Where it happened: bedroom
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 1
Category: Straight
I lost the virginity of my penis a long time ago, but one of my great regrets in life is that I didn’t lose the virginity of my mouth and tongue at the same time. I remember that not long after we first got together, Becky (who later became my wife) said “David, would you like to taste me?”, while holding apart the lips of her sex with both hands. I was delighted to look at what she had to offer, and to run my fingers and hand over it, and ultimately to slide my cock into it, but I declined to put my mouth on it. What a mistake! That was the last time she offered it up to me.
Fast forward a decade. We had now been married several years and had two kids. She was becoming increasingly reluctant to have any sex at all, and I was cudgeling my brain to see what I could do to rekindle her interest. I remembered the offer of her sex to my mouth years before and decided to give it a try. Being the adventurous sort, I decided to add a few twists of my own.
It was a hot Florida summer and we didn’t have air conditioning. It was even hotter in our bedroom, which was upstairs. I decided to cool off with a bottle of Champale, a drink I had become fond of when working in Southside Virginia in the summer of 1965. I got her into the bedroom and asked her to strip naked. I had a large plastic bag (the kind you use for yard leaves) that I spread on the side of the bed, letting it hang over the edges. I asked her to lay down on it and spread her legs so I could see her sex. This always gave me a thrill: I found Becky irresistibly attractive with her clothes on, and with them off there was no restraining me! I placed my hands on her belly, and traced my fingers over the scar marks from the births of our two children, then down to her pubic hair, which I ruffled fondly. I traced the v where her legs came together, then cupped one hand over her mound while running the other up the insides of her thighs, from her knees to her vagina. The middle finger of the hand that was cupping her traced the line of her slit, eventually feeling the moisture come up from it. Becky usually started out resisting sex, but there came a certain point when she would relax her legs and spread them slightly. This to me was always the go-ahead sign, and, needless to say, I eagerly awaited it.
I felt the moisture and the relaxation, and placing one hand on each thigh, I spread them apart widely enough so I could kneel between them and face her sex. I could have watched it for a week, but I had other plans. I took the bottle of Champale (Pink Champale, for a pink cunt) and poured it into the hollow chalice at the juncture of her legs. I poured it into her pubic hair, and I poured it onto the exposed lips of her sex. Then I began licking it up. I could not believe how good it was. “This is delicious,” I told Becky enthusiastically. If they could bottle Cunt Champale, it would outsell everything on the market. I dove back in, to lick up every drop before it rolled off onto the floor. My tongue went delightedly through the thicket of her pubic hair, while my lips acted as a vacuum. I grabbed the bottle and poured on some more.
I was mentally kicking myself for not having done this before. This was the most wonderful thing since…..well, since sex! And I’d been missing out on it all these years.
The best was yet to come. I got into some serious exploration of her labia with my tongue, then sucked them between my lips, thrilling at the intimate feeling. My nose was absorbing the aroma of her sex, and as I rubbed my cheeks and chin around in the hollow of her chalice, they glistened with her cream. By now her legs were as relaxed and widespread as I had ever seen them. I was in heaven, if heaven can be described as a place between Becky’s legs (and for me it could).
As I continued to explore, I felt the nub of her clitoris sticking up and took it between my moist lips. Using a gentle suctioning, I made it go in and out, in and out. She started to move her head from side to side and moan “Oh, David. Oh, David, oh, oh, ooooh, Daavid…” I loved the sound effects, but even more than that I loved the sexual movements. She began to hump her pussy up against my mouth and while I sucked her clit in and out, she rubbed her wet pubic mound all over my face. For one who was so starved for affection, I just ate it up–literally.
Our windows were open, and our house was close to the street, so I would imagine any of the neighbors, or the tourists who visit our town, could have heard the squeaking of the springs or the moans or my exclamations of delight–and I didn’t give a damn. I had just discovered something that made me feel like a million dollars.
The icing on the cake came when she finally had an orgasm up against my tongue and mouth and face. Afterwards she cried and said that was the first time she had ever had an orgasm with another person, and that she hadn’t thought that day would ever come.
For me it was a red letter day, and I highly recommend Champale and cunt as a taste treat and a sexual delight, I wish I had learned it earlier!
Ooh, ooh David. Oh, David, oh Daaa-vid, oooh….
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