Memories of the Bold Experiment

I am Ajfan, an Arab doctor who is in the embrace of her thirty-fifth year, married for seven years. Our emotional lives in our society are formed on the melodies of tradition, where a girl's first step into the world of feelings and love is drawn with marriage. However, it's no secret that some girls may feel attracted to males, get to know them, or even engage in simple intimate experiences that stay within the boundaries of kissing and touching. As for me, I ventured into a single experience on this path before marriage, an experience that continues to haunt me, to this moment, with its astonishment and shock. I can't truly believe that it happened.

I consider myself a model of authentic femininity. I'm a bit taller than most women in my community, standing at about five feet six inches. As for my weight, I'm not excessively slender, but I maintain a good balance between strength and fitness. Among the features I cherish in my body, my hips come first. They are full and sculpted, lending a special allure to my appearance, and instilling me with confidence and femininity. I love the sense of confidence my body gives me with every step I take in front of others. My waist sways beautifully, as though dancing to the rhythms of the wind, while my long black hair hangs on my full shoulders, like a waterfall of black silk, adding a touch of magic and romance to my look.

Ten years ago, I lived alone in a small apartment near the university campus, in a city far from my family. On that day, the sun was scorching the earth with its fierce rays, and upon returning from medical school, exhaustion had taken over my body. All I wished for was a cold shower to rejuvenate myself.

Standing under the shower, devoid of any clothing, I poured the cool water over my body. The water flowed over me, alleviating the heat, and I closed my eyes to enjoy the fleeting moments of relaxation. My hand roamed my body, tracing every fold and curve, and sometimes, in moments of solitude, I surrender to self-pleasure "masturbation", an act that provides me with added comfort and relaxation.

But on that day, when I opened my eyes, I froze in shock. The window was open, and there was a young man looking at me. Quickly, I dashed to close the window, and he, in turn, became flustered and stumbled. That day added a lot of excitement and strangeness to my life.

That man was our neighbor in the building, a figure I had encountered several times on the staircase. The bathroom window was large, its elevation not too high, and it was as if our neighbor had an unobstructed view of my naked form, as though I was standing right before him in all my vulnerability.

The situation, as embarrassing as it was, stirred a strange heat within me. Until that point, my sexual experiences were limited solely to the masturbation I often indulged in and my vivid imaginations. But that night, things shifted. As I fell into the familiar rhythm of masturbation, my mind was filled with the image of him with me in the bathroom. The imagined scenario ignited a potent desire within me, leaving me overwhelmingly aroused by the replaying scene.

Despite the fact that I had no real sexual encounters in my life, I considered myself courageous compared to the girls in my society who are shy when dealing with men. Personally, I never felt any embarrassment when communicating with the opposite sex.

On the following day, as I was leaving for college, I found him sitting in his car beneath the apartment building where I lived. I was wearing a simple blouse and a long skirt that swayed with the morning breeze. I couldn't contain myself when he looked at me, and I became intrigued to know this man who had seen me in my most vulnerable state. He addressed me with words filled with respect, "Doctor, may I offer you a ride?"

Curiosity overwhelmed me and prompted me to ride with him. But honestly, curiosity wasn't the only motivator. I was highly aroused by the situation, and my desire to engage in a sexual relationship was growing. The idea that a man had seen me naked stirred an intense desire in me for him to touch me. I had been aflame from the moment he saw me.

I climbed into his car with my usual audacity, saying, "I am late, but don't misunderstand." A man of attractive appearance, the rich scent of his cologne filled the car, the tightness of his white shirt emphasizing his strong muscles. His eyes shone a deep brown, like two tranquil lakes reflecting light in a captivating way. He exuded confidence from every move he made, which excited me further.

He replied, "I apologize for what happened yesterday, but frankly, it was hard for me to avoid." I retorted, "Well, since you saw me like that, you should have closed the window." He confessed, "I couldn't, honestly. Seeing you naked... was exciting."

I looked at him, ablaze with desire, and asked about his age and his major in university. "I graduated with a degree in pharmacy and work in a pharmaceutical company. I am twenty-eight years old." The masculinity in his deep voice found its way to my ear, increasing the arousal I was feeling.

Curiously, I asked if he had relationships with girls. "Just normal friendships and study mates," he replied. "I've always wanted to try it," I confessed. He echoed my words saying, "I haven't tried it either." I asked him, "Do you understand what I mean?" He nodded, "Yes, you mean sex. I saw you... touching yourself." I boldly declared, "I am very brave, aren't I?" He agreed, saying, "Not just brave, you're also practical. You see no problem in trying things out, and you believe there won't be any issue, especially since you perceive me as a good man."

His understanding of my intentions led me to ask, "Are you free today?" He answered, "I have to go to work now, but I'll be done by three in the afternoon." I told him, "I have one lecture and will be back in my apartment after about two hours. You should come visit me." He agreed, and we exchanged phone numbers.

I found myself thinking of him after we parted. Just as he left me awestruck when I first saw him, this handsome man with an athletic build, dark brown eyes reflecting the sun, and a smile that exuded confidence and calm. He certainly had a charm of his own, which heightened my arousal and expectations for what was to come.

I returned to my apartment around eleven, after buying hair remover. I used it to remove hair from my intimate areas, leaving my skin smooth and bare. I also bought new underwear, making sure to choose pieces that were comfortable and attractive at the same time. Once I finished preparing myself, I took a shower. By the time I was done, it was about one in the afternoon.

He called me at two, indicating that he had finished his work and would come to visit me. True to his word, about fifteen minutes later, he was at my apartment. He asked me if he could use my bathroom to shower first. I pointed towards the direction of the bathroom.

When I heard the sound of running water, a feeling of excitement overtook me. I quietly opened the door, undressed, and joined him under the warm water. The shower was simple, open, without a tub. We embraced under the warm waterfall, a pleasurable feeling tingling in our skin. I could feel his arousal, so I pressed it between my thigh and rubbed it against me.

Then he grabbed me from behind, his hands roaming over my body. Remembering my scene through the window, a finger playing in my rear, he seemed fascinated by my boldness. He tried to enter himself there, but I stopped him, saying, "No, it will hurt." He responded with understanding, "Okay, let's take things slow."

Despite the simplicity of the bathroom, the atmosphere was charged with excitement. We were completely naked, standing in the damp bathroom, warm water cascading over our bodies. My skin was soft and taut, my long wet hair clinging to my back. My breasts were firm and proud, and my waistline accentuated my feminine curves enchantingly.

His body was strong and toned, his visible muscles shimmering under the dim light. His brown eyes sparkled with desire, and the confident smile on his face added a special allure to the scene. His penis was strong and erect, a testament to his intense lust.

Sexual tension filled the bathroom, making the air crackle with desire. My soft, seductive movements complemented his strength and confidence. Desire was flowing between us, and every look and touch added to the excitement. Everything, from the emotional glances to the physical contact, was escalating the tension and lust. The simple bathroom had become a stage for intimacy and desire, where lust and longing intertwined in an exciting game of hints and allure.

He grabbed a towel, dried himself and then began to gently rub my body dry. The feel of the soft fabric on my skin, his careful and considerate touch, added another layer to the growing tension. We exited the bathroom, our bodies bare, expectations of what was to come tingling in the air..

-

We made our way to the bedroom, a private and comfortable space, with its soft colors, dim lighting, and plush bed. I laid confidently on my stomach, my legs spread as he sits behind me. He began to gently open my narrow and hot anus, his tongue exploring those sensitive spots between my legs. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, igniting a fire of desire within me. The arousal was more than I could bear.

Then he took his penis in his hand, teasing my anus with it. He was slow and cautious, entering with gentleness. My body was ready and welcoming from my previous self-exploration and the exploration of my fingers, allowing him to enter with ease. His penis slid in effortlessly, his breath hitching as he moaned in pleasure, his voice echoing in the room. My flesh felt soft and yielding, my body prepared for him. I began to ride him, lifting my backside to match his thrusts, each thrust sending a shiver of delight through me.

As we moved in harmony, I felt him becoming more tense. As if energy was building up within him, waiting for release. His pace quickened, his heartbeats were escalating, and his breaths became deeper and faster. And with every thrust, I realized that we were on the brink of climax.

We reached the peak, rendered speechless. He stayed inside me for a few moments after the thrusting, savoring the moment intensely. When he finally withdrew, his seed slid out of me, a testament to our shared pleasure. It was a sight that added another layer of intimacy to our experience.

Then I headed to the bathroom, the warm water washing over me, scrubbing away the remnants of those physical moments but leaving the untouched memories. The bathroom became a sanctuary for me, a place to collect myself and reflect on the intense pleasure we had shared.

As I stood under the pulsating shower, the water beating rhythmically against my skin, I couldn't help but reach down and explore the area where our bodies had so recently joined. I was still sensitive, still tingling from the pleasure we had shared. My fingers traced the intimate area, the sensation sending a jolt of residual pleasure through me.

The skin was slick and sensitive, still warm from our shared body heat. I could feel the echoes of his thrusts, the ghost of his hardness. I could feel the slight soreness, a testament to our ardor and passion, but it was a sweet ache, a reminder of the ecstasy we had shared. I pressed my fingers slightly, causing a small gasp to escape from my lips as a wave of pleasure washed over me. I could still feel him, feel the way he had filled me, stretched me. It was a sensation that made me shiver even under the heat of the shower.

The water washed away the physical evidence of our lovemaking, but it couldn't erase the memories, the feelings. My heart was still pounding, my breath still coming in short gasps. I could still hear his moans, feel his hands on my body, his weight pressing me down. I leaned against the shower wall, letting the water wash over me as I reveled in the feelings, the memories.

I closed my eyes, the water streaming down my face. I pictured him, his eyes filled with desire, his lips parted in ecstasy. I could almost feel his touch, feel him inside me. And with that thought, a smile played on my lips. It wasn't just the physical pleasure, but the intimacy, the connection we had shared. I felt loved, cherished, satisfied.

As the water continued to cascade over me, I knew that this was a moment, a feeling, I would treasure. The memory of our shared pleasure, our connection, was something I would hold close. And I looked forward to experiencing it again and again.

After stepping out from the shower, I found him cradling his great penis, that part of him that had just become the hero of this tale. He regarded it with expressions of pride and masculinity, as if he were recalling the great conquests of legendary warriors in his mind. We shared a moment of silence, our smiles were mute, but they carried a depth of meaning that surpassed any words we could have said.

I moved towards him smoothly, my body flowing toward him like a warm summer breeze. I kissed the head of his penis of him quietly, in recognition of the role it played in our emotional scene. Then, my head settled on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart as it slowed down, like the tranquil notes of a serene love song.

Our conversation began, our words brimming with introspection and acknowledgment of the wild desire that stirred us. We didn't speak in the shy whispers of young love, but in the language of scholars, the language of those who truly understand sexual desire, hormones, and the powerful forces coursing through our veins. It was a refined and educated moment, rare under such circumstances, but it gave the moment a special flavor, something we will never forget.

Despite the raw power and passion that ignited between us, this was not just teenage feelings. It was deeper than that, more complex, as intricate as true love and desire. It was a unique, intimate, extraordinary moment, a moment we will keep in our hearts and minds forever.

In the successive days following that emotional event, the landlord cast shadows of concern over my life, as he asked me to leave the apartment for his personal reasons. Thus, I was forced to look for a new refuge, and I settled in a distant place, sharing a residence with two colleagues from medical school. Despite the distance, our echoes continued to meet through the ether of the phone, where we shared intimate moments via phone calls. But time was not our ally, our paths diverged due to the demands of study and work, and finally his move to another city extinguished the hope of continuing our relationship. Since that day, I have found no one who possesses the respect and sophistication he had.

And after I stepped towards stability, entering into the marriage contract, the circumstances allowed me to have a new experience with my husband by exploring an intimate relationship from the perspective of anal intercourse. However, that night, I was extremely shy, as if I was trying this for the first time, as if no one had touched me in this way before. Even with my husband, this did not repeat. Only twice in my entire life, my backside has been graced by a man's semen.