Fantastic Fellatio, Orgasmic Oral, Luscious Lovemaking, Losing Christine! ~ Peter Stone

This is my fourth post about Christine. Apologies for the spelling of luscious in the html link, can’t change it without breaking numerous other links. If you’d like to read the first three follow the links below:

Taking Christine’s Virginity

Hard Won Orgasm

Teaching Christine How To Make Love

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In case you don’t wish to read the earlier posts, this is a précis of the story so far: Christine was a very attractive oriental looking girl whose father was from Thailand. Tall, very slim, breasts perfect from my perspective, so on the small side, legs which went on forever. I was a senior manager with a company in Newcastle and she worked indirectly under me as an administrator.

Dating eventually led to lovemaking, but she was very unresponsive. I discovered that I’d taken her virginity on the first occasion and eventually I managed to get her to enjoy petting, cunnilingus and fellatio. On the third lovemaking (after many weeks dating) I helped her achieve three orgasms during one wonderful session. One from cunnilingus, one during her first ever cowgirl experience and, because I’d held back on my own orgasm I managed to give the third during vanilla sex, which was spectacular for me, too. She also told me she loved me.

After she’d fallen asleep I spent a lot of time looking at her face and believed I was reaching the conclusion that I was falling in love with her.

This post follows on from that third sleeping together in my apartment. However I must point out that by reading our blog you are reading true stories and true stories are not always all love and kindness. You are actually reading our life stories on this blog and there is no point in us only telling the ‘nice’ bits. This particular post recounts great sexual pleasure, even more exciting family pleasure and the distressing pain of unexpected loss. You may, of course, only read the ‘nice’ stuff if you wish, but you need it all if you are going to understand Angela’s and my lives and how things fit in to other life events.

- o O o -

Great Sexual Pleasure

We continued to date regularly and she was spending an increasing amount of time staying with me so we were also starting to understand each other’s domestic foibles. She was a good cook and enjoyed cooking. I was not bad at housekeeping and we shared most of the chores although this was the seventies and I’m afraid men tended to expect their ladies to look after more of the domestic arrangements. Having said that, I was the main breadwinner and holding down a really important post with the company, often working late and bringing work home.

Our lovemaking had become really good and we enjoyed the most incredible sex. Any reader who read the first two posts will realise how things had changed by our third month.

French Knickers and Camisole similar to that worn by ChristineOne particularly nice experience was on my birthday when we’d had a lovely meal at a Berni Steak Inn in the city and returned home. While I made some Gaelic coffee Chris disappeared into the bedroom and came back in silk French knickers and camisole top, crept up behind me and cuddled me tightly. I turned to kiss her and then she waved a pair of silk boxers at me, told me to go and change and she’d look after the coffees.

When I returned the Hi-Fi was playing Sinatra, the coffees, laced with whisky, were steaming on the coffee table and Chris was sitting sexily on the couch in her silky underwear. I came over and cuddled into her.

We kissed and I caressed her breasts through her top and her hand squeezed my penis through my silk boxers which was an interesting experience on its own.

We sipped our coffee. I’ve never liked coffee too hot and Chris finished hers first, slid off the settee and suddenly my groin was receiving the most delightful attention. Hands coming in through the leg holes and then through the fly. My erection was huge. She then eased it through the entrance and I was treated to the most wonderful fellatio. Everything was perfect. Her tongue circled my corona over and over and over again as her lips masturbated me seriously well. I soon tried to stop her but she just looked up at me, shook her head and continued.

I warned her several more times and she ignored me. She’d never taken me to climax before, mainly because I prefer to come inside her, but this time she seemed determined to finish me off and it was absolutely wonderful.

One hand had my testes in a firm grip, the other was pressing hard underneath them at my perineum and her mouth speeded its motions.

If it was going to happen, I wanted it to be special so I shouted for her to slow down and the lips almost ceased their movement and her tongue took over, brushing over and around my glans in slow circular motions until I absolutely exploded.

It was a spectacular fellatio and completely wiped me out. She continued afterwards still licking and kissing and sucking and finally just holding me still.

“Nice?” she asked, finally releasing me, but continuing to caress me with her hands.

“Unbelievable.”

“Happy birthday, Peter,” she said, sucking, kissing and  licking me again before finally climbing onto the couch beside me. She is so beautiful.

A few moments later a second album had finished and she put Matt Munro on the turntable. More romantic songs. She then cuddled up with me once more while I tried to recover.

About forty minutes later we went through to the bedroom where she installed a condom and climbed aboard me. It took less than ten minutes for her to come to an orgasm then she continued her motions, more slowly and deliberately until I had a second orgasm. I would never have believed this was the same girl who had been unresponsive for so long.

I chose the time of my climax to tell her, “Christine, I love you.”

All she said was, “Oh, good,” then went about the business of dealing with the condom, cleaning me up and we both cuddled up together under the sheets.

As I was drifting into my post coital sleep I heard her say, “Oh, I so love you too, Peter. Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, Chris?”

“For saying you love me.”

“I’m sure I do and thank you for a birthday gift I will never forget.”

We hugged and then fell asleep.

- o O o –

Exciting Family Pleasure

My office was large with a beautiful rosewood desk and matching office suite of cupboards and visitors’ chairs. If you saw it you would be impressed. It indicated my importance in the business, the most senior manager at the Newcastle end of operations and, if rumours were to be believed, I could be on the board in a year or two yet I was only twenty-six.

I had a very efficient secretary called Diane who protected me from unnecessary intrusions. I still spent a lot of my time looking at coding in detail for the new and improving computer system so needed quiet, concentration time.

One day a few weeks after my birthday present I was working on lines of code and had asked not to be disturbed. Diane buzzed me and told me Christine was in the outer office in a state of some agitation and insisting she must see me. She never came to see me during work. I sometimes said hello when I passed through the administration office and sometimes in the canteen, but never at my office. We kept business and pleasure very separate.

Of course I told Diane to show her in and she walked through the door looking most distressed. Diane shut the door behind her and I got up and took her in my arms.

“Are you OK, Chris?”

“No, not OK,” she said, her voice trembling.

“What’s up, Chris? Tell me.”

She went quiet, looked down at her feet as if she’d committed some awful crime or critical mistake at work.

“Tell, me Chris. Please,” I insisted, holding her off at arm’s length and looking into her face. I had to use my hand to lift her chin so that we made eye contact. I’d never seen anyone so nervous and there were tears in her eyes.

“Chris,” I said, “What is it? Tell me.”

She blurted out, “I’m pregnant!”

I had never thought about what went through someone’s mind when they were given such news and now I was faced with it. My first impulse was to disbelieve. We’d used precautions and I was always careful not to transfer any semen on my hands and ensured she didn’t either. Then the second fleeting impulse that it wasn’t me, but I knew it had to be. There is no way that Christine would have been unfaithful. I’d have bet my life on it. Next I wondered if we could get rid of it and finally, probably only twenty seconds after being told I realised that I was going to be a father, and that it was a wonderful thing and I was being absolutely dreadful to my dear Chris, by having remained so silent.

“How wonderful, Chris,” I finally said and kissed her warmly and tenderly.

“Really?” she asked in genuine surprise.

“Well. Unexpected. Unplanned, but these things happen. You’re going to be a mother and I’m going to be a father and we’d better get hitched pretty damn quick,” and I laughed out loud.

Christine burst into tears and hugged me tightly. I sat her on the office couch, popped my head around the door and asked Diane to bring us two teas.

I sat and comforted her.

“How am I going to tell my parents?” she asked.

“Give me a second,” I said and went out to Diane’s office where she was busy making us some tea.

“Di, can you check my diary. I know there is nothing today, but do I have anything vital on tomorrow?”

While the tea brewed she checked the master diary and said it was clear, then said, “Nothing. Is Miss Sakda all right. She seemed very distressed.”

“You know we’re dating?”

“Yes, there is a rumour to that effect.”

“Well, and this is NOT to become a new rumour, we are expecting a child. She just told me.”

“I should be pleased, yes?” she asked, always the soul of discretion.

“Yes, you can be pleased, but do try to keep a lid on it for me.”

“Congratulations. Tell me more when you feel able.”

The tea was ready and I carried the tray into my office while Diane closed the door behind me.

I sat with Christine and we drank our tea.

“I don’t know how it happened,” she said, still upset.

“Well, the man’s penis enters the girl’s vagina and – don’t you remember?”

She looked up at me and now burst into laughter and said, “Oh, is that what you were doing that for?” and I laughed with her.

“Chris, I know this is not very romantic, but I really am thrilled at the news and I wonder, would you marry me?”

“Oh, Peter,” she cried, flung her arms around me and my cup flew through the air, spilling tea over the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she said, but it was no real problem, the floor was a sort of compound tile and would be easy to clean.

“Well?” I asked.

She kissed me and told me, “I would love to marry you.”

“Right,” I said, “Go back and tidy your desk and meet me in the car park in twenty minutes. We’re going to buy you an engagement ring. I’ll call Henry from here and tell him I’m giving you special leave for today and tomorrow and we’ll go and tell your parents the news.”

“I love you, Peter,” she said and turned to go.

“Love you, too,” I called before she reached the door.

I still have no idea how it happened. Perhaps one of those rare occasions when a contraceptive fails or we’d been careless. Come to think of it, Chris had put the condom on me without washing her hands first on my birthday. She almost certainly had semen on her fingers from after that delightful fellatio. So fellatio might not be a 100% effective contraceptive, I smiled to myself. Ah, well, no point crying over spilled milk. I’d have rather had a planned family, but perhaps a surprise is better.

Two weeks later we had a civil marriage in Sheffield, where her parents lived, and she returned to work as Mrs Stone. Our honeymoon was just the two nights in the Station Hotel, but I promised her something better as soon as I could arrange it.

So that is how I learned that my first son, George was on the way. We went on to have a second son, Robert and a daughter, who I insisted be called Angela. I never told Christine why, but I wanted a namesake for my first love from my teenage years in Gurney.

Our marriage was pretty good, although it had its ups and downs and not all of them in the bedroom. We were both faithful to each other and she was always a great lover. I can only think of one better.

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Warning: The remainder of this post contains unhappiness and trauma. You’re forgiven if you want to bail out now. These are true stories, not fairy tales. This link takes you to the front page if you want to opt out.

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Some people may find this section distressing.

In 1987 I found a lump in Christine’s breast and she set up an appointment for an X-ray. It was cancer and very advanced. There were further tests and then we attended an appointment with a specialist and he told us that it was inoperable because it had also spread into her liver and elsewhere, too. I asked for the prognosis and he said between three and six months.

I was deep in disbelief and Chris sat, shaking, obviously in shock. I put my arm around her.

“What about treatments, can we extend things?” I couldn’t think of a way of saying it more sympathetically.

“The six months is with drugs, radio and chemotherapy. Three if we do nothing,” the specialist informed us.

“Chris. I’ve got more questions. Would you like to sit outside?” I asked.

“No. I want to know,” she said in a trembling voice.

Turning back to the consultant I asked, “What’s involved?”

He was obviously trying not to distress Christine further, but I urged him to give it to us straight.

“The therapies will cause a lot of discomfort and some pain. There are lots of side effects like vomiting, hair loss and others. It will also need weekly hospital treatments.”

“And if we don’t take the treatment?”

“Mrs Stone will have about two months of relatively normal life with any pain being controlled by drugs which have few side effects. During the last few weeks there will be rapid deterioration, a lot of abdominal discomfort, again controllable. There will then be palliative care at the end. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

The consultant added, “Most people choose to manage without the therapies with cancers this aggressive. Two good months rather than six poor months.”

I swallowed hard and told him we’d need to make a decision, but Chris immediately jumped in and said, “I’d like the two, please, Peter.”

“Could there be any mistake?”, I asked in hope rather than anticipation.

“I’m sorry. I’ve studied the x-rays carefully with a senior colleague and there is no mistake. A biopsy of the liver would be a confirming extra test, but it will not affect time and will mean an unnecessary further discomfort in my opinion.

We left the hospital and I was amazed how she managed to remain composed all of the way home. Once we’d got in I took her into the garden and we cuddled up on our comfortable garden swing seat. She didn’t cry.

The consultant was pretty accurate. We had two really good months including a lot of love and sex and wonderful meals, weekends away every week, our friends and families rallying around to look after the children while we enjoyed what was left of Christine’s life. We also managed ten days in the Maldives early on in the period where we scuba-dived on the reef and made love as many times as we could manage each day. It was idyllic and Christine was full of life and love and enjoyment and fun. That was between the bouts of tears and anguish and fear of what was to come, but we tried to keep her good months as a positive experience.

During the last month she started experiencing a lot more abdominal pain and deteriorated exactly as the consultant had predicted, eating less and less, consuming more oral morphine and becoming less aware of her surroundings and who was with her and where she was.

I had hoped we might see it out at home, but I had to call an ambulance when she collapsed one afternoon from sheer weakness in her legs. I sat with her in hospital and she looked up at me from the bed and said, “I enjoyed it all, Peter.”

HandsI kissed her and she looked towards George and her parents and closed her eyes. She never regained consciousness and died three days later.

This is the most awful disease and I hope none of you ever have to deal with it. If you do, then believe me, take the two months of proper life rather than six months in and out of hospitals.

- o O o –

Click this for Angela & Peter's BooksI’m so sorry that this post, which started so happy has had to end on such a sad and depressing note. Angie has told me I can promise you a cheerful one, full of sex and passion tomorrow. Don’t give up on us. Remember this blog is based on honesty and true stories and there is always bad among the good.

You are reading our life stories with the emphasis on love. There is, of course, a lot of love involved in saying goodbye to a loved one, but it must be tinged with loss and sadness.

Peter Stone

2 thoughts on “Fantastic Fellatio, Orgasmic Oral, Luscious Lovemaking, Losing Christine! ~ Peter Stone

  1. Luiza Pinaud

    I’m very touched by your beautiful story! It made me cry…
    She must have been a strong and amazing women. I’m sorry for your loss.
    At least she had good moments with her family and friends in the last months….

    My grandmother also died of breast cancer and it is indeed an awful disease.

    Best wishes,

    Luiza

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