Love Times 2 - Pt 7

Love Times 2

Part 7 of 15

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Our romance enters a new phase when Yvonne goes off to college. She and Kurt are separated for the first time. How does it affect her? How does it affect Kurt? We find out in Chapter 7 of this 15-part series.

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My anxiety levels escalated when Yvonne left town. It was the first time in my life that I worried about losing a relationship. Although I'd had warm, loving feelings for all the women I'd been with in the past, I'd never seen them as long-term partners. Those relationships were nothing more than hot, passionate affairs. They were never exclusive and never lasted more than a year or two. But I wanted Yvonne in my life forever. As the months went by, I was increasingly sure that it was a preposterous desire for a man my age.

She was only 19! It wasn't reasonable for me to expect any kind of commitment from a girl that young! Although I had decided I was ready to do whatever was needed to be Yvonne's life partner, I felt increasingly unsure of my ability to be the man she needed me to be.

I reacted badly. The first sign of my increasing paranoia came when I started looking in the mirror and noticing that I'd gotten softer over the years. I was in good shape for a guy in his mid-30s, but I'd looked much better when I was Yvonne's age. I knew that a lot of guys she'd meet in college would have buff, muscular physiques. I began thinking obsessively about the need to get in better shape for her, so I hired a personal trainer to teach me how to lift weights. She was very skilled, and she taught me a lot. I worked out with her three days a week for two months. By then, I knew enough to continue on my own.

I hadn't realized how quickly you can transform your body with weightlifting. It wasn't long before I looked dramatically different, with more well-defined muscles. I began obsessively reading about diets for weightlifters. Soon, there was a lot less fat on my frame. I didn't try to make myself look like a big, bulky bodybuilder, but I ended up with a better physique than I'd ever had before.

Yvonne noticed, of course. I was thrilled when she said she approved! As my body evolved, she spent lots of time caressing my muscles and letting me know she liked the new, improved me. That had been my goal. I'd hoped it would make me feel more secure.

That didn't happen. Becoming fit did little to relieve my worries.

I shaved my beard. I'd grown it years earlier in an attempt to look older. That happened during the period when I was trying to convince customers that I was experienced enough for them to trust me to take pictures for them. But patches of gray were visible in my beard, and I wanted to get rid of them.

It helped. I looked younger without my beard.

I talked to a stylist about reducing the amount of gray in my hair. She started me on a program where she made my hair darker by degrees. She tried to do it slowly enough that no one would notice a sudden change. In time, she got rid of most of the gray, leaving a little bit around my temples. I was glad that my hair was still nice and thick. My father always had a full head of hair, and I seemed to inherit that from him.

After several months of pumping iron, I noticed that my clothes didn't fit. They were too loose in the waist and too tight in the arms and shoulders. I went to a store that sold fashions for men in their 20s. They had tailored options that conformed better to my new, muscular body. Young men wear tighter clothing, and it took some time for me to get used to the new profile I saw in the mirror.

All these things changed my exterior, but none of them quelled my inner fears. When I thought about Yvonne, I couldn't stop worrying about the fact that she was surrounded by horny young men who had to see her as one of the most desirable co-eds on campus. I remembered what I was like when I was a freshman who sought out the sexiest girls I could find so I could ask them to pose for my art projects. I'd been relentless in my pursuit of pussy, and I used Dad's seduction techniques to persuade girl after girl to spread her legs.

As I tried to fall asleep, I found myself lying awake as I worried that Yvonne would be targeted by some smooth-talking, football-playing, Corvette-driving, designer-wearing, trust fund baby with an off-campus apartment equipped with a top-notch stereo, a fully stocked bar, and every recreational drug known to the DEA.

Pathetic, right?

In retrospect, it reminds me of something said by the author Edward Howe. "A thief believes everyone steals," he wrote. Because I'd been such a slut in college, I projected those qualities onto Yvonne. I didn't think about the fact that she was a better person than me.

This was my mental state on the day that I received a call from my former model, Cyndi. "Has that pretty little girlfriend of yours gone off to college yet?" Cyndi asked. "Are you ready to get together with me again?"

"She's gone, but I can't see you, Cyndi," I said.

"Aren't you getting horny?" she asked.

"You have no idea. I am going crazy. But I'm committed to making this relationship work. I can't get together with other women," I said.

"Kurt, you and I both know that having sex with me will do nothing to damage your relationship. Nothing," Cyndi said. "I don't want to take you away from your little girlfriend. All I want is some cock therapy, Kurt. My pussy is getting pretty desperate. I am ready for you to spend some quality time on top of me."

"Believe me, Cyndi, I want that so bad that I can barely believe I'm saying no," I replied. "But I am in love. I can't do it. Sorry."

"Love. Wow. Well, I hope that works out for you," Cyndi said. "Just remember that I'm available. These days, it's just me and my vibrator, Kurt. I'm ready to enjoy a nice hard cock again. You know how much I enjoy riding on yours."

It seemed to take forever for the first three weeks to go by so I could visit Yvonne. We arranged for me to reserve a room in an off-campus motel located within walking distance of her dormitory. The plan was for me to close the studio early Friday afternoon, then make the 90-minute drive to the city where Yvonne went to school. I got packed that morning and waited impatiently until it was time to leave. I had to use cruise control for most of the trip because I was so anxious to get there that I kept driving way, way, waaaaay too fast.

Before leaving town, I sent Yvonne a text. LEAVING NOW. NAV APP PREDICTS ARRIVAL IN 92 MINUTES. WILL TEXT IF ANYTHING CHANGES.

Soon, I got a response; she sent a heart emoji.

The plan was for Yvonne to check in first so she'd be there when I arrived. I was so excited that I had a boner by the time I knocked on the door. It was embarrassing, but there was nothing I could do about it. My concern about the bulge in my pants went away the second Yvonne opened the door. I was shocked by what I saw - but I was shocked in a good way!

"Where the fuck have you been, you miserable little slug!?" Yvonne snarled. "Why the hell are you late!? That is unacceptable! Totally unacceptable! Get your sorry ass in here so I can discipline you!"

You need to know that Yvonne was wearing the leather corset we bought for a kinky photo shoot that made her look like a dominatrix. She also wore a tiny leather thong, a black garter belt supporting fishnet stockings, towering stilettos, and heavy makeup. Her hair was styled in a severe-looking updo, and she held a belt that was folded in half. I got the feeling she was thinking of using that belt to put a few welts across my ass.

"I'm sorry, Mistress! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to be late!" For the record, I was right on time. But I understood the role I was supposed to play in Yvonne's fantasy scenario. She never did anything like this before. In retrospect, I realize that this was the very first time Yvonne took charge of what we did in bed. Until that day, I'd been the one who decided what we did and how we did it. Apparently, our little period of involuntary celibacy inspired Yvonne to try something new.

"Get in here and get your clothes off!" she said. "You're no use to me the way you are!"

"I'm so sorry, Mistress!" I said, stripping off my clothes as fast as I could. "I didn't mean to be late! Please don't punish me!"

"Shut up and do as you're told!" Yvonne said. At this point, I'd like to say how impressed I felt. Remember, Yvonne was 19 years old. We'd done some mildly kinky things, but this went WAY beyond anything we'd tried before! It was just one more thing that proved Yvonne's sexuality was a lot more complex than most girls her age. Her tastes were more refined. Her appetites were more powerful. It was consistent with everything else I knew about her - and it provided one more reason for me to love her.

"Get down! Down on your knees!" she said as soon as I was naked. She raised the belt over her head, snarled at me, and managed to look impressively threatening. "How do you propose making it up to me!? Why should I forgive you, worm!?"

"Let me please you, Mistress!" I said, doing my best to sound frightened. By this time, my cock was so hard it was pointing at the ceiling. Yvonne glanced at it and smiled briefly before resuming her role as an angry dom.

"Do you think you can do an acceptable job eating my pussy!?" she asked. "Don't bother trying if you don't think you can. It will just piss me off if you don't make me cum!"

"I can make you cum, Mistress! I can make you cum!" I said. "Please, let me try! Let me try to make you cum!"

"Very well!" she said. "But if you fail, I'll whip you so hard you won't be able to sit down for a month! Remove my panties! Take them off! Now!!!"

I carefully grabbed both sides of the thong and eased it gently down her body. The first thing that happened was I got a surprise. In the three weeks we'd been apart, Yvonne had grown a little landing strip on her pussy. It was very neat and trim. I liked it. A lot. My first thought was that I wanted to find a way to take some pictures of it.

"That's a very pretty landing strip, Mistress," I said.

"Of course it is! Did you expect it would be ugly!?" she said.

"No, Mistress! No! It's beautiful! I hope you'll let me touch it!"

"If you can make me cum, I'll let you touch it as much as you want!" she said. Yvonne got on the bed, spread her legs, and pointed to her pussy. "Get up here! Now! Get to work!"

By this time, my cock was throbbing with excitement. It was so hard it hurt. The head of my dick was that pale shade of purple you see with especially strong erections. Yvonne had never acted so forceful in the bedroom, and I loved it. Don't imagine that I'm some submissive wimp who craves abuse and degradation; I'm nothing like that. But it was thrilling to see the love of my life putting so much effort into giving us a new kind of erotic experience. I could pretend to be some fearful little simp if that's what she needed.

It was easy to see that Yvonne was excited by her little scenario. When I got closer to her pussy, I saw that it was glistening with arousal. Her inner folds were bright pink. I got a strong whiff of her feminine fragrance when I used my fingertips to spread her outer lips so I could kiss, lick, suck, and nibble her pretty pussy.

Yvonne's impersonation of a dominatrix fell apart as soon as my tongue licked her clit. "Ohhhhhhhhh!!!! Kurt!!!! My God, baby... my God... that feels sooooo good, baby... so good," she said. She dropped the belt and used both hands to pull my head closer to her pussy. "I've missed you so much, baby!" she said, sounding frenzied. "I thought I'd die without you!"

I glanced at Yvonne's face. Her eyes were closed tightly, and her features were contorted as her head rocked from side to side. She was more frantic than I'd ever seen her. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who'd suffered during our time apart. Maybe it sounds ridiculous that two adults could be so strongly affected by something as minor as a three-week separation. It says a lot about the strength of our feelings for each other - especially when it comes to the sexual side of our relationship.

Yvonne climaxed a few seconds after I began eating her pussy. As she gasped for breath and tried to recover, I decided that I wasn't ready to stop. After she calmed down a bit, I resumed, sucking her clit between my lips and licking it vigorously. It seemed likely that I'd have no trouble making her cum a second time orally. We'd soon find out.

She moaned and groaned as I continued, making all the sexy sounds I love when we're in bed. It's always nice to hear evidence that Yvonne likes what I'm doing to please her; it was especially nice after our time apart. Although it took a lot of work, I was eventually able to make her climax a second time. This orgasm was exponentially bigger than the first one. Yvonne shrieked joyfully when she came, producing a sound that made me as happy as I'd ever been.

"Wow, Kurt... just... wow," she said afterward as she tried to catch her breath. I watched the contractions in her pussy throb rhythmically as her climax faded away. My attitude is that pleasing Yvonne is my most important job. It felt as though I'd done that job as well as it could be done.

She eventually relaxed enough that I felt it was time to move on to what I wanted to do next. I placed the head of my cock at her pussy's opening, feeling anxious to finally push inside her. When I didn't immediately press forward, Yvonne hugged me and said, "Go ahead and give it to me, Kurt. Give me your cock. I'm ready for it, baby."

I was ready, too. More than ready. I pushed forward until just the head of my cock was inside Yvonne. Then I withdrew, paused for a few seconds, and pushed forward again until I was slightly deeper. I did this again and again and again, feeling Yvonne's excitement slowly build as I plumbed the depths of her sweet pussy.

Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed she was a lot tighter than I remembered. Was it because it had been three weeks since we'd had sex? Could she get that much tighter in such a short time? I don't know. All I can tell you is that it felt like I was having sex with a different woman. It was exciting for reasons I couldn't identify.

Soon, I was balls-deep in Yvonne. She got very excited by that time, getting louder and moving faster as she writhed beneath me. I realized I wasn't going to last much longer. I'd gone too long without relief, and being with Yvonne was too exciting for me to keep going for more than a few seconds. I didn't want to cum so soon, but I had no choice, so I slammed into her one last time before my cock erupted.

I came, and came, and came, and each time I felt like I'd never had a more powerful orgasm. Yvonne seemed to love how it felt for me to fill her pussy with seed, and she managed to climax soon after me. Her orgasm wasn't as big as the earlier ones, but she seemed happy.

We were panting as we recovered from the most rushed, frantic sex of our relationship so far. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I suspect that whoever wrote that was actually thinking about genitals, not hearts. My cock ached for Yvonne from the moment I saw her in that wild dominatrix outfit. Her pussy seemed to be just as anxious for a reunion.

(I just used Google to determine that the person credited with writing that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" is an ancient Roman poet named... wait for it... Sextus Propertius. I rest my case, your honor.)

We cuddled for the longest time. "I'm glad we have the whole weekend together," Yvonne said. "I've always wanted to spend an entire night beside you."

"You'll get to do that twice. Tonight and Saturday night," I said.

"Yeah. Sweet!" Yvonne said. "Have you thought about things you'd like to do when we aren't screwing each other's brains out?"

"Are you sure we'll have time for anything else?" I asked.

"I guess we'll find out," she said, reaching for my cock and wrapping her hand around it. We both knew that if Yvonne gave me a few minutes to recover, she could reliably get my cock hard again, and we could have sex one more time. We weren't surprised that my boner came back a lot faster than usual. Our second round of sex is always slower, gentler, and lasts longer. That's how it unfolded, and we were very happy and satisfied afterward.

"I do have an idea for something fun that doesn't involve sex," I said. "I have a gift for you. I think I'll like it."

"Ooooh! A gift! I think I like it already!" Yvonne said.

"Are you ready for me to give it to you?" I asked.

"Absolutely!" she replied.

I forced myself to get out of bed. That was harder than usual because our sex went on so long that I felt unusually tired. Drained. I opened my suitcase and removed Yvonne's gift. It was a fancy dress I bought for her to wear that night.

"I made reservations at a nice restaurant," I said, holding the dress high. It was a sexy little thing with a short skirt and a neckline that would display a lot of Yvonne's breathtaking cleavage. It was made from a clingy fabric that would conform to her feminine curves.

It was the kind of high-fashion couture Yvonne wished she could wear more often, but I'd never been able to take her to a place where such a dress was appropriate. It would have let people in our town know we were a couple, which was something Yvonne didn't want her parents to find out. Now that we were in another city, we could go out in public without fear of revealing any secrets.

Yvonne's face got as excited as a kid who'd just gotten what she wanted for Christmas. "Oh, Kurt. It's beautiful! I can't wait to try it on," she said.

"There's no need to wait," I said. "Would you like to see how it fits?"

Would she? She would! Yvonne jumped out of bed, moving a lot faster than when I pried my aging butt off the mattress. She unzipped the dress, stepped into it, and asked me to zip her up.

She stood in front of the mirror and looked happier than I'd seen her in ages. "It's fabulous. Just fabulous," she said. This was not the kind of outfit that high school students wore. This was a Big Girl dress.

"I also got some shoes. And pantyhose," I said, pulling those gifts from my suitcase. The skirt was too short for Yvonne to wear pull-up nylons; you'd see the tops. I picked expensive pantyhose that were sheer to the waist so you could wear them with the highest hemlines. They were a dark shade of smoky black and featured a sexy seam that ran up the back of each leg. The shoes were black, with heels just high enough to be stylish without looking too slutty.

"I love it. Love it," Yvonne said. "I don't know where I'll wear it, but I love it."

"You'll wear it tonight," I said. "We're going to the kind of restaurant where everybody dresses up. You'll fit in perfectly in this dress." That last part was a lie. I knew Yvonne would turn heads the moment she walked into the place. She'd be the prettiest woman there. But I thought she'd enjoy it more if she discovered that on her own.

Yvonne did her make-up, put on her new clothes, and asked if I thought she should keep her hair in an updo or wear it down around her shoulders. I love her long hair, and I'd told her that repeatedly, but I suggested she keep the updo for the rest of the evening. It looked more formal, and I thought she appeared older with her hair styled that way. Young women like it when they look more mature, and I suspected Yvonne would enjoy being seen as a mature adult, not a college student.

She made quite an impression as she walked across the dining room. Yvonne was easily the most attractive woman there that night, and I could tell that lots of men (and some women) were watching as she glided to our table. I pushed in her chair so she could sit down. Our server rushed to the table.

"Welcome to Bravissimo," he said. "I'm John, and I'll be taking care of you this evening." He passed out the menus and then asked if we wanted drinks or appetizers.

"We'll start with a shrimp cocktail," I said. "The lady will have a vodka martini, and I'd like a bourbon on the rocks." Our waiter was glad to hear my order. Customers who order drinks and appetizers rack up a bigger bill, which means the servers get bigger tips. I wanted to establish that our waiter needed to give us first-class treatment, and that he could expect to be rewarded for it.

After he left, Yvonne leaned forward and looked concerned. "Kurt, aren't you worried they'll want to check my age?" she whispered.

"There's no chance of that," I said. "Have you noticed that everyone here is looking at you? Every woman in this room wishes she was you, and every man wishes he was me. You look stunning, Yvonne. Stunning. No one is going to imagine that you are under 21. Everyone here is going to bend over backward to give you whatever you want."

She looked down and smiled. "You say the nicest things," she said.

"I love the way that necklace looks on you," I said. Yvonne was wearing the green stone I gave her before she left town. It was displayed inside her breathtaking cleavage.

"You just like looking at my boobs," she replied.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," I answered. "I also like touching them. Kissing them. Don't get me started. If you aren't careful, you'll give me a boner that neither one of us can do anything about."

"I'll take care of your boner later," she said.

"I'm counting on it," I replied.

We looked at the menus. Yvonne told me she wanted a steak, but that she didn't think she could eat that much. "Would you like the petite filet mignon? That's a smaller portion. Besides, don't feel obligated to eat everything they serve. You don't have to be a member of the Clean Plate Club tonight." She told me what side dishes she wanted, and I think she was charmed by the idea that I intended to order for her. This was the first time I took Yvonne on a real date, and I wanted to make sure she learned how a gentleman treats a lady.

When the waiter returned, I ordered for Yvonne, then said I wanted a blackened salmon filet served with steamed broccoli. "That's the kind of meal an athlete would have," she said after the waiter left. "Are you on a health kick?"

"That's exactly right," I said. "Yvonne, I've felt very stressed since you left town. Being without you makes me anxious. I'm having a hard time getting to sleep. I thought it would be good for me to finally do something about my lifestyle. I hired a personal trainer, and I've been trying to improve my diet. It's too soon to say whether it's helping, but I figure it can't hurt."

I didn't mention that a big part of the reason for my sudden interest in health was that I wanted to look younger. I wasn't comfortable revealing that I felt so insecure.

Dad had always advised me to have certain types of conversations with women I wanted to seduce. "Keep your mouth shut and your ears open," Dad said. "Get them to talk about themselves. Girls love that. If they ask you a question, answer it as quickly as possible, then steer the conversation back to them.

"Most guys are knuckleheads who can't shut up. They talk about cars, and sports, and all kinds of crap that girls don't give a damn about. Girls want to talk about themselves, so let them talk."

"What do you think of college so far?" I asked. I intended to get Yvonne talking, and my strategy worked. She began talking about lots of things you'd expect to hear from an incoming freshman getting her first exposure to higher education. She sipped her martini, getting increasingly talkative as more of the drink made its way to her empty stomach. Soon she was smiling and laughing. I felt like I was doing a good job taking care of the woman I loved.

"There's one thing that bothers me," she said. "Kurt, I don't want you to think this is a big problem. It's minor, really. But it surprised me, and it was an unpleasant surprise."

"If you're trying to reassure me, it's not working," I said. "Tell me what happened."

"A bunch of girls in my dorm were sitting around talking about boyfriends," she said. "They were taking turns explaining which ones had boyfriends. Which ones didn't. That kind of gossipy bullshit.

"As they were talking, I realized that they were going to ask if I had a boyfriend. It put me in an uncomfortable position. If I told the truth, they'd pump me for information until they figured out that I'm involved with an older man. They'd see that as nice gossip, and it wouldn't be long until every girl in my dorm knew about it.

"I considered saying I didn't have a boyfriend, but if I did that, the girls would immediately get to work trying to fix me up with some boy who wants to get laid. No thanks.

"I finally decided to tell them that I'm in a relationship with a guy I dated in high school. That satisfied them. It will stop them from trying to hook me up, and it will keep them from gossiping about me.

"It's annoying. I didn't realize I'd have to keep being deceptive about our relationship," she said. "Since we got together, I've had to lie to my parents about you. I've kept you a secret from my friends. From everyone I know. I thought I could go to college and stop lying all the time. I'd looked forward to being able to live the life of an honest woman. I guess I hadn't thought about it enough."

"I'm sorry that happened," I said. "If you'd like to let people know about our relationship, you can do that."

"No! God no!" she said. "My Mom would have a cow! She thinks I'm still a virgin! I've always been honest with my parents, but this is something they can't handle. Not yet. My parents and I are getting along really well right now. They are proud of me for being such a good student and for getting such a good job. They would go nuts if I told them I was involved with my boss!

"I've thought a lot about this, and I am certain that our private lives need to remain private. For now," she said. "It's not a big deal, Kurt. The other girls in my dorm have no right to know anything about that part of my life. But I wanted you to know that happened. I think we're going to deal with this kind of bullshit for a while."

"I'll do whatever you want," I said.

She smiled. "Thank you for saying that," she said. "I want things to continue as they are."

Yvonne finished her martini, and I ordered her another. She was having such a nice evening that I wanted to do whatever I could to make it better. I realized that Yvonne would probably want to go to sleep soon after the cocktails wore off, but that was no problem. We'd have all day tomorrow to do whatever we wanted. I looked forward to spending the night in her arms.

I ate slowly, trying to savor every bite. The nutritional advice I'd found online advised people to avoid rushing through meals. One writer suggested taking a bite, putting down the fork, and refraining from picking it up again until the bite was chewed and swallowed. Since I was trying to curb my calories, the tactic made sense.

Yvonne did so much of the talking that she took even longer to finish her meal. That was fine. There was no rush. The atmosphere of the restaurant was pleasant, and I was in no hurry to leave.

Yvonne looked very happy when we got back to our hotel room. "Thank you for tonight, Kurt," she said. "Thank you for this dress. For the restaurant. For everything."

"You are most welcome, Mistress," I said. "I am always your faithful servant."

"Yes. Yes, you are," she said. "But I think I'd like to do something nice for you right now. Let's put on some music." The room's television had a built-in radio, so she set it to a station that played hip-hop oldies.

"Sit down," she said, guiding me to a chair. "I want to dance for you."

That sounded marvelous. We'd created a few video recordings of Yvonne doing exotic dancing for me, and I suspected she was going to treat me to a show featuring a striptease. That sounded like a perfect way to end what had been a perfect day.

She turned off all the lights in the room, then turned on an app that made the screen of her phone look like a candle. I'd never heard of such a thing. A candle on her cellphone screen. It might sound crazy, but it did a pretty good job of making it look as though the room was lit by candlelight. She propped the phone on a table beside the bed, and then began moving to the music. It only took a few seconds before I was hard as oak.

She looked smoking hot in her new dress. Her long, shapely legs were shown prominently. A generous amount of cleavage was on display. It made me think of something she'd said once about her boobs. Yvonne claimed that she wore a C-cup bra most of the time, but that on certain days of the month, she became a D-cup. She had one of those phone apps that tracked her monthly cycle, and she used it to make sure we had nude photo shoots on days when her boobs were the biggest.

In the faux candlelight, Yvonne's cleavage looked especially dramatic. The pale yellow candlelight reflected off the bright green stone in her necklace. It made that part of her body look especially enticing. I couldn't help but wonder if I was seeing Yvonne at a time when her endowment was largest.

She kicked off her high heels and danced closer. After a few minutes of dancing, she let down her hair and rolled her head in big circles that sent her long locks flying in all directions. I felt like the most privileged man alive. The idea that such a sexy and desirable woman was dancing for my eyes only was profoundly flattering. Although I often felt insecure in our relationship - thinking it was unreasonable for a man my age to expect Yvonne to be with me forever - at that moment, I was able to imagine that she would always be mine.

"Unzip me," she said, getting close and turning her back to me. I did as she asked, allowing her to lower the dress and drape it across a chair. That left her wearing nothing but a lacy black bra and pantyhose. She danced for a few more minutes, then reached behind her back and took off the bra. Rather than prolong things, she immediately shimmied out of the hose and stood before me naked.

"I'm going to take care of you," she said, kneeling between my legs. She unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, and pulled out my hard cock. Yvonne looked into my eyes, smiled sweetly, then sucked my cock between her lips.

During the months since we became intimate, Yvonne hadn't spent much time sucking my cock. She'd only given me one complete blowjob. She didn't have a lot of experience as a cocksucker, but she didn't act uncertain. Instead, she held the shaft securely as she bobbed her head up and down. She did an especially good job sucking my cock as she took me deep into her mouth. She ran her tongue along the underside as my dick moved in and out.

Yvonne managed to smile at me with her mouth full, giving me a sly wink. She stroked the shaft with her fist, exciting me so much that I knew I'd cum soon. No man ever enjoyed a blowjob more than I enjoyed what Yvonne was doing at that precise moment. I had to remind myself that she'd been an inexperienced virgin a few months earlier. Together we'd taken the journey that led from her state of innocence to her emergence as a sexy, exciting, mature woman who knew everything needed to give me all the pleasure a man could ever want.

"I'm going to cum, baby," I whispered. It seemed that I should warn her, but I didn't think it was necessary. I knew Yvonne was going to let me cum in her mouth. I knew she was going to suck every drop down her throat. I knew she'd keep sucking until my cock was limp.

That's exactly what she did. Yvonne began sucking a little harder when she felt my cock begin to throb. Her grip on my shaft got a little tighter. She stroked a little faster. Her pretty head stopped bobbing up and down as she sucked my cock deep into her mouth. Soon I began to cum, and cum, and cum. Suck. Swallow. Suck. Swallow. Yvonne performed like a champion. I've never had a better blowjob than the one she delivered that night.

"Ohhhhh... baby... that felt fabulous..." I said after it was over. She looked up with a girlish grin.

"You liked it!?" she asked.

"Loved it. I loved it," I replied.

Yvonne climbed into my lap and put her arms around my neck. "Let me take care of you," I said, expecting that she'd want me to eat her pussy. I assumed that I'd have another erection after I made her climax, and that she'd enjoy having sex one more time before bedtime. But that wasn't what she wanted.

"I'm fine the way I am. You've been taking care of me since you walked in the door. I just wanted to do something nice for you," she said.

"You did. And I'm grateful. Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome," she replied.

Pretty soon, Yvonne said she wanted to go to bed. It wasn't very late, but I suspected the cocktails made her want to turn in early. That was fine. She told me she wanted to put on her pajamas, and I asked if she could skip them.

"You want to sleep naked?" she asked.

"If that's alright," I answered.

"Well... sure," she said, smiling sweetly as she crawled between the sheets. I wrapped my arms around her warm body. It was nice to know I could spend the entire night beside her.

The next day was amazing. We spent every hour together, never worrying that someone might spot us. Yvonne took me on a walk around campus. I was surprised how much had changed since I was a student. There was a new recreation building that housed a fancy workout facility for students. Yvonne said guests were allowed to use the facility, and I thought it would be fun to work out together, but then I remembered that Yvonne needed to keep her friends from discovering she was privately involved with an older man. It was one more thing that would have to wait until we could drop the secrecy about our relationship.

She showed me the art building. There was a big computer lab with dozens of high-powered Macs loaded with all the software any art major would ever need. "I do my homework here, and I'm going to do your image processing work on these machines," Yvonne said. "I like having a full-size monitor, a good keyboard, and a real mouse. My laptop is nice, but I get tired of hunching over such a small machine."

"Laptops are marvels of miniaturization, but I need a desktop machine for serious work," I said. "I suspect you'll spend a lot of time in this lab."

We had sex in the morning, the afternoon, and just before bed. We had sex again on Sunday morning before I had to check out of the hotel and return home. Both of us were sad that our short time together was over, but we enjoyed one last meal, then I drove Yvonne to her dorm before getting on the interstate and going home.

It had been wonderful, but it ended much too soon. As I drove, I promised myself that I wouldn't get clingy. We'd stay in touch, but we couldn't have those endless video calls where we'd talk interminably about how much we missed each other. I'd keep acting like an ideal boyfriend, showing up with thoughtful gifts and giving Yvonne just the right amount of loving attention.

It seemed impossible that we had to endure four more years of this. I wasn't sure either one of us had the fortitude for such a thing.

Soon, I discovered that I did not possess that much strength

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Uh-oh. That sounds ominous. Find out what Kurt means in Chapter 8.