My latest lover and I had been dating for several weeks. James was fun, handsome, smart and sensitive. Really, everything a woman could want in a boyfriend. And yes, he was a great lay, too. Our dates reliably ended with the two of us hopping into bed together. I loved the feel of his body, loved how he wasn’t just into sex for his own immediate needs. He always made sure I got my share of orgasmic fulfillment.

I liked to think I was fun, too. Actually, I was sure of it. I was no prude. Every position was on the table when we got together — including him once literally fucking me on my kitchen table. We’d done it standing, sitting, front, back and sideways.

But there was one thing we hadn’t done — I hadn’t done. I had never gone down on James, never sucked him off, never blown him. My mouth had not once come into contact with the rampant cock I so enjoyed reaming out my holes from every direction.

We had never talked about that particular absence from our menu of sexual activities. Certainly James had never bluntly asked me why I didn’t suck his dick. He was too tactful for that.

The dearth of cocksucking was made even more glaring by the fact that he went down on me as often as possible. He had a real taste for pussy. The moans and slurping sounds he made when his face was planted between my thighs told me how much he enjoyed munching my box. I’d come on his face more times than I could count.

So, what was my problem — if it could even be called a problem? It wasn’t that I’d never sucked cock before. I had, and it had been a very special act to me. Maybe too special. It all had to do with Samuel.

Samuel was my baggage. He’d been the first serious serious boyfriend I’d had. We’d been way into each other, and the relationship had been very heavy. The details of our breakup don’t really matter, and I wasn’t dragging around a broken heart with me. But oral sex and Samuel were still closely associated in my mind and spirit. Before him, I’d always been a little leery about sucking cock. Again, I wasn’t prudish, but the act always seemed so delicate to me, even perilous. I knew some guys had similar misgivings about eating pussy. The act was too much of a mystery for them, and they were desperately afraid of doing it wrong.

With Samuel, however, everything somehow fell into place. I vividly remember the first time I tentatively took his cock in my mouth. He instantly gasped with pleasure. I ran my tongue over his cockhead and felt him shiver. I thought I might have done something to make him uncomfortable, but he relieved me of that worry when he told me, “That feels so fucking good, Kylie.”

Emboldened, I licked his knob some more. Then I wrapped my lips around him and started sliding my mouth down his shaft. He groaned encouragements to me with every inch I consumed. I grew more and more confident.

When my gag reflex kicked in, he brought a gentle hand to my cheek, which was flattened in around his staff. He said, “Just pause, get used to it and let yourself adjust.” It worked. I sucked him down to his base. I was deep-throating him!

After that, blowjobs were very much in the sexual rotation. I bobbed on his rod like a pro. I fearlessly drank his jizz when he shot off in my mouth. He continued to encourage me verbally. I liked when he got obscene about it and told him so, until finally he was saying things like “Yeah, you suck me hard and swallow the load I’m going to give you!”

With Samuel, I perfected the act. I could think I was the world’s best cocksucker when we were together. That made it special, a unique experience in my life.

Now, I somehow felt shy about doing it with James. I felt stupid about my hang-up. But like any person, I can’t always shape my emotional responses.

Even so, I was feeling a growing determination to set things right. After all, I genuinely wanted to suck James’ cock, and I suspected he would seriously welcome the oral attention as well.

The next time James and I went out for a nice dinner, I picked at my food, even as I tried to keep up my half of the conversation. He seemed to sense my anxiety, but he maintained a cheerful demeanor.

As usual, we went back home together, this time to my apartment. We made tea, ignored the tea, started making out on the couch and moved quickly to the bedroom.

We undressed, and as always, I was thrilled by the sight of his toned, naked body. His cock was swiftly rising as his gaze roamed over my own bare flesh. We climbed onto my bed, and anticipation fueled my lust.

Lying side by side, I took his fully hard cock in my hand and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Babe,” I said in a breathy voice. “I want to suck you off tonight.”

A happy grin lit his handsome face, but before he replied, I delivered the backstory to explain why I hadn’t blown him before. As I’d figured, he wasn’t jealous about Samuel. (Being jealous about your lover’s exes is as stupid as it gets, in my view.) James listened, nodded and said, “OK. I get it. But, Kylie, if you still don’t want to, then don’t. It’s fine.”

That is how cool my boyfriend is: He was willing to forego getting his cock sucked if it meant I would feel better.

I was still holding his rod, feeling the lovely throb of him. A dewy drop of pre-come had oozed out onto the tip of his cockhead. I was hungry for it. Bending over, I flicked my tongue and collected the salty drop. He released a hard grunt of pleasure.

I moved down between his legs, laying myself in the enclosing cradle of his firm thighs. I remembered the position, remembered how it had felt to lie like this with Samuel. But Samuel wasn’t there, and I didn’t want him there.

There was James’ cock, such a familiar piece of his anatomy to me. But I beheld it anew, up close and personal. I settled my palm softly around his balls and held him at his base with my fingers. I could see all the squiggling veins lining his shaft.

His legs settled around my shoulders. I moved my head up. My eyes flicked upward, and I saw James looking down at me. His face was flushed, and he was squirming with excitement. He was obviously eager for my mouth — but still, I was sure, ready to give me a free pass if I chose to back off.

But I had no intention of quitting. I unfurled my tongue and brought it to his beautiful rounded knob. I tasted a fresh drizzle of pre-come. But more so, I really felt the incredible smooth texture of his flesh, like nothing else in the world.

My tongue swirled around his crown, causing muscles to jump in his thighs and a low moan to rise in his throat. When his rod was gleaming with my spit, I sealed my lips around him. My teeth were carefully tucked back, and I drew a breath in through my nose. Then I started my way downward. His cock spread my lips into a succulent “O” shape. My tongue continued to work him. I explored the veins of his erection. My tongue tip danced on his staff. A quarter inch at a time I sucked him, down and down.

His moans turned into growls. They were happy sounds, but also animal-like. I knew how wild I got when he went down on me. It turned me into something primal. I squealed and writhed, sometimes grabbed his hair, sometimes called out obscenities. James had told me how much he’d liked that.

I was past the halfway point. His cockhead was at the back of my tongue. Steeling myself once again, I swallowed even more of him. My throat tried to close. I felt two fast heartbeats of panic. But taking more slow breaths through my nose, I finally advanced farther. I reminded myself how much I wanted this.

Beneath the vaguely soapy scent of good hygiene lurked his primal male flavor. It filled my mouth. It made my senses swim. I was keenly aware of his taste and smell and the continuous sounds he made, the grunts and soft snarls.

I realized I’d sucked him all the way down only when I butted his body with my nose. His cockhead was in my throat, but I held him there without discomfort. I had the whole throbbing length of him in me, and his balls stirred under my palm.

I grinned inwardly — because it wasn’t the time to grin outwardly — and set my shoulders, flexed my neck muscles and earnestly set off on my mission.

Up came my head, with the ring of my lips staying sealed around him until I was just cinching his knob. Then I plunged down again, taking him all the way once more. The remembered rhythm was right there, recorded in my muscle memory.

The thrill of success sent tingles all through me. My nipples were hard, brushing against the bed’s comforter. My cunt had gone slick. I pressed my pussy against the mattress, quietly humping it while I bobbed on my boyfriend’s cock.

I picked up speed, and he responded as I’d hoped. He trembled and grunted with his pleasure. Even better, a few stray obscenities slipped past his lips as he encouraged me to blow him. I wanted to hear him say more dirty things, but I couldn’t tell him because my mouth was obviously already occupied.

So I simply sucked him harder and faster. The message got through.

“Yeah!” he cried out. “Suck my cock, Kylie! Suck it!”

I went for broke. I opened my eyes and saw his handsome face was etched with ecstasy. He was teetering right on the edge. I plunged down, and he shrieked, “Eat my come!”

That was music to my ears. His cream blasted across my tongue, and I swallowed every drop.