Ami.

"Hello, buddy," she said, talking to my semi-hard cock.

She stretched herself out on the futon, raised her head as I stood beside it, and took me into her mouth. My shower could wait.

Oddly, that moment was somewhat foreshadowed by the flirty dating-site messages we had been exchanging back in March. In them, sometimes I visually 'put her' in the position of being in my bedroom, seeing me with a towel around my waist that would... oopsie... drop to the floor. She was amused, we would chat more, and eventually began to date. Or something.

Ami is a bit of a departure for me. There's much that we simply don't have in common, and frankly I thought our first date was something of a wash-out at the time... until, after a walk through Chinatown, she turned to kiss me.

It was a nice kiss. The kind that awakened my then-largely-unused cock straining hard in my jeans after only a few moments. The kind of kiss that, after dealing with so much angst in the previous months, felt Really Fucking Good.

And it's with a little bit of surprise when I say that things just seemed to gradually happen from there.

Ami is an ever-positive, in-many-ways-innocent, articulate, curvy brunette mid30s grad student with a penchant for bicycles, couch surfing, and sumptuous breakfasts. She is, hands down, one of the gentlest souls I have ever known. It actually surprises me that, given all of her intelligence, straightfoward confidence, and disarming sense of total kindness, that her dating life hasn't been more vibrant.

That's also a nice way of sharing that her sexual experiences have been very limited. Granted, that sometimes means that my own sharings with her may not always be, shall we say, as receptively mindblowing as some other past experiences I've had, it's still totally true that I have a personal thang for corrupting the innocent.

That her vibe and looks often leave me mistaking her for a woman ten years younger than what she is doesn't hurt.

Her slightly Rubenesque form features a very friendly pair of 38Ds, and after partnering with so many tomboys in my life (God love 'em all), Ami has given me a new appreciation for bigger tits. Hers fit perfectly in my grasp, and when I'm clutching them from behind her and gently giving them the massaging squeezes that she adores so much, her flesh only just barely peeks out from between my strong, outstretched fingers. And how she does love to have her breasts squeezed this way, especially if I'm nibbling at the nape of her neck or gently chewing on her ear.

Her tummy paunch is a cute and enjoyable palmful when we're spooning to sleep. She tells me that her massage therapist criticizes her bottom, but I keep saying that's nonsense. And, in a way that makes perfect sense in my brain when I think of her relative innocence, she sports a completely natural, completely carefree garden of coarse, dark fur that feels totally glorious to me when I'm gently rubbing my cheeks against her just before I begin to taste her essence.

And I've been tasting her essence frequently. In fact, I think my giving her head is the most frequent play activity that we've been doing. She is definitely not complaining.

During one of first dates, as we cooked together in my kitchen, random kisses quickly turned into a fun quickie session that eventually had her bent over one of my kitchen barstools. Her strong legs were sumptuously splayed apart as she bent over and across the seat of the stool, her lovely round ass before me. She had no choice but to gaze forward into the sunshine that brightened the deck as I squatted behind her and opened her up like a book.

I've written before about how one of my favourite activities is to discover, learn, study, enjoy the sight of my partner's anus. To me, there's a total intimacy in the sight of how she's crinkled, coloured, shaped there. Like fingerprints, like labia, the shape and contours of my lover's asshole are unique to her, and I enjoy the forbidden pleasure of learning hers.

And when I first gazed upon Ami's and began to give her light caresses there on this occasion in my kitchen, she bent over a stool, I immediately subconsciously knew that she had never been in such a position before. In such a vulnerable position before. And that, when I began to gently rim her, the gentle gasps for breath that I was hearing were very likely being accompanied by widened eyes that I could not see.

I liked that.

And so I slid my fingers inside her drenched, furry pussy and made her cum as I stood behind her and gently stroked my cock with my other hand.



But whether or not things with Ami are "relationship material" has been unclear. What were we doing? What were our parameters? Where did we want this to go? I've certainly enjoyed her company, and continue to, but for quite some time I didn't have my finger on the pulse. (G-spot yes, pulse no.) Our thang lacked clarity. Are we just-dating? Are we FWBs? Is she interested in romance? If I tell her that I lower-case-L love her, is she going to freak out or suddenly get distant? That kind of ambiguity makes me insane.

Ami, who commutes to and from the city frequently, has nurtured a slightly gypsy-ish grad student lifestyle. She housesits for the friend who's currently in Paris. She crashes on another friend's couch because it's close to campus. And recently she started spending enough time at my pad that it became a no-brainer for me to give her a set of keys and empty some drawers so she could move an amount of her stuff in my place and stay whenever she wanted to.

Ain't I cool? God, I frighten myself. cough

But her teaching and study schedule is intense. Despite a hot beginning, we've only rarely been able to spend "quality time" together lately. We'll share the same bed, but time and energy for fucking comes and goes. Eventually, I started to ask myself what it was that I was doing here, what it was that she was looking for, and it started to piss me off. Critical mass was approaching, and with a gentle nudge, I made sure she knew that a Conversation was soon becoming necessary. I needed to know where she stood, where she wanted to stand, and that she knew the same in return.

A relaxed sushi picnic in the park later and I had the clarity I needed. And, thus far, it seems that Ami and I are definitely in the friends-with-benefits camp. I sought clarity, and I certainly got it:

"Basically," she said to me after she listened to my mind, "I decided to get involved with you because I sensed that you'd be good in bed."

blink Oh.

Um. Ok.

I can handle that. Sure.

We finished our homemade miso soup in the park and went back to my place.