(this story starts here and here)
Normally when I stayed over I slept on the couch. There was a pull-out bed, but pull-outs are never all that comfortable. Girlie had recently gotten a new bed, and so her old mattresses were still in the basement, which gave us a nice comfortable place to continue our makeout (and thinking back on it, slightly trashy as well). I was quickly entering uncharted territory.
The kissing I could handle. I'd done that plenty. The roaming hands were newer, but also easy. When he reached for the button on my jeans, that was new. I had said from the beginning that I did not plan to have sex with him. I told him I was waiting until marriage, and he seemed fine with that. "So intercourse is your limit?" he had asked, and I had said yes. I was about to learn about the vast territory between kissing and sex.
I don't remember him getting me out of my bra, though my shirt stayed on. I remember him sliding my jeans down my legs and tossing them aside. I remember him kissing me and sliding his hand frm my cheek all the way down over my chest, down my side (at which I tensed involuntarily as he hit an erogenous zone), over my stomach to cup my pussy through my panties. Those came off pretty quickly too, and he fingered my clit while we kissed and I squirmed under him.
A lot of the rest of the details are lost to the wonder of new sensations, discovering how good what he was doing felt, discovering that what he was doing was even possible. In the back of my mind was always the "good girl" in me screaming "Too Far! TOO FAR! but not being able to be heard, or more like being gagged by the other parts of me that recognized that i was an adult, and this felt *really* good, and that I wanted to be doing it.
I was okay with following him to places I'd never been before because it wasn't scary. There wasn't the catastrophe of emotions I had come to expect. Anytime he did something new, he checked in with me. He wasn't trying to take me all of the places he wanted to go regardless of what I wanted (which had happened in marginal ways in the past with other guys, but nothing devastating), he made sure that I was enjoying myself.
The one thing I do remember is my shirt. At that point, all I had on was a short sleeved mock-turtleneck (because I was stylin in those days). He'd pull it up to kiss my stomach or breasts, and as soon as he'd move his head, leaving it bunched sround my neck, I'd pull it down to cover myself. Somehow I guess it made me feel less exposed, though I'm not sure why because it's not like it covered nearly everything I currently had on display...
I remember him commenting on how wet I was, and how easily is finger slid inside. I had never been able to do that to myself. He said he was going to try a second finger and I had some doubts as to whether it'd go in, but it also slipped in with no resistance. He stopped kissing me at that point, and I didn't want him to. I tried to pull his face back down to mine but he would not let me. I felt him moving down my body, but what came next was so unexpected I could not have anticipated it.
I felt his head between my thighs, and his mouth on me in the most intimate of places. His air was so soft against my legs, while his beard was a little bit rough against the lips of my pussy. His tongue snaked out and touched my clit, and I seriously though I was going to die, it was that intense. I came pretty quickly, though at the time, I had no idea what had happened. I had been masturbating for years by that time, and had been having orgasms and didn't know it. It was a little embarrassing to have to have someone else explain it to me.
I knew guys liked getting oral sex, and I knew some girls liked to give it. But I always thought that men didn't like to give it, that they thought it was gross. Such was definitely not the case that night (or any night after for that matter) and he went to work on me with gusto. I think I probably came about 3 times that night, something else I didn't know was possible.
The other thing I remember vividly was him looking up at me, and I wasn't used to that, and was a little uncomfortable with him staring at me like that. I've since learned that that's pretty common, and I do it now too, but at the time it felt so.... I don't even have a word for it. I was feeling things I had never felt before, never thought it was possible to feel, and I'm sure that was reflected on my face. I'm sure that is what he was seeing, and why he was watching me so closely.
I also think that he knew he was taking me places I had never dreamed of going, and that he was watching for signs of panic. He had been warned that it could happen, and he was trying to make sure it didn't happen. It paid off. I had the time of my life that night, and it opened my eyes to a whole new world.
Posted by Annora at April 19, 2006 12:49 AM