Mark & Nia: A Tutored First Time

Now I'd heard of blowjobs, and maybe even seen a picture or three (remember, this was 2005 and porn wasn't so easily accessible). And while I was pretty sure that's not what it meant, it felt incredible. First it was cool, blowing on and around the head, then becoming warmer as her breath warmed the fabric and my dick below. That made me thrash about a bit, and made my cock twitch again in a pre-orgasmic jerks.

"Nia...... No mouths yet." At the word yet, which was spoken plainly with no emphasis at all, a vison popped into my head of my sweetheart with her succulent lips just touching that part of me, my dick running lengthwise through the valley of her lips. How delicious that would be just to see, let alone feel! My dick throbbed twice more, nearly touching Nia's lips, which she hadn't moved yet.

Then Nia leaned back like she was supposed to be, fondled my testicles a bit more, then with the pads of just her first two fingers, began another wickedly slow traverse up the length of my dick. Not a lot of excitement between base and head, though that still felt good and was wonderful to watch, especially seeing Nia pensively biting her lower lip while looking at the outline of my penis.

But as she neared the head the anticipation grew. And grew. And grew. My cockhead seeming to grow physically larger with it. With her two fingers directly on that most-sensitive spot just below it, Nia paused for a few moments, feeling the twitching, before moving over the lip to the head. I nearly came at that moment, and I think Nia sensed it, my breath coming in ragged pants, the pads of her first two fingers still planted on the tip of my dick.

Then moving back down, without releasing pressure, she went back to that spot, only this time lightly moving her fingers back-and-forth, lengthwise on my dick, easing the pressure until it was only the silky material rubbing that part of me, then with more pressure until I could feel the imprint of her individual fingers, then lightly again, and......ohmygodthatfeelsgood!

I tried to restrain myself, because I was embarrassed about feeling like a stallion in heat, mad over the pleasure she was driving into my dick, not wanting it to end, but not being able to bear it continuing!

I thought then of her beautiful body, so soft and supple, so lithe and firm, so innocent yet so sensual. I thought of coupling with her, whatever that might feel like, buried in her, hearing and feeling her orgasm beneath me, spasming inside her as my own pent-up desire for her exploded. Holding, squeezing, melting, melding, becoming my lover in an infinite moment of love and joy and rapture.

I was thinking all these delirious things, willing myself to come, when Nia did the most wonderful thing, something I'd found out myself much earlier that I enjoyed. With finger and thumb she lightly pinched that spot just below the head, just a light pinch at first, grabbing just fabric, which made it slide delectably across that pleasure center. Next she expanded the pinch to include some skin, the expanding more until the pressure of her thumb and finger went through the skin and asserted themselves on the solid core of the shaft.

Then back out to just skin, then to just fabric. Then another fabric, so two in a row, then two skins in a row, then two harder pinches on the core. And when I say "pinch," I mean to include the sliding/ejection part too: like pinching something smooth and cylindrical, maybe a fat highlighter, between your fingers and "shooting" it out. That's what she was doing in the last phase, pinching the core, forcing it out past the skin, but keeping the skin trapped at the end of the motion. Then with the skin, just trying to lightly grab it and pull it tight around the core.

Anyway, I was going mad, thrashing about like crazy. In my love and lust I shot my right hand around Nia's back and pulled her tight, trying to hold her close to my side, to feel her, to squeeze her, to let her know the intensity of what she was doing to me.

At that point, when I was so, so close, Nia did something that put me over the edge. She wrapped her hand around my cock just below the head and squeezed. That was it, I was a goner. With a guttural unintelligible sound I arched up from the bed, simultaneously pulling Nia to my chest with my arm on her back, and.....came.

And came, and squirted, and thrusted, and yelled, and froze, and squirted and....somewhere in there Nia began licking my nipple, tracing circles around it, which started me back at zero, with new squirts/spasms to equal the first ones. Then more pumping, groaning, crying out, squeezing her close to me, kissing her hair, thanking her, throbbing again, pumping again, cupping her cheek, and finally, tears.

Tears of pure joy, tears of love, tears of being accepted, tears of being liked-if-not-yet-loved. Tears of my first real experience with a girl, tears of thanks to Candace and Keisha who'd gotten me to this point and made this all happen. Tears of.....probably 10 years of wondering if a girl would ever enjoy doing this with me. Or if I could please her.

And here was my adorable Nia, still holding and slowly stroking my deflating dick, the material soaked through with my seed, still gently suckling at my nipple. Murmuring, cooing to me, making me feel accepted, wanted, desired. Letting me know that she was there for me, that she'd done this for me, and that she'd enjoyed it too.

And amazingly, I didn't have the feelings of guilt as before with the girls after I came. I wasn't ashamed or embarrassed. What I'd just shared with Nia, and what I'd done for her before, were natural expressions of attraction and desire and tenderness between two people who knew and respected each other. I think that was the difference from before with Candace and Keisha: the knowing. [Mark and "the girls" hadn't touched at all, only watched each other.]

I sort of knew Candace and Keisha, but I didn't really know them as I now knew Nia. Even though I'd only known her this one evening, I'd learned so much from talking to her, enough to piece together her childhood, her growing up, her likes & dislikes, some of her hopes and dreams, her plans for the future.

And beyond that was the physical, the holding hands, the communicative squeezes, the meaningful looks deep in her eyes, the wonder of exploring her body and she mine. Learning each other, empathizing with each other, being tender to each other, expressing caring (if not yet love) for each other.

I had almost none of that with Candace and Keisha. I thought they were nice, but what did I know about them beyond that? Only that they had bangin' bodies and were willing to 'play' with me.

It was this very realization, at this moment, when I knew that that would never be enough for me. If I didn't have a connection with a girl, at least a basic-level knowing of her, and she me, then sex with her would be nothing like it had just been with Nia.

Oh, I could probably go through the motions with no one being the wiser, but that to-my-core, into-my-soul intensity I'd just felt with Nia would be missing.

And that would be sad.

Rita let us lay like that for an indeterminable amount of time. Me on my back, exhausted, spent, drowsy. Nia's right hand still wrapped around my penis through the boxers, her head on my chest, my right arm around her back, hand on her shoulder, left hand gently running fingers through her hair. Her legs intertwined with my right, my left calf sandwiched between her graceful calves.

Perfect bliss. Had I known a meteor was about to strike the hotel I probably wouldn't have moved. I want to die just like this, with you.

But all good things must come to an end, and Rita cleared her throat, somewhat startling me awake (and I think Nia too) and out of my revery.

"Alright, Romeo & Juliet, rouse yourselves and let's talk about what you just experienced."

Nia moved first due to the logistics, letting go of my manhood, wiping her hand on the lower part of my shorts. As she rose she must've seen a bit of drool on my chest, which she self-consciously wiped away. Once she cleared me I was able to sit up, Rita passing me a hand towel to cover my shorts.

With Nia and I sitting side-by-side on the edge of the bed, legs and torsos touching, holding hands again, Rita asked us to describe in one word how we felt about the orgasms we'd each just had, back and forth:

"Fantastic." "Intense." "Soul-moving." "Bonding." "Connecting." "Explosive." "Caring." "Tender." "Thebestthingever!" The last one was Nia, cheating 4 words into one.

"Excellent! Do either of you feel any shame about what you've done?"

We looked at each other, and I didn't see any shame or guilt in her eyes, nor did I think there was any in mine. We both turned back toward Rita with shy smiles and timid Nopes. And simultaneously squeezed each other's hand.

"Good, and you shouldn't! What I saw was two young people doing what comes naturally, perhaps what God intended them to do with their bodies. But there was an extra intensity, wasn't there?" Nods.

"Mark, I know you felt it. Can you describe to Nia what you felt in that moment, and as you laid together afterwards?"

I won't bother you with my dialogue, because much of it was halting, even incoherent, but I tried to describe to her all the feelings I expounded on above. The doubt in my ability to please a woman (she blushed at woman), some doubt in my ability to perform with one, the relief when it had all worked out. The infinite tenderness I felt toward her, the sort of cosmic connection, and the idea that I could've died in her arms like that and been utterly content.

I tried to leave out any notion of 'love' per se, because I knew that was probably just my emotions and hormones running high, and I didn't want to scare her away. Or worse, confess it (or something just short of it), only to find that it wasn't reciprocated.

"Very good, I thought you probably felt those things. It's natural and healthy, and really beautiful."

"Nia, how did you feel? Both when you were the receiver and the giver. Do you echo many of Mark's feelings, or want to share any different ones of your own?"

Nia agreed with everything I said, and her manner, her tone, her looks at me, led me to believe she even shared some of the depth of feelings I had for her. That if it wasn't truly love, it wasn't just lust either. She compared this experience with those she'd had in the past with boys, those who hadn't known her much, who weren't interested in giving her pleasure, but only wanted to paw at her, play with her like a toy. In short, getting themselves off without regard for her pleasure or feelings.

"Excellent! I'd hoped one of you would bring that idea up, that comparison. Because right? When you feel a real attraction to someone, to their mind, to their desires, to their needs, and not just their private parts, then the lovemaking is infused with so much more meaning, isn't it?"

We both agreed, me thinking back to when my foster sister had me pawing at her, trying to satisfy only her needs, with no thought for my feelings or wants. Just assuming I was a boy, so of course I'd go along. But I wasn't wired like that, I couldn't do it like that, anonymous and purely sexual. This though, this connection that Rita had so intricately woven between Nia and I, this is what I needed.

I told Rita and Nia that in so many words, tearing up as I did. (I've always teared up easily, eyes getting watery, that tickling pain in the bridge of the nose.) Nia reached around me with both arms and gave me a strong, long hug, which I returned. And Rita was uncanny in her ability to read people, because when even I was thinking, Okay, we should probably break this off, she spoke up.

"Lovely, you two are so good together! I'm really enjoying watching you blossom in your confidence and sexuality. But Mark, off to the shower with you now! Throw your shorts in the trash, I brought you some new ones. And there's a toiletries kit for you with some necessities. Get yourself nice and clean and smelling good for your lover."

I was surprised by Rita's preparations, but then realized that she knew all along she was going to bring me back here! Or had a pretty good idea, anyway. And the 'interview' was mostly a ruse, maybe just to keep me guessing? Candace probably had a large part to do with that, artfully 'selling' Rita on me, talking up my good points, that she wouldn't be disappointed, etc. That thought made me proud of myself.

But whatever Candace's role, or whatever the reason for Rita's trust in me (was it intuition?), I was glad they'd brought me to this place and time where I was blessed with getting to know Nia like this. Which then had me wondering, Just how many times has Rita done this? She said she was doing research for her Master's degree, after all. And with interracial couples, no less!

But with a, "Go, go, go," I was shooed off to the shower. Forgetting all those previous thoughts, I kissed Nia on the lips (it seemed like the right thing to do) and headed to the shower.

I found the toiletries kit with shampoo and a bar of soap, ditched the boxers, and hopped into the shower. I'd cleaned up down there and soaped all over and was shampooing my hair, eyes closed, when I heard the shower door slide open. Peeking with one eye (I hate getting soap in my eyes), I saw Nia stepping in, looking bashful yet playful.

In almost a whisper, "Miss Rita said I should come join you, since I need to shower too. And it would be fun for us." Giggles as she closed the glass door behind her.

How exciting, my little Nia joining me in the shower! But then I wondered what we were 'allowed' to do in here alone together, and I must've backed away from Nia when she approached me.

"It's okay, Rita said we could soap each other up and....touch each other all over, except the genitals."

I think I said, "Woo hoo!" And my hands, still soapy from shampooing my hair, went straight to her breasts, covering them, rotating atop them, doing circles around them, soaping them up. Then as my fingers were about to directly engage her nipples, I thought to ask, pausing mid-motion, "Is this alright, Nia?"

"Yes, silly! I like it, it feels wonderful."

Then as my hands continued their play, both nipples between thumbs and forefingers, "I'm glad you like them." Pause. "I'm glad you like me."

That stopped me in my tracks and made me abruptly stop thinking about her sexually. But rather as a person, maybe a timid little girl who'd been looking for acceptance, the same as I was. And it made me feel guilty for attacking her breasts as I'd done, though I'd meant no harm.

I had an upwelling of tenderness for her, that urge to protect her and never let her get hurt; certainly never get hurt by me. So I instinctively grabbed her face in both hands, still a little soapy, and looked into her eyes, saying all the sorts of things that by now you'd expect me to say about respect and gratitude and tenderness. And then I kissed her, just gently on the lips.

She broke off the kiss rather abruptly and pushed herself into my chest and body, folding herself into my arms, which I squeezed about her as tightly as I dared. I thought she was crying but didn't want to ask or even mention it. I just held her until she lessened her grip on me.

Then she looked up at me, tears definitely in her eyes, and mouthed/whispered, "Thank you."

My heart melted and I fell head-over-heels for her. We went back to the hug, but after a time I gently turned her around, enveloping her from behind, my hands clasped across her stomach, her bottom pressed into my upper thighs. I just held her like that, the hot water cascading over us, and whispered sweet nothings into her hair and ears, kissing the sides of her face at times.

You may wonder how my phallus wasn't in the way between her and me? It was because this wasn't a sexual moment. I wasn't thinking of having sex with this girl, my Nia. I was only thinking how I could make her feel accepted, wanted, safe, protected, even loved. It was a powerful moment for me, and I think for her too.

But after she'd had enough of that (and I could tell she'd been enjoying it by the way she pressed herself into me, wrapping her arms over mine, murmuring and purring), she slowly disengaged and told me to turn around so she could wash my back. She did a thorough job on my back and legs, spending longer than probably necessary on my butt (which in later years I was told by women was cute).

After she rinsed me off I told her it was her turn, so I traded places with her, putting her under the showerhead, facing the gentle spray, then soaped up her back. But of course I had to get her bottom too, as she'd done mine, and the backs of her legs, and here I started becoming sexually interested in her again. It's only natural, right?

So with her back covered in soap, I freshened up the lather in my hands and began to soap up that beautiful little bottom. Ohmygosh it was divine! More so because I could actually put my hands on it, see it face-on. Which I hadn't done yet, with her or anyone. And much as I liked any kind of breasts, of course I liked most any kind of butts.

Hers was smallish, taut, smooth, firm, and somewhat protruding, not flat like the "white girl aesthetic." It felt magical under my hands, yielding to pressure, yet firm and springy, like those red rubber balls we used to play dodgeball with in PE. I'd occasionally run my hands up the full length of her back on both sides, massaging the tops of her shoulders, then quickly back down for more work on that butt of hers. Needless to say, Mr. Willie was becoming interested.

On my second trip up and back down, Nia spread her legs a little wider, indicating (I guess?) that I should wash back there more thoroughly. I took the hint and while moving my palms down both globes of her ass, pushed the thumbs a little deeper into the crevice between. That elicited a low moan and a further widening of her stance.

Realizing that with her being so short, and my wrists being at an uncomfortable angle when I hadn't even reached the bottom of her butt yet, I decided to kneel behind her. And that gave me a glorious view of that beautiful rump, eye-level when I squatted back on my heels.

I must've let out an appreciative sound, because Nia asked, "You like it that much?"

After hearing a "Heck yeah!" from me, Nia stood up on her tippy-toes and tensed her legs and butt, and oh my God, if I hadn't just come earlier, I might've then. Graceful-yet-sculpted calves, the hamstrings standing out on the backs of her legs, her quads defined out to the sides, then that incredible butt, tightened and lifted now into a nearly perfect ball, the crevice between tightly sealed by her powerful glutes.

I thought she'd mentioned before being a dancer, so I asked and she confirmed it. Asking her to hold that pose, I re-lathered my hands, and starting at her ankles with a firm grip, slid them up her long, graceful-yet-muscular legs. Over the firm calves with 'edges' on both sides, through the hollows of the backs of her knees, then onto the lower thighs.

Then to that place my eyes had first locked onto: where her glutes, the cheeks, emerged nearly perpendicularly from the tops of her thighs. With my hands flat against the backs of her upper thighs and slightly wrapping around them, the crescent between index finger and thumb fitted exactly into the place where those firm hemispheres abruptly attached to her legs.