Monique by ShyBoy I am a 29-year-old, healthy, American male. To look at me, one would not suspect the sexual peculiarity that lies within. In fact, in all my experience of cruising the Internet, or entering chat groups, or reading adult literature, I have never heard of another who shares my particular interest: I don't do straight sex; I love oral sex. I have been asked, of course, why this is (or as one girl put it: "What's your problem?"). No doubt there is some Freudian puzzle to it all, but I suppose all I can say is: "It's the way I feel". Yes, I've had regular intercourse before and, yes, I did find it pleasurable. But my phobia, if you will, that has grown in my later years is: What if I got her pregnant? I know that letting this phobia get to me is irrational and crazy and birth-control is 99%, and blah blah blah. Just the same, I have voluntarily eliminated the missionary position in my sex life, and I haven't looked back. As you can imagine, it is difficult finding a girlfriend given the particular "constraint" I bring to the relationship. Check that. It is *damn* difficult finding a girlfriend when you're a guy like me. You see, it's not just the kind of sex I want, or the amount I want (lots), a big factor is that I don't feel particularly comfortable talking about it! Being online is one thing, but in real-life, how does one cozy up to the statement: "I want you to suck me today, tomorrow and the next day, but no intercourse!"? I mean, I'm not uncultured; these are sweet girls I go out with and for some of them straight sex (regardless of oral) is nasty enough. Ever since I realized what I wanted in my sex life, my social life went right down the tubes. I don't even mean that it was neutral or a little bad--it was horrific! Some girls were outright offended at my choice! Overall, the general impression I must have been giving out was that I didn't want them for love, but to use them as a sex toy. Of course, that's unfair, but now that you mention it... If you know anything about being online, you can imagine that it wasn't too difficult getting involved with the B/D scene. (As an aside, you might be surprised at the number of beautiful and classy women who are into bondage. When I walk down the street these days, I sometimes get a gut feel about a woman and think, "Oh, she could be...".) For a while, things worked out just fine. I would tell my slave what I wanted and as simple as that she would do it! I admit that as shy as I am in many ways, I loved being Master. (Four in the morning, feeling horny, "Slave, suck my cock!" and boom--instant heaven!) Also, subs can be *extremely* passionate--just the kissing and caressing would melt me. Of course, I loved that too. Just the same, there were two problems that came up: First, slaves like to be spanked and even whipped. What self-respecting Master would admit to not wanting the opportunity to change an ass color from ivory to crimson? But there you have it--it wasn't my thing. In my experience, I didn't come across one sub who didn't want a beating. Second, slaves like to get some, too! At first the pussy deprivation would be "thrilling", but despite dildoes, vibrators, hands, mouth and toys, the realization that she was not getting my cock in there eventually took its toll. I mean, one time I had a girl virtually screaming for me to put it in, but I was so pleased with my new life style, that I just said no. In my mind, that was the key reason why we drifted apart. And then came Monique. True to her name, she is from France. While I'd prefer not to mention town names, she lives about 30 miles from Paris. The way I met her was, in my opinion, delightfully innocent. It was the summer of '92 and a coworker of mine told me he and his family were hosting a college exchange student from Paris, and would I be willing to play tour guide for a Saturday? I may have been picked for my personality, but it probably didn't hurt that I use to live in D.C. for about nine years and knew the sights cold. That Saturday, around noon, I met Monique for the first time. As I drove up, she was talking with Sandy (my coworker's daughter) on the front lawn. Sandy waved and went inside, I suppose for a pocketbook . When Monique turned to face me, I had to smile to myself: Today's "work" was not going to be work! She was slender and cute and had a darling smile. Her hair, which was dark and shoulder length, was just beautiful and I suppose it was inevitable that I should--even before shaking her hand--wonder what it would be like to run my fingers through that hair. She wore blue jeans, which while comfortable I'm sure, hugged her curves very, very nicely. She wore a 2" leather belt that really accentuated her waist, and drew my attention to her taut stomach. Her top was also form-fitting: a multi-colored spandex short-sleeve with a little scoop "V" in the front. Because of the elasticity, it did nothing to hide the incredibly sensuous curves of her breasts, which I would say were "mid" in size and perfect in shape. A definite knockout, and I suppose the only reason it was easy to keep my cool was that I immediately assumed she must have a steady somewhere in her life. We made some small talk, but I can't remember what we said. I remember looking at her eyes, which were warm and sensual. Sandy returned and before long our afternoon of sight-seeing had begun. Other than being with Monique, and on a couple of occasions having our arms brush while we walked or stepped into a paddle boat, the day was uneventful. What can I say? I've seen all these monuments a hundred times! Why should 101 be any different? But Monique loved it--This was why she came to America. Sandy, whom I didn't know that well, proved to be not much of a talker, and even a little bit of a drag on the afternoon's activities. The consolation from this was that as I dropped the girls off I offered to show Monique some of the sights we missed at night. Monique accepted although she already had dinner plans with her host family for the evening. So Sunday evening it would be. Naturally, I couldn't get her out of my mind. I fantasized about kissing her face and her neck while squeezing her ass, and then helping her down onto her knees in front of me. Her beautiful brown eyes would stare into mine as she would coolly undo my trousers and lower them with my underwear. Then she'd purr with delight at taking my cock into her mouth and thrusting it down her throat. In French (which, coincidentally, I can understand rather well) she would say things like, "I could suck on your cock all day long". Yes, the thought of fucking that mouth absolutely drove me nuts! But there's this funny thing in life called "reality" and so the planning I did for our evening get together was of a rather wholesome nature. When I picked her up on Sunday, the wholesome part of me was soon going down for the count. She looked incredible! Her attitude suggested that this was not extravagant for her: a black leather miniskirt, a 3" black leather belt with a gold buckle (and pearl ornaments on the buckle), a maroon short-sleeve blouse, numerous thin gold-ring bracelets and a stylish pearl necklace. Her hose must have been expensive because her legs looked smashing. In what I thought was an interesting maneuver, she wore low pumps when leaving the house and changed to 4" heels when in the car. Finally, her make up, which while light, was exquisite. Her lips, red and full, seemed to pout for being kissed. It was a wonderful date, and surprisingly, was dictated by her. She wanted to visit a friend of hers, another exchange student who was staying about 15 miles away. As we drove, I finally got a chance to ask some of the more personal questions, and lo and behold she was not dating anyone. Her last boyfriend from eight months ago had apparently really broken her heart. She absolutely flattered me with her reaction to the news that I was not seeing anyone. "Pas toi? Not you?", she exclaimed with wide eyes. She asked why and I found some way to dodge the question figuring I'd drop that bomb, if I had to, at a more appropriate time. When we arrived at the house where her friend Julienne was staying, Julienne greeted her entirely in French: "Monique, you have a boyfriend already!" Neither girl knew that I understood what was being said and like the caddy American I was, I wore a facade of ignorance. It was difficult, however, to keep any calm look when Monique replied (also in French), "No, no, I only wish it!" And then Monique goes on to explain how nice I have been and how I'm taking her to sightsee tonight and later on to dance. They talked in the living room for a while, and I sat next to Monique on the couch. Now and then, she'd feed me some tidbit in English so I wouldn't feel left out of the conversation. I really couldn't keep it up though, so at one point when Julienne said, "Well, you are with a very handsome man tonight," I replied in my best French: "That is very kind of you to say." We all burst out laughing and Monique started hitting me with a sofa pillow. At last we left, continued sightseeing from the day before, and before long had settled into a booth at one of those nice night clubs where you don't have to shout to be heard. We talked and danced and drank and really had a great time getting to know each other. As the place was starting to close down around 1:00 am, we had our fourth slow dance of the evening, but this time, I couldn't help myself. Tilting my head a little, I kissed her on the lips, and a rush went through my body as she returned the kiss. When the dance was over, I could only smile, take her by the hand, and walk back to our booth. Oh, it was so wrong! How could I do this to this adorable girl? Of course, she was picturing more than giving me blow jobs all the time, and that's if she gave them at all. Still, I couldn't help but kiss that beautiful girl some more. Later though, in the car, she saw me sober up. "What is it?" she asked gently, realizing, I think, that she was about to hear why I wasn't seeing anybody. And I told her. God, it was difficult, but I told her. It can be embarrassing to share a part of your life that you don't fully understand yourself. But I did it. I told her that straight sex (because of a translation problem, I had to explain it to her as "vaginal sex") was too troubling for me and I only wanted "other stimulation". Realizing that I had just shared something very personal to me, she softly stroked my cheek with the back of her hand and moved in closer than she already was. We had parked in a far corner of an enclosed lot, so there wasn't enough lighting to clearly see her facial reaction. But I definitely could hear her, and after making a few "tsk tsk" sounds, she said (in English), "Silly boy...silly boy". Then casually and lovingly, her soft hands descended on my pants, first undoing my belt, and then slowly pulling my zipper down. I was clearly affected and gulped hard, to which she giggled a little and kissed me on the cheek. I had to lift my ass up for a moment when she pulled my trousers down, leaving me in my underwear. She caressed my balls through the cotton briefs and rolled her fingers over the exposed part of my penis that the briefs couldn't contain. I remember saying something stupid like, "But I'm going to want this all the time," which I thought would make me sound sexy. But Monique could save me from anything and she kissed me and purred, "Mmm". She lowered her head toward my crotch gradually, and then with one gesture she grabbed the front of my underwear and pulled toward my ankles. Instinctively, I raised my ass and freed my cock. As I mentioned before, it was dark, and for a few moments her head hovered about six inches above my cock. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it until I felt a strand of warm spittle gently rest itself on the head of my cock and continue down the shaft to my balls. It was then that her mouth and tongue followed, finding the spittle that was there and spreading it around with kisses and licks. Oh, it was heaven! She had to handle my cock with her hand to make sure she could get to all sides, but she was careful not to stroke me, lest I come prematurely. The sounds from her were delightful, 'mmm's and 'ah's when kissing and licking. Just those sexy sounds alone could've made me come, but she had other plans. While gently holding my cock in her fist, she leaned back and stuck her tongue in my ear. "Oh, God, Monique," I mumbled in ecstasy. Then she whispered in my ear: "You say I have to do this to you every day? Do you promise?" My head eased back and I breathed, "Oh, God"! She was playing me masterfully. Again she lowered her head to my crotch, but this time she went right for the source. Kissing the head of my cock, she let it push through her lips and enter her mouth. At this my head swooned and I gasped an "Oh". She sucked on the head for a brief moment and then continued down some more. I could feel the pressure of her lips at the base of my cock. And, expertly, she increased the pressure in her mouth. Pulling back, she went as far as my cock head, but didn't let it leave her mouth. Down she went again, this time a smooth deep throat. She repeated her oral caresses and in a couple of minutes, I was very close to the edge. "I'm going to come," I moaned. Her hand cupped my balls gently and softly giggled them, as if to encourage a maximum ejaculation. Then, on one of her glorious downward strokes, it happened. I began to orgasm. Her head continued its up/down movements for a few moments, without releasing the pressure on my cock. As I asked her to slow up, she began swallowing as best she could. After my cock left her mouth, she continued to give it attention, licking the shaft and head for any cum she missed. It was an incredible blow job, and by the time I dropped her off at the house, I was still recouping from it. In a daze, I waved good night, leaving her to explain why I returned her several hours late. The next morning, I have to admit, it seemed like a dream. It wasn't a dream, I knew, but I mean that we had been drinking and things had gotten crazy very quickly. In short, I was concerned that Monique had woken up thinking, "What a mistake!" That morning, around 10:00 am, she called me! Without so much as a word about last night, she said that so-and-so was giving a speech at the University around 1:00 pm and would I take her? Of course! I had already called my boss on the weekend to ask for Monday off, so the day was clear. When I picked Monique up at 12:30, she got in and, ironically, said the words that I had feared: "I made a mistake." But she continued: "The talk is not until three, but I'm glad you came early because there are other things to do." "Oh, what other things?" I asked, thinking there was some sightseeing she hadn't told me about. "Take me to that park," she said, and I knew the one she meant because I had mentioned it in conversation the day before. As we talked, I became very relieved that she did not have regrets about last night. I sensed she didn't want to talk about it right then, and I had no problem with that. When we arrived at the park, we drove down the forest path to find that the lot was virtually empty. She guided me to park in a secluded corner. My heartbeat started to pick up. After I stopped the car, she moved in to my chest and kissed me. She tugged my shirt up out of my pants and rolled it to my neck. She began tonguing and kissing my nipples, first one for a few moments, and then the other. "My god, Monique, you're incredible," was all I could say. Soon she had my belt unbuckled and my pants and underwear off. She made some comment about my briefs being an inconvenience and asked that I not wear them anymore. I nodded mechanically, awe struck by this woman. Then the sucking began. There wasn't a lot of oral foreplay this time; she went straight to deep throat. There was variation though. She would suck and then lick and then kiss making sure that no pattern was set. She had a fantastic ability to know when I was getting close, and would invariably change the technique or the intensity if she thought I was about to come. I happen to have a clock on my dashboard, and after a while I noticed that she had been going at it for fifteen minutes. For whatever reason, I made a comment letting her know. She looked up, saw the clock, and said: "We can stop at two". At two! It was 1:15! She was going to suck my cock for 45 more minutes! I just sat back and let her take me to heaven. And I was in heaven. At times I got very close because she is an extraordinary fellatrix. She knew how to calm me down though, and all that came out was precum. If she thought I was too close, she'd release my cock and just suck on my balls. After a few minutes, she'd work back up to deep throating me again. We both knew when 2:00 was at hand, so pushing her hair behind her ears, she began to prepare for a large load. I didn't even say a word. She knew it was time, so I just closed my eyes and when I was ready, I gushed. A few moments later, after I opened my eyes, she was licking the shaft and parts of my lower belly to get all the come that had snuck out while she was trying to swallow. The adventures of Monique and myself continued for the next two months. We tried for a while to make sure she swallowed some of my come on every day of her visit, but scheduling didn't permit it and we probably missed about five days total. Still, there were other days when I came five or six times down her throat. Of course, she became very adept at maneuvering around in my car, but otherwise, we rented hotel rooms, or found secluded wooded areas. I was beginning to fall in love with her, I think, but as her visit was winding down, I began to suspect that she yearned for a cock to go you-know-where. I asked her about it and she said no, she enjoyed the "rule" I had set up. But there were certain vibes I got, and signs I saw that made me think my theory was not off-the-wall. On the day she left, my coworker and his family said their goodbyes early to Monique at the airport. That way, I could be the last to see her off. The moment they were out of sight, she took me by the hand and started walking me through the airport, looking for a "special place". It was incredible: she was looking to give me a final blow job in the airport! Before I tell you what happened, let me just say that it is a fascinating experience in itself walking through an airport scouting out places to receive a blow job! Believe it or not, we found a place in about fifteen minutes. My back was up against a wall as Monique kneeled before me in our now familiar positions. While I was a little nervous and had to suppress the sounds of ecstasy I was used to making, I came one final time in my lovely Monique's mouth. She zipped me up and stood before me without saying a word. Then, looking me in the eyes lovingly, she slowly parted her lips and opened her mouth. She hadn't swallowed yet. Looking as if she were on the verge of orgasm, her tongue rolled my cum around in her mouth while she breathed sensually. Finally, she reverently closed her lips and closed her eyes, and swallowed. Within two hours from that moment in paradise, Monique was on her way home. Of course, we both said we'd stay in touch, but within four months I learned she was living with the boyfriend who had broken her heart the year before. I really didn't understand this since she never once had a kind word to say about him when she shared with me. Life rolls on, of course. There is little to confess about my social life since then; it hardly merits attention. Monique was special, and if a little deviant, I thank my lucky stars that it was with me.