Awakening 02 – Robyn

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Hey, It’s Robyn here. Yup – Robyn with a y.

You would probably assume that I am some kind of freak or hippy chick with a name like that, but nope. Plain ole vanilla gal here. But with a y.

Sometimes it’s a little tough being a plain old normal girl…um….woman in a world that fetishizes individuality to the point of excess. Everybody my age (I’m a year out of high school) seems to feel the need to have blue hair, and a dozen tattoos and piercings. I don’t knock that, but it’s just not me.

I guess I’m not really being totally straight with you here. I don’t want to sound arrogant, but I do get told that I am beautiful from time to time, so I guess I’m not “normal” in that way. That always weirds me out a little because like most girls, I only seem to see my flaws. Even when I was a little girl, people would comment on how dramatically my seaglass blue eyes contrasted with my thick chestnut brown hair.

And speaking of chests, (LOL), I’ve always gotten a lot of attention there. When you have a body like Jayne Mansfield (google her), people notice. I’m naturally athletic; I played high school field hockey and soccer, and took lots of dance classes. The end result is that although I’ve always been curvy, I’ve also always been trim, fit and have had great skin. I still do. Oh, and one more thing; I have dimples – not as adorable as Kim’s (a girl I know from high school) but still pretty darned cute, if I say so myself.

I get my looks from both my gorgeous mom and manly dad. My mom was model material back in the day; blonde, slimmer than me, and had that “1000 watt” smile you hear about. As a 45 year old woman, she still turns heads wherever she goes.

So it was only natural that she and my dad would end up together; he is a total man’s man. Star football and track athlete in high school and college, and eventually military lifer in the Marines. As an officer, he definitely ran the tightest ship in the most masculine branch of the service. He saw lots of active duty and won lots of awards for courage and leadership.

Which is awesome…..except if you’re his daughter!

My brothers have always been encouraged to be active, dynamic and aggressive. But there was a different standard for “princess”. I was always expected to be demure, charming and feminine. Don’t get me wrong, every little girl wants to be a princess, but that gets pretty old when she becomes an independent, strong, young woman like I am now. Unfortunately, Dad’s always had a really hard time seeing me as anything other than that 5 year old charmer in a princess costume and tiara.

What makes matters worse is that my body just oozes sexuality all by itself. Anything I wear enhances everything I’ve got, and when I put on a bathing suit? – game over. I think it kinda terrifies him that I could be a sexual being. Remember, I’ve had this bod for a while, so he’s been dealing with it for a while. I can just imagine, being a macho guy, how he feels seeing guys go speechless around his “baby girl”, or craning their necks to check me out while trying to avoid making it obvious.

Moving around a lot as a military brat, I had to constantly be “the new kid” in school and whatever neighborhood we were living in. Boys would fall all over themselves trying to charm “the new pretty girl” and then get pissed when I didn’t react the way they wanted. Girls would be jealous that I was getting all the attention, and deliberately try to freeze me out to get rid of “the competition”. That led me to being a bit reserved and cautious. I quickly learned to keep my distance until I got the lay of the land, and that probably made me seem a little cold or aloof.

Also, I guess I couldn’t help but internalize the messages my father made clear; that women are either “nice girls” or “sluts”. He married a gorgeous “nice girl” – his high school sweetheart (and prom queen to his prom king), and so that is what he knows. In fact, I don’t believe Mom ever even dated anyone else before him.

Complicating all this, my older cousin Sandy had a pregnancy scare right after high school and almost had to postpone college. Dad got wind of that and used her as “a good example of a bad example” to me and my brothers endlessly, but especially to me. During car rides, at the dinner table, and whenever we saw a woman with a baby stroller, he’d give us another lecture about how “she nearly ruined her life”. He seemed to especially drive that message home to “his princess” in particular. It’s not as though I had any intention of ever being reckless, but I guess that to him, my body suggested otherwise.

Unfortunately, I guess I ended up internalizing a lot of his ranting, even though I thought it was definitely over the top. I loved being his princess: making daddy happy. Being from a secure, stable “Father knows best” home, it was easy to embrace the role of the virtuous “good girl”, just like Mom. I was a good student, I built “good girl” friendships (once I got established in a school), and dressed attractively, but never provocatively. Ankara bayan escort To be fair, I never had to dress provocatively to get attention; anything I wore ended up looking pretty hot.

So here is where things get tricky for me. I love being a “good girl”, but guess what; every woman has a little bit of “slut” in her – even levelheaded, responsible, normal, “good girl” women like me. By slut, I don’t mean “sleeps around carelessly” or “attention whore”, but rather I use the term as maybe “wants to be a little naughty with the man she loves”

And that man currently is an incredible hunk of a guy named Stevie – er, I mean Steve (he recently let me know that it was time to stop “having a five year old’s name” – more on that later). Steve is kinda the male version of me; healthy looking, great bod, athletic, gorgeous face, looks great in anything he wears, but also like me, he’s a bit old-fashioned, repressed and maybe a little immature.

We get told all the time that we would “make beautiful babies” or are “the perfect couple”. We are definitely known as the “hot couple”, which kinda makes me blush. In fact, that girl Kim (why do I keep mentioning her?) once revealed to me after a few wine spritzers that she has visualized the two of us having sex, and it was a real turn-on for her. I kinda wanted to be “ewww” about that, but it actually feels pretty flattering and I have to admit that the thought of her visualizing, and maybe even masturbating to it, is kinda hot. I have to laugh about that though; she’s such a sweet, innocent girl-next-door nerd, that I find it hard to imagine her even thinking about masturbating, let alone actually doing it.

What people don’t realize about Steve and I is that we are also soulmates as well. I know he’s gorgeous, but I don’t think about it so much, because what I really love about him is that he’s mostly kind and generous and funny and smart. I really love that we have the same twisted sense of humor, and love the same kind of music and movies and stuff. Oh, and food. We LOOOVE sharing funky ethnic food. We are both also pretty responsible for our age, and I like that too.

I honestly see Steve as “Mr. Right”, and think he feels the same way about me. I know we totally love each other, and I can’t imagine finding someone better suited to me. And my dad loves him, and why wouldn’t he? Steve was a great high school athlete like Dad and has the aloof male distance that my dad identifies with. That is, Steve was aloof until recently — more on that later.

Steve was not my first, nor me his. Although I was a “princess”, I have always gotten asked on a lot of dates, and eventually I did some of the experimenting with men that most normal young adult women do – but always with good respectable guys, and never to excess. And when I say “men”, I mean two guys only (besides Stevie).

And oral sex with those guys? Forget it! I got the message early and often that those kinds of acts were gross, unnatural, and, again- “slutty”. I never dared or wanted to do any of that stuff, because I thought something terrible might happen and I would end up like poor old Sandy; the talk of the town. I can tell you now that I was secretly a little envious of Sandy’s lessez-faire attitude, rough humor and party girl approach to life.

Then I got together with Steve. We’d had an ongoing flirtation during our junior and senior years, but he never got his nerve up enough to ask me out, and a good girl NEVER asks a boy out, even if she really wants to.

After we’d graduated, a friend who knew we were into each other, but saw that it just wasn’t happening, set us up on a “blind date”. I was really nervous waiting at the restaurant with the other girl, but when the friend (her boyfriend) came in through the door with Steve, he and I both burst out laughing – and finally were able to take our flirting to the next level.

He was soooo hot (still is), and I was a little bit experienced by then. I knew my Dad approved of him. Most of all, though, Steve made me laugh, and I instantly fell for him and felt a strong emotional bond. When we started “fooling around” (after the mandated 10 dates as indicated in the “good girl” handbook LOL – he was very patient!), it turned out to be an emotional as well as physical experience for me. We were really “making love”, and sometimes I would even cry during and after because I was so moved.

Also, he never pushed me for anything unusual; he seemed to be happy with “plain vanilla” missionary, (I wouldn’t try any other positions back then) When he did ask about oral sex, and I said I thought it was gross or slutty, he accepted that. I’m not sure he really felt that way about it, however. He’d been with a few women (always “respectable”), and I think he – or his good looks – might have convinced one or two to do that with him.

The sex with Steve really felt great, and we both were really into it in the way twenty year-olds usually are. It was at least four or five times a week, Escort bayan Ankara and sometimes even two or three times in a day! Although I never had orgasms (sorry for being crude!), I didn’t feel like I was missing anything, because the experience was always so emotionally rich.

Things changed however. In the middle of this love fest, I suddenly developed a “lady problem” down there. It was nothing serious, but sex was definitely out of the question! I knew it would take a little while for it to clear up, and that if I rushed it, I’d have to start the process of healing all over again, so I made it clear to Steve that it would be “hands off” for a while.

I think this left Steve feeling pretty frustrated. We had been going at it pretty regularly, and now nothing, and nothing in sight. He once again brought up manual or oral sex, but “daddy’s princess” shut that down pretty quickly, although to be honest I was getting pretty darn curious about those things. By the way, I mean handjobs and blowjobs – I sometimes still have trouble using those “naughty” words.

His response to all this let me down a bit. He was just kinda ‘well, ok…..” but then he would get pouty about it, and be like a sad little boy, moping around. This was so disappointing to me. I was secretly hoping he would kinda push the issue and – I hate this term, but – “be a man” about it.

You see, by then I’d had a taste of some pretty hot sex with him, and was rethinking my reluctance about these “slutty” acts. I was getting curious. I now realize I was secretly hoping he’d push me to the point where I could get away with pretending to “finally give in and do it”, and it would look like he was “forcing me to be a bad girl”, and I could “surrender”, but actually get what I was becoming more eager to try. But I kept up the “good girl” facade.

His meekness and willingness to roll over was really starting to concern me. Could I really spend the rest of my life with someone with no backbone? He was fearless on the playing field and quickly shut down any guy who tried flirting with me. He even knocked a guy unconscious who said “nice tits” to me at a convenience store one time! But for some reason, he was really meek and kinda like a lost little boy with me. NO woman wants to be a mommy to her partner, and I was starting to think that was where we were headed.

Luckily, something pretty dramatic changed. I’m not sure exactly who or what got to him, but if I could, I’d personally thank who or whatever caused this change.

Anyway, the tension between us was getting more and more uncomfortable, and he started hanging with other friends. He especially seemed to be hanging out a lot with his best high school friend Dean, and Kim, that girl I seem to keep mentioning.

I knew Dean as a really sweet guy and everyone knew how close he and Steve were due to having been co-captains of track in high school. Dean, for some reason, seemed to be hanging with Kim a ton. I was not concerned about Steve hanging with her because, as I mentioned, she’s so nerdy and innocent, how could she be a threat?

Maybe it was good that we were spending time apart.

I started spending more time with my gal friends and got a bit of an awakening myself. We would get into “girl talk”, and they would eventually talk about stuff they were doing with guys; casual sex, blowing guys and receiving oral, even experimenting with other girls! On the outside I was all “ewwww – gross” because I had to still be the “good girl”, but on the inside I was all “mmmm that sounds interesting”.

And if I can be a little crude here — some nights I got a little horny from those stories and tried masturbating a little bit. I’d never done that, so it felt weird at first and brought up some of that old “good girl/slut” stuff, but what the hell? It’s legal and I’m an adult, right? Plus, I went from lots of yummy sex to none, so my body was definitely missing those sensations.

Things became pretty confusing for me. Steve was spending less and less time at our apartment, and things were becoming colder and colder between us.

I finally came to the conclusion that maybe it was time to take a real break, and maybe live separately for a while. In fact I was pretty much convinced that it was time for that talk and was steeling myself for that conversation.

He seemed so fragile lately- how would this affect him?

Just as I was planning my “speech”, the door opened and in he came. I figured I should just jump into it. “Stevie, um, I think we need to…”

He interrupted me. “Listen Robs,” he said. “I think it might be time to dispense with the “Stevie” business. How about I go by “Steve” from now on? I’m not a kid anymore.”

My heart jumped a little, and when I looked up at him, he seemed to be standing a little straighter, looking a little more self-assured.

“So, what were you saying?” He asked.

“Um…nothing.”, I lied. “How was your afternoon?”

“Um, interesting…” he replied.

“Weren’t Bayan escort Ankara you just kinda hanging around with Dean and Kim?” I asked.

“Yeah…” he said, but nothing more.

I didn’t want to inquire about the “interesting” part, because quite frankly, I was a little nervous about what the implications of that might be, given our recent detente. I noticed that he seemed a little distracted, but also not so eager to please me. I liked that part.

“Hey look, I’m gonna hop a quick shower, ok?”, and then he was gone before I had a chance to respond.

Come to think of it, he did seem to be a little sweaty, which I guess seemed kinda odd.

I was really confused now. Here I was, about to break it off for a while, and he comes in seeming more like what I’d been secretly hoping for.

I’d been ignoring the sink full of dishes for a while, so I figured that would be a good thing to do while he showered. I put on some lo-fi music and got to it. A little while later, I heard the bathroom door open and footsteps behind me. I wasn’t exactly dressed to impress (barefoot, jeans, a white tee (but no bra!) my hair up in a red bandanna, no makeup), but as I’ve been told, I’m pretty hot, even dressed down. Apparently he thought so….

Suddenly, hands on my waist from behind. This was new, but felt so nice after our recent distance. Then his breath on the back of my neck. I was definitely intrigued, but who was this guy? He was sweet, but sex was always so formulaic and predictable. I was surprised, and a little confused, but also felt a little warm feeling in my tummy.

“Mmmmm….” He purred into my ear, and followed that up with a little nibble on my earlobe.

He had my attention. His hands started moving up my t-shirt over my belly up to my breasts, um – I mean tits – moving up to the underside of my tits.

It was broad daylight, not a dark room at night. We were standing up, fully clothed (I thought), not laying naked in a bed. This was all new and unexpected for me, and VERY exciting.

Then – ow! – but wow!

He gave my nipples a twist through my t-shirt! Not a yank, but a gentle little teasey pinch! He’d never done that! He’d always treated my body with such reverence; as though he was afraid to hurt me. But guess what; I immediately learned that I really liked being manhandled that way!

But then, my vagina…..I mean PUSSY – my pussy started to react, and I felt a pang of discomfort. That lady problem!

Crap! Not now! Ugh!

“Stevie – um, I mean Steve…” I started, “I’m really sorry – I’m loving this, but we can’t…”

“Listen Robs,” he interrupted

“I need you to stop talking now.” He stated this clearly and calmly.

What?!? How dare he!

He’d previously never dared to speak that way to “the princess”. It was definitely an affront, or at least if felt like that to me, and I immediately felt the sting. At the same time, however, I was intrigued by this new assertiveness.

He continued; “So Robs – here’s how it’s gonna go.”

He whispered or maybe growled in my ear from behind; “You’re gonna suck and lick and tongue my cock until I come on your face, or in your mouth, or on your tits, or wherever I want…”

Whoa! – Where did that come from?

He didn’t know that I secretly had been hoping for that – or did he?! I played at being “princess” again.

“But Steve….” I started, desperately hoping he’d shut me down again.

He did.

“But nothing…” he said. “….every girl has a little bit of slut in her, but a little bit of slut doesn’t make a girl a slut.”

Whoa — did he go to a seminar or something? He was exactly right, but most guys never realize that!

“……and let’s just see if there’s a little bit of slut in THIS good girl.” He growled in my ear from behind.

Instantly soaked pussy! even with the discomfort.

Then, oh my! I felt my breasts…um….I mean my TITS being manhandled from behind again. MMMMMM.

Then his hands found the bottom of my t-shirt and up over my head it went, taking my bandanna with it.

I was left standing there wearing only my tight jeans and a smile, my bushy uncombed hair going everywhere, and my tits out. I suddenly felt so sexy and desired, bared to the world (literally! We were standing in front of a window!) And his hands were all over my tits again, his mouth all over my neck and earlobes. I felt so naughty and so relieved! I was being taken…like a …a…”slut”, and I seemed to have no say in it, and I was loving every second of it!

He spun me around to face him. I was surprised to see he was naked from head to toe! No bathrobe! In broad daylight!

And what a sight he was; he still had that yummy athlete body, and although he doesn’t have a “monster cock” (what a stupid name!) there’s plenty there, and it was lookin pretty good, and it was definitely happy to see me.

“On your knees” he demanded. Whoa.

I eagerly complied.

The weird “good girl/slut” tape tried to begin playing in my head, but I shut that down.

Can you believe that at 20 years old, I’d never before had a penis – um – I mean COCK, I’d never had a cock in my mouth before? I’d never even really seen one up close. It had always been “out of the pants, into the vagina, orgasm, back in the pants” with Steve and the other men.

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