Sex Booth Ch. 01: First Experience

My first time in a sex booth was on my twenty-first birthday. It's the same for everyone, with some allowance for menstrual cycles and illness. My appointment was at 10.30 in Block FH12, Booth 362, and I was so excited, so nervous, I arrived twenty minutes early and sat waiting nearby for my turn.

We all learn the basics of sex at school. A man's penis gets hard and thrusts in and out of a woman's vagina until the friction triggers an ejaculation. If conception occurs, the woman gets pregnant and gives birth after nine months. We learned also that women take anticonception meds until the age of thirty, and optionally thereafter. Regular sex (once per month from the age of twenty-one) is considered beneficial for health.

So I knew all that, but I'd never had actual sex, and it is forbidden to discuss sex with anyone. Sex is a private act, a moment shared between one man and one woman. To talk about sex outside of the sex booth is a violation of privacy and fundamentally disruptive to society.

Of course, that doesn't stop us whispering daringly with friends and colleagues about who has their turn. My friend, Red '43, is two years older than me. I remember how flustered and embarrassed she was after her first time, but each time thereafter, although the embarrassment persisted, she was noticeably excited about it on the days she had appointments.

And then it was my turn. Red '43 saw the anxiety in my eyes when we met for breakfast and she laughed. "Today's the day?" she asked, and I nodded. "Just follow the instructions," she said, "and try to relax."

There was no way I could relax. This was a huge thing. I had to request time off work, a necessary formality, including time to get to my appointment and time to get back. Three hours total. When I left work in the middle of the morning, everyone looked at me. It was so obvious to them all that I was on my way to have sex for the very first time. That a man would soon be putting his penis in my vagina. His sperm would try to penetrate into my womb in search of an egg to fertilise. It would fail.

It was such a strange thought. No man had ever even seen my private parts before, and now one would be penetrating mine with his own. Just the thought of him seeing that part of me was enough to make me anxious. In a way, the fact that we would be strangers to each other was helpful. I couldn't imagine exposing that part of me to a man I actually knew. Green '64, for example. He was an attractive man and I enjoyed talking with him, but if I met him in a sex booth, I would be too embarrassed ever to speak to him again.

My time. 10.30. "Red-23086-63-Libra to Booth 362," a voice called with the dispassionate tone of artificiality. I made my way to the door, and after a brief, final hesitation I let myself in.

It wasn't a big room, but it did have a very specific design and purpose. The lighting was subdued and the walls were clearly soundproofed. It was quiet, and smelled of a blend of disinfectant and some musky fragrance. In the middle of the room was a solid-looking, padded bench, with steel posts at one end. The tops of the two posts had some sort of stirrups.

"Please remove clothing and lie on the bench," the voice said.

I was alone so far. Despite being nervous, it was easy to follow the instructions. I removed my shoes and trousers, then my shirt and corset, finally even my underwear. To be naked in that strange room made me very uncomfortable, but I trusted the voice to lead me through the experience. I lay down on my back, looking up at my reflected self in the mirror ceiling.

"Place your feet in the stirrups," the voice said.

I had to shuffle along the bench until my bum was at the very edge before I was able to reach the stirrups, and when the stirrups fastened tight suddenly I cried out in alarm. Worse, the posts moved apart, forcing my legs to spread very wide into an open V.

"Stop!" I cried, my hands searching for some hold, but finding none.

"Please remain calm," the voice said, but I was about as far from calm as I could get.

Something hard and round pressed between my bum cheeks, pressing against that tight ring of muscle that was absolutely the wrong entrance. I tried to squirm away from it - when suddenly it hummed and vibrated, and the vibrations poured into me through that still-closed, forbidden entrance. I could feel even my breasts vibrating in response.

It was as thrilling as it was confusing. "Ohhnng," I said, giving up the fight and surrendering to the perverse pleasure.

A serpentine device lifted into view at my side. It arced over my belly and aimed between my legs, until I felt it poking gently at my most intimate part, above the entrance to my vagina. I wanted to tug the creepy instrument away, but before I could, it too began to vibrate, and right against that most sensitive spot. "Aaii!" I cried, but any thought of stopping these new vibrations was quickly forgotten.

The combined assault of the two devices was almost enough to make me forget why I was there at all. I had never been so sexually aroused before. My nipples were hard, and so in need of touch that I was soon rubbing them with restless urgency. My hips took on a life of their own in a quest to intensify the vibrations somehow.

Above me, my reflection showed me squirming on the bench, my hands grabbing my breasts, a metal serpent poking between my thighs, a vision not merely of nudity, which itself was shocking, but of overt, sexual desire. It was as if I had been reduced from thinking human to animal obscenity. I didn't have the strength of will to control my body's lewd abandon.

A door opened. Not the one I had entered through, but another that was visible through the V of my legs. A man entered the room. A naked man. About forty years old, at a guess, a bit of a belly, dark hair. No one I knew. Not my type. Definitely a man, though. He had a penis.

I had never seen a penis before, except for diagrams in books. The real thing was ugly and limp, but as the man stood watching me, watching me squirm in response to the vibrations despite my renewed effort to control myself, his penis hardened, became erect. His eyes were focused not on mine, but on that most cruelly exposed part of me that no man had ever seen before.

My instinct was to cover myself there with my hands, and indeed I reached halfway there before realising how pointless it was to hide from him the very part of me I had come to surrender.

"Insert cock into cunt and proceed to completion," the voice instructed.

My eyes widened in shock. I had heard these words whispered before, but they were crude words, almost violent. They were words that reduced us to parts instead of emotional beings. As if the man were nothing more than an extension of his cock, and I nothing more than an extension of my cunt.

The extension stepped closer, until I could feel the cock brushing my blonde, pubic hair. Abruptly terrified of what was to come, I froze in place, tried to pull away. "Don't..." I whispered.

But the vibrations increased in intensity, washing away my resistance, and a moan of guttural need escaped my lips. His cock pressed between my tender folds, searching for the entrance to my vagina, to my cunt, and I thrust against him with my hips, my body impatient for something my mind still denied.

Pressing harder, the way blocked within. My hymen the final guard against this sexual union. Pressing harder... until with an abrupt, sharp pain he was in, the head of his cock stretching my cunt wide, a sensation unlike anything I had ever known.

I would rather he had stayed still at that moment, allowed me to adjust and understand what I was feeling, but having gained entrance, he grinned with delight and thrust in hard. Almost as if taking my cry of complaint as an encouragement, he eased out and thrust in again harder, deeper, and then again, and again.

He settled quickly into a harsh rhythm of deep thrusts, each one an impact of wild sensation I was unable to process. Far from enjoying it, I held on for dear life as cock slammed repeatedly into cunt, and intense vibrations poured through me still from the devices. The whole prolonged event became a blur of intense, invasive motion that was at once pain and pleasure. I stared at myself in the mirror, my whole body rocking from the force of his thrusts, my breasts bouncing as if they at least enjoyed the experience.

Breathing heavily, the man slowed, and his cock seemed to grow within me as he thrust awkwardly. He seemed determined to reach still deeper within me...

He gasped and his cock pulsed powerfully inside me, and by the tickling I felt I guessed that his sperm was making its way to my womb. His cum. That was the word they whispered. His cum.

And then he was done, pulling out of me. With a weary grin, he finally looked at me properly, his eyes meeting mine briefly. "Thanks," he said, then turned and left, the door closing behind him.

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be alone again. But my ordeal was not over. The vibrations, which had been gentle for a while, built gradually in strength. I moaned with frustration, but they felt so good. No longer having to worry about the man, I gave myself over to pleasure, massaging my breasts, squeezing my nipples, thrusting with my hips against the devices.

I'd had a man's cock in my cunt. I still had his cum in me. I was no longer a virgin. I'd finally had sex. I knew what happened inside the sex booths. I was a woman now truly. But there was something more that I needed, something my body craved as the tension within me built until I was sure I would tear apart.

I could see it in my reflection. There was nothing left of me but pure animal lust. "Please," I begged. "Please!"

And my prayers were answered. The vibrations drove me at last to some threshold at which need and ecstasy balanced perfectly, a timeless moment of blissful divinity, that gave way to fierce contractions of my body and waves of pleasure radiating from some point deep within.

The vibrations faded slowly, and the devices retreated, and at last the posts returned to their original place. My ankles were released from the stirrups, and I was able to sit up, exhausted and still trembling from echoes of that orgasmic release. There was cum leaking from me, mixed a little with blood, and I was wet like never before. I hadn't thought to bring tissues or anything, and nothing was provided in the room.

Wanting nothing more than to sleep, I dressed instead, hoping my cotton underwear would absorb sufficiently until I could clean myself properly. I felt bruised and tender within, but also profoundly relaxed in a way I'd never felt before.

And somehow the whole experience had lasted only twenty-five minutes. I left the room to discover the world had barely noticed my brief absence, but I felt almost like a different person as I made my way back across the city to my workplace, to the floor where I worked, and again everyone stared at me as if they knew exactly where I had been and what had happened.

As if they knew I had a man's cum leaking from my cunt into my soaked underwear.

They said nothing. I said nothing. Because no one talks about sex.

Even when it's all we can think about.