A Little Taste of Scotch . . .

Mike is an absolute voyeur when it comes to my past flings. He gets off on this little jealous reaction inside him when he hears about some other guy having his way with me. Especially when that guy had his way when we were already dating . . .

Well, to be clear, we weren't dating exclusively. I was in grad school, he was working, and I did a semester abroad thing over in England. And like most people in those kind of situations, we agreed that it was okay to "see" other people while we were apart.

Silly men. Mike admits he agreed to it, thinking he'd be getting all this pussy while I was gone. Guys - a word of advice. We girls can get it any time we want. And you can't. Of course, Mike didn't even have a date in that period.

And me - let's just say I wasn't hurting for company. I've never been one to miss an opportunity. And the opportunity that really turns on Mike happened when I took a week-long bus tour in Scotland.

It was crazy - fifteen college-age guys and girls, drinking and toking their way around the island. That's what really gets Mike - he's pretty straight, and the thought of a guy getting his girlfriend high so he can get into her pants drives him nuts.

But what really gets him is that I was the aggressor. After a couple days on this party bus, this one guy from Germany and I were getting cozy. We'd make out on the tour bus between stops, I'd let him feel up my tits while walking through this or that castle, and at night, when we went to the pubs, I'd let him rub my crotch a bit under the table. But the thing is, we didn't fuck, because the thing about this tour was that we'd sleep in these hostels with big common rooms, without any privacy.

Well, by this time, Angie is horny as hell from all this fingering, and after a few drinks, I get a little forward. I take my German boy by the hand, and I lead him out the back door of the pub of the day and into a semi-dark alley.

And without a word, I get down on my knees, unzip his shorts, and pull out that fat German prick of his and swallow it whole. The guy is shocked, and probably thinking that American girls are every bit as slutty as he's heard. And his dick is thinking, "I'm not going to last long at all." Believe me, it doesn't. This poor guy shoots his wad in my mouth, I swallow, smile, and zip him up, and we go back inside for another drink.

Sure, he tells every other guy on the tour about my oral skills, which is kind of flattering, but I also have to fend off their passes for the rest of the trip. Which is kind of a bummer, because I would have actually fucked the guy at some point if he didn't have such a big mouth. And of course, I don't tell Mike anything when I get home. Not yet, anyway.

Until he asks, of course. Poor guy - his curiosity is killing him. So I tell him, and yeah, he's a little mad, but he's really turned on. And within five minutes of me telling him about the German, he has me on the bed, his penis inside me, begging me to tell him what it was like for me to suck that stranger off in that alley. So I tell him, and he's is coming so hard you wouldn't believe it.

And that's exactly how it's gone every time I've told him that story over the past ten years - instant hard-on.

I really love my Mike.