While at work, I daydreamed about Justin’s mouth. My fantasies delivered a constant background buzz of sexual pleasure that kept my flesh tingling, my pussy humming and my body longing for his lips and tongue. Little did I know, my evening would go bottoms up — in the best kind of way.

The workday hadn’t been any longer than any of the others, but it had felt like an eternity. It was a soft kind of torture to wait to see my new lover. Our relationship was still sparkling fresh. Every touch felt like a novel venture, even as we learned one another’s rhythms.

Sex can be like jazz — when it’s good — full of seemingly chaotic tempos and wild improvisations, which come together in a satisfying way.

It wasn’t simply that Justin ate pussy like a champ. He was proficient in all the other sexual disciplines as well. He could’ve taught a course in technique. I loved the feel of his cock inside me. I liked how flexible and imaginative he was. But he was sweet and empathetic, too. I knew I was still, to some extent, seeing him through the glaze of initial attraction. It was too soon to say if we were in love, but certainly the physical allure was commandingly present.

Still, a special shout-out had to go to Justin’s mouth.

After a long day, all of my hours of expectation seemed about to pay off. I’d invited Justin over, and we were in my bedroom. I lay back, the soft bedding cradling me. My head sank into the feathered pillow. My stiff nipples tingled; they were like marked points on a map, part of the route Justin had taken down along the topography of my body. There he’d paused to lick, suck and nibble, and I still felt the aftereffects. His invisible stubble had tenderly abraded my flesh, adding to all of the wonderful stimulation.

My belly was still softly stamped with the impression of his lips as he’d slowly kissed a trail downward. His tongue tip playfully flicked in and out of my navel, and I squealed with delight. I eagerly opened my legs and finally welcomed him between them. My inner thighs rubbed along his strong shoulders, and I rocked my hips, impatiently waiting for his mouth to reach my honey-drenched cleft.

At last, his hot breath brushed my crotch. A thrill rippled through me. The bedroom felt like a faraway place in the clouds — a heavenly site where only ecstasy was allowed. I tightened my legs a little as he settled into place, my knees pushing in on his flanks.

I watched him hunkered down there, his hands moving beneath me and cupping my ass. That was his technique, so he could adjust me as he saw fit and give himself the best angle to lap at my pussy. I felt his warm breath again, and I shivered. My impatience was mounting, but in a lovely, thrilling way. Need burned in me. I desperately craved the masterful touch of his tongue. Upon that first delightful contact, a ragged cry spilled from my lips. My response was as much from the bliss I’d instantly experienced as it was from my anticipation of the joy yet to come.

His tongue tip traced an oval route, circling my lips. He skimmed along my folds, and delicious tremors shook me, ones so deep inside they didn’t even move my body on the bed. But the energy quaked within, and pleasure trickled over me, like the first sprinklings out of a cracking dam.

I released a long, leisurely sigh as he reversed his route and licked me counterclockwise. But this time, he allowed his tongue to slip deeper. I knew there was time to enjoy it all, to luxuriate in his oral attention. Justin wasn’t just skilled; he was patient and thorough. It was obvious he liked this particular sex act and had, over time, perfected his art. So I allowed myself to be swallowed up by the engulfing lavishness of my lover’s cunnilingual care. A slow molten joy began to gather in the pit of my being. I trusted Justin would draw it unhurriedly to the surface. I anticipated a wondrous orgasmic reward.

His tongue entered me, and my eyes drifted closed. Dark red shapes rollicked and frolicked on the backs of my lids. Pleasure swam more forcefully up my body, prompting me to cup my breasts in my hands and squeeze. Justin had told me he liked it when I did this, so I threw myself into it, groping my tits with gusto and tweaking each of my nipples in turn.

Justin’s tongue retreated, but he was by no means done. With his usual accuracy, he zeroed in on my clit. The needy bud was practically pulsing. His tongue touched it, and the burst of pleasure sent my senses soaring, coming down once more into his hands, which continued to cradle my ass. But as he lapped at my clitoris, one of his fingers strayed out of alignment and, without warning, grazed my asshole.

I froze, thinking the digit was misplaced. I squirmed ever so slightly. But his fingertip stubbornly remained resting against my ring. It wasn’t a touch that I was familiar with. Justin certainly had never caressed me there before. In fact, nobody ever had. I’d never allowed it. My asshole wasn’t in play. It just wasn’t something on my agenda and never had been.

But I was still just lying there, waiting for the mistake to correct itself. The finger did move, but only to make a soft circling motion, much like Justin’s tongue had done only a moment ago around my pussy lips.

“What are you doing?” I asked in a stonier voice than I’d intended.

Now it was his turn to freeze. He went still, with his tongue resting on my love nub. Slowly, he lifted his face. At the same time, he withdrew his finger.

“Sorry,” he said, “I thought you might like it.”

His words drifted away, and I felt new tension in the room. That was something else about a new relationship: You just didn’t know each other well enough to guess how the other might react about everything. Nothing between us was firmly established at that point. I wondered if I’d just fucked everything up, and I realized he probably thought the same.

I tried to remedy the situation and quickly added, “Look, I just don’t let anybody play with, uh, my butt.”

“I should’ve asked. That was stupid of me.” He sounded utterly sincere. It was, surely, the best possible response from him. But it also felt like the moment had been spoiled. A numbness was in the air, where a moment ago sexual energy had crackled.

Once more I went to try to fix things. But I also saw this as an opportunity and asked, “Why exactly would you want to play with my ass?”

He sat all the way up. In the soft light, his handsome face glistened with my juices, and his expression was earnest. In a straightforward way, he explained, “Anal play can be very enjoyable. It’s an anatomical fact that pleasure nerves are there. There are lots of ways to stimulate them.” He smiled sheepishly. “That’s clinical as hell, isn’t it? For me, I like the intimacy. That a woman would trust me to touch her there.”

I had sat up, too. Curiosity had taken hold, and also some strange kind of arousal I didn’t recognize.

“So you’ve fucked a woman up the ass, then?” I asked.

“Yes. Women. Multiple. But I still should’ve asked before I touched you there. I’m sorry.”

I waved that away, like we were already past it. That weird new urgency was still building in me. Intrigued, I asked, “What else do you do to a woman’s asshole?”

“Huh?”

The words leapt out of me: “Do you lick it?”

“Rimming? Hell yeah.”

The new excitement that had sparked within me soon became a blazing need.

“Then lick me!” I exclaimed.

After that, I was lying facedown on my bed, and Justin’s fingers were gently parting my ass cheeks. I felt his hot breath once more, this time — incredibly — right on my virgin asshole. I had no idea what was driving me toward this act. It felt like something primal, a deep instinct, like a need I’d never admitted to myself. Maybe I just hadn’t had an inkling I’d like it so much.

When Justin touched me with his tongue in that extremely intimate spot, I cried out with raw joy. The sensation was such an extreme pleasure that I wanted to bray with laughter over my earlier reluctance. He was showing me a whole new avenue to bliss.

His tongue delved into me without hesitation. He heard my cries, and his tongue wormed its way inside. With every intruding millimeter, new elation awoke in me. The tendrils radiated through me. I planted my elbows on the bed and shoved myself halfway up onto my knees. I wanted him to tongue me as deeply as possible.

Justin didn’t disappoint. He was as good with my ass as he was with my pussy. In fact, there seemed to be a direct line of communication between the two. My clit was still buzzing crazily and my cleft dripped, and as Justin dipped in and out of my asshole, my whole being thundered, and a subtle climax shook me.

I didn’t collapse afterward. I pushed up onto my hands and knees. I looked back over my shoulder at my hard-working lover, and I demanded, “Put your fucking cock in my ass!”

But even under those encouraging circumstances, Justin was thoughtful, even gentle. He set his cockhead to my spit-wet asshole and slowly, incrementally, slipped it inside. He gave me every chance to accommodate him. His size did give me pause a couple times as his formidable rod found its way, but the pleasure was bigger than any discomfort.

Soon, there was only the pleasure, hot and roaring. He stroked steadily into me. I took all of him, shouting at him to go harder and faster. He obliged. As he picked up the pace, his balls spanked my slit. His cock rocketed in and out of my back channel, and I was wild with lust.

My next climax thoroughly rocked me. It was so insanely intense I thought nothing could top it. Nothing, that is, until I felt Justin’s jets of jizz shooting inside me. He forever changed my views of anal sex, and I’ll always be thankful that he got to the bottom of my untapped desires.