Where it happened: my house
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 10
Category: Straight
I am lucky enough to be married to the passionate Mexican
lady whose story, “Latina,” is #8655 on this site. After
telling her story, she thought I should tell you about our
first time from the male perspective.
I have not always been as lucky in relationships as I am
in my marriage. Although I am reasonably good looking, I
do not fit the Hollywood image of a hunk. But I have
something better going for me: I really care about the
women in my relationships.
To hear the media tell it, every woman wants a committed
relationship, and every man is scared of commitment. I
can’t speak for other men, but in past relationships, the
opposite was true. Like the girl in high school who invited
me to a dance, then showed up with another date. Or the
coed I fell in love with in college, who began drinking and
became abusive after her grandfather died. Or the coworker
who was afraid of commitment because her ex-husband had
dumped her for his secretary.
I was raised to believe that sex is better in a caring,
committed relationship. So as corny as it may sound, I
saved myself for marriage. Sure, some relationships had
involved heavy petting and oral sex, but without the deep
caring for each other, these actions seemed somehow empty.
After these experiences, I joined a dating service. There,
you can read a written profile of the person’s background
and interests, and view a video interview, to see if there
is something of interest BEFORE you start dating. Much more
effective than pick-ups at a bar or a community dance. And
the membership cost was high enough that only those
seriously looking for a long-term, committed relationship
would pay the fees.
After two years in this dating service, I had met some
interesting prospects, but had also been turned down for a
lot of dates. I attended a seminar about defining what you
MUST have, would LIKE TO have, and absolutely will not
accept, in a relationship. After that seminar, I realized I
had been willing to accept a lot of losers just to have
female companionship, and wrote down my rules. I decided
to become much more selective.
Soon after this seminar, I read “Latina’s” profile. We share
an interest in history, and in ballroom dancing. We were
both adoptive single parents (I had adopted my brother’s
daughter, and she had adopted a child during her first
marriage). We spoke on the phone all night every night,
about each other’s philosophies, raising children, our
childhood, past relationships, our jobs, anything and
everything. After two months of this, we finally met in
person, and by then it was as if we had known each other
all our lives.
On our third date, I lost my virginity to her. I was 40, and
she was 45. We had been out dancing, and then went
to my house to talk, as we had on the phone so many
times before. I don’t know who kissed who first that might,
but soon we moved beyond kissing, when she slowly
unbuttoned her blouse, and I began kissing, licking, and
nibbling her beautiful 36-C breasts. After she removed
my shirt, I couldn’t wait to play with her pussy. Before I
could remove her skirt, we led each other to my bedroom.
With her knees raised and her legs spread wide, I eased her
silky black panties down her dark legs, and began playing
with her thick triangle of brown hair. I slid my middle
finger deep inside her. My tongue slowly licked the outside
of her pussy, then as my fingers held her lower lips open, I
plunged my tongue deep inside, and tasted the moistness
lining her walls. Soon, I focused my tongue and teeth on
her pretty little love button, and was rewarded with a taste
of her sweet, heavenly nectar. There is no better view then
looking up the wide-open pussy of the woman you love as
it oozes love juice.
After she calmed down, she had me on my back, and began
softly nibbling on my chest. Nobody had ever done that for
me before, I had no idea that a man’s nipples could be as
sensitive as a woman’s. But my rod was growing longer,
thicker, and harder, and I was bucking my hips up and down
with the pleasure of her kisses and nibbles on my chest.
Now she started kissing and licking her way down my body,
stopping for a while to concentrate on my belly button,
before finally kissing my balls and licking the underside
of my shaft. She slowly began to work my full 7 inches into
her eager mouth, and once it was all the way in, she began
moving her tongue around it while it was fully buried in
her mouth. I was about to come, but I really wanted it in
her sweet pussy, not her mouth. So I stopped her, rolled
her on her back, and slowly eased it into her. The tip was
barely in when she started to moan, and by the time I was
thrusting in and out of her, we were both crazy with desire.
We were so in tune with each other that we both came at the
same moment.
Our fourth date ended up in HER bed for another passionate
night, all night. Soon after that, she had to go into the
hospital for surgery. I spent the whole day at the hospital
with her. For a week, I madethe 20-mile round trip every
evening after work to visit her hospital room until visiting
hours ended. She said nobody, not even her first husband,
had ever done so much for her.
Once she was home, I visited her and helped her around her
house until she was strong enough again to do things for
herself again.
I then spent every weekend at her house. We would go on
outings to parks, the beach, or wherever. Then dinner and
either a movie or dancing. Then back to her place for
no-holds-barred sex all night Saturday, and all day Sunday.
We couldn’t believe how much stamina we both had, and I
would have 3 or 4 orgasms over the weekend, giving her at
least that many, too. She said her first husband had hardly
ever had sex with her, and had never given her an orgasm
in 17 years of marriage.
I began hinting that we should get married, and she and I
talked about it often. We even looked at rings and began
planning. Finally, I had saved up enough to buy the ring we
had both agreed upon. One night, while she was visiting, and
we were in bed again, we were lying on our sides, with
my face buried in her pussy and my cock down her throat,
when I quietly slipped the ring on her finger. I pulled my
tongue out of her pussy long enough to ask “Will you marry
me?” As my cock eased out of her mouth, she hugged me
tightly and almost screamed, “Yes!”
Three months after we first met in person, and just five
months after our first telephone conversation, we were
married. On our honeymoon, we had an in-room Jacuzzi, so
as the bubbles stroked our naked bodies, we went down on
each other, and soon I had my seven inches easing into her
tight walls as the jets of water massaged us.
The beliefs with which I was raised turned out to be true.
The fact that we do care so deeply about each other has
made our love life much better, and I am glad I waited 40
years for someone I really cared about before “going all
the way.” After two years, we still have the same nightly
fiery passion for each other. We are always trying out new
moves on each other, or exotic new places to make love, and
because we care about each other so deeply, I don’t think it
will ever get stale.
We do everything together. We make the bed together in the
morning. We cook dinner together in the evening. We help
each other wash dishes and do laundry. By bedtime, we feel
so close to each other from all this sharing that our
lovemaking makes us feel joined as one person. I am so
lucky to have a soulmate with whom I have fun both in and
out of bed.
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