Where it happened: on a waterbed
Langauge: English
Sex: Female
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
Reading one of your stories about a girl losing her virginity on a waterbed brought back memories for me. I also had my first time on a big, warm, sloshy waterbed. Like most girls, I guess, I didn’t enjoy the sex much but I loved that waterbed. Why did those things disappear?
I doubt that your younger readers appreciate how naive we were back in the Sixties. There was no sex education in school, no internet, no pornography, mothers didn’t talk about sex with their daughters. Girls fended off any sexual advances like Doris Day and hopefully stayed pure till marriage. My knowledge of sex came from a girlfriend’s “marriage manual”, with line drawings of genitals and how to put them together. As a twenty year old Midwestern Catholic junior in college I had never seen a penis or had my breasts touched. I think my nine year old granddaughter knows more about sex than I did my first time.
My roommates Karen and Jill and I went with three guys to one of the guy’s parents’ place. There was a swimming pool and no parents home. We swam and barbequed and drank some liquor [also nearly a first for me.] Maybe it was the liquor,but I let my date Tim lead me into a bedroom and we started making out there. I had only known Tim a couple of weeks but it had been a lovely spring day and Tim was athletic and muscular. I guess I was tired of the games and the resisting. So when Tim moved toward my swimsuit straps I let him slide them off my shoulders.
Tim pushed my suit down to my waist and laid me down on the waterbed. It was king size and covered with just a sheet. The thermostat must have been on high and the warmth radiated all around me. As Tim caressed and suckled my breasts our motions gently lifted and dropped me like warm tropical waves. Strangely, I was thinking more about the bed than about getting naked with a man. I guess that was my way of handling my fears.
Soon my suit was completely off and he slid a hand between my legs. I stopped him, saying that I was a virgin and he needed to go slowly. Tim was surprised by that and agreed to be very gentle.
A few minutes later Tim stood up and stripped off his trunks. I watched with horrified fascination as his erect penis was revealed. It was probably no bigger than average but it looked huge to my virgin eyes. The idea of that ugly purple-headed thing being shoved inside me was mighty intimidating. Worse, Tim moved to the head of the bed and tried to manuever it to my mouth. Good Catholic school Caroline wasn’t about to do that -she was no prostitute. [I didn’t perform fellatio for another four years and then it was on my husband. Even then I didn’t allow him to ejaculate in my mouth.]
Tim abandoned that plan and moved beside me. We floated a while, kissing and caressing each other. As he moved on top Tim asked if I was ready. I nodded and braced myself for what my romance novels called my “deflowering”. As we sloshed up and down Tim probed for my opening as I clutched the sheets with my eyes shut. Getting my consent again, he penetrated an inch or two and pumped up against the hymen. Again I told him it was alright to continue. This was where I expected the epic pain hinted at in my Georgette Heyer novels. Fortunately, my cherry broke with only a twinge of pain and he sank fully inside me.
We laid motionless, kissing as I adjusted to the strange new feelings. There was some discomfort and later we discovered a little blood. As Tim started to gently move there was a little pang of pain with each stroke. I gritted my teeth and tears ran down my cheeks as I assured him it was alright. Fortunately, he didn’t last long. We were foolishly not using a condom – this was long before AIDS- or any other protection. I felt his semen fill my vagina and Tim collapsed into my arms. I laid a long time under him, snuggled in the warmth of the bed and feeling very womanly.
Processing your request, Please wait....
