Caffeine and Miss Forgetful

"You're beautiful." I said. My jaw was probably hanging open as my mouth watered.

"The bane of my existence," she said, then smiled. "but it still gives me pleasure. It's been very persistent since we began dating."

Just as I was about to reach out and hold my first dick, her dammed phone chimed. I guess I shouldn't curse her phone; in a way, it was what brought us together. It glowed on the counter next to her purse. She jogged over to it, ass cheeks flailing nicely.

"It's Gemma from work," she said, then read aloud her response to the text as she typed it. "I m gr8 I m with Trent, face with tongue."

"Boyfriend Trent." I corrected her.

"BF Trent, she retyped and sent. "She may interpret it as Butt Fucked by Trent" Pooja giggled.

"True either way," I commented.

"At least I won't be thought of as the office prude anymore," she said, turning back towards me, her cock dancing.

The unforgettable night continued as she reached behind her back and disconnected the white lace bra, which whipped around her torso and was dropped into the open purse. Arms raised and flipping her hair behind her back, she walked toward me in the stockings only, her unstable breasts jolting her bumpy, dark brown areolas as her erection enticingly wagged back and forth. My own cock throbbed as I got a better view of her thick nipples, extended excessively outward as if they were already being drawn deeply into an invisible mouth.

Our eyes met as we fell together on the couch, kissing with heavy breath and our unattended dicks rubbing undersides in a sort of ritual mating dance. Our hip motions became deliberate, as if we were trying to start a fire by rubbing the two cocks together. A sudden misalignment and lack of mutually touching penile flesh immediately caused us to send a hand down to resume contact. That inevitably led to us grasping the other's shaft, tugging, twisting, enjoying the sensation of the skin traversing the muscle beneath. We kept them mashed together, seemingly attempting to meld them into a single penis.

After a mutual fondling of balls, I pushed Pooja's petite frame upward from below and alternately took her protruding nipples past my lips and sucked loudly while she held the back of my head, moaning and repeating my name.

Encouraged by my success so far, I bench pressed her higher by her ass cheeks, and craned my neck back to take that beautiful, hard, chocolate-brown dick into my mouth. Her repetition of my name resumed, but in protest as I began to slurp madly on the stiffened meat. I had never sucked a dick before, but didn't first indulge in the subtleties of sampling or licking. I simply engulfed it, urgently satisfying a years-long craving for a hard penis in my mouth. It felt absolutely terrific as I repeatedly wrapped my lips around her shaft and drew her flesh inward.

Beautiful Pooja gasped and her reluctance waned. She lowered her stocking-ensconced legs to relieve my arms of the burden of her weight, and even began grunting and occasionally pumping her pelvis to meet my pursed mouth, her nuts striking my chin. My own cock throbbed below in the dim light, but I dared not lose focus on her delicious tubular meat, as it pounded the back of my throat.

An up-tempo trumpet tune emanated from the store's speakers, and soon the beautiful Indian-descended woman was moaning continuously and gripping the back of my head and spastically face fucking me, not from aggression but from the exaggerated, fast-paced pressure she apparently needed to orgasm. I was noisily gulping with each thrust, drooling copiously down my chin onto my chest, my ignored cock throbbing to the point of aching, but I couldn't have been happier. I was lucky enough to meet a smart, adorable, beautiful girl with a gorgeous, delectable dick. Not many guys would say that, I know.

After several more minutes of my relentless choking on her erection, Pooja began groaning like she was pushing a car up a hill. Finally she reached the apex, and cried out with tones of relief as I tasted a modest stream of her saline fluid. Infertile, no doubt, but what mattered most was that I made my girl orgasm. Holding her soft ass, I swallowed her gift joyously before she pulled away from me, her gloss coated, arched, softening penis dropping from my bottom lip, pulling a thick string of saliva with it. I hated feeling it leave.

In moments we separated; Pooja to 'pee' as she called it, and me to wipe off my saliva-splattered chest at her insistence.

I returned to the sofa after a piss and quick clean up and waited, and waited a bit longer then returned to knock on the ladies' room door. My tapping was answered by sneaky Pooja, out among the shelves somewhere.

"Tre-ent!" she called out softly, "Come find me, and penetrate me again! Where could I be?"

Here I was naked, dick hard, walking around this darkened bookstore, avoiding the areas near the windows, since anyone driving by slowly would think there was a nudist burglar inside. I figured Pooja was by the Jazz section, but I had no idea where that was among the two dozen or so tall library shelves lined up in the room. A passing garbage truck with its higher headlights illuminated things just enough that I saw a shapely figure creeping around. I ran crouched down along a line of furniture in order to circle around and sneak up behind her.

I rounded the corner, and there she was, still naked of course, except for the black stockings, facing away squatting but checking in various directions for my progress. Below her beautiful curves, Pooja's scrotum had loosened up some, and her balls swung around a bit as she moved. I crawled on my hands and knees until I was close, then was met by a solid elbow in the nose.

5

'There's no blood, I'm fine!" I insisted as Pooja apologized for about the tenth time for accidentally socking me. My plans to grab her naked body from behind were foiled when she began to arise from her squatting posture, unaware I was there.

"I'm a klutz as well as a scatterbrain!" she said, squatted and crouching over me as I laid on my back on the carpet, hopefully to avoid a bloody nose. A couple breaks years ago in little league and lacrosse had toughened it up. The collision had technically been my fault and I wasn't really hurt, but I was milking this for a bit longer. She was huddled over me, her wonderful tits suspended from her torso in quivering, conical form, genitals banging around between her legs. Her hands had been caressing my chest and the sides of my face. They now moved lower, since my injury was not life-threatening.

"I better ensure your penis was not damaged," she said with a grin as we entered what seemed to be more familiar territory for her. On the phone once she had giddily mentioned, accidentally I think, a guy she dated that liked 'messy blowjobs' in the context of a drunken party story. I would certainly settle for 'neat blowjobs' if that was the way she liked it.

Familiar she was. In the angular silver patch of light cast on us from outside, I watched her gorgeous face alternate between smiling at me, licking and kissing my throbbing shaft, and then contorting with concave cheeks and those beautiful lips extended. It was like her lips were holding the blood in my dick hostage, refusing to let it leave. Once I was rock hard again, which did not take long, Pooja was crawling over me and straddling my hips with her black stocking- covered legs, reaching back to grasp my throbbing meat and impale herself.

"Trent I want you inside me again!" A reminder that was delivered with a broad, naughty smile that quickly turned into a grunting, raised-eyebrow, wide-eyed, gasping look of surprise. My dick must have felt thicker to her sore, sobered-up sphincter. She whimpered and moaned as I happily became reacquainted with the tight, slick, ring of muscle that she had apparently re-lubricated.

I wondered if Pooja selected this spot for our fuck because of the streetlight above us outside. It kept the area almost illuminated enough to read in. Even if just a happy coincidence, the next ten minutes or so were heaven as I watched her bounce up and down on my ecstatic cock, writhing and twisting her torso, whipping her hair around, sweating, groaning and grunting. Her jiggling dark nipples, when I pulled on them, were rock hard from the chills her colon must have been slamming through her. The Indian-descended beauty kept a hand on her partially expanded dick, cursorily stroking it, especially as she sped up her ride.

I forced Pooja's hand away from hiding her dick several times, and gradually she began to let it fly unrestricted. Her balls had loosened after her earlier orgasm, and were chaotically jolting around as well. I held her thighs or extended hands and forearms occasionally; at times it seemed we could not touch each other in enough places. Soon she was leaning back, adding a little extra hip thrust, forcing a more violent shock to her genitals, flailing them in my direction as her beautiful small tits slid up and down her ribcage, recoiling at each end of their short journey. .

As my girlfriend, it was official now, spastically rode up and down in the dim silver light among the muted colors of the shelved books, her dick began to lengthen , the brown shaft gaining rigidity at the base and leaving the portion nearest to me to bend and continue whipping around wildly. Its alluring, tornado-shaped foreskin began to yield to the smooth, lighter colored head emerging from inside it. Soon her gorgeous brown cock was straight, and began smacking one or the other of our stomachs every few strokes.

While most enjoyable, the dick-slapping show was short, however, as I ran out of resistance to the load burning within me. With all the sensations, her beautiful perspiring face, the jiggling breasts, the magnificent bouncing cock and balls, and of course Pooja grinding her tight, penis-strangling sphincter up and down my meat, I had no choice. In moments I was joyfully grunting and squirting plenty of fresh sperm deep into her to mix with my earlier deluge.

"Yes Trent! Fill me with boyfriend sperm!" she yelled joyfully to the ceiling, arching her back, brown erection wagging, her taut body, shiny with perspiration and her satisfied smile at me beautiful in the low light.

"Trent that was so...amazing," Pooja said, then grunted in pain as she stiffly rolled off me, trembling from fatigue. "Owwww! I will certainly feel this tomorrow. I'm looking forward to thinking of you every time I sit down for the next few days," she said, then giggled as she slowly stood. "Right now I would like a hot shower and to sleep naked with you in your bed. I already took tomorrow off, hoping we would be spending a special, impromptu first night together." She smiled down at me, pushing back the hair matted to her glistening face. It looked like the wildest night this bank building ever witnessed was ending.

"Not just special, this is the best night of my life, Miss Pooja!" I said, grinning and looking up at her. I was still flat on the floor, enjoying the view of, what else, her swinging, enlarged dick as she limped past me. "Love those ankles." I said in a poor attempt at camouflage.

"I know what you were really looking at, Mister Nosey!" she called across the room.

That was how we began.

6

After commuting between our two addresses for about a month, with Pooja missing rendezvous times and frequently forgetting things at one place or the other, it was easier if she just moved in with me. The trek to her job was shorter, and Dex and Sadie could be 'quite loud', while arguing or fucking, she reported.

So my neat, well-organized space at the condo was transformed nearly overnight into a replica of Pooja's bedroom in Silver Spring: Clothes, lingerie, shoes and purses strewn everywhere, makeup of all varieties on every surface, yielding only to empty smoothie cups and coffee mugs that sat atop stacks of her maxed-out credit card statements.

But I didn't care; I was in love, obsessed. All I wanted to do was be with her, even if we were just sitting in the living room reading silently. As long as I could touch her or look up and know she was there, I was okay.

Another ironic twist of events took place. Evan, after all his turmoil, decided to delay his transition. Once in his group sessions, he made lots of accepting friends, many more than possible in our Delaware hometown, and began to feel comfortable in his own skin, so to speak. Now a social butterfly, he wouldn't confess, because it was against the clinic rules, but I think he was dating George, the big biker guy that was the unofficial bouncer there. My brother was the happiest I had ever seen him, and gone most of the time, able to do his job as a website designer from anywhere there was internet.

So, Pooja and I were alone in the condo most days, which worked out nicely, because

the girl was not able to keep her horny brown asshole or famished red lips away from my dick, even when not on our usual date nights. Wake up before sunrise, blowjob from her. Sleep in on a rainy weekend morning, fuck Pooja. In the dark watching Netflix, blowjob from her. Bend her over the kitchen table after pancakes, butter her hole and fuck. Even some of the NFL playoff games had been supplemented by the top of my girlfriend's dark-haired head, bobbing up and down. It was nearly the same when we were out in the world. Pull over beside a snow-covered field on a country back road, blowjob from Pooja. Mega mall parking garage, Pooja wants a pre-shopping 'boyfriend' load to chase her mocha latte.

While cock-slurping attention from those gorgeous full lips was always incredible, my favorite oral assaults of hers were those where Pooja implicitly wanted reciprocation from me. They were usually late at night and always in near darkness, and when I was getting close to shooting. Too shy yet to announce verbally, the brunette would silently free her beautiful brown penis from her pants or skirt and leave it out to grow, jolt and dance in my line of sight as she maniacally sucked me. Then she would pivot her pelvis to my face. Watching that beautiful, uncircumcised cock, then getting to feel it in my mouth, and knowing I was going to be sucking it for the next fifteen to thirty minutes, made me cum that much harder, blasting Pooja's throat and sinuses.

My beautiful girlfriend, for all her sassy attitude, required a subtle approach to certain things. She could be quite pragmatic about sex, simply giving me an impromptu blowjob, then going back to the novel she was reading next to me on the couch, or walking in from work, kissing me hello and requesting I meet her in the bedroom in twenty minutes. 'Twenty minutes' is her code for giving herself an enema and quick shower so I can fuck her. Other times she's clingy and needy and I have to be gallant but firm, romantic but demanding. Things aren't dull, that's for sure.

One cold Sunday before sunrise we were under the covers, stirring a bit as I turned over. We were both naked, as Pooja had ridden my dick spastically just hours before, her stunning body writhing, breasts bouncing and the dark flesh of her penis wiggling and flailing wildly above her loosened, jolting scrotum as always. Now asleep, she spooned me from behind, and I felt her hard cock in my ass crack. I slid out of bed, pissed, and lubed my rectum. I got back under the blanket and resumed my previous position.

"Trent? What are you..." She then gasped as I held her meat by the base and guided it into my waiting anus.

It had been a while since I had stuffed any vegetables up there, but my hole was receptive and her erection slid in easily. It felt awesome, a stiff dick pushing my rectal walls aside for the first time. A grunt of protest morphed into a moan pleasure from behind me, as Pooja realized what I was doing, pumping my hips back and forth slowly.

I had tried before to get her to discuss fucking me, only to receive a change of subject or some other diversion tactic from her. We did a little dry humping like this once, but I didn't know how much longer I would be getting this first cock in my ass, so I savored every thrust.

To my surprise, instead of pushing me away, she began to meet my movements, then held my hip as she was buried balls deep, rolling us off our sides onto our stomachs until she was lying on top of me, penetrating me slowly. Her cock in my ass felt awesome, sliding in and out, her weight on me, hands caressing my arms as she kissed me with hot breath on my shoulder blades, which was as far as she could reach with her stiff meat implanted.

"Oh! This feels wonderful!" she said in her accent, beginning to pant, increasing her speed. "I love you so much," she moaned. We had been saying it back and forth for a couple weeks now; I had just blurted it out one morning over pancakes.

Her motions in my ass picked up speed and severity, and intestinal chills were coursing all over my lower half. Her cock felt great as she pumped harder.

The expression 'Be careful what you ask for' is certainly a true one. Over the next twenty minutes, still flat on my stomach, I had begun to question my decision to have her fuck me. She was really getting into it, changing angles, using every surface inside me to get herself off, shifting her weight around to stretch her back, hands digging into my ribs and arms for balance. We had ejected the blankets and I was sweating profusely. My anus felt raw and burning as she pounded away, frequently moaning about how good it felt. I was about to beg her to stop and let me jerk her off the rest of the way, when she finally gripped my arms and rhythmically wailed with pleasure, squirting her fluid into my colon.

Pooja collapsed on top of me, and we both were breathing heavily like gorillas for several minutes, until the intimacy of our overheated bodies segued into moist, clammy discomfort. We showered together, and despite my throbbing hole, went to an all night diner for a big breakfast as the sun appeared in full behind the distant Washington Monument.

That was the week before Valentine's Day, and Pooja didn't forget.

7

It's now a hot, almost miserable summer. Beautiful Pooja and I remain together. The sex is still awesome and frequent, and the ratio of my orgasms to hers has evened up a slightly, and may be about four to one now. Her cravings still run strong, and who am I to deny a girl a stiff cock when she wants one? She lives here officially, and yes, there's stuff all over. I'm getting used to her impulsive, random access mind. Sure, we argue once in a while, which usually results in Pooja pouting and beginning to cry, and ultimately getting her way.

Evan has moved in with some friends and, for now, is apparently satisfied with living as himself and crossdressing when he gets the urge for clubbing and sex, he confided.

Sometimes I awaken in the middle of the night, wondering, as everyone in all types of relationships does, if I'm doing the right thing. In the uncertainty of the solitary darkness, I panic slightly. Then I remember that Pooja spent hours on line looking for a rare vinyl LP I had been seeking as a gift, and how she makes me howl with laughter as she curses at everyone on the television, and how she makes me feel like her hero. We both seem to believe we were lovers in a past life, torn apart tragically and now reunited. And of course I think of the thrill of just watching her walk into the room, especially as the temperature has risen.

In private, Pooja has overcome her shyness quite a bit, and wears very little around the condo, even in daylight. I'm treated to many different teasing outfits: Lacy, sheer panties, or thin, shiny, clingy shorts that maintain a nice silhouette of her dick, or wide, loose running shorts worn commando that are constantly on the verge of revealing her genitals; all of which allow a chaotic jiggle as she moves. There are a couple pairs of sheer yoga shorts that are meant to be worn with panties, but aren't. Her tops are an assortment of thin, tight tee and tank shirts that yield easily to her nipples and have yet to see bra beneath them, much to my delight. We have plans for a vacation at an LGBT- friendly resort, and she is in the midst of online shopping for bikinis. Some are only made of netting or turn transparent when wet. This should be interesting.