Where it happened: Her apartment
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 7
Category: Straight
Teri was 28, divorced, with a 4 year old daughter. I was a 24 year old college graduate, working part time and attending graduate school part time, struggling to get my career off the ground, feeling less than succesful and deeply concerned about my future. I didn’t have a girlfriend and was struggling with self acceptance.
I met her in Sunday School. She smiled when we met, but I thought she was off limits. She was beautiful, but I didn’t feel worthy of a beautiful woman.
We went on a singles retreat. Afterwards she stayed back to play on the swings. I was amazed that a divorced woman could be so playful. We were like high school kids again.
One night, during an evening church service, I caught her smiling at me. I could no longer resist her, so I asked her to eat dinner with me. She opened her heart to me. She trusted me. She made me feel useful and worthwhile. I needed someone who needed me. I was willing to be her shoulder to cry on if that was what she wanted. She had been so transparent and real that, at the end of the evening, we kissed deeply. When we parted, it had started to rain, and she said, “don’t melt.”
I had always been a late bloomer. I didn’t feel worthy of women my age, much less an older, more experienced woman. I was fearful that I would not be able to please a woman sexually, especially an experienced woman.
Teri had gotten pregnant the first time she had sex. She gave up that child for adoption. Then she had married a man who couldn’t get her pregnant due to a low sperm count. When they finally gave up trying to have a baby, she suddenly became pregnant. By that time, however, he had begun drinking and abandoned her emotionally while she was pregnant. She and her father fixed up their house without his help, so she divorced her husband. After she got divorced she lived with a wealthy professional man for a while. Then, she decided she didn’t want to raise her daughter in a home with a man to whom she was not married. She moved out, returned to church, and vowed not to have sex again until she was married. Then I came along.
I wasn’t looking for sex. I was looking for companionship. My father told me it was wrong for me to date a divorced woman. He was right, but at the time, I was so in love with this beautiful woman that I could not hold anything against her. I wasn’t perfect. How could I expect her to be perfect? It wasn’t her fault that her former husband had neglected her emotionally. It was a bad choice to live with a man out of wedlock, but I was willing to look past all that, because she was so transparent, so genuine, and so trusting. I needed her love and affection.
One day, after a trip to the zoo with her and her daughter, she and I spent time on her couch. She gladly shared her breasts with me and seemed somewhat amused that I found them so fascinating. I had only seen one woman’s breasts before that. I was amazed that a woman would feel so free to let me massage and caress her breasts.
A few weeks later, we met for a game of tennis. We left in our own vehicles. She went back to her apartment and I went back home. I called her to talk when I got back home.
She had a sad story to tell. Some men had tried to pick her up the previous day. She was feeling used and abused. I asked her if she would like me to come over. She said she would.
As I was driving over to her place, I got an erection, but I told myself I was not going over there to have sex.
She greeted me at the door and we kissed deeply. She went to the bedroom to get pillows to throw down on the floor, but I met her in the hallway and guided her back to the bedroom. She went willingly. Then I disrobed. She left her tennis outfit on.
I lay on my back. She crawled on top and kissed me. Then she moved down to my chest, to my stomach, and finally to my penis. I had never felt such an exquisite sensation. It was almost too much. She would swirl her tongue around my penis and flick the tip with her tongue. She made me weak. I could barely utter her name.
I could no longer just lie there and take pleasure from her. I reached for her panties, and she helped me remove them. I crawled between her legs. I missed the first time, so she grabbed my penis and guided me into her. In that moment, I lost my innocence.
I remember thinking that her vagina was not as pleasurable as her mouth. I couldn’t believe how easily I could slide in and out of her. I had no urge to ejaculate. I would plunge deeply back and forth. then I would plunge into her and give an extra shove. It was a slow, rhythmic pattern. Soon, she told me to slow down. I thought she was asking me to slow down to save my ejaculation, but she was nearing orgasm. Soon, she began gasping and sighing, and had an orgasm, saying, “Ohhhhh, ___________. I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait.” The sound of her orgasm, and her words were music to my ears. Not only had I been able to avoid ejaculating, I had pleased a sexually experienced woman.
We got up and took a shower. It was the first time I had been completely naked with a woman. She complimented my naked body when we stood in front of the mirror.
I went to the living room to lie down. She came out in a red satin robe. I opened her robe and kissed her body. I kissed her vaginal lips and came back up her body. I inserted myself into her again. Again, she reached orgasm first. This time, I was determined to ejaculate, so I began to thrust rapidly and with great force into her. Finally, I ejaculated. She reached back, cupped my balls in her hand, and said, “don’t leave.”
When I went soft, she got a wash cloth and gently cleaned me up. We lay naked for about half an hour, pouring our hearts out to each other. She told me she couldn’t believe it was my first time. She told me she liked it when I went deep.
Finally, I got another erection. It just happened. She tried to mount me from the top, but couldn’t, so we sat facing each other and I pulled her on top of me. I carried her to the bedroom impaled upon my penis. She said no man had ever done that with her before, and she was amused.
We made love yet a third time. This time, I lay below her while she made love to me and I played with her breasts. Finally, I turned her over and made love to her missionary style. She had yet a third orgasm and I went for my second ejaculation of the evening. I really had to work for that second ejaculation. She folded her legs back as I pounded myself into her. I almost felt brutal, but she didn’t complain about my vigorous thrusting. After I ejaculated, she again reached around and held my balls until I lost my erection.
I finally left. We vowed never to have sex again until we were married, and we kept that vow, although it was difficult at times. We remained intimate friends for half a year, before I went away to school. She concluded that she could not be part of my family since my father wouldn’t accept her, and became engaged to another man. I was happy for her and wished her well.
I will always remember Teri. She was my first. I remember her Chanel No. 5 perfume. I remember how she made me feel, from the first time she smiled at me, from the first time she kissed me, to the way she opened her heart to me, to the way she made me feel needed, and to the time she took me into her body and made me one with her. She has a part of me no other woman ever will. I think of her often.
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