I Grew Up Needing A Man And Finding True Love In The Arms Of A Woman

All my life my mother cautioned me, one day you are going to meet a man who is going to put you in your place. What place? I grew up in a mderately, well more than moderately liberal house. But when it came to man and woman my mother was not liberal. My father was more than the king of the house, it was more than his castle, as one of the two women in the house I had to toe the line, do as I was told, behave, not disobey. My father was Lord and Master.

I fell in line growing up, as a child I was obedient, a good student, I didn't date (I had permission once I graduated from high school but not before), I went off to college never having felt the hand of a man on me. In college I leaned heavily to the liberal side, my college was 75% women and I hate to say it, but the 25% men didn't seem to be men, not in my father's sort of man world. I told more than one of them that in the world of men, they would never walk. They were sissified men, no cojones, no balls, why would anyone fuck them. I told myself, and some of my women friends, can you imagine if THAT was the father of your children?

After my undregraduate I went to Law School, to follow in my father's footsteps because there was no son (another failure on my mother's part I'm sure). But my father kept her on as a wife and he didn't seen to mind, other than mistaking me as a son. And that is at the root of my problems, I am too idependent, I am too self assured, I am too assertive. In other words, not feminine, not meek, not respectful, disodient. No boyfriend.

You would think that in Law School you would meet a man with his pants on, with cojones so big that you give him the right of way, a man with balls who puts a woman in her place. But no, they were just older examples of the 'boys' that were in my undergrad. Not one of them ever turned me on, all talk and no play. I even thought that my problem was that I was focusing on the wrong sex, maybe I needed to seek out the right woman, maybe with a woman I could be mild and respectful and obedient. But women turned me off in that way, can you imagine going down on a woman? I couldn't.

I went to work for real money, my father was proud, my mother was proud, maybe you will meet a man there. By man she meant a man with cojones, a man who would take me by the hair and haul me off to his cave, a man who would set aside my objections and fuck me pregnant (yes my mother wanted the pitter patter of little feet around her). But no, that man did not exist. My father was one of a kind.

I tried with intellectuals, and with engineers (never, never, never) and with blue collar types. No luck, men just didn't come in the model I was looking for. Back to women. I had to hold my nose, and I had to play coy, and I had to lay back and let her eat me so hard my clit hurt for a week. And yes, I had to put my face down there. But I liked it, I really did, once I tried it I liked it. Pussy is so goood. I mean really goood. And I could make her cum, knock her off her pedestal, make her cook breakfast and wear pretty clothes. I liked long hair and tits and hips, and pretty lips, and a nice pussy. I wasn't particular, I was demanding. I will not eat a pussy that is not smooth and all tucked in, that opens up into the flower of womanhood. If I'm destined to eat pussy, then it better be high class pussy. As long as it's pussy, and she is pretty, real pretty, and soft and pretty. Who needs a man anyway.

But one day I got into an argument with a man, he was one of the men upstairs who were decision makers, and he disagreed with me over a point of law (remember I'm the lawyer). He put his hand around the back of my neck, "your problem is you don't get it, do you? Do it my way because I tell you to." I swear, I got wet. I mean I went from dry to wet in that tiny little split second of sheer masculine dominance over me. Here at last was the man I was born for. He dismissed my pecularity of eating pussy, he dismissed my assertivenes and my independent streak, he demanded my obedience. And my pussy got wet.

Oh he fucked me alright, at 33 years old I finally got fucked. And I don't mean with foreplay fucked, I mean fucked as in fucked and if you don't like it, tough shit. Here at last was the man to put me in my place. My mother was excited, maybe now I could leave these girls alone, my father was more blunt, get your ass pregnant. I got pregnant, and then I got married, and I changed my name, and I went shopping for baby furniture with my mother. And I had my baby, a little girl. And then another one and on my second try I gave my husband a son. I knew the drill. Make the man happy and he'll keep you around.

I have the taste of woman in my nose, and I can't quite give her up. She's 29 and an executive secretary and she is pretty as a flower, and wears nice dresses and heels, and she has long light brown flowing hair, and she is slim and has a nicely kept pussy, all smooth and neat and nothing out of place, and when I kiss her pussy she opens up into the prettiest flower. So like a ping pong ball I go from one side to the other and back again, being meek and mild and obedient on Monday and eating pussy and assertive on Tuesday.