Saturday, July 25, 2015

Losing My Virginity

This isn't really a story about my time with bondage, or as a slave to my owner, Jason. I've been asked to tell the story of when I lost my virginity, so I thought I would give it a go. It's short, and here it is.

I was young. I won't say how young, but I had not gotten my driver's license yet. I dated and had some sexual experience but not a lot. Making out in the backs of cars, hands down pants, my top undone. I had already discovered the fun of making a guy cum with my hand. It was remarkably easy.

There had been a couple of boyfriends, but at that age the relationships aren't deep and don't last long. I was (and am) cute, and a lot of guys asked me out, though it seemed the ones I really wanted were frequently too shy.

Anyway, my first real boyfriend that I liked and wanted to be with long term and thought I was in love with (I didn't really understand love back then), was a guy named Kevin. Taller than me by quite a bit, a good body and very nice. He was respectful, kind, and always showed thoughtfulness. And he was damn good looking.

Whenever we had the opportunity we always ended up making out. I discovered dry humping with Kevin, an interesting activity (if a little frustrating at times). He was older and drove, and sometimes if we were lucky we had time to find a place to park, and the clothes would get loosened and hands dug deep.

During this time we developed a sort of pattern where his fingers would slide under my jeans and find my pussy, and my hand would find his cock (always rock hard), and we would masturbate each other as we kissed and pressed together as best we could in his car. He always came, semen going everywhere, on my hands, in his pants, even once on the outside of my jeans (I was terrified my mom would see it and know what had happened).

Kevin knew I was a virgin. I honestly don't know if he was or not. But the makeout sessions had been getting hotter and more intense, and I had actually had an orgasm or two, and he had cum in my hand (or spurt god knows where else) at least 10 times.

One night we ended up at a party. It was at a friend's house, not really an organized party just a bunch of us going over to this guy's place because his parents were gone and we liked to hang out. There was no drinking (a rule this guy had), though we had smoked a little before going over there. It was cool just hanging out and being free for a while. I remember a couple we knew were there, and he was laying on the floor and she was on top of him (fully clothed, both of them), and grinding her hips slowly, casually against him.

Kevin and I wandered back to an extension of the living room, which was kind of an L shape so the end we were on was somewhat hidden from the living room. There was a giant bean bag chair and we plopped down and started kissing.

I gotta tell you, I loved kissing and making out with that guy. I thought I loved him, and he made me so hot and horny; it really was easy to just fall into his arms and go a little further each time. We kissed and felt each other through our clothes for a while, but in spite of the fact we were in a house with like, 6 or 7 other kids, we just got carried away. Buttons came undone, zippers slid down, my top was pushed up and his hands under my bra.

The bean bag gave way and conformed to our bodies, and while we were sort of side by side, he was more on top than I was. The shape of the chair sort of held in place, keeping me in one position under him as he pushed my jeans down and gained access to my pussy.

I was so wet. I mean, my body was ready. My legs spread some, one leg over the edge of the bean bag chair, and Kevin pushed and strained for better access, his fingers getting wet from my pussy. My hand had found his cock and his pants had slid down below his ass. I was stroking, playing with it in ways that I knew drove him crazy and would result in his spurting on me pretty soon.

He shifted his body over, moving his cock closer to my pussy, and started rubbing it against the outside top, right over my clit. I swear, I was breathing so hard, I was so horny I wasn't seeing straight.We both had let go of each other, our hands were no longer on each other's genitals, but were wrapped around the other as his hips pushed and slid across my bare pussy.

I was going to cum, and I could tell he was getting there. His jeans were only down around his thighs, but mine were down around my ankles, allowing me to spread wide. His cock continued to slide on my wet vulva, and I could think of nothing else but wanting him inside me. I didn't think about pregnancy, about disease, about the wisdom of actions at my age... I just wanted that cock to push inside me. I could taste it. I needed it.

So I reached down and adjusted his cock position just a little. No more than an inch, just enough that the head was pressed against the folds of my flesh, the entrance to my vagina.

He had been pushing, sliding up and down for a while and when I repositioned him, he stopped. Just... stopped. What??? His cock just sat there, gently pushing against the outside of my pussy.

"Are you sure?" he said. The guy was being chivalrous. Oh my god, I loved him. I nodded, "yes"...

What I didn't say was "fuck me, I want you to fuck me more than anything, you idiot!"

That was what was in my mind, though.

He pushed, gently. It was bigger and surprisingly tight. I hadn't realized what it would feel like; but he was being gentle. My back arched, I gasped a little and he stopped for a moment. I think the head of his cock was in, just barely inside me. The slowly, gently, he pushed a little more. My legs were spread as wide as the bean bag chair would allow (plus my jeans and panties were around my ankles).

It felt just fucking amazing to feel his bare hips between my thighs, and feel his cock sliding into me, however slowly. I was being filled for the first time, penetrated. I had given this to him, and he was taking me, and I wanted him inside, deep, as deep as he could go.

Didn't happen. As he pushed deeper it got more difficult. I was tight; too tight. As gentle as he was being, it was a little overwhelming. I urged him on a bit more. He slid out just an inch, to where his cock head was barely inside, and then pushed back in again. I gasped again, he was big and I was tight and while it did not hurt, it was uncomfortable. I wanted him so badly... but began to feel my body wasn't quite ready to receive a pounding.

His cock was about halfway in, I think. He slid in and out a couple more times, each time my eyes sort of glazed over in a combination of mental ecstasy, physical pleasure, and physical pain. My ass was ensconced in the form fitting bean bag chair, unable to move, and I was going to just have to keep my legs spread and taking his thrusts. I wanted it.

But, I finally decided we had done enough, and said just that. "That's enough..."

He slowly slid out of me. The remaining memory of his size spreading my flesh, distending it, filling me and penetrating inside me, stayed in my mind and feeling.

I finished him with a hand job, this time with his semen spreading on my stomach. He carried a handkerchief that he used to clean me off.

We held each other, and the feeling of his solid, real body in my arms was wonderful.

It was a week later, in his room upstairs and his parents oblivious downstairs, that we did it again, this time with me naked on my back, legs wide, knees up, and his cock deep inside me, pushing until he spurt inside and left his seed to seep out later. That was a novelty and something I had to discover. Having sex results in some cleanup and body fluids draining out.

No comments:

Post a Comment