Where it happened: Boyfriend's home
Langauge: English
Sex: Female
Rating: 8
Category: Straight
I had been what I call a “lip-biting” virgin for many years. What I mean is that from the a very young age, sexual matters permeated my thoughts and often the entire world around me was sensual– but I held onto my virginity boyfriend after boyfriend until my college days, age 21. It wasn’t for any religious or guilt-induced upbringing, I just hadn’t gotten that “go ahead” yet, which now I know was severe instinct. Instinct telling me the others before would not have felt as good, the explosion of pheromones mixed with agreeable minds would’ve been absent.
He was a year older than me and I met him in our university’s student center, surrounded by mutual friends. He was short and quirky with a bit of a far-too-sarcastic sound in his voice, but I was attracted to him immediately, especially his intelligence. (He had such gorgeous eyes, a lingering heat touch and a great deal of opinionated banter. Later I learned that this evil sound was the trials of one-too-many psycopathic girlfriends that had burned him and was making that overtone, but…)
I had a boyfriend at the time, as did he a girlfriend, for nearly 7 months to be exact. Up until I met this “Mr. Right”, I had worked my way into a small, private frenzy. I wanted to please the boyfriends I had before him though. I thought it wasn’t fair that I wasn’t ready to have sex yet, so I learned the fine art of the hand and tounge. I learned to gauge the throb of them with both intensity and warmth. Swallowing was not tough at all, it seemed the most natural thing to do by far. And even before I learned oral sex, I’d learned that there was nothing more beautiful than lying next to a guy and making him come with a kind hand while looking at his face– it makes up the backdrop my of dreams. So, the puzzle pieces were falling together- my pleasure in respect to theirs, the “feeling through them” method until I was ready for sex myself.
Well, it only took a month before we’d graciously said “goodbye” to our significant others and I could tell there was going to be something new about our relationship that he had never encountered with a girl before– security, unobtrusive partnership and freedom to still be whoever he wanted. He needed it badly and although I had never had sex, I already felt as if I was just what he was in essence dreaming all over me: a woman already.
It’s hard not to want to tell you all the details, of why I cared about him so much (and not in that sickening lovey-dovey kinda way that girls abuse and overuse, but in accordance to short attention spans, the event took place in the morning at his house. I never imagined I’d have morning sex. 🙂
I’d stayed with “Mr. Right” for a few nights, fully clothed, when we first met. Each time we even touched it was electric, each caress of the small of my back under my t-shirt, a refined tounge on the swollen breast and hard nipple. I wanted to spend those first weeks constantly kneeling between his legs, taking him to the same places, exploring a very well shaped, beautiful large penis. In that mid-December gloom of ’96, I’d finally found a man who released the last of the inhibitions that had been keeping me a virgin. He had such luscious lips, and kissed me so right. Even though he had experience behind him, it wasn’t that which was talking. In some way, I believe he was being regenerated. We had petted and lusted and melted for about 2 weeks. He never pressured me for a moment to go further, but one morning as holding and kissing and that weight of him when he kneeled between my legs, pressing me and holding my hips in his hands, watching my eyes- I began feeling as if the time was right.
He’d just gotten up out of the bed after one of these sessions, to “get a glass of water” (real reasoning masked- he just had to cool off). I looked up at him and asked, “Do you have any condoms here?”
What total amazement and happiness came over his face. After many years of never being sure of what double-meaning wicked girls had, I knew he believed I was ready too. He came back to bed, urging me to climb on top of him. We had been doing this for some time, his thick, hard penis with the prominent ridge rubbing me through my panties, tantalizing my clit back and forth. This time I got to feel it sliding through the wetness of me and I was certain it was the solstice of my life. I urged him inside and felt the most fantastic feeling. When I lowered myself onto his cock, I felt everything. It physically did hurt, but not in a bad way, not at all like I had imagined, I didn’t even bleed. (I look back and think that was another sign of being truly ready.) I felt as if my identity had been equally divided into hemispheres. I didn’t know my own name. He ached and throbbed, although he was careful not to hurt me. The look on his face knowing he’d been the first was equally as exciting.
I realized soon that I needed to feel him inside of me as I was lying beneath, and he turned me over and slowly thrusted inside, an angel of compassion. The pain had gone away almost instantly and with each movement I became more and more a part of him. He restrained himself for a very long time and allowed me something that most girls miss– an epic,langourous first lay. I pressed my hips up to him, actively giving him as much pleasure as I could take it no more until I could see him come and begged to, telling him it was alright to let go. I could grasp at those veins, that ridge with the muscles inside of me, which in turned tugged at my g-spot. I actually was able to do that the first time. There is nothing in the world to compare to that contraction of a man inside of you, listening to his moans when he comes, knowing you’ve given yourself without strings attached- because you wanted to and you needed him.
I blushed all day that day. We showered and went to lunch, came home and did it again twice. Three years have now passed and we’re still together. Not a single sexual encounter with “Mr. Right” (probably going on up to 300 times now we suspect) has felt wrong, or been mediocre. My advice to any girls out there reading this to gauge your potential “firsts”? Don’t do it unless you get the go ahead from the core of your soul. Trust me, do what you may until then but wait on the right guy.
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