by W. Arthur
When a boy becomes a man and leaves home, he is generally convinced he knows what's best for himself. Until he discovers he really doesn't know. And when that day comes - if it ever does - he begins to search for someone who knows better than he does. I was in my mid-twenties when I had that epiphany. I was nearly thirty when I fully accepted it and began the search.
Still, finding that right woman and convincing her to share your life is not a simple process, as I soon discovered. I mean, you can try hanging out in bars and clubs; you can try various dating websites. I've known perhaps two or three men who have had success going these routes. But for me, while these methods may have led to a few short term relationships, they didn't lead me to making the kind of long term commitment I sought and needed.
Then, sometimes, if you are both lucky and receptive, you suddenly find what you have been seeking in the most unlikely of places. For me, it happened at my cousin Joey's wedding.
The wedding and the accompanying hoopla were like something out of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Only in this case, it was the merging of two large Italian families. Being one of the closer cousins (out of fourteen) and Joey's co-worker, I was one of seven groomsmen, appointed to match up with the bride's seven bridesmaids.
I met my counterpart at the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding. I learned that her name was Katherine Mahoney, the only non-Italian in the wedding party, and that she was the human resources director at Borinacci, LLC, the large industrial supply company the bride's family owned.
Katherine said that at first she was a bit uncomfortable because she wasn't Italian. But then she realized that Jenna's family wasn't all that different from her own large Irish family. In both families, she said, the men worked, usually at relatively demanding jobs, while the women took charge of the households... and the men. She then told me that was what she wanted in her own life but that she hadn't found it in her first marriage, which lasted three years.
I was, of course, intrigued. Katherine was (and still is), while perhaps not the most beautiful woman in the world, very attractive, with a face and body that always remind me of Maureen O'Hara in The Quiet Man. She is also very intelligent, well educated (MBA), and articulate. She is a woman who definitely knows her own mind. In short, she had all the qualities I was looking for.
I thought about my own qualifications. I had worked hard nearly all my life, beginning as a part time member of one of my Uncle Rocky's construction crews when I was fourteen. I still work for my uncle, but now I am his chief accountant and marketing manager. And I still work hard, even if I no longer wear a tool belt or carry lumber.
I sat with Katherine during the reception and quickly discovered that she didn't drink any alcohol. Nor did she think very highly of those who did. Of course, she did take a sip of champagne at the obligatory toast, but the rest of the evening she drank bottled water. Out of a sense of guilt, I also drank only water, forsaking the beer and champagne I would have selected had I been alone. It is truly amazing what a man will do sometimes when he is trying to impress a woman.
After the reception ended around midnight, she actually invited me back to her apartment. Although I didn't realize it at the time, I guess I must have passed the first test. As I was incredibly attracted to her and not in a relationship at the time, I eagerly accepted.
Thirty minutes later, we were safely inside her elegant two-bedroom apartment. I barely had time to admire her décor when she took my hand and kissed me hard on the lips. Then she pulled back and gave me a wicked smile. "Take your clothes off," she said in a voice that sounded very much like she was interviewing me for a job. After she gave me the directive, she sat down on the sofa and crossed her arms.
I flushed slightly, although I'm not sure why. This was certainly not my first experience undressing in a woman's apartment. And I wasn't particularly ashamed of my body. I may not work construction anymore, but I've kept my body trim and relatively hard. I looked at her as though seeking confirmation.
She clapped her hands twice. "Get moving. I want to see what kind of man I brought home."
Now I was beginning to feel as though this was some kind of audition, like I had to pass yet another test in order to be her lover, at least for tonight. Okay, I thought, I've played games before. Just go along with it and see where it leads. I nodded and removed my suit jacket. Then I removed my tie.
"Faster," she ordered. "I don't want to see a striptease. I just want to see what your body looks like."
Again, I nodded and finished undressing in record time, leaving my clothes in a pile on her living room floor. She stood up and approached me as though she was appraising a horse she intended to buy. She looked into my eyes; she felt my arms and abdomen. She circled me and ran a cool hand over my back and bottom.
When she finished her inspection, she stepped back and nodded. "Not bad," she said. "Now let's see what you can do with it." She pointed to a doorway that led to a short corridor. "Take me to the bedroom."
I gazed at her for a moment. She was still dressed in her wedding clothes while I was standing there completely naked. Did she really want me to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom? I studied her. She was, as I said, attractive with a trim yet sturdy body. I estimated her weight to be about a hundred thirty pounds. Could I lift and carry her a distance of what appeared to be at least twenty feet?
She held her ground, watching me with a bemused expression on her pretty face. This was obviously the third test... or perhaps the fourth. I wondered for an instant just how many tests I would have to pass in order to spend the night with her. Suddenly, this became a challenge I had to accept.
I took three steps toward her, put my hands under her legs and back, and scooped her up into my arms, somewhat surprised that I could actually do it. She put her arms around my neck and her head on my shoulder. "First door on the left," she said.
I nodded and moved in the indicated direction, again surprised that I didn't stagger or even drop her onto her backside. When we reached the doorway, she flipped a light switch, illuminating the room, which was clearly a large master bedroom with decidedly female trappings.
A queen-size bed with a beautiful multicolor quilt was directly in the center. Several large pillows were stacked neatly against the wooden headboard. "Set me down and undress me," she said.
Carefully, I set her down next to the bed and took a couple of deep breaths to steady myself. I hadn't done that much heavy lifting in several years. For her part, Katherine stood still, patiently waiting for me to do what she told me to do.
A lot of questions went through my mind at that moment. Should I undress her slowly and sensuously, or should I just rip her clothes off and throw her onto the bed? What do I do with her clothes after I remove them? So many questions that I had never really considered before. But then, I had never been in this position before where I was being tested.
If Katherine had been what I would call an ordinary woman, I wouldn't have cared whether I passed her tests or not. Love her and leave her, I might have said. Or, she's not worth the trouble.
But Katherine was not an ordinary woman; I knew that from the start. Her attractive face and body combined with her dominant demeanor stuck a responsive chord within me, and suddenly I could see a future with her even though I had known less than two days.
I opted for undressing her slowly, first removing her bridesmaid dress and setting it down carefully on the chair that matched her makeup table. Then I removed her undergarments one by one, stopping at her white satin panties. I looked at her seeking, I suppose, permission to remove the final barrier. She nodded.
When I had her panties off, she stepped back and sat down on the edge of the bed. She spread her legs, giving me the perfect view of her bare and glistening labia. She looked up at me. I already had a very uncomfortable erection. "Bring me off," she ordered.
I was no stranger to cunnilingus and certainly didn't mind doing it. I got down on my knees, crawled over to where she was sitting, and stuck my head between her legs. She put her hands on top of my head and laced her fingers through my hair.
I alternated between her labia and her clitoris, using her animation and vocal sounds as a guide. She tasted as sweet as she smelled, and I became incredibly aroused as I continued to swirl my tongue around her pubic area. I soon lost track of time and place, and only concentrated on the task at hand. Everything else in the world simply disappeared.
And then, all of a sudden, she seemed to explode. She shrieked; she pulled my hair; she clamped her legs around my head. Sensing that she had climaxed, I extricated myself from her legs and stood up. Immediately, she slapped my bottom very hard with her right hand. "Did I tell you to stop?" she demanded.
Now I was a bit confused. My previous experience with cunnilingus taught me that when a woman climaxes via your tongue, she is pretty much ready at that point for the 'real' thing. That was my assumption anyway. I know I was certainly ready for the real thing. "But... I thought..."
She scowled and gave me two more hard slaps. "Don't think," she said. "Do what I tell you to do." She paused as though waiting for me to react.
But, at that moment, I was speechless. I settled for gazing at her, no doubt with my mouth slightly agape.
She gave me a small smile. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get back down there and finish the job."
I thought I was finished, but then remembered that she told me not to think. I realized at that moment that she was firmly in control and that I was okay with it. I sank to my knees, put my head between her legs, and began to slowly swirl my tongue around her inflamed clitoris.
"Harder and faster," she ordered.
I jabbed my tongue in and out of her; I swirled faster. Her moans became increasingly louder, keeping time with her increasingly frantic body movements. Then, at last, just as I was starting to fatigue, she climaxed again. Only this time, her legs tightened, then relaxed to the point of being almost limp.
Although I knew she had come very hard, I remained where I was, awaiting further instructions. Part of me wanted to simply pin her to the bed and have my way with her, while another part wanted to see what she would do next.
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