Acceptance

She already had experiences.

Loved the pleasure she had in giving it, but thought it was how it was meant to be: she was taught a woman pleases her man.

She found it easy, even more than the girls at the office or in her circle of friends talked of. She wondered how they could complain of their boyfriends being too much into them, or specifically their blouses or skirt.

She didn't think of it like it was that bad, and she felt a bit guilty.

She did feel guilty when her boyfriend asked for some more than kisses and hugs and groping and tried to say no sometimes, just to spice it up. He did undestand it when she surrendered after a while, or when he got angry. She didn't want him to be, and she didn't mind apologizing.

She found exciting when he got behind her while washing dishes and grabbed her by her waist, or on the cleavage. He knew it.

Sometimes it didn't last.

She didn't remember last time she broke up with her boyfriend. She always knew it was some tiny hidden detail that grew up to the breakup.

She didn't find it difficult to find another man, even if it was for a short time. Every one of them gave her something, sometimes as a teaching.

She learned that her hips, she always thought were way too big and noticeable, were pleasurable. Not only for cat calling.

First time she welcomed her boyfriend there it didn't ache as they said. It did, but she relaxed and enjoyed the deep sensation of the warm pulse against her spine. She felt it more than she was used to. Maybe it was the novelty, maybe not. He was good though, and used the lube she used for her own pleasing.

She learned how her breasts were not only a signal for men's eyes, but the way to use them for pleasure.

She already knew of girls, both from herself and some of her friends she explored with.

It was not easier or harder, just really, really different.

First time she had both was when the friend she was playing with received an unannounced visit from her boyfriend. Again, she was feeling guilty: but her friend apologized to him and she felt compelled to follow.

He accepted their apologies with pleasure, as they gave them. She learned what he did like and what her friend did like of him.

She didn't mind when someone called her names in private, she knew that they meant pleasure for them. She found them exciting too: being one's private slut, whore, cumdump, cocksucker, ball licker, or whatever. Something they wouldn't tell out, a dirty little secret.

But she came to understand about that.

Yes, girls talked about boyfriends' tastes and needs and dirty things. They explored them together in private. But it was not the same for her.

It was some break time from a dull reality made of job, chores, sometimes babies, family. They talked of it when it became a nuisance or something that helped break the routine, or both. For her, it was a constant thought in the back of her mind.

She had a quiet job, a distant family, no babies, few chores in a small apartment.

What she enjoyed was good food, and good sex. It could be a romantic evening ending up like in a movie, or a wild merry-go-round from a club to the nearest alley, parking, or hotel.

She did not like it, she craved for it. She was really a slut. Deep in her heart.

Once she accepted it, she felt free.

Yes, you could not say it in the open, but you knew it.

You not only didn't mind it, you enjoyed it.

Not the girl hiding from their desires or trying not to get know in the neighborhood. The woman knowing the neighborhood knew.

Someone has to do it. Someone is it.

She was the one they could ask to explore new ways to pleasure, as she did enjoy it. Not just like the girl next door, or the one they married.

She only did wanted full earnestness: not telling their significant ones was a no go.

It made a huge difference with partners, even when they were just for a while.

Of course there were exceptions: one night stands were good, but there would be not a second one. Sometimes she couldn't simply say no, like the two bosses at the office who tag-teamed her. She already knew she loved more than a partner at once, enhanching the pleasure more than the sheer number: but she learned to enjoy the audience too: seeing a man growing to.

She ended up without a boyfriend, and with a lot of willful and playful partners.

She didn't have a free night anymore, and she was happy with it.