"Hi, Joe! Can I talk to you for a sec?" Two weeks into Fall term, a petite blonde classmate approaches me in the corridor after our Stats class.

I know this girl only because I recently helped fix her wobbly dorm desk, which was on the verge of collapse. I'd done this as a favor on behalf of her next-door neighbor Joan Bauer, with whom I had a fun fling back in May. Knowing that Maintenance wouldn’t get around to it for weeks, I grabbed a wrench and took care of it for her.

"Sure. How's your desk?"

"It's awesome!" she beams, a slight goofiness to her smile. "Very solid now." She seems a little nervous, bouncing lightly on her heels. "Hey, so Joan and I were talking about you, and ... well, you seem like someone I'd like to get to know better. Would you have dinner with me on Friday?"

"Sure, sounds great." More sheepishly, I inquire, "Sorry, can you tell me your name again?"

"Daphne," she says sweetly, without the slightest reproach for my forgetfulness. "Daphne Rhodes." She extends her hand, quite unnecessarily, given that we've met before. For a split-second while we shake, something in her eyes catches me. A flash of something warm, but something else, strong and mysterious. My heart skips a couple of beats. So does my brain.

What was that?

"Nice to see you again, Daphne," I reply after my heart defibs and my brain reboots. She giggles warmly, not at all mocking me for having a three-second space out while shaking her hand. Or for forgetting to let go of it. God, I'm being such a dork, I shame myself, recovering just enough to suggest meeting up at seven on Friday.

"How about five-thirty?"

"Sounds great." Oops, I said that twice. "See you then."

I notice her glancing backward as she walks away, an apparent spring in her step.

I have a spring in my step, too. In what might be an inversion of what a lot of average guys go through, I've had some fantastic sexual experiences the past couple of years - with both men and women - but satisfying relationships have been elusive. Why is it so hard to find someone who just likes me and wants to spend time with me? Is there something wrong with me? I wonder. I dated Francine for a few weeks last year, but she ultimately dumped me because I'm bisexual and she decided she'd never trust me. I mean, I like both blondes and brunettes too; did that mean I was destined to cheat on her brunette ass with a blonde?

You're not damaged goods, Joe, I try to remind myself. Be true to yourself. Not every woman is going to see you how Francine did. Move on and give Daphne a shot.

= = = = = = = =

The early start to the date gives us time to talk about a million things. We cover everything from common interests to our similar family backgrounds, to way more than I ever could have imagined wanting to know about her Biology major. But from her, it still sounds interesting. The warm and lively conversation is broken by the occasional nervous smile or awkward pause. But each time that happens, we chuckle together knowingly, bonding over the inherent awkwardness of a first date. If our banter is imperfect, it is perfectly so, continuing long after we've finished dinner and dessert. Daphne seems just so real: self-effacing, a little offbeat, sometimes unintentionally funny. And, something I'm not used to on a date, perhaps a bit more nervous than me.

We go to a club concert after dinner. It's too noisy for conversation, but we talk with our eyes and enjoy lots of chaste hip-bumping contact as we jostle with the crowd. Any worries that we might be heading for the Friend Zone are dispelled when the evening ends with her lips briefly planted on my cheek, leaving what feels like a scorch mark. We make plans to meet up again the next night. I have a lot to think about that night.

= = = = = = = =

Now that we're more comfortable with each other, Saturday night goes even better. Her nervousness gone, Daphne exudes kindness, a little oddness, and an inner confidence that she knows exactly who she is, maybe a little like Luna Lovegood. But in contrast to Luna's calm serenity, Daphne radiates a steady, stammering, enthusiastic energy that seems to make the world around her vibrate.

She even seems to like me, which is the most attractive thing of all about her. Don't blow this, Joe. Even if it's a mystery why the fuck she likes you.

We follow dinner with a movie. After the title sequence, her warm, soft hand nestles comfortably in mine, our mouths meet. Her lips are supple and warm, with a faint taste of - is that mango? - from her gloss, her tongue warm and insistent.

After a few minutes, we break the kiss to catch a bit of the actual movie. Daphne withdraws her hand and fumbles with what I presume is her handbag.

Then she grasps my wrist and guides my hand into her now-unbuttoned blouse.

With no bra in the way, I gently cup, squeeze, and twist her pointy, cloud-soft, almost-handfuls, causing her to clamp her mouth onto my neck. Her hand lightly rubs the bulge in my pants as we kiss. "Joe, can we ..." She pauses, showing that cute hesitancy again. "Listen, Joe, I really like you ..." she whispers in my ear.

"I really like you too, Daphne," I murmur reassuringly. "I've been having the most amazing time with you."

"What I mean is ... well, I really, really, really like you, Joe, and ... okay, sorry, I already said that. It's just ...” Now she leans closer, expectantly, her mouth an inch from my ear, hotly breathing, “Would you sleep with me tonight?"

"I would be thrilled, Daphne," I whisper back. "Sleep, or whatever you want to do."

"I might want to do more than you expect," she wheezes into my ear, grabbing my hand and slipping it under her skirt.

Whoa, there's nothing under here either! Except for downy curls and slick folds. This girl has gone completely Commando tonight. For me!

"I heard you're a good lover, Joe," Daphne hums as I part her velvety curtains. She exhales a quiet gasp as I wriggle a digit into her. “I'm eager for a demo."

Puzzled, I pull my head back a little to gaze into what I can see of her eyes in the darkness. "What? What have you heard?"

She explains, whispering as quietly as she can in the mostly-empty theater as I flex my finger inside her vagina. "Your references ... ohhh, Gawwwd, Joe ... your references ... ahh, your references say you are willing to get naughty, but ... ohhh ... always giving and kind. Plus, you're cute," she giggles. "You check all my boxes." She pulls my hand out, luridly licking the finger that was in her and offering it to me, breathily whispering, "Including that box."

References?!

= = = = = = = =

We leave the movie with twenty minutes left, the ending obvious anyway. Back at the dorm, still standing, she pulls off my shirt, gnawing on my neck and then my nipples while fumbling with my jeans.

"Can we put that demo on hold for a few minutes?" she requests, getting me naked except for socks. "I think I want to pleasure you first." She summarily swallows nearly my entire cock whole, concealing her teeth inside well-wetted lips that squeeze it as firmly as anyone has. She strokes her mouth up and down its length, eyes locked on mine.

"Oh my God, Daphne, that feels incredible. You are so incredible. I'm so glad you came after me like you did." By which I meant pursued.

“Tonight I'm going to come after you in another way," she quips, resuming her slurping. Hey, any woman who can crack a dirty joke, even a bad one, while giving a next-level blowjob is a keeper.

Daphne's hands get into the act too, one of them squeezing and stroking the base half of my cock, the other cupping my balls with the perfect amount of squeeze. As I (too quickly) approach climax, she pulls off for a second, demanding, "Give me your cum, Joe! Fucking feed me!" She withdraws her hand from my testes and uses it to slap my ass. I can't help rocking my hips lightly as I climax, and she spanks me in time as I pump her mouth full of semen.

She keeps sucking and licking for some time after my orgasm, more gently now, not stopping until I finally go soft. I pull her up to a standing position, telling her, "That was unbelievable," and kissing her, enjoying my taste mixed with what little is left of her mango lip gloss.

"I figured your blowjob standards must be pretty high, Joe,” she says playfully. “I hear you give a decent one yourself.”

I unbutton her blouse and finally free her pillowy mounds. "Okay, so who were these 'references' you're talking about? Do I have a star rating or something?"

She ignores the second question. "Well, Joan, obviously. She has this real peeve about guys who put their own pleasure first, but she says you made her cum before even thinking about yourself. And some guys put her down for her weight, but you made her feel really beautiful. And then, there was your old girlfriend Francine ..."

"Ugghh, nooo!” I'm sure I look pained. “You talked to Francine?! She would have given me two stars, tops.”

"You'll be surprised to know that Francine basically echoed Joan's report. Despite how things ended for you, of course," she soothes, caressing my cheek. "I have some idea how that must have hurt."

"Well, we weren't in love or anything. What hurt wasn't so much that I lost her, but why."

She places her hands on both of my cheeks, looking directly up at me. "Now you listen to me, Joe Barnes," she says with steely intent. "To Francine, your sexuality is a bug." A knowing grin grows across her face as she bounces lightly on her heels. "To me, it's a feature."

I'm stunned. "Are you for real, Daphne?" I ask as I bend my head to start suckling on those lovely little boobs. Gazing back up at her from nipple height, I say, "It's like I dreamed you up." Imaginary or not, there is not one fake or pretentious thing about this woman. Certainly not her perky little tits.

"There were more, uh ..." she gasps, throwing her head back. "There were more references. I also tracked down your friends Keith and Kate. And they said the same things about you."

At least those two would have put a much more positive spin on my bisexuality. At a ski-cabin stay over New Year's, Keith and I had traded blowjobs in the sauna, after which I had gently and lovingly introduced him to anal sex right in front of wide-eyed Kate. She had then joined in for a wild fucklicking threesome, which unfortunately has not been repeated, although I have been with Keith a few more times.

I don't let Daphne's revelation slow me down, nor does she seem to want to delay my journey downward and then inward. My finger's muscle memory leads it right back to where it left off in the theater, exploring her inside passage while my palm massages her outer nubbin.

Squirming, she pushes me back onto the bed and kneels across my face, begging me to eat her the same way I did Joan. I'm thrilled to comply, first licking her ambrosial cunt lips and marveling at the delightful womanhood of this delightful woman. I keep my lips and tongue busy serving the full menu of circling, enveloping, thrusting, bathing and flicking. Then she says, "Spank me, Daddy. I've been a bad girl."

After some hesitation, I do, though it barely qualifies as a swat. I mean, this is not something I've done before, and I do not take lightly the idea of striking a woman.

"You'll spank me harder when I tell you what I did," she challenges, the taunt streaked with anxiety. The lady wants a spanking, I convince myself. Give her a fucking spanking.

"Mmmmff, mmmmf," I mumble into her puss in response, then tilt my head back to speak, mock-sternly. "Okay, Daphne, what did you do?" Resuming my munching, I maneuver my tongue to the inside of her ass cheeks while my hand finds their outside, nailing them with a preemptive smack.

"I'm such a dirty slut, Joe!" Smack! "I didn’t just talk to Keith and Kate ... I slept with them." Smack, smack, smack!

"Mmmff mff mmfff mf mmmfff?!" I ask her twat, having attached my mouth to it again. You did it with Kate and Keith?!

If her ears don't understand the question, her twat seems to. "Yes, both of them." I administer another smack, smack! "I rode both of their faces with my ... cunt! One after the other, just ... like ... I'm ... doing .. now." Smack-smack-smackity-smack-smack-smack. I add one more, louder smack! For the use of the word "cunt," of course.

"Joe," she pleads, "it must sound like I've been stalking you by seducing your friends, but I swear I'm not some sick weirdo. I've just been burned before, and I wanted to make sure you were the real deal before asking you out!" I recognize that she is seeking some absolution for what she has done. Or at least catharsis. I answer her question by delivering both. Smack, smack! Lick, lick!

I do consider for a second whether I could be entangling myself with a dangerous psycho headcase. I mean, having sex with Kate and Keith wasn't really necessary in order to learn how I treated them. It was just kind of a bonus for her, I suppose, which frankly is more than a little hot. Anyway, despite Daphne's superficial eccentricity, I sense something profoundly stable and grounded in her. Somehow, despite her dirty, dogged approach in pursuing me, I feel like I could trust her with my life.

Or maybe with my heart.

"I really don't think you are a nutjob, Daphne." Nevertheless, what she wants right now is more Smack, smack, smack! And I give it. "I do think you are a sexual deviant, though. Like me." Slap! Slap!

"That's it, Daddy! Fucking paddle me, you dirty, fellow fucking pervert! Ohhh, gaaawwwd ... I'm cummming nowww!" I keep both hands alternately slapping her cheeks, and she tenses up, shuddering multiple times and rocking and sliding her pussy back and forth across my mouth, bodily fluids saturating my face and dripping down my neck.

= = = = = = = =

As she calms down, Daphne sighs, "Ohhh, that felt really good to let out." She grabs a towel from next to the bed, tenderly patting my face dry. She leans on me, gently planting kisses on my face and neck. "See, Joe, unlike that fool Francine, I appreciate your dirty desires. I think they make you sexier. I just hope you'll appreciate a few of mine, too." She pauses, thoughtfully. "So far, the guys I've known either thought I was a sicko and belittled me, or the kinkier ones just ended up being ... not very nice to me." There is a catch to her voice in those last five words.

Click.

As if connected by elastic bands, the pieces of the puzzle that are Daphne - and her interest in me - snap into place. She is kindhearted to the core, but also sexually adventurous. And the bastards have stomped on her for it.

That fucking ends now.

I feel compassion, a sense of finding a kindred spirit, and a protective duty not to hurt Daphne again. Gazing into her eyes, looming over my face like glowing blue-gray stars, I suddenly understand what I've been seeing in them. The grayish tint that other guys have viewed as dullness shines at me like fucking steel. She has forged something hard out of her pain, a steely determination to hang on her kindness. And to seek someone who will return it.

Me.

"Oh, you beautiful, tough little flower, Daphne." I finally say, cradling her face as I collect my shifting thoughts. "You are the most exciting, and sweet, and real woman I have ever met. I will use your 'dirty desires' to lift us both up, never, ever, ever to put you down. Let's get naughty together."

"Oh my God, Joe, you get it!" she almost shouts. "You get me! You are just who I was hope-hope-hoping you would be. I want someone who will get a little bit deviant with me, but still be nice to me in the thick of things. And after. I was starting to wonder if that was too much to ask."

"'Am I asking too much?' is exactly what I've struggling with too." I turn inquisitive. "Of course, I'm agreeing to all this without knowing anything about your 'deviance,' other than it includes a few guilt-cleansing slaps on the ass. What turns your crank, Daphne?"

"First, Joe, the most important thing is that I don't want to do anything you don't want to do, and I don't want us to hurt or demean each other in any way. Tonight is as far as I'd want to take spanking or that 'bad girl, Daddy' stuff."

"Oh my God, you really must be a dream-goddess. You'd better pinch me."

"No! No pinching! I told you I don't want to hurt you. But, if you're game, I might want you to handcuff me to the bed and tease me, before fucking me raw. I might want to try some roleplaying and cosplay. I might want to blindfold you and see if you can tell who is sucking your cock, besides me. I do want to give your biggest 'feature' a workout and watch you suck another man's cock. I might want to have you watch while Joan rides my face. I might want to be double-penetrated. I might want to shave you. I might want to pee on you. I might want to dress up as a man and go on a gay date with you. I might want you to take me to a Swingers' club and eat other men's cum out of me. I might want you to diddle me on the bus. I might want to strip you, write 'Daphne's Bitch' on your chest with bold marker, and have you streak across the Quad. I might want you to pound me from behind, with my boobs squished against that window over there."

"That's a long list," I can't help observing.

"Well, it's a start, anyway," she deadpans, now stroking my now rock-solid cock. That "list" of hers has gotten us both excited. "But still, nothing you don't want to do."

"Hell, Daphne, if it's you doing the asking, I would do any of those things. I mean it, every damn one."

She bursts out with, "Oh my God, Joe, I love..." She pulls her hand off my prick, clamping it over her mouth halfway through the dreaded L-word, her eyes wide, as if she's just said something horrible.

Rolling away, she cries, "I'm so sorry! I just got a little excited. Please, please, please, don't let me scare you away, Joe. I know I can be a lot sometimes, but I can tone myself down, I swear." In a smaller, pouty voice, she says, “I really like the connection we've made so far."

I hold her from behind. "I am not going to let a little L-word scare me off, Daphne, and please don't tone yourself down for me, ever. I like the connection we've made, too. I hope it's the beginning of a wonderful relationship."

"Wait, what?" she quizzes, rolling back, a playful look on her face. "Did you just say 'relationship?'" She blinks those gray-blues several times and tilts her head overdramatically. "You are a man, right?" Then she runs her hand up and down my body, finally returning to my member. "Yes, you are most definitely a man." Not being the manliest guy in the world, I very much enjoy this positive reinforcement. My dick enjoys a bit of reinforcement, too.

"Yes, Daphne, I want a relationship with you. I already told you that you're everything I ever dreamed of."

She plasters her mouth against mine, our lips sealing each other's and our tongues tangling. She climbs on top, still kissing. "Oh my God, Joe, please fuck me now. Fuck me raw, fuck me tender, fuck me hard, fuck me slow, I don't care how ..." She envelops my manhood in her snug womanhood, insistently. "Just for the love of God, fuck! Me! Now!" I squeeze her tits while she starts riding me cowgirl.

"Oh, Joe, I forgot!" she exclaims after a minute, looking mischievous. "I almost used the L-word on the second date! You'd better spank me for that."

Smack, smack. "Yeah, Dirty Daphne," I taunt, "you were supposed to wait until the third date!" Light slap.

I sit up, Daphne still riding me, so I can devour her succulent cones. “Oh, Mommy,” I moan, something I’ve never said to a lover before, because I always thought it would sound weird. With Daphne, it doesn't.

“Oh, feast on my titties, Daddy. Mommy’s here for you." She holds one of her boobs in her hand and squeezes it into my mouth as if suckling me, in a way that feels more comforting - more validating - than I've ever experienced. She slows down her rocking, eventually to a full stop, and then squeezes my member from inside. I flex using my own similar muscles, and we trade the most amazing sensations Kegelling each other, back and forth, while she continues to feed me her nipple. I have been with a few women by now, and a few men too, but I have never felt such sexual tenderness as this before.

Daphne carefully pivots, my penis never leaving her vagina, to face away from me. I sit even more upright, coccooning her within my manly embrace. I nibble on her neck and use one hand to squeeze her breasts, harder than before, using the other hand to massage her hardened clit. This really gets her gyrating in my arms, and she soon builds up to another climax, whimpering with delight as she spasms.

= = = = = = = =

As I collapse backward, Daphne flips over to sprawl across me, her head on my chest. Her ongoing gasps and moans of orgasmic recovery give way to sobs. I hold her tighter as teardrops trickle across my shoulders.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Ohhh! Joooe! It’s going to be so sad!"

"What's going to be so sad?"

In a tiny, weepy voice, she says, "When we graduate."

Oh, sweet Jesus. Still simply trying to process how the ground has shifted beneath me tonight, rearranging my thoughts about whom I love and how I love, I haven't really thought that far ahead. She's right. Unusually for most students this early in Senior year, we both already have after-college plans that will wrench us apart. I've just accepted a full-time position halfway across the country, with the company I interned with remotely over the summer, and she already has a research fellowship lined up on the other side of the country. Eight months from now, that shifted ground is going to have to shift right back where it was, tearing us asunder in the process.

As this lovely girl lifts her head to look at me, I wrap one arm tightly around her waist and run my other fingers through her stringy hair. Neither of us speaks for a long moment of shared heartbeats, searching each other's faces for some loophole to escape our inevitable doom.

None exists.

I finally speak. "You're right. But we shouldn't let that stop us from loving each other now. I will be goddamned if I will let us suffer in advance." My voice cracks a bit as I say this. "For the next eight months, we are going to heal each other's wounds and love each other like we have never been loved before. Like we both deserve. And I don't want to back off of that until Graduation Day itself. We are just going to have to hit that wall at speed, and hope that we will have made each other so much stronger, so much more confident in our ability to be loved, that we will both survive that crash." I pause before concluding my speech. "Barely."

"You really mean that, Joey?" She cracks a tear-filled smile, dragging a finger across my cheek.

"I meant every fucking word of it. Including the 'L' ones in there."

"Yeah, don't think I didn't hear those," she says mock-sternly, playfully slapping my hip. "You were supposed to wait until the third date, remember?"

"I can't wait, baby. The clock is ticking."

"I can't either!" Tears appear on her cheeks again, landing on my face and neck. After a few moments, her expression changes to a hungrier one as she licks up the salty drops with long, slow wipes of her tongue. Damn, this girl can turn tears into an erotic bodily fluid. Oh, are we going to be good together before this all crumbles!

She rolls onto her back, lifting her legs and grabbing me by my stiffening member. "Mmm, the cock is ticking too." There's no spanking now, just slow and steady lovemaking. I pump her slowly and deliberately while kissing her just as slowly and deliberately. Her already cum-saturated pussy makes squelching sounds that, like our awkward pauses over last night's dinner, are a shared experience that we both recognize as natural and laugh out loud over together.

Soon, Daphne's previous moans and squeals are replaced by deeper, more guttural groans and grunts. Her pelvis rises to meet mine, her greased clit grinding between us. "Faster, Joe!" She wraps her legs around me as I increase the pace. Eventually, still grunting, she puts one leg down and has me angle in deep. I feel my glans glancing off tiny Daphne's cervix with each thrust, but she just lightly squeals "oof!" each time and encourages, "More! More! Harder! Harder! I love you already, Joe Barnes!"

I find myself floating in pure ecstasy, and my cock floating in Daphne's jizz-flooded pussy, as I add several fresh spurts. I keep drilling as best I can, grinding my pelvis against her clit to make up for my limpening, and she peaks a minute or two later, her orgasm continuing over a broad plateau before she settles down, just as my depleted, benoodled member plops out of her.

"I love you already too, Daphne," I quietly declare as I descend between her legs and slowly, lovingly, cleanse her of my cream. She hums tender whimpers of approval while I work.

We’re not even done for the night. Ahead of us are eight months of weightless, soaring, searing love - and serious fucking adventure - before Fate runs our hearts through the shredder. The devastating outcome will be worth it.

= = = = = = = =

A subsequent story in this series, "Riverside Tail," was one of my first published here on Lush, catching up with me soon after graduation, my heart utterly shattered by the unavoidable breakup with Daphne. She is referred to in that story as "Heather" (a different tough, aromatic, flowering herb, I guess?), but it's the same timeline, the same spirit, and (except for less experience with men) a similar version of me. I'm leaving those discrepancies unchanged because it was a Competition entry.

Over time, I will share glimpses into the eight-month romance bookended between "Dating Daphne" and "Riverside Tail," telling more stories of my kinky explorations with the delightful Daphne. Soon will follow a fun foursome entitled "Daphne's Double Date," eventually to be followed by "Daphne's Halloween," "Daphne's Rubber Ding-Dong," and probably others.

In the meantime, readers who enjoy (or at least tolerate) the watersports kink can already savor "Daphne's Bath Accident" and "Spraying for Daphne's Forgiveness." These are collected in my Gee Whiz series with my other wet stories, but are fully part of this Becoming A Man / Daphne canon and timeline.