I saw her drift into bliss with her first taste

 I saw her drift into bliss with her first taste
I'd met Helen through a blind date arranged by mutual
friends and had worked out surprisingly well. Every Friday
night I'd drive up the Parkway from Asbury Park to take her
out to dinner and a movie, then drive down to Staten Island
to do my laundry and crash at my parents' house before going
back to my apartment near the Jersey Shore.

So, one Friday, she told me she wanted to meet my folks.
Not having a reason to avoid this (she was fun to be around
and we got along well) I brought her down to meet my folks.
I did worry about how they'd react to her despite having no
idea of what kind of expectations they'd have for my girl
friend (they'd seen so few before). I was a little anxious
walking in to my parents' house when I called through the
door "I've got someone I'd like you to meet."

I shouldn't have worried. They liked her. We all talked
for a bit and I left her with them to get a load of laundry
running (my mom said she saw me more since I moved out this
way) and we eventually had to leave to bring Helen back
home up in Hawthorne.

Going over the Goethals Bridge she asked me: "So, Jack,
where is your mother from?"

"Belgium. How could you tell?"

"Well, she's got an accent."

I must've looked incredulous because she burst out laughing
when I said, "She does?"

"I'm surprised they liked you so much," I commented after
the laughter stopped.

"Well, Jack, I'm not really sure, but ... well, I know you
didn't date much before ... so I think they were worried
you weren't interested in girls."

My facial expression triggered another paroxysm of laughter.

Well, despite all this our relationship was working out very
comfortably for me and we'd progressed a bit. We'd been
active sexually for a while and we still made visits to my
folks (her folks being a little bit out of range at the time
for us to drive to visit) so we were evolving into a
committed couple. I sure didn't mind, she lent a lot of
stability to my own identity.

So we were there at Kennedy's International Arrivals
building to pick up my folks after they'd been to the Costa
del Sol and then visiting my Mom's relatives in Antwerp.

And I didn't want any of my siblings beating us at this.
We got them home in as much comfort as possible (someday
the Belt Parkway will become a usable road) and we didn't
face too much of a wait getting over the Verrazano Narrows

I didn't realize it but Helen was going to finally agree to
marry me. She didn't know it yet either. Such a little

We helped my parents unpack, my sibs all came cruising in
(even from upstate New York) and the magic moment finally
arrived: doling out the goodies.

Helen had *no* idea.

When we cruised on out to my apartment (so that my folks
could get over their jet-lag) with the little bag of goodies
Helen had no idea what was in it since I went through some
incredible lengths to surprise her.

And surprise her ... I did.

"Jack ... Mmmmmmm ... what's mmmmm that mmmmm?"

"It's real Belgian Nutella ... mmmm ... sweetheart."

I feasted on her chocolate coated pubes and nipples. I knew
she'd need a shower to get rid of the stickiness, but I also
liked to shower with her. Meanwhile I could tease her.

I'd learned a lot about going down and I liked to do it with
her. This was certainly a little extra fun for me, though.

It's odd but I think she came more than once with my tongue
on her clit. While I'm not bad at this, I was more inspired
at this moment.

While she was calming down, I got up, made some toast, and
spread this chocolate on a slice for her to try. I saw her
drift into bliss with her first taste.

There is just something seriously different between the
chocolate you can get imported to the US versus what you can
get in Belgium.

Don't let me kid you, I personally have never been all that
interested in the chocolate my parents (or my mother's
relatives) would bring over. I'd eat it, go "yeah, yeah",
but I didn't have the appreciation others have had.

But this had Helen writhing in ecstacy. Hmmm...

One thing she's always avoided beckoned to me so I spread a
line of this chocolate on my erect member. When she spotted
this she got a gleam in her eye and she came over to me.

Now I can't get enough of the stuff. When our sex flags and
we can't get the good stuff we go into CDD.

Yes, CDD: Chocolate Deficit Disorder.

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