanging open by Big Black Cock. Wet spot on the sheets, the air thick with his scent. She looks ruined, satisfied, and beautiful.

“I warned you.”

I step closer, eyes locked between her legs. “You’re gaping. That’s hilarious.”

“He’s a big boy.”

“You look very satisfied,” I say. “At least one of us is, dammit”

“He didn’t make you come?”

“No. That’s more intimate than sucking him off. I’d have to get naked, be ****… and they always ask for sex after.”

“I agree.”

I’m burning for her now. The bad date left me aching, and seeing her like this, spread and spent, ignites the fantasy I’ve carried for years: a woman between my legs, submissive, devoted to my pleasure.

Claire’s wide eyes, her trust, it’s the perfect moment.

"I'm horny. Claire, I’m hot for you,” I say, voice low.

“What? You are?”

We've been dancing around this for quite some time. "Sit up," I command.

Claire complies, and her used pussy suddenly queefs loudly from post-BBC adjustment.

"That's fucking sexy," I say, already peeling off my jeans. I slide down my panties before I chicken out. My thick jet-black bush frames my tiny slit, drawing Claire's eyes from two feet away, her first look at me like this.

"Claire," I begin. "I want you to eat my pussy and make me come."

"What!?" she stammers. "You can't be serious. Are you?"

I come closer. My pussy is inches from her face as she sits on the bed. "I don't want to **** you, even though I'm your mentor and ultimately you will serve me. It's best if you want to do it."

My scent is in the air. I'm wet already, and Claire breathes it in. She puts her hands on my hips and looks closely. "I'd do anything for you, you know that," she says. "If you're sure."

I know what she means. Will it risk what we have together?

"Oh hell yes, I'm sure," I say, then crawl past her on the bed, taking her place. Her own wet spot from fucking Demarcus dampens my butt cheeks. I spread my legs and wait.

She climbs over one leg, kneels between them. “I love the bush on you. Someone so experienced doesn't shave?”

I ignore the question. "Show me what you can do," I command.

She leans in, tentative at first. I'm soaking wet, the small crack an easy target. Her tongue grazes my slit through the hair.

I gasp, spread my legs wider, exposing the hair-fringed crease better for her.

She parts the bush, traces her tongue along the line my closed outer lips form, parts them, licks up the slickness to find my clit waiting.

"Yes, Claire," I moan. "You found me." I grip the headboard above me, arch my back, control the pace with my hips.

She’s good, better than I expected. Slow at first, light flicks with her tongue, gauging my sensitivity, feeling me out. She learns my body fast and dials in with more pressure, hitting my clit perfectly at the right angles. I dictate to her, slow, faster, there, yes. My voice is steady and dominant.

She obeys, devoted, making me feel powerful in a way no man ever has. The fantasy becomes reality.

I get close fast, Claire recognizes the breathing changes, sees me tremble, and backs off, exploiting the only control I've allowed her. She explores, kissing my inner thigh, blowing on my clit, teasing me and leaving me aching for release. How dare she.

"You bitch," I moan. "Make me come."

She chuckles, her tongue parts my petals again, jiggles against my clit, then traces down, nudges at the tight opening. My secret won't be a secret for long if I allow this. My pussy clenches around the tip of her tongue, sharp and unyielding. She twirls it in the slick entrance but doesn't press it. I groan, grip her hair, guide her back to my clit.

“Stay here,” I command. “Finish me.”

She's flicks it harder, stopping only to suckle the hood, escalating the attack as I get close. I pull her head, move her on me, but I don't need to. She knows just how to hit me.

I come hard, thighs trembling, holding her face against me as waves crash through. I feel a gush of warm fluid with the climax. This is a big one.

She looks up, grinning, lips slick with me. A few seconds of awkward silence, then she climbs up, hovers over me and pecks my lips, then collapses on her back next to me on the bed. I take up most of the space, long legs still spread, panting for air, my heart rate slowing. It's a powerful moment, one that might define us, so we just lay there for a few minutes. Then I reach over and clasp her hand. "You're good at that."

"I read up about it, just in case. All you had to do was ask," she says.

"I was waiting for the right time," I say.

This is a good moment for us. I'm moved. I feel so close to her now, it seems crazy to hide anything. "Claire, I have something to tell you."

I stand next to the bed and finally peel off my top and bra. My heavy breasts fall free, sagging, nipples hard. "I'll show you." I face away, spread legs, bend, arch my back, My ass and pussy on full display. "Spread me. Inspect my opening closely. What do you see?" I say.

Her thumbs gently spread my tiny lips, exposing my entrance. There it is: a thick, intact hymen, annular ring with a small central opening. It's perfect, no tears, still waiting for its first cock, waiting for me to be the perfect Indian bride.

I feel myself clench involuntarily under her gaze.

“Holy shit,” she whispers. “You’re still a virgin.”

I turn to face her. “Yes.”

She stares with her mouth open, processing. Then her soft laugh. "You deceitful bitch. How is this possible? Why?"

"I've been evasive with your questions under the guise of mentorship. Everything I have told you is true. I date a lot, I've done tons of oral and a decent amount of anal. I just don't allow vaginal penetration. I have to be able to pass a virginity test. I want to bleed on my wedding night.”

"But, I had so much sex, because you said I should. You popped my cherry yourself!"

I can't help but grin. "I did. It's all what I knew would serve you best. Do you regret anything?"

"No. No, i don't. And I’m not mad. I should be, but I’m just… honored you told me.”

“I love you,” I whisper. “Not lesbian love. Just… love. I’ll always be here for you, Claire.”

“I know,” she smiles, and relief flooding me. She leans in, kisses me softly, and I taste myself on her. Her kiss deepens. I let her tongue probe my mouth for a second, then shake her off. I put a foot on the bed to open my crotch. I guide Claire's hand to me. "Gently slide your middle finger inside," I breathe.

"Are you sure?"

I nod, and it takes Claire a second to find the bottom of my crease, then the digit slides in. I grip it tightly with muscles honed through kegels to make virgin-tight even tighter. "Is my pussy tight, Claire?"

"God yes," she says.

"I only allow one finger, nothing bigger. It's been a long time since I trusted anyone else to do it. I trust you, Claire."

She pushes her lips into mine again, our tongues intertwine, and her finger begins to rock in and out until I come again, quiet, shaking, clinging to her.