the colorful voodoo

He, Alexander the delish, as I will call him from now on, was her third Internet date. She didn’t have her story straight, yet, but she would make it up as she went along, she had her name, Eva, and the rest would just come along as the night evolved.
They had stood each other up, she waited an hour and left, and then he waited for an hour while she decided if she was to come back or not. She did.
Two vodkas and three scotches later he invited her over. She was unsure. She told him her boyfriend was around, an open relationship as open relationships can be. Bisexuality and freedom reigned the day, plus three rules: no sleepovers, no unprotected sex and full disclosure.
She was unsure of going home with him, but as soon as they kissed, chocolate melted in her mouth and she was gone. She did take a pic of two of his credit cards, plus a pic of his face and sent it all with his address to his bi-boyfriend who was on a date that night too.
There has never been such a happy taxi driver as the one they picked that night, he got a huge tip plus a huge view of Eva’s groans and purple underwear.
They got to his place, small, clean. He took her small gray skirt off, he had been dying to do that since he saw her. Alexander was embarrassed and at the same time eager to show her around. This is my sister, and my office, and that’s my yoga mat and she nodded and waited for him to be ready, to feel at ease.
He took her to the other bedroom where he had set both single beds together. They were naked and kissing before anyone could talk more. He tasted like chocolate, such a cliché, but he did. Her white alabaster skin against his blackness was delish. He was delish, so was she.
“I knew you were a fountain…” as he slid two fingers into her and bit her right nipple. Groans, moans and he was so big, she thought he would break her, but it was just the right size, with the right lubrication.
As he got more excited he tasted like mint chocolate.
The first is always the quickest and as they lay there, kissing. When he came he tasted like cherries. Delish.
They chatted away, nakedness as the most normal thing. He was still eager to astound her. She was still making up her story as she went along.
“So, have you ever squirted?” Her eyes sparkled. No, Eva had never squirted, not under that name and not under other names. But it was one of her sexual goals. “It’s one of my fantasies, to make a woman squirt”. Perfect.
They went at it again, doggy style at one point. “Have you ever done anal?” “I have, but not with you darling, you are way too big for me.” And she came again, and again.
And talk. And sex, and kisses and caresses. And more. And more. And more.
He tried, tickling her G-spot or something else. His finger was smooth and long, perfect for the adventure. He kept telling her how much he loved her body, and her moaning, and how sexual she was. How very lucky he felt that night.
She was almost asleep and asked him once more, so, how was he doing it? The squirting stimulation? He showed her, introducing one finger into her still very very wet pussy. “It’s here, you have to touch it here, and then on the outside, I read about it somewhere and became obsessed…” and Alexander the magnificent kept at it for who knows how long. How can you measure time in pleasure?
And suddenly Eva saw white, everything was white and her moans where flashes of yellow on the white. Her body ceased to exist as it is and felt as if it were imploding. His hand was soaking wet. A different kind of texture and smell than the usual foresty she usually exhaled. She had, finally squirted. Annie Sprinkle would be so proud.
They went at it again. She would whisper and groan into his ear what color orgasm she was having: “orange… orange… blue… orange… yellow… red… purple…”
The gate had been opened. The color of her orgasms were back, and his fantasy had been fulfilled.