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Contains adult themes and sex. Read at your own risk.
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For personal use only - if you repost, please include this header.
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"The First Time"
by
Javahead
I remember the first time we made love very clearly.
It was winter, and the house was - not cold - cool. It was late, and
everyone else had gone to bed, but the two of us were still up, bundled
under a blanket, and talking quietly between kisses.
We had been dating for several months at that point, but we were still a
little afraid, I think, to decide how serious we wanted to be. Hanging
over us was the fact that she was in the United States only on an
extended visit to her brother, and that she was due - eager really - to
return to Hong Kong in a few more months. Unspoken, but always present,
was the knowledge that we needed to decide what our relationship would be
soon; neither of us was certain whether we should spend more time
together or break off immediately to lessen the eventual pain.
Neither one of us had a great deal of sexual experience. Although we
both had dated others in high school and college, she was still a
virgin. When compared to her, I was knowledgeable, but one love
affair does not a complete lover make. I did know enough to at least
realize that she was not ready give herself to anyone until she was
ready to make a commitment; I managed, somehow, not to pressure her
about it. We had kept our relationship on a light, flirting, level, the
highlights being the slow good night kisses at the end of each date.
That night, though, the longer we talked, cuddled, and kissed, the
harder it was to part. I could feel her pressing tighter against me; I
was acutely aware that all she had on was a flannel nightgown. When she
straddled my leg and began to unconsciously rub up and down on it as we
kissed, I realized that she was just as excited as I.
I pulled back until I could see her face, and asked her "Are you ready
to make love with me?"
She lowered her eyes, and seemed to struggle with herself. Finally, she
whispered "I don't know - but if you told me to come to bed with you I
would."
For a moment, I was very tempted. I had wanted her since we first met,
and she was telling me that she would let me decide. But if I had
learned anything about her at all, I knew that she would not take an
affair casually; it was just too easy to her if I took her offer.
Slowly, regretfully, I shook my head. "No. I want you very much, but
you yourself aren't sure. I would rather wait until you know that you
are ready. I think we had both better go to bed; I don't know how long
my self-control will last."
I could tell I had guessed right by her expression, which blended
disappointment and relief in equal measures. She leaned forward, gave
me a light kiss, and climbed the stairs to her room. More slowly, I
went down the stairs to mine.
Though I went immediately to bed, my mind - and body, damn it - was
still wide awake. For over half an hour, I lay looking up at the
darkened ceiling, not sure if I felt good due to temptation declined or
stupid for the same reason. No matter how many times I reasoned it out,
I came to the same conclusion - to push her before she was ready would
almost certainly her. Unfortunately, you can make the right
decision and still feel terrible.
Suddenly, I came fully alert; I heard a light scratching at the door. I
opened it to see her. She looked determined, excited, and frightened,
in just that order. "I've decided." was all she said.
For all of our flirting and kissing, I had never seen her without
clothes. Now, she pulled off her nightgown rapidly, as if to prevent
second thoughts from stopping her. Her followed with equal
speed. Though she was blushing, she held her clenched hands at her
sides and stood erect, then slowly turned to give me a full view.
I could have given you a good guess, before, about how she looked
without clothes - slender, golden skin, long dark hair, small, firm
breasts. What I couldn't have predicted was the details, and how she
fit together into a graceful whole. And I would never have guessed that
those small would have supported such large - no, huge -
red-brown nipples.
She shivered when I put my arms around her. It could have been the
coolness of the house, or it could have been nervousness. Rather than
guess which, I pulled her under the covers and held her until she was
still. Soon, we were kissing once more, the only difference being the
feel of skin on skin. This time, when she straddled my leg I could feel
a warm wetness, proof that despite any nervousness she was as ready as
I.
She giggled when I lightly kissed her breasts. Inexperienced as she
was, she expected me to push right in, but I wanted her first time to be
more than a quick fumble. Instead, I slowly began to explore her body
with hands and lips.
Her skin was silky smooth, and warm to my touch. She shivered slightly
as I began to kiss my way slowly down her body; as I neared her center,
I could feel her legs tense slightly, and slowly relax as I continued
past her hip and on down the outside of a leg. Another, stronger,
giggle as I kissed her toes, and ticked her instep. I transferred my
attentions to the other foot, and gradually worked my way up the outside
of that leg. This time, she did not tense as much as I worked my way
higher, so I took a chance and planted a light kiss at the base of her
small pubic V.
The hair was sparse, soft, and only slightly wavy; inconsequentially, I
remembered how puzzled she'd been by the phrase "by the short and
curlies" in a we'd seen. This close, her aroma was intoxicating.
She'd showered after dinner, but the smell of clean skin and soap
overlayed with the musky-sharp smell of her arousal. I moved slightly
lower, and slid my tongue tip up her folds to glance off her clit;
before I could even register the taste, she shuddered and pushed her
crotch into my face, hard.
What followed was almost comical. I was determined to take my time, and
thoroughly explore her pussy. She was equally determined to grind it
into my face as hard as she could; it was the first time she had *ever*
experienced more than heavy kissing, it felt *good*, - and she was in no
state to remember that I might like to breathe. I finally had to
concede defeat; I could tell that her was small, smooth, smelled
and tasted wonderful, and was rather wet at the moment, but sight and
even touch were not really functional. When I began to run out of
breath at the same time that my jaw started tiring, I pulled back and
started kissing my way back up.
When I got to face level again, I leaned forward to kiss her. When she
tasted her own juices on my face, she gasped and began to pull away;
suddenly fierce, I held her still and slid my tongue into her mouth.
After a frozen second, her mouth opened, and I felt her tongue slide out
to answer mine. If anything, the minor outrage had been transmuted into
more passion; I could feel her wet sliding up and down my thigh in
rhythm with her kisses. We had built up a lot of tension over the last
few months, and she seemed determined to release it all at once.
This time, I worked my way down with more confidence. The first time,
I'd been afraid of going too fast, so I had given each no more
than a light kiss. This time, I wanted to take the time to examine them
in detail. Could the nipples *really* be as big as they'd seemed? I
might as well admit a minor right now: I've never really cared
about size per se - I've dated ranging from boyish to buxom
- but I've always found large or erect nipples extremely attractive.
It's never been a *big* part of my fantasy life, and I've certainly
never selected girlfriends because of it, but still . . .
My judgment wasn't wrong; if anything, they were bigger and nicer.
Imagine a pair of small, but nicely shaped breasts. Give each a
dark red-brown aureola in proper proportion. So far, everything had
matched my imagination. But instead of the pencil-eraser sized nubs I'd
imagined, I found myself facing a pair of erect nipples as large as the
first joint of my thumb. I gave each a light kiss; her giggle turned
into a *gasp* as I slid the left nipple into my mouth.
I nursed gently, then moved to the other breast, rolling the free nipple
between my fingers. Urged on by her moans, I was soon firm, if not
rough. I would have thought the way she had me tugging, twisting, and
biting at her nipples was painful, but if I slowed she would whimper
till I sped up again.
At first, all of my attention was focused on her breasts. Soon, though,
I slid my left hand down to cup her mons. She was very wet, and began
to press herself into my hand in time with the kisses, bites, and tweeks
I was giving her breasts.
Almost without thinking, my middle finger began to stroke along the
length of her slit. The outer lips had opened, and at the end of each
stroke my fingertip glanced off the little nub at the top. From the
sounds she was making, she was very near the edge. Instinctively, I
slid my finger into her tight while fluttering her clit with my
thumb. Instinct had been right; she bucked, cried out, and went limp.
By the time she was coherent again, I was holding her in my arms.
For a time we cuddled. I really didn't expect more, at this point; she
had already gone far beyond her previous experience, and seemed to be
drained. I felt a profound tenderness, and a willingness to hold her as
long as she felt the need. My own aching hardness, though not
forgotten, lost all importance.
As limp as she had gone, I expected her to fall asleep. Instead, she
began a slow examination of my body, as slow and meticulous as my
examination of hers. Before, she had gone from shyness to need far too
fast to take time for things like this; now, she had the time, and she
seemed to regard my body as a marvelous toy. I was flattered by her
gasp at the size of my cock - I am of average size, but to her it seemed
enormous.
Rather hesitantly, she took my cock into her mouth. She only had the
vaguest idea about what to do, but she was an eager learner. Only her
inexperience allowed me to keep from finishing then and there - and she
was a quick study. Just before I passed the point of no return, she
relented, and let the head pop back out of her mouth; gradually, the
threatened eruption receded. She slid back up to kiss me; after a hug
that threatened my ribs, she rolled onto her back and said "Now. Take
me."
I supported myself above her, and placed the head of my cock against her
entrance. Somehow, I made myself stop, and looked down into her eyes.
I saw excitement, eagerness, and fear all mixed together. "Are you
sure? I can stop if you're not ready." Her jaw firmed. "Yes! Do it
*now*!."
I still can't fully describe what I felt when I first entered her. I
could use all the old, trite, terms - hot, wet, tight, soft - but beside
the physical, and much more important, was that *she* wanted *me*, and
trusted me enough give me her virginity. Even through my passion, I
felt a wave of tenderness, and protectiveness.
Paradoxically, that first entrance seemed both to last forever and be
over instantly. I had worried about hurting her, but neither of us even
noticed her hymen's breaking; we were both too absorbed in other
sensations. All too soon, I was buried to my full length, my pubic
hairs mingling with her scant crop. We both paused for a moment to
absorb what had happened.
She brought the moment to an end with a murmured "so *full*,"
emphasizing it with a squeeze of her pussy; what she lacked in
experience her natural aptitude more than made up for. I cupped a
breast and kissed her, as slowly and lovingly as I could, before I began
to move again. Our mutual need, held in abeyance by first-time tension,
returned to the fore.
Whatever little self possession either of us had left was soon lost.
Dimly, through a building orgasm, I was aware that she was moving with
me, matching thrust with thrust. Once started, she seemed to have a
need that exceeded my own. We were both past the point where subtlety,
or gentleness, mattered. If it was possible for two people to force
themselves into one, we would have done so. This time, when she came, I
felt her clench around me, tight enough I could barely move. With
a final thrust, I joined her, my wordless groan blending with her cry of
triumph.
"Was it like you expected?"
"No. If I'd known what it's like, I couldn't have waited this long."
"Just as well you didn't then."
*Giggle* "You're right."
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