The next time I saw Wild Bill was two weeks later when I went to his house for beer, pizza and what else... sex. I had finally learned his name, Bill Jackson, and thought the Wild part was particularly apropos. Much to my surprise, another girl was already there. He introduced us. Kaitlin was a “surprise present” for me.
What a surprise she was! That girl could eat pussy like no male, or female, I had ever encountered previously. She brought out every bit of the euphoric bisexuality that lurked within. We enjoyed each other immensely. Even when Bill was battering one of us, Kaitlin and I always found a way to ensure our mutual pleasure. My time savoring her puss, while Bill was in me, was the best of a wonderful night.
We all ended up sleeping in his bed and enjoying each other the following morning. When I thought about it later, I could not decide which I had enjoyed more, that Saturday or my previous one with just Bill. They were both amazing and pleasing in different ways.
Two weeks later brought another Saturday night at Bill’s. This time Kaitlin and a guy, Terry, were there. Another “surprise present” for me. Once again, I had an incredible time. Even though we all interacted, I was the center of attention. I always had at least two of them giving me attention, attention that, over and over, drove me into the senseless world that Wild Bill had introduced me to.
The climax was the DP. Having both guys in me at the same time was overwhelming. Over and over they drove me to the edge of insensibility and brought me back. The evening’s finality was when they pushed me, screaming in the throes of orgasmic passion, over the edge into the dark world I had come to know.
After two more Saturdays with him, I spent most of the following Sunday at home, contemplating and reflecting on my adventures with Wild Bill—Wild Bill was definitely a fitting nickname. He had brought me carnal ecstasy that had previously only been speculation, conjecture, supposition, what-if. A whole new world had opened for me, but what were its implications, its consequences? It was common knowledge that heroin was wonderful until it wasn’t. I felt a huge high when I was being totally consumed by him, but the day after I just wanted more.
Also, I finally admitted what I already knew, that I was nothing to Bill but a fun slut that he could use and abuse. We had no “relationship.” Sure, we liked each other, but I knew that would fade. Was I just going down his rabbit hole, a hole that would eventually consume me? I knew that even though I was a highly sexual woman, I had to maintain boundaries—he would assure I had none. I made a hard decision; I could never see him again.
A few months after that agonizing decision, I started my blog. It stemmed from my efforts at journaling. Never having the daily discipline to keep a diary, I did occasionally write in my journal. This had always proven to be an excellent way to expel recurring, disagreeable thoughts—and sometimes for recording exceptionably pleasing thoughts. Such was the case with the revelries Bill and I shared.
It suddenly dawned on me one day, that if my writing gave me such pleasure, why not share it with the world—others might enjoy it as well. Of course, it had to be anonymous, had to protect my privacy. Also, a clever name was required to hopefully attract the attention of a few readers. I did not have high hopes in that area but did not really care. Hence, Ravishment and Other Wicked Thoughts, by The Debauched Diva, was born.
My first post was the retelling of a frat party in my college freshman year. It described my going back in the bowels of the house to a dark, and far from spick and span, room, where I happily engaged in somewhat drunken sex. During this hook-up, a second guy joined in—surprising myself, I had my first threesome. Of course, its retelling was embellished a bit; after all, I meant the blog to be quite titillating.
Its first publishing received sixty-one views and three comments—I had readers! Emboldened by my three comments, I went on to write another post, and another and another... Calling heavily on my university experiences, I mentally became the Diva and gave her life.
Several posts recounted versions of my nights with Wild Bill. I was able to expand them to more than the five occasions I spent with him. There was very little need to stretch the truth in those encounters—more in-depth descriptions, and always name changes to protect the players, were all that was necessary.
As the weeks and months wore on, my bawdy posts received ever more comments. Replying to the more interesting ones seemed to spur on more comments and views. This led to creating the Diva’s own Facebook page. She quickly garnered several hundred “friends,” and the number kept growing. A sort of cult developed, devoted to discovering who the Diva really was—their theories just added to the Diva’s popularity.
This was when my best friend asked me to go with her to a breast cancer fund-raising dinner. Being a nurse, I was more than happy to go and support the cause. That was where I met Jeff.
It never occurred to me that men would even go. I was pleasantly surprised at the number that did attend.
We had both walked to the bar at the same time. He gave a slight bow, smiled and motioned for me to go first, saying, “Please” to me and, “I’ll get the ladies’ drink,” to the bartender.
How gallant and handsome I thought, as I smiled in return, saying, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. That’s what makes it such a pleasure. My name’s Jeff by the way. It’s nice to meet you...” He paused, waiting, of course, for me to offer my name.
“Hi Jeff. My name’s Madeline, all my friends call me Maddie.”
“A pleasure. I hope I become one of them... Maddie.”
There was a bit of an awkward pause as we both searched for the next words. Then, with a smile, “Well Maddie, I hope we see each other later.” I just stood there as he turned and ambled away.
Already feeling squishy inside, I kicked myself for just letting him wander off. This level of attraction had not occurred since the once good days with my ex. Well, the night was young; a way would be found to reconnect.
We were seated at different tables during dinner but afterward found each other. This time the words just seemed to pour from both of us. It wasn’t until one of the wait-staff tapped Jeff on the shoulder that we realized everyone had gone but us. A bit chagrined, we quickly departed, leaving the room to the staff.
We had learned quite a bit about each other: he about my nursing career, I about his job as Assistant Director of IT for a regional bank, about our marital, and significant-other status, single—very important at this stage of our acquaintance. We had run through our families, my brother and sister, his brother and two sisters, plus our parents—his mother dying of breast cancer, hence his presence this night. Our ages, me at twenty-four, he at twenty-seven—I so loved older men. And many other mundane, but interesting, details of our lives. Any intimate-type discussion was avoided.
Mundane as it may have been, I was again squooshy—a sure sign of my attraction to him. I invoked the spirits to please don’t let this just end like this!
I had sent my girlfriend on her way earlier, telling her not to worry, that I would get my own way home. How was that going to work out? Good, I hoped, since he had heard me tell her that.
Looking at his watch, he said, “Wow, it’s almost midnight. I can’t believe the time went so fast. You must be tired.”
Yeah, right! Sleep was the farthest thing from my mind at that point in time. “Oh, maybe a tiny bit, but I really wouldn’t mind a nightcap. If you’re interested that is...”
“My townhouse is only a few miles from here... if I’m not being too presumptuous.”
God NO! Can’t you see the state I’m in? I wanted to shout, but instead replied, “That would be wonderful, but I don’t want to be any bother.” Sometimes our human mating dance seemed like such a waste of time. I know this may sound unfeminine and somewhat slutty, but we both knew, or at least hoped, how this was going to end, why not get there faster?
“Please Maddie, it would be my pleasure.”
Soon I found myself in his beautiful condo that overlooked Lake Michigan. The view, combined with its furnishings, blew me away. I lived in a one-bedroom apartment and he had this... wow! My thoughts were getting way over the tips of my ski’s, but I remembered Mama’s words of advice, “Sweetheart, love is paramount, so always let that be your reason to marry, but if money also comes with it, that’s not a bad thing.”
We sat next to each other on his soft leather couch, enjoying our drinks, staring out into the night, as we continued to talk. I really was waiting for him to make some move. He was a guy, that’s what they did, at least in my experience. Meanwhile, we talked—about anything and everything it seemed—and I was not bored, in fact, I was enjoying myself more than I ever remember.
Eventually, I started to yawn. I fought it cuz I was still squooshy, but the night and the drinks were closing in on me. Then he started to yawn.
“I can see you’re fighting sleep Maddie. I guess, if truth be told, I’m fighting it a bit also. I can get you home, or if you want, I have a guest room with a private bath down the hall. The bed is made; it’s ready to go. I would enjoy making breakfast when we get up in the morning.”
He had to be the most chivalrous man on earth. Part of me wanted to rip off my clothes and scream, Take me! However, I resisted, saying, “That is so thoughtful of you. I’d love to have breakfast with you. Show me the way, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
He showed me to the room and wished me, “Pleasant dreams.”
With obviously nothing more going to happen, I went in, closing the door behind me. After a very quick shower, I crawled into bed naked, falling asleep almost immediately.
I woke to the smell of coffee brewing. After a second, longer shower, I opted for the fluffy, white bathrobe I found in the closet. No man could be this prepared and organized, could he?
He must have heard me coming down the hall. “Hi Maddie! Sleep good?” Then as I appeared, “Glad to see you availed yourself of the robe; you look great!”
Walking towards the kitchen, I replied, “I slept wonderfully. The shower head has a great spray, loved the jet-like flow.” Then I did a pirouette; I have no idea why. The strong urge to open the robe, as I spun, probably had something to do with it, but I resisted. I was no longer squooshy. In fact, I was very relaxed and happy—happy in a way I hadn’t felt in quite some time.
As I came up to him, he gave me a light kiss on the cheek; I reciprocated. Pointing, he said, “Have a seat at that table in the nook. I’ll bring the coffee. Do you want anything to eat? I can cook a bit.”
“Coffee will be fine. Maybe some juice if you have any. I think I’m a bit dehydrated from the alcohol last night.”
“Sure thing. Orange okay?”
“Perfect!”
Sitting there enjoying the coffee and juice, along with the view of the sun reflecting off the lake, we did not talk near as much as the previous night. In my mind, I was just relishing the moment, extremely happy to be where I was and with whom I was.
As we were finishing our coffee, Jeff stood and gestured for me to also stand—I did, looking up at him. He took my head in his hands and kissed me on the lips, a gentle, loving kiss. I returned the same, letting my robe fall open at the same time. This kiss was the real deal, an intimate, suggestive one that let me know more was going to happen unless I stopped it—I didn’t.
He made slow, romantic love to me—it was the kind of wonderful I didn’t realize I’d been waiting for. His kisses worked their way from my lips to my nipples, then down to my dripping pussy. As they delicately performed their magic, his fingers trailed over me, causing shivers to swirl through my body. As I was about to scream from the teasing, his tongue and lips went into major get-me-off mode, and did they ever succeed!
Grabbing his head, I pulled him tighter. “Fuck Jeff! Don’t stop. Right there. Yes, fucking YES! Oh god, I’m cumming!”
Like he didn’t know. My legs were straining and quivering as the orgasm ran through me. I rode it out in bliss. Then it hit me, a gentle release of my elixir was flowing from me. No. God not now. Not on my first orgasm. Not on my first time with him.
It had never happened like this before. It was always a surprise, but the surprise had always come after a series of strong orgasms with an established lover.
“Wow Maddie.” I stopped breathing. “You taste delicious! I hope I can count on more of that in the future.” My heart fluttered as I joyfully resumed breathing.
“It’s always kinda a surprise, but for you I’ll try extra hard,” I said demurely. “Now get up here and give me more surprises.”
He did that wonderfully, giving me several more orgasms before he uttered a small groan and released his warm seed in me, setting me off one last time. I know there was never a time, before or after, that all my five senses had so completely merged into such consummate satisfaction.
That interlude started a momentous day which led into more days, then weeks and months. Six months later we became engaged. Ten more months passed, and we were married. It has been a glorious twenty-eight months.
For the first time in my life, I fully understood all-encompassing love. Jeff is truly my very best friend and a satisfying lover.
I did have some initial concerns. Even though Jeff was a good lover, easily satisfying me, it quickly became apparent that, although he was quite experienced, he did not share the kinks that I had come to think of as normal, pleasing sexual practice. Anal, bondage, light S&M, “adventuresome” outdoor sex—none were ever explored. These concerns were overridden by the complete happiness and satisfaction I felt when I was with him.
During this new love phase, we went through what I think is a normal stage of asking and telling about each other’s sexual experiences. Of course, I was honest, to a point. Wild Bill, the true number of previous partners and my other, what some might consider “off-beat,” activities, these I kept under wraps. Also, my blog was still a secret, even though I continued to write it.