A First Fantasy

Okay, so how y'all doing. This story is going to be a little different from most, in that it is an actual fantasy of mine, and not a fictional piece.

So let me start by giving you a little background. I am a virgin. Yes, you read that correctly. Despite all the stories I have written on here, I'm a virgin. Hell, I've never even gotten a handjob from anybody other than myself. I learned to write erotica partly from reading the stories on here, and partly from a class on human sexuality that I took in college. My inspiration for writing it came from a couple of particularly sexual friends of mine.

Anyway, this story is a fantasy of what I kind of imagine and would kind of like my first time to be. Now, I'm not going to use real names in this story, so I'll use the names of a couple of my characters. For myself, I'll use the name of Jason Garrett, since I serve as the character basis for Jason (obviously not the sexual basis, just the character). For the girl, I'll use Tara Zelino, since she serves as Tara's character basis (she's also one of the friends who inspired me to actually write and post stories – she's one of only two people in the entire world who owns a hard copy of everything I've written). Any other names used in this story are also character names from my fictional stories, used in the place of the person they're the character basis for.

Finally, I've set this story at California State University at Northridge. Tara and I will both be attending school there next year. In reality, neither of us go to school at Fresno State. So, here we go.

*

It's the weekend after the first week of school. I haven't seen Tara in over a year, as she has been attending school in another state while I've been out here in California. I can't wait to see her. Ironically, we've grown even closer since we've been apart than we were before.

The drive in from Woodland Hills is driving me up the wall. She lives on campus; I live off campus, about five miles away. Unfortunately, there really is no good way to get from Woodland Hills to Northridge. Ventura Boulevard is a joke, and don'teven get me started on Tampa Avenue.

Now, the last time anything even remotely sexual happened between me and Tara was a ridiculous make-out session in the library at our university. Unfortunately, I had to get to a choir concert and ended up leaving with a massive case of blue balls. Strangely enough, we had a bit of an argument about this nearly a year and a half later, where she said that she was certainly worked up herself – in her words, the female equivalent of blue balls! My response? "Well, at least you were able to go take care of it – I had to wait till after the concert was over!"

Finally, I reach CSUN. She lives in a dorm with some of her sorority sisters, but they somehow happen to all be away for the weekend. Convenient for me!

I'm getting nervous as I approach her door. I literally haven't seen her since March of 2004. I was a lousy friend for quite a while, but we've gotten very close as of late.

I remember delivering the printed version of all my stories to her. I was in the town where the school she was attending was, and I called her to say I wanted to drop it off, along with a card (it was a birthday present). Unfortunately, she was headed out of town, and so I ended up leaving it outside her dorm room door. Later, as I was driving back to California, I got a text message from her telling me that it was one of the best presents she ever could've received. Later, she told me she expected me to autograph it.

So now, I'm standing in front of her door. Tentatively, I raise my hand, and slowly knock. Once, twice, three times.

The door swings open – and there she is.

Tara's face lights up like it's Christmas Day. "EIGHT INCH!" she yells, jumping into my arms and wrapping my up in a bear hug – not something easy for somebody who's only 5'3"!

Oh, I guess I should probably explain Eight Inch. We both used to be in our college marching band. A couple of years ago, very early on the morning of our annual band festival, I was talking to a member of her section about handguns. I didn't know Tara very well at this point, but she just happened to walk up as we were talking about Desert Eagles. At that very moment, I happened to be talking about how the Desert Eagle has an eight inch barrel to give it more accuracy.

"So you have an eight inch barrel, huh?" she asked, with a very evil smile. And from then on, the nickname "Eight Inch" stuck. Every time she called me that, people would want to know what it meant, and her response was, "Jason has eight inches of cold, hard cock!"

I wish. It's more like seven. Eh, whatever. Every girl I've ever talked to says that it's the quality that counts, not the quantity. And yes, I know that that's pretty clichéd, but Idid once have a female friend tell me that the absolute worst sex she ever had was with a guy with a ten inch cock who thought he was the king shit.

Anyway, done with that tangent.

Let me describe Tara for you. As I said, she's only 5'3". She's got an amazing body that I'm quite sure many females would be quite happy to have. Now, she's complained about it, in my presence, and I have, of course, disagreed with her, because, in my opinion, she's got nothing to complain about. She's got a fantastic ass, really nice legs, and her chest comes in at about a 34D. Blonde hair, a smile that would melt anybody's heart, and sparkling, almost laughing, blue eyes complete the "Tara package".

So as she embraces me, I hug her tightly. There's nothing quite like seeing a friend that you haven't seen in a long time (did I mention she's the only friend who's ever given me porn?).

She invites me in to her place. It's nice, but it's a dorm, and let's face it, dorms suck. I have never been a fan of dorms. But that's neither here nor there.

We spend a good hour or so just catching up. Yeah, we talk online and over the phone a lot, but that's just not quite like talking in person. Eventually the conversation turns to relationships.

Since that makeout session in the library, I've had a couple of relationships. One of them lasted for six months, and I really thought that she was the one – but it turned out I was wrong. The other was with a friend who I've known since we were both kids, but it was a long-distance relationship and, though it was fun while it lasted, didn't last very long. That's when I admit the truth. "You know," I say, "I often wondered what my relationship with Kelli would've been like if it'd been with you. Same goes for my relationship with Lauren."

This definitely comes as a surprise to her, but does not appear to shock her. "I've thought about you a lot too, Jason," she says. "You know, that day in the library – that was one of the sexiest, most erotic experiences I've ever had."

You know, even though she had told me that back in April, it still comes as a bit of a surprise – hearing her admit this in person. Tara has always been far more comfortable and open with her sexuality than I have, so the fact that I played a part in one of her most erotic experiences ever is a bit of a shock – but quite flattering at the same time.

"Yeah," I agree. "I would say that that was, by far, my MOST erotic experience ever."

At this point, I pause. Should I continue, or just let it lie?

I decide to continue.

"In fact," I continue, "I've often wondered what might've happened if I hadn't had to go to the choir concert."

A moment of silence descends over us. Then, Tara speaks.

"I think I know exactly what would've happened," she said. "We would've ended up... well, I think you know what we would've ended up doing."

Strange. Tara's ordinarily so comfortable with her sexuality, and yet she won't just out and say that we probably would've had sex to me? I press the issue.

"What?" I ask gently. "If it's 'We would've had sex,' you can just say it. I'm fine with you saying it."

"I know," she says. "It's just that – you're, you're different, Jason. Our friendship is just so different, so special, that I'm afraid that I'll say the wrong thing to you and then it'll be wrecked."

You know, I guess that makes sense, but I'm taken aback a bit. "Really," I reply. "I think that you underestimate my own personal sexual growth."

She looks at the floor for a bit. When she looks back up, her eyes are a bit moist. "I know it won't do anything," she says. "I – I just feel, I feel almost scared to say something like that to you."

Okay, time to back off a little. I move over by her and wrap my arms around her. "It's okay, Tara," I say. "Don't worry about it."

She hugs me back. "I missed you, Jason," she says.

I hold her for a couple more minutes. Then, I feel her head move. Turning my face a bit, I realize that she's looking up at me. She has that smile on her face – the one that makes my heart melt every time I see her. I smile back – and then I lean in.

Gently, I kiss Tara. Her eyes close, as do mine. The kiss only lasts a few seconds before we separate, but when I kiss her again, it's with passion, and almost a sense of urgency.

As our kisses heat up, I feel her tongue dart into her mouth. It feels almost like she's wrapping it around my tongue, like a snake around a branch. I've known some good kissers in my time, but she definitely takes the cake.

When we "come up for air", we're both breathing heavily, which is strange for two people who've had their asses kicked, year after year, by marching bands, as we have. I begin to kiss her neck, as little tiny gasps of air escape from her.

Kissing all around her neck, I gently kiss my way along her collarbone, out to her shoulder, and then follow the scoop of her shirt downward. When I reach her cleavage, a small alarm goes off in my head.If you continue, it says,you may not be able to stop this course of action.

Well, that alarm has been going of in my head for the last twenty-three plus years, and I think I'm ready to move on with my life. "Silencing" the alarm, I move on. I gently kiss each of Tara's breasts, and then unbutton the top button on her shirt.

The top button is followed by each of the buttons below it, until she's exposed from neck to navel, only her bra covering her fantastic breasts. Unfortunately, I may have reached a stopping point, as I've never undone a bra before. However, she seems to read my mind as I hesitate, and she reaches up and undoes the front clasp on her bra.

The cups fall off of her breasts, exposing the contrast between her tanned upper chest and the covered portions of her breasts. The areolae and nipples stand out in particular contrast, their darker red color against the nearly white flesh color of the remainder of her breasts. Nonetheless, they are firm and are the most beautiful pair of breasts I've ever seen.

Moving back in, I kiss around her breasts. One at a time, I gently suck on her nipples, causing the gasps to grow louder, more intense. When I move down from her breasts, she sighs, almost disappointed.

That's when I stop. "Uh, Tara," I say, "I'm not sure of what to do next. Um..."

She looks me in the eye, a very amused gleam entering her own eyes. "Um, what, Jason?" she asks.

"Well, I, uh..."

Shit. How do I tell her that I have absolutely zero experience with oral sex and that if I even tried, it would probably be awful?

She solves that problem for me. "You don't have a clue about giving head, do you?" she asks, barely concealing the laugh within her voice.

"No."

"Then don't worry about it," she replies. "I can teach you another time." She's actually laughing by now.

But she quickly turns serious. "The question is, Mr. Garrett, do you want to continue?"

Hmmm. Do I want to continue? "You mean, do I want to have sex with you, Tara?"

"Yes, Jason, that's what I'm trying to figure out. Do you want to? Do you feel like you're actually, finally, ready?"

I actually have to think about it. Am I ready? After close to twenty-four years of virginity, am I truly ready to move on with my life? I mean, I know I "silenced" the "alarm" and all, but still...

Well, I guess I am. And, if I'm not, well, I'll have to deal with that later. But right now, I'm going to make the decision to take that risk and move on with my life.

"Yes."

"Lay down," instructs Tara. "Just relax, and everything will be taken care of."

I lie down on her bed. Sitting down next to me, she undoes my belt, and pulls my jeans down around my ankles. The tentpole that my cock is forming in my boxers is exposed. And then, my cock is exposed as my boxers join my jeans around my ankles.

Tara leans over till her mouth is right above my cock. She kisses the tip, then slowly takes an inch or so of it into her mouth. The feeling is incredible, indescribable. But then, just when it's feeling really good, she removes her mouth.

"Hey," I protest, "I was enjoying that."

"Don't want you popping your cork before we get to the main act, Eight Inch," she says, her eyes laughing at me again. She's enjoying this WAY too much.

Standing up, she pulls her shirt and bra the rest of the way off. Then, she undoes her belt and drops her own jeans to the floor, exposing the lacy dark blue "boy shorts" she's wearing. Stepping out of her jeans, she hooks her thumbs under the waistband of her underwear and pulls them down around her ankles as well.

Tara stands up and I get my first ever in-person view of a naked female body. As I look her up and down, my cock gets even harder and straighter – something I didn't think possible. Head to toe, Tara looks absolutely amazing. From her heart-warming smile to her breasts to her neatly trimmed pussy to her shapely legs, she is just an incredible sight to behold.

Tara kneels on the bed beside me. "Last chance, Jason," she says. "If you don't feel ready, we can stop right now, and you can wait until you feel like you're ready. But, if we continue on from here, then it's all the way."

I stop and think for a moment. Then, looking Tara in the eye, I say, "I'm ready."

Without a word, Tara straddles me. Gently, she pulls my cock upward so that it stands out perpendicular to my body. Then, with agonizing slowness, she lowers herself the length of my cock, until it is completely enveloped by her tight, warm, wet pussy.

Wow. I don't really know how to completely describe the feeling I have, except to say, why in the hell didn't I go for this sooner?

Tara remains with my entire cock inside her for a few seconds, as if giving me a moment to experience the feeling. Then, very slowly, she lifts herself back off of me, leaving only the head of my cock remaining inside of her. But that only lasts a brief second as she, a little more quickly this time, drops herself back down my length.

She picks up a little speed, but is still going fairly slowly, settling into a rhythm as she encases and then releases my cock. The feeling of warmth and moisture as her pussy wraps itself around my cock with each descent is an amazing feeling, a sharp contrast to the relatively cool air that hits the skin of my cock each time she lifts herself.

Well, it seems that she wants to make sure to have an orgasm herself, as she begins rubbing her clitoris. And now, strangely, I feel bad. Why should she have to do all the work? I can at least throw in a little help. I think I can handle the fingering part – after all, I have been playing the piano since 1987 – I've got damn good manual dexterity!

I reach up my right hand and move her hand away. She looks down with a bit of surprise as I begin to use my thumb and index finger to stimulate her clit, but then her eyes shut and her mouth drops open as she lets out a soft moan. Well, I guess I'm doing that right!

I continue the clitoral stimulation as she continues riding me. It's a little faster now, almost as though she were riding a horse to the finish line. It's also beginning to take its toll, as I feel my orgasm welling up deep within me.

My finger movements on her clit are becoming more and more erratic as I attempt to bring her to orgasm at least close to the same time as I come. However, I don't know if I'm going to be successful, as I feel the orgasm break through the surface of my control.

"Oh God," I gasp, as my dick fires its load into Tara. Once, twice, three times – I spurt over and over into Tara as I desperately try to get her off as well.

And I succeed. With a moan, she grabs my shoulders and begins shaking. Her orgasm is somewhat subdued. However, even in the throes of my own orgasm, my calculating mind takes into account her highly erratic breathing, spasming facial muscles, and low moans, and the part of my mind that isn't wrapped around my orgasm realizes that she herself is having a highly intense orgasmic experience.

As we both come down from our individual highs, Tara lies down on top of me. Now, I guess most guys will, after having sex with a girl, move away from her. However, after that experience, there's nothing I want more to do than just hold her.

My cock quickly goes limp, and as it shrinks, it slips from Tara's pussy. A slow stream of our combined juices begins to leak out, dripping onto my leg. Right at the moment, though, I don't care.

"That was wonderful," she whispers in my ear. "How was it for you?"

How was it for me? How do I answer that question? It was amazing, yes, but how to best word it? Then, it hits me.

"It was," I reply, "everything I expected, and more. Thank you. Thank you so much."

Tara lies on top of me for a moment longer, and then, kissing me, she gets up off of me to go clean herself up.

Wow. I don't think I could've asked for a more incredible experience.