Anal Cherry Popping

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1994: Anal Cherry Popping: Something to Celebrate

It was the first time in my life I was living together with somebody else.

It was thrilling. I remember the first time we went together to the supermarket. I was used to buy just a few things and spend some metal coins just not to use the Credit Card… I left there half of my monthly pay! We bought an unbelievable amount of stuff to start our household, most of which I would never think of. I remember Karin pointing out about the importance of a good pair of scissors: she chose the most expansive she could see, and actually they are still there doing their job.

Our anonymous furnished rented flat became our home in just a couple of days, Ysa explored the neighbourhood making herself respected by other 4-legged locals, and soon we were settled.

Of course, things were not always so easy.

Karin was physically clean, but psychological rehabilitation takes much longer, and I was not an expert, so I made mistakes, like entrusting her with a copy of my Credit Card.

We were just settled, when in early February we got a phone call from Simon: Karin’s mother died of cancer.

It is never the right moment to loose your mother, doesn’t matter how bad your relationship was, but that one was one of the worst possible ones for my poor wife-to-be.

I remember Karin was stunned with pain. She cried silently, got herself a full glass of Martini (Martini for us is without Gin, just the white Vermouth we use as aperitif), and put on some loud classic music, which staid on all night… I tried to stay close to her, but Karin asked to be left alone. I suppose that it makes it double sad, when you always postpone reconciliation with your parents, and suddenly it is too late.

In February, I left two weeks for an exercise down in the South, and poor Karin was left in Busto, alone with herself… She couldn’t speak any Italian at the time, and it was quite tough for her. I was aware of that, but there was no solution, so I left and she staid at home.

It was a nice experience to be back in the field with our tanks and armoured vehicles, even if I was just in the Regiment Staff and not in Command… The smell of the fuel, the thunder of guns, the roar of Jets performing CAS, the overall feeling of power…

I was calling Karin every day, but I knew it was difficult for her.

When eventually we came back, I immediately realized something was wrong. My bank account was drastically low, Karin’s eyes were glassy and poor Ysa looked so worry, the poor faithful and reliable animal!

I searched the house as I learned to do in Africa, got some dirty stuff and threw it into the toilet between Karin hysteric shrieks.

She got cold turkey two weeks later, during another mission, this time a CFE inspection training at our CFE Centre next to Rome; only, this time Karin was with me, and I managed to take care of her. It was hell, I had to report myself ill for two days during the mission, but we worked through it.

We went back home with Karin clean again, only a couple of kilos thinner…

It asks for a lot or love and care to help somebody out of drugs hell, but we had plenty of both. By spring, Karin was again clean, psychologically rehabilitated – also with the help of my medical doc in the Regiment – and quite a few kilos more rounded up… She looked more and more beautiful!

She also learned Italian in between: Karin claimed it was easy for her, since Italian is just French pronounced in Spanish, and she was good at both already!

It was a challenging time: it is hard to be the guardian of your beloved one, but it may be worth, if the partner agrees. Karin never hid behind a finger: she was straightforward in telling me never to trust her hundred per cent when it came to drugs, and always to check her out whenever I felt there was something wrong. I did; sometimes I was right, and it was sad for both; other times I was wrong, and if it was sad for her to feel mistrusted, it was beautiful for me to prove myself wrong.

Apart from that awful February after her mom’s death, Karin never fell completely back into abuse; she made mistakes, but I always spotted her on time and prevented her to fall again into physical addiction. Slowly, the psychological addiction faded away too, and even maintaining a high vigilance, I detected fewer and fewer risks.

The threat was always there, but the girl was getting stronger and stronger.

By spring, Karin was another person.

Her arms were covered again by muscles, her ribs had disappeared under healthy flesh, her small tits had rounded up, her cheeks had filled in, and her beautiful eyes had definitely lost their glassy appearance, recovering all her bright blue light.

I had slowly improved my fiancé wardrobe too, both with sportswear and a few tailleurs. I got her shoes and boots, some young leather clothes and even evening clothes. I couldn’t help favouring for her short skirts due to her wonderful legs I was so proud of, and she was slowly coming to realize canlı bahis her status amongst other women… Men of all ages were looking at her with unmistakable desire, making quite clear she was a beautiful woman.

Actually, Karin was a knockout. Once she got some colour on her pale skin, she was properly dressed up and got a decent hairdresser session, she didn’t need any makeup to look beautiful in her own age, while with a little of war-painting she looked ten years younger and got scores of youngsters whistling at her when passing by in the park or in front of a bar.

She came to like feeling appreciated for her appearance, something she never did before, due to both the lack of consideration she always got under this point of view from family and partners and to the political attitude of her left wing intellectual background, which always criticize appearance as bourgeois.

I was so proud of this new Karin that I had never enough of carrying her out, showing her around, taking her to see all the places I liked the best or to meet the people I felt better with. It wasn’t always successful: there were people who were just jealous and liked to think that such a blond exotic beauty had to be either dumb or bad; but most people discovered with pleasure she was also witty, well educated and of nice company.

Actually, Karin had quite a culture: having been a line dancer at the Dutch National Ballet implied also good studies of art and music. She knew everything of classics and of modern music, she knew of literature, paintings and philosophy. Plus of course, she spoke seven different languages, on top of her newly acquired Italian: Dutch, English, French, German, Spanish, Afrikaans and Yiddish. She could discuss of politics and of history of Religions with the same easiness she could dance the Swan Lake or Heavy Metal.

Music was quite a problem for us: I couldn’t stand her House and she was puking on my military songs; in the end we found out we both liked New Age, plus some Classics, and we came to listen to music together too… Sometimes.

But most of the times, when we were together, we were travelling. To the mountains, to the lakes, to the rivers, to Milan, to Turin… Or to Asti.

Funny enough, it was Karin who pushed to go and see my parents. In a way, it was kind of a challenge for her, to manage to be fully accepted by my family as a good daughter in law. Also, she had discovered how nice to have a real family can be, and she wanted to enjoy it.

We started to explore all the surroundings of my region, we went back to Portovenere to relive our romantic holiday, and we went often to visit all the area around Milan.

It was so wonderful to be thirty and in love! Having the knowledge, the freedom and the means to do all you wanted to do as a teenager, and with the girl of your dreams…

It was dangerous too.

Karin was such a tease. Or maybe I was just so permanently horny at watching her. Basically, we were never coming back home from one of our short trips without having had sex somewhere or in a way that we shouldn’t have had.

The most classic was the provocation while driving: Karin was just starting innocently showing more and more of her legs while I was driving, and then, when she was sure I was hard, she started caressing my neck and/or my hands and saying sweet things into my ear, to end up massaging my well-swollen groin.

I couldn’t help reciprocating, and soon my right hand was deep under her skirt, slipping between her thighs and into her knickers, probing her moist intimacy… I often managed to have her come twice before finding a good spot to hide the car and fuck the hell out of her.

One sunny Saturday in April I drove to our open training area next to the river, where we had a patrolling exercise just the day before. It was a nice area with a lot of woods and small open areas, all crisscrossed with narrow paths where we used to perform combat patrol basic training. Birds were protected from hunters there, and it was a paradise for them.

I pulled the car into the area from a side access I knew it was open, and went into the wooden area to the edge of the open grassland where we normally practice hand grenade launches. Of course there was nobody around on Saturday, but still people kept out being a military training area, so we were safe.

I always dreamed to fuck a woman on the car hood. I pulled Karin out of the gar diving my hands into the folds of her light dress and French-kissing her deep while manoeuvring her in position, her back at the front of the car.

Then I lifted her and had her sit on the hood. She laughed at feeling the warmth of the engine under her ass, and I bended to her groin, slipping my head under the hem of her skirt.

I smelled the intoxicating perfume of her excited womanhood, and reeled in the silky caress of her soft-skinned inner thighs.

I kissed the moisture on her cotton panties.

“Roberto, my knickers…” she cooed with a sultry voice.

“You’re right, honey,” I mumbled: “I’ll bahis siteleri take care of it.”

I quickly removed her useless knickers, and pulled my head back between her bare legs.

The golden curls of her pubic hair tickled my nose as I pulled her legs open to better accommodate myself in close contact with her intimacy.

Then I started probing with my tongue into her thick bush, tenderly searching for her sweet opening.

It was never a long quest: I soon felt the sweetness of her essence between my lips, as her slit opened like magic to my tongue touch, revealing the hidden treasure of Karin’s pussy.

“Hmmm…” she moaned, excited as always by the opening of her sex.

I licked the juicy, inner sides of her lips, savouring the sweet/spicy taste of my woman, causing her to moan again and louder.

I reached with my fingers into the pussy hair, helping keeping her lips open, and pushed my tongue inside her, suckling and lapping her most intimate parts.

“Aahhh!” she cried happily, “Oh yes, lick me please… Hmmm… Aahhh…”

Karin was so juicy. Pearls of pleasure were running out of her, all the time getting stickier as her excitement was rising, until the sudden release of orgasm drenched my face beyond any hope to drink her dry.

Then, I felt her hands grasping my hair and pulling my face flat into her cunt, her bare thighs clenched around my head, and I almost chocked into her drenched pussy.

I feasted on Karin’s exploding hotbox, lapping her flowing juice and eating her out until my tongue started hurting and her bush was all matted with come.

Then I just rose, pulled my jeans open and showed my heavy artillery to the target.

Karin’s wet purple slit was gaping at me, all crowned by her glorious golden hair, and I couldn’t wait anymore.

I drove into my girlfriend with a single, well aimed thrust, and she screamed out in joy and pleasure at feeling stabbed so suddenly and smoothly: “Ah! Aahhh… Aahhh… Oh yes, fuck me. Fuck me now… Hmmm… Aahhh…”

Damnit, my legs are always too short for the positions I crave for! I had to go on my tiptoes to manage to pull all the way into Karin having her on her back on the hood. As a matter of compensation, her legs were so long I could easily get them on my shoulders as I started fucking into her with all I was worth for.

I bended on her to kiss full mouth her trembling lips, but she was way too tall for that. I ended up with my face on her bosom, which was not bad either. Her nipples were pointing to the sky through the thin material of her light summer dress, and I could liberally bite them both through the cloth, causing her to jerk and scream in protest.

Fucking Karin’s pussy while biting her nipples, her thighs tight between my chest and hers, my head grabbed between her knees and her hands, it was paradise.

Under our wild coupling, the car was bucking and bouncing, adding extra power to my thrusts into Karin’s belly and to my woman’s satisfaction.

“Aahhh… Aahhh… Yes… Yes… More… More…” she was panting and groaning into my ear while I kept at screwing into her, trying to reach with any thrust a different part of her willing womanhood.

I felt her climax approaching, mounting, breaking and finally subsiding to start mounting again.

Karin was multi-orgasmic: her highs were never devastatingly powerful, but she was capable to experience really many of them in a raw, which might leave her pretty exhausted in the aftermath.

So it was that afternoon in the woods, with the sun shining under the trees and the perfume of newly opened flowers surrounding us with its tempting promises…

Karin exploded in her third orgasm, and I followed her, releasing into her with a groan of satisfaction.

I was exhausted: I had to stay all the way on my tiptoes in order to drive her to satisfaction, and I could barely stand; yet, I had not enough of my girlfriend.

I bended again, to inspect the results of my job…

Between her spread-eagled thighs, Karin’s pussy was gaping open, cum slowly trickling out of her cunt, while her pussy hair and lips were still matted and drenched with female juice and saliva.

It was such a tempting sight I couldn’t resist and dived again under her skirt to eat her out of all what coming out of her freshly fucked pussy. I had never tasted my own cum yet, I had always felt disgusted by the idea: it felt gay-ish to lick sperm, even if it was mine leaking out by a girl I just fucked. But this time it felt different: it wasn’t my come, it was ours. The result of our coupling, of our mating, of our love.

So I went on her and lapped eagerly at Karin’s sloppy pussy, eating all what was drenched with or that was running out of, and I continued until I felt her shacking and convulsing in the throe of yet another orgasm, and suddenly her taste become far sweeter as her fresh juice mixed up with our thicker mix.

“Oh my God…” she panted, sounding totally done: “Mercy… I can’t take any more!”

I laughed. bahis şirketleri I was finished too, and I whished I could collapse in bed on top of her, but I couldn’t… There was some driving between us and our bed.

It was quite a dangerous drive, tired as I felt and with a totally fucked up, half naked pretty lady sitting next to me, lovingly caressing my neck and shamelessly showing her well-fucked, dishevelled blond pussy not only to me, but also to all truck drivers I doubled on our way home…

We got a lot of happy hooting by them, but we were in no mood to share, not at all.

Our average sex score was a three times a day during the week: early morning, waking-up fuck, lunchtime quickie, and evening romantic lovemaking. On Saturdays an red days, our average was higher of course, including a random number of daylight, opportunity quickies and extended love sessions in bed, both in the morning and in the evening. This, not taking into account occasional finger-fucks and blowjobs in the car or at the cinema…

You are free not to believe me, of course. Naturally, this was our early times together, and was a result of our love and of our past (and present) fears and frustrations. But it was also a time of growing confidence in each other and in our future together.

We were also speaking so much. Karin had a good culture, and political opinions quite far from mine, which made good ground for good exchanges that made our relationship much wider than a purely sex-bound one.

We also spoke a lot of our lives and of our dreams, constantly improving the mutual knowledge and awareness.

Karin’s older dream, starting from her early womanhood, was forced sex with a “real man”. It wasn’t the long-spoken rape dream, nothing so wild: she dreamed to be kidnapped by an Indian chieftain, taken into his tepee and being his property. Of course, it was the total opposite of her desperate desire for freedom, a classic taboo. It resulted in her loving quite rough sex sometimes, without preliminaries or sweetness, like when I was just on top of her while she was doing the dishes and just took her bending on the basin, pulled her knickers besides and stabbed her absolutely dry… She screamed out in outrage, but also got wet so quickly that pain melted in pleasure before her scream subsided…

Other times, she wanted to experiment bondage, and wanted to be tied spread-eagle on the bed and fucked senseless with a band on her eyes. I wasn’t sure I liked that, but she did.

My eternal desire was anal sex.

In the beginning, Karin rejected my requests, saying she was simply too tight for me, and I would rip her open.

I heard this one from more than one girl… If they were right, nobody would have anal sex, right? So I insisted.

Karin was a strange kind of a former pro: she was shy. I often wondered how she could be professional during her former working activity, and probably the answer was, she did enjoy sex. Basically, she was high ranking enough in her business, she managed to avoid men she really disliked, and she always ended up having fun… Well, sort of.

One night, I asked how many men she had in her bed.

She looked at me: “Are you serious?”

I nodded.

“You’ll not like to know.”

“Come on, you should know by now, I am not judging you.”

She sobbed: “I suppose around two hundreds.”

I wasn’t impressed: “Only?”

A sad smile: “Darling, I’m talking about the ones who didn’t pay for me. I have no idea how many clients I had. Two or three a week, as an average… I don’t know. I didn’t keep a roster.”

It was amazing for me to realize that basically, Karin had no idea what love was. Before we met, she thought romance was just a fiction to sell to the idiots. And since she didn’t value her own relationships, of course she didn’t mind that much to sell herself. When on mating mode, she was basically changing partner every second week, and basically cheating on them full time anyway. When on business mode, she just went online as a high fare escort, and got the clients she wanted. Basically, the only differences were about getting paid by cash or just with a couple of nights out, and weather sex had to take place in her bed or in a hotel.

She didn’t like to talk about her clients, probably out of her recently acquired shyness, but was full of kinky stories about her boyfriends… Whom she clearly didn’t keep in high esteem either.

Quite surprisingly for a former pro, Karin’s sex repertory wasn’t as wide as you would expect. No kinky stuff at all, no fetish, and very little oral: just plain, protected one-on-one intercourses. And, of course, no anal.

Okay. Time to expand your horizons, honey… Strange feeling, having to teach a former pro.

But again, it asks for a lot of stomach to do oral sex to somebody you don’t care… And not many clients are into liking a pro cunt.

Now, things were different. For the first time, Karin was making love to somebody she cared for. Now, giving head wasn’t an upsetting requirement to make a client happy and ready. Kissing during sex wasn’t an inconvenient side dish of the main course she was selling. Changing positions wasn’t just a way to exact pleasure from the intimacy with a one-night stand.

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