Gwendolyn chatted happily while I drove. I knew a place that would be great for "parking," an overlook on the river just below the interstate bridge. It wasn't accessible from the highway; you had to know how to find it, an unpaved road off of River Road.

I mostly listened, even more happily, as Gwendolyn talked. Just the sound of her voice and the nearness of her, animated and vivacious, filled me with indescribable joy. She was my girlfriend! Mine! An amazing and wonderful future lay before us as lovers and friends. She seemed to feel it too.

"So that's why," she was saying, "I decided not to date. I wasn't going to fall into the 'relationship' trap. Boys are all perfectly nice to start with, but as soon as you let them fuck you, it's like a switch gets flipped and they act like they own you. You know?"

I nodded. I had seen it, even if I hadn't experienced it myself.

"I never thought I'd meet a boy like you, though." She was smiling when I glanced at her. We were nearing the turn to the overlook.

"You had fantasies; so did I," she said. "I wanted to be worshipped. I dreamed of a man who would give his love unconditionally and never lord it over me."

We turned on to the dirt road, drove through the dense grove of tall trees, and emerged onto a gravel lot edged by a log guardrail and faintly lit by the bridge lights high above us. Although there were no other cars, I parked at the far end, facing the rail.

Gwendolyn didn't wait for my attendance this time, but opened her door as soon as we stopped and stepped out into the cooling summer night, alive with the sound of insects, the distant hum of traffic on the bridge, and the fluid sounds and smells of the river below. She surprised me again by immediately opening the back door and climbing onto the back seat. She had slid to the center of the seat by the time I got in beside her.

She wasn't wasting any time. "Kiss me, Mike," she demanded softly, and put her arms around me.

Unlike our last kiss, she let me press her lips gently with mine and part them with my tongue as my passion quickly grew. She sank softly into the back cushion as I pressed my mouth hungrily against hers. She welcomed my tongue inside, sucking it gently, her hands in my hair.

"Mmm," she moaned softly, thrilling me to my core.

I pulled her closer and moved my lips to her neck, just below her left ear. The taste of her skin was tantalizing, like nourishment to a starving man. I kissed her throat. My hands migrated to the front of her blouse. I traced the swell of her breast as my lips kissed her clavicle.

She unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse and arched her back, easing my lips lower, between her breasts. I breathed in her scent and tasted her skin, sliding my mouth with sharp tiny kisses and soft little bites towards her stiff, standing nipple.

"Ohhh, you smell so good!" I said, needing to transmit some reflection of my ecstatic joy, however inadequately.

"Do you know what that is?" she asked. Some exotic perfume? I couldn't imagine a product that subtle and powerful.

She pulled my head closer. "It's me!" she whispered in my ear as her nipple slid between my lips. I covered it with my lapping tongue even as I sucked it deep into my hungry mouth.

"I'm not wearing any fragrance at all. I didn't even use deodorant after my shower."

She shifted a little so that my nose was at the edge of her armpit. The nipple slipped out of my mouth. I kissed the side of her breast beneath her arm. So soft there. I tasted her skin. My tongue wanted more. More wet kisses, more tongue. I lapped up into the cave under her arm. Her flavor was stronger there. It was divine. I licked harder. I wanted to devour her.

"Do you like it?" she asked breathily.

"You taste like heaven!"

"Oh, Mike, I'm so happy!" She pulled me up and kissed me on the lips. "Can you pull your pants down for me?"

Could I? Nothing could have stopped me! Okay, it was pretty cramped in the back seat of my Malibu, but I managed to quickly get one leg out of both my jeans and my underpants. My cock stood tall, free at last after straining for so long in confinement.

She reached out and gave it the sweetest caress with the backs of her fingers before she took hold of the shaft, softly rubbing its head with her thumb. "Such a pretty cock," she said fervently.

She let go of it then and took my hand. Guiding it under her skirt, she said, "Here, I want you to feel me too."

She had nothing on under her skirt. Bare thighs, naked pussy, trimmed soft curls above slick, wet folds that parted easily at the touch of my gently questing fingers. We were kissing again, I suddenly realized, and her hand was back in possession of my throbbing manhood, stroking slowly, deliberately, expertly.

"Mmm, yes, fuck me with your fingers," she said, her voice husky, her breath becoming shallow and hot on my cheek, before I covered her mouth with mine once again.

I found the taste of her lips suddenly enriched by the strength of the scent emanating from below as I stirred her nether lips. I had tasted that flavor before; it was familiar to me; it was imprinted on my amygdala.

Her hand was gripping me tight, stroking my slick-coated shaft with excruciating precision, making my precum bubble forth to aid her expert ministrations.

I now had two fingers deep inside her heated sopping pussy, sawing, twisting, exploring her pulsing tunnel. With my thumb on the outside, stroking her hooded bulb, I curled my fingers, pressing their pads into the front wall of her cave, feeling its contours between fingers and thumb.

"Yes!" she panted. "Right there!" Uncoupling our lips, she pushed my head down to her breast. I grabbed her nipple between my teeth and scraped it while I sucked. I was beginning to loose control.

"Yes, Mike! Yes! Make me cum with your fingers, your fingers, so good, yes, please, don't stop..." She was babbling now and I was cumming. And so was she! I could feel her release, like mine, like a geyser, like an earthquake, like an underground nuclear test. It was both of us, simultaneously, in tandem, intense, in synchronicity.

We collapsed together, each with a hand still on the other's sex, feeling the subsiding aftershocks, the gentle tremors in our limbs, as our lips sought each other again and melted together softly, feeling our pulses gradually calm.

"Oh, Mike," said my Gwendolyn. "You are so good. That was perfect!"

I had to admit it. It was without a doubt the best experience of my life. And yet, I had hoped, even expected, to actually fuck her. I didn't say that.

We began to stir, to untangle ourselves and sit up. Gwendolyn clamped her thighs around my wrist, trapping my hand against her hot, wet pussy. I didn't mind if she wanted to keep it there. She took her hand off my limp cock then and held it up.

"So much cum, Mike, look!" She sounded impressed. Her palm was full of my pearly spend. And there was more, on my thighs and in the hair between them where my limp cock was afloat in it.

She held her cupped palm to my lips. "Drink it for me, Mike," she urged earnestly.

She tipped her palm and I pursed my lips on its edge to sip on the fresh cream of my passion. The first sip slipped past my lips, onto my tongue, awakening my tastebuds to its salt-acrid taste, while the faintly caustic fumes of it pervaded my sinuses. New sensations, mild but definitive, and strong enough to make a statement: I am hers, humble and obedient.

I sipped all I could sip. Then I licked her palm clean, and underneath, where the back of her hand harbored streaks of it. I licked her fingers, and I sucked them, like a newborn calf in need of life-giving sustenance.

"Good boy, Mike! Yes, eat it all up!" She scooped and scraped up all the cum she could from my lap and off my legs and fed it to me until it was all gone and my mouth tasted like a used condom.

Only then did she release my hand from between her thighs. She brought it to my lips. It was completely drenched in her juices.

"Now you can taste me too," she said proudly, as if I had won Olympic gold.

And it was gloriously, preciously, delicious. Even before my eager lips and tongue reached it, its powerful scent had cast out the ammonia sting from my sinuses like a fresh breeze and sunshine. I lapped up the thrilling citrus-like tang with its subtle earthy flower notes. It was a potion to satisfy the deepest yearnings of my soul. And I licked every angle, every nook and cranny until my hand was squeaky clean.

"Do you like the way my pussy tastes, Mike?" she said ever so sweetly while grinning with glee.

And, not for the first time, I was amazed and smitten to my core.

"Better than anything in the world!" I answered her. The flavor lingered on my lips and the air was redolent with its fragrance. "I want to go down on you and make you cum again with my tongue," I confessed hopefully.

"Look," she said. "You're getting hard again already!"

"That's because I want to eat your pussy," I said euphorically. "It's all I can think about now. Your taste is on my lips. I'll never get enough of it."

She kissed me. "Mmm, I do taste good, don't I?"

She started playing with my nearly erect cock. In two heartbeats it was fully erect. I was delirious again, or still; it was becoming a constant state. I knew that Gwendolyn was doing it on purpose, that she was manipulating me. And that's what I wanted! I wanted her to seize the power she had over me and make me hers.

She leaned forward and licked the tip of my cock, taking the precum that had already begun to flow again. "Such a beautiful cock," she said. "I want to keep it." She kissed it where the droplet had formed. "What if I told you it belongs to me now?" She gripped the shaft firmly. "What would you say?" Another drop emerged on top. "Would you protest? Would you play along, like it's just a game?"

She licked the tip again, taking the new drop, and then swirled her tongue all around the head, possessively, as if it were an ice cream cone.

"Or would you be my good boy and surrender it to me? Give me total control, even when we're apart?" She stared me in the eyes.

I was so high, totally blissed out! I was almost frightened by the intensity of my desire for her and the accompanying need to do and to be whatever she wanted.

"Yes!' I croaked, my voice sounding at once whisper-quiet and fiercely intense. I had never been so excited. "Yes! Take my cock and make it yours. Fill your pussy with it and make me yours forever!"

I leaned forward, angling to lay her back and lie on top of her. But she resisted, rotating her hips so that she remained upright with her back to the seatback. I found myself lying awkwardly across her lap.

She giggled and gave my exposed butt a sharp little smack. "Oh no you don't!" she rebuked me with mock indignation. "Haven't you been listening? Did I say you could fuck me?" she asked mockingly.

I was confused. I tried to straighten up, but she leaned on my back with both elbows. "But I thought..."

She interrupted me with another smack, which did nothing to lessen my ardor. "You thought I wanted your cock in my pussy. I get that." She snorted with derision. "Where did you get that idea?" She eased up, taking her weight off my back, and encouraged me to straighten up.

She turned so that we were facing each other. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"You said you wanted my cock," I said. My confusion probably made me sound pretty lame.

"Yes?" she replied with exaggerated patience. "I said I wanted you to give it to me. To give me control. How does that mean 'Fuck me?'"

"Oh," I said stupidly. A crushing weight of disappointment descended on me. "Oh." The realization dawned quickly that she hadn't even implied what I had inferred. But hope springs eternal. This was, after all, a first date.

"I'm sorry, Gwendolyn. I can wait. It's just... I just want you so much! It's all happening so fast... but it's what I've wanted for so long." I felt the weight of the years of my secret longing and the miraculous turn of events that had brought us to this point in he span of a few hours. I'm sure the longing was obvious in my face; my eyes were brimming.

"Oh, my poor sweet baby!" she said. "So eager, so needy, even after cumming twice today, too!"

She held my face to her chest. She ran her fingers gently through my hair, caressing me. I nuzzled into her open blouse and latched onto her nipple. Her soothing scent once again filled my senses, only this time augmented racily by the exciting perfume of her sopping pussy in the warm air of the car.

"Listen to me now, Mike," she said not unkindly, but with a parental tone that harmonized nicely with the gentle nursing on her breast that I found so calming. "I know that you want to fuck me. I love that you do. It's very important to me. But it can never happen. Do you understand me? You're never going to fuck me. Not ever."

~~~~~~~~

I turned into her driveway and turned off the car. We hadn't spoken a word the whole way back. I sensed that Gwendolyn was simply waiting for me to come around to her point of view. I stared straight ahead. I could see her in my peripheral vision, sitting calmly with her hands in her lap. She was supremely confident.

She was right, of course. I had behaved like a petulant child. By the time I had angrily pulled up my pants and stepped out of the car, I was already reconciled to the fact that I would go along with her. It was clear to me that I would do whatever she wanted no matter what it was or how I felt about it.

I spent the whole drive back reasoning with myself. She had been manipulating me the whole time. But I had recognized that from the beginning. I had wanted it, hadn't I? Not just gone along with it, but actively and happily submitted to all her little tests. And she hadn't hidden it, had she? She had been quite open about what she wanted. And she knew it was what I wanted too. Worship. And worship requires obedience. Obedience. The word itself excited me as much as it frightened me.

I took a deep breath and tuned to her. "Gwendolyn?"

"Yes, Mike?" she responded softly, turning to face me. There was tenderness in her face.

"I'm sorry. I'm acting like a brat."

She smiled. "Yes, you are."

"It's a lot to take. I guess I just need a little time."

"I know, Mike." She was manipulating me again. With sympathy. And, Lord help me, I loved her all the more for it. "You can trust me. I really do know what's best for you."

I sighed. "Do you?" I asked rhetorically, sotto voce.

"Tomorrow..." she began brightly, "what time's your first class?"

"Ten o'clock."

"Perfect!" She beamed at me. "Tomorrow I'm going to teach you how to worship my pussy."

Whether she knew what's best for me might be debatable, but she certainly knew how to push my buttons.

"I go for a two-mile run every morning. I want you to join me. Come at seven. Bring a change of clothes; we can shower here after. We'll have to shower together; there won't be enough hot water for two showers." I'm sure she saw the prurience in my eager smile.

"We'll shower together and we'll start your training."

"Training?" I echoed, my body tingling. Did she mean pussy-eating or something more?

"You have to learn to worship me," she replied simply. "It's what you want, right? To be my boyfriend?" Her face was gloriously radiant, like a vision of powerful benevolence. "I'm going to make you my own good, obedient boy."

She took my hand in hers. "So, I'll see you in the morning. And no masturbating tonight." She looked me in the eye solemnly. "You can't masturbate any more. Do you understand? Your cock belongs to me now."

Then she nodded her head slowly, saying, "Okay?"

My head nodded with hers. "Okay," I said.

(to be continued)