Our First Fuck

I will never forget the first time. It was early spring, the day was windy, and I was eyeing her like a foodie at a fine restaurant looking over the menu at an all-you-can-eat special. She was dressed in a seventies era short skirt, had long blond hair to her shoulders, and a smile that could stop a train. Her face like a young Michelle Williams, would brighten the day of any man who looked at it. I was as horny as a twenty-five year old could get and couldn't turn my head away from her for a second.

We talked trivia for a while, branched off into politics, then slid slowly and effortlessly into sex. She told me what she liked and I couldn't believe I was talking to the princess of my dreams about oral sex and how much pressure a man needed to apply with his tongue to make a woman scream out her orgasms. She said orgasms plural, meaning she always intended to have more than one. "Silly," she said, "to waste a day of fucking with only one orgasm."

I had never even talked that openly about sex with my college roommate who was a total deviant. I was in heaven, talking eating pussy with the most sought after female person on campus, and we weren't even naked yet. She was straightforward, knowledgeable, seemingly experienced, and willing to talk about things I only dreamed of in the privacy of my thoughts, in the middle of the night under the covers. She was simply perfect. We talked about 'fucking' and she laughed when I seemed at a loss for words and reddened a bit the first time I heard her say fuck. I had never even heard a woman say it, let alone talk about doing it.

When we got to my apartment, she didn't even hesitate, just started undressing me even before the door closed behind us. I was naked in less than a minute, and she was soon after. It quickly became a mutual undressing flurry next to the unmade bed as we each frantically removed the clothes of the other. I was pulling her skirt down as she was unbuttoning my dockers. As she was reaching into my jockey shorts I was pulling her panties over her hips. I was slipping off her bra as she was sliding my shorts down my legs. When our clothing was tossed into a jumbled pile next to the bed, we fell into a heap of our own on the mattress to arrange ourselves in a scramble of naked legs and roving hands, searching for any orifice or protrusion that cried for attention.

Her mouth found my hardness and my fingers located her wet and wonderful cleft and reached as far in as my hand could go: twisting, feeling, savoring the wet and wonderful world of her sweet and hungry vagina. In the most naturally positioned sixty-nine two people could move into, she held my erection between her lips and swabbed with an active and sturdy tongue around the girth, while I positioned myself at her opening with my mouth and explored her pussy, forcing my tongue to replace my fingers as deeply as I could physically make them go into the heavenly cavern.

When we finally repositioned ourselves and I luckily found myself at the entrance to her well-lubricated pussy, her legs opened, inviting me in, and I pushed with my hips and slid my erect penis slowly into her, bucking my body in short pulses against her belly, forcing myself deeper with each thrust. She matched my cadence and we fucked wildly for close to thirty minutes, until my energy began to lag and my endurance fell off rapidly. Like a marathon runner in the final stretch, I began gasping for breath and working hard to keep up with her remarkable sexual stamina. She fucked me with an energy I had never seen, and she squeeze her vagina muscles tight, holding me in as if not wanting to let go of my cock.

Before I came I fortunately pulled out and ejaculated on her stomach, and she rubbed it in gleefully and giggled as she tasted my semen, putting her fingers to her mouth. "You taste salty," she said laughing. I will never forget her sexy laugh, as it would have made me hard if I hadn't already been there.

We had fucked once, twice, three times before we slept it off for an hour or two, maybe three, but we went back at it with determined effort on number four. As we fucked my mind created future scenarios of wife-swapping, swinging, wife-sharing, cuckold adventures, public sex, exhibitionism, her fucking big-cocked black men for my entertainment, letting me watch as she devoured the pussy of a like-minded female friend, and all of the other sexual fantasies that had filled my mind up to that point of my life. I dreamed of fucking her for the rest of my life, and I pictured us in dozens of beds and positions stretching over the years.

I thought of sex with her in front of a large picture window as we looked out over New York City where thousands of citizens went about their daily lives not knowing or caring that we were fucking as we watched them. I imagined lifting her dress up as I fucked her from behind as we watched a train fly by on its way to Chicago, or Philadelphia, or Kansas City. I saw myself fucking her in a four poster bed in an elegant suite in the finest hotel in Paris. I imagined her on her back as I ate her out on a beach in Saint Croix while the sun went down and the tide came up.

I asked her as we fucked with her on top, as she said she preferred it, about her past lovers and she simply laughed. "There too many to talk about," she said with that wickedly sexy laugh and a smile that sent chills shooting through my entire body. I thought about that as she bounced over me, her pussy holding my erection like a glove, tight as a fist. I had to lift her off as I came, the sensation so intense I could hardly stand it.

We had fucked all afternoon, but then we rested, and broke for lunch and conversation, that once again worked itself back to sex. We talked of daring things we'd done, although it was mostly her doing them, and I listened to her laughing, matter of fact voice talk about exciting things she had done in exciting places with willing and interesting sex partners. After maybe an hour of rest, we resumed our sexual escapades with her stretching out on her back and beckoning to me with out stretched hands, offering her open legs and a splayed and eager pussy. Again I climbed on and slipped myself into her as quickly and deep as I could.

It is possible that time has elevated that afternoon to almost celestial proportions, but my memory, delusional or not, still ranks it as the best afternoon of sex in my life.

I thought of us as old people fucking in our home bedroom with a fire going in the bedroom fireplace and another burning in my elderly insides, but the first time was also our last. Our first time fucking was our last time, and I remember it as if it was yesterday.

I have not seen or spoken to her since, but I often wonder who she is giving wonderful first-time sex to and knowing that whoever he is, it will be a monumental afternoon or evening of incredible sex and he will remember it as I have all these years since as a wonderful time with an incredible lady, one who knows her way around a mattress, how to squeeze her pussy tight around a man's thickness, and how to make a grown man swoon. I hope she is well and is giving some lucky man his best-ever fuck in the bed of their choice.