That First Time

I remember the first time we made love very clearly.

It was winter, and the house was - not cold - cool. It was late, and everyone else had gone to bed, but the two of us were still up, bundled under a blanket, and talking quietly between kisses.

We had been dating for several months at that point, but we were still a little afraid, I think, to decide how serious we wanted to be. Hanging over us was the fact that she was in the United States only on an extended visit to her brother, and that she was due - eager really - to return to Hong Kong in a few more months. Unspoken, but always present, was the knowledge that we needed to decide what our relationship would be soon; neither of us was certain whether we should spend more time together or break off immediately to lessen the eventual pain.

Neither one of us had a great deal of sexual experience. Although we both had dated others in high school and college, she was still a virgin. When compared to her, I was knowledgeable, but one college love affair does not a complete lover make. I did know enough to at least realize that she was not ready give herself to anyone until she was ready to make a commitment; I managed, somehow, not to pressure her about it. We had kept our relationship on a light, flirting, level, the highlights being the slow good night kisses at the end of each date.

That night, though, the longer we talked, cuddled, and kissed, the harder it was to part. I could feel her pressing tighter against me; I was acutely aware that all she had on was a flannel nightgown. When she straddled my leg and began to unconsciously rub up and down on it as we kissed, I realized that she was just as excited as I.

I pulled back until I could see her face, and asked her "Are you ready to make love with me?"

She lowered her eyes, and seemed to struggle with herself. Finally, she whispered "I don't know - but if you told me to come to bed with you I would."

For a moment, I was very tempted. I had wanted her since we first met, and she was telling me that she would let me decide. But if I had learned anything about her at all, I knew that she would not take an affair casually; it was just too easy to hurt her if I took her offer. Slowly, regretfully, I shook my head. "No. I want you very much, but you yourself aren't sure. I would rather wait until you know that you are ready. I think we had both better go to bed; I don't know how long my self-control will last."

I could tell I had guessed right by her expression, which blended disappointment and relief in equal measures. She leaned forward, gave me a light kiss, and climbed the stairs to her room. More slowly, I went down the stairs to mine.

Though I went immediately to bed, my mind - and body, damn it - was still wide awake. For over half an hour, I lay looking up at the darkened ceiling, not sure if I felt good due to temptation declined or stupid for the same reason. No matter how many times I reasoned it out, I came to the same conclusion - to push her before she was ready would almost certainly hurt her. Unfortunately, you can make the right decision and still feel terrible.

Suddenly, I came fully alert; I heard a light scratching at the door. I opened it to see her. She looked determined, excited, and frightened, in just that order. "I've decided." was all she said.

For all of our flirting and kissing, I had never seen her without clothes. Now, she pulled off her nightgown rapidly, as if to prevent second thoughts from stopping her. Her panties followed with equal speed. Though she was blushing, she held her clenched hands at her sides and stood erect, then slowly turned to give me a full view.

I could have given you a good guess, before, about how she looked without clothes - slender, golden skin, long dark hair, small, firm breasts. What I couldn't have predicted was the details, and how she fit together into a graceful whole. And I would never have guessed that those small breasts would have supported such large - no, huge - red-brown nipples.

She shivered when I put my arms around her. It could have been the coolness of the house, or it could have been nervousness. Rather than guess which, I pulled her under the covers and held her until she was still. Soon, we were kissing once more, the only difference being the feel of skin on skin. This time, when she straddled my leg I could feel a warm wetness, proof that despite any nervousness she was as ready as I.

She giggled when I lightly kissed her breasts. Inexperienced as she was, she expected me to push right in, but I wanted her first time to be more than a quick fumble. Instead, I slowly began to explore her body with hands and lips.

Her skin was silky smooth, and warm to my touch. She shivered slightly as I began to kiss my way slowly down her body; as I neared her center, I could feel her legs tense slightly, and slowly relax as I continued past her hip and on down the outside of a leg. Another, stronger, giggle as I kissed her toes, and ticked her instep. I transferred my attentions to the other foot, and gradually worked my way up the outside of that leg. This time, she did not tense as much as I worked my way higher, so I took a chance and planted a light kiss at the base of her small pubic V.

The hair was sparse, soft, and only slightly wavy; inconsequentially, I remembered how puzzled she'd been by the phrase "by the short and curlies" in a movie we'd seen. This close, her aroma was intoxicating. She'd showered after dinner, but the smell of clean skin and soap overlayed with the musky-sharp smell of her arousal. I moved slightly lower, and slid my tongue tip up her folds to glance off her clit; before I could even register the taste, she shuddered and pushed her crotch into my face, hard.

What followed was almost comical. I was determined to take my time, and thoroughly explore her pussy. She was equally determined to grind it into my face as hard as she could; it was the first time she had ever experienced more than heavy kissing, it felt good, - and she was in no state to remember that I might like to breathe. I finally had to concede defeat; I could tell that her pussy was small, smooth, smelled and tasted wonderful, and was rather wet at the moment, but sight and even touch were not really functional. When I began to run out of breath at the same time that my jaw started tiring, I pulled back and started kissing my way back up.

When I got to face level again, I leaned forward to kiss her. When she tasted her own juices on my face, she gasped and began to pull away; suddenly fierce, I held her still and slid my tongue into her mouth. After a frozen second, her mouth opened, and I felt her tongue slide out to answer mine. If anything, the minor outrage had been transmuted into more passion; I could feel her wet pussy sliding up and down my thigh in rhythm with her kisses. We had built up a lot of tension over the last few months, and she seemed determined to release it all at once.

This time, I worked my way down with more confidence. The first time, I'd been afraid of going too fast, so I had given each breast no more than a light kiss. This time, I wanted to take the time to examine them in detail. Could the nipples really be as big as they'd seemed? I might as well admit a minor fetish right now: I've never really cared about breast size per se - I've dated girls ranging from boyish to buxom - but I've always found large or erect nipples extremely attractive. It's never been a big part of my fantasy life, and I've certainly never selected girlfriends because of it, but still . . .

My judgment wasn't wrong; if anything, they were bigger and nicer. Imagine a pair of small, but nicely shaped breasts. Give each breast a dark red-brown aureola in proper proportion. So far, everything had matched my imagination. But instead of the pencil-eraser sized nubs I'd imagined, I found myself facing a pair of erect nipples as large as the first joint of my thumb. I gave each a light kiss; her giggle turned into a gasp as I slid the left nipple into my mouth.

I nursed gently, then moved to the other breast, rolling the free nipple between my fingers. Urged on by her moans, I was soon firm, if not rough. I would have thought the way she had me tugging, twisting, and biting at her nipples was painful, but if I slowed she would whimper till I sped up again.

At first, all of my attention was focused on her breasts. Soon, though, I slid my left hand down to cup her mons. She was very wet, and began to press herself into my hand in time with the kisses, bites, and tweeks I was giving her breasts.

Almost without thinking, my middle finger began to stroke along the length of her slit. The outer lips had opened, and at the end of each stroke my fingertip glanced off the little nub at the top. From the sounds she was making, she was very near the edge. Instinctively, I slid my finger into her tight hole while fluttering her clit with my thumb. Instinct had been right; she bucked, cried out, and went limp. By the time she was coherent again, I was holding her in my arms.

For a time we cuddled. I really didn't expect more, at this point; she had already gone far beyond her previous experience, and seemed to be drained. I felt a profound tenderness, and a willingness to hold her as long as she felt the need. My own aching hardness, though not forgotten, lost all importance.

As limp as she had gone, I expected her to fall asleep. Instead, she began a slow examination of my body, as slow and meticulous as my examination of hers. Before, she had gone from shyness to need far too fast to take time for things like this; now, she had the time, and she seemed to regard my body as a marvelous toy. I was flattered by her gasp at the

size of my cock - I am of average size, but to her it seemed enormous.

Rather hesitantly, she took my cock into her mouth. She only had the vaguest idea about what to do, but she was an eager learner. Only her inexperience allowed me to keep from finishing then and there - and she was a quick study. Just before I passed the point of no return, she relented, and let the head pop back out of her mouth; gradually, the threatened eruption receded. She slid back up to kiss me; after a hug that threatened my ribs, she rolled onto her back and said "Now. Take me."

I supported myself above her, and placed the head of my cock against her entrance. Somehow, I made myself stop, and looked down into her eyes. I saw excitement, eagerness, and fear all mixed together. "Are you sure? I can stop if you're not ready." Her jaw firmed. "Yes! Do it now!."

I still can't fully describe what I felt when I first entered her. I could use all the old, trite, terms - hot, wet, tight, soft - but beside the physical, and much more important, was that she wanted me, and trusted me enough give me her virginity. Even through my passion, I felt a wave of tenderness, and protectiveness.

Paradoxically, that first entrance seemed both to last forever and be over instantly. I had worried about hurting her, but neither of us even noticed her hymen's breaking; we were both too absorbed in other sensations. All too soon, I was buried to my full length, my pubic hairs mingling with her scant crop. We both paused for a moment to absorb what had happened.

She brought the moment to an end with a murmured "so full," emphasizing it with a squeeze of her pussy; what she lacked in experience her natural aptitude more than made up for. I cupped a breast and kissed her, as slowly and lovingly as I could, before I began to move again. Our mutual need, held in abeyance by first-time tension, returned to the fore.

Whatever little self possession either of us had left was soon lost. Dimly, through a building orgasm, I was aware that she was moving with me, matching thrust with thrust. Once started, she seemed to have a need that exceeded my own. We were both past the point where subtlety, or gentleness, mattered. If it was possible for two people to force themselves into one, we would have done so. This time, when she came, I felt her pussy clench around me, tight enough I could barely move. With a final thrust, I joined her, my wordless groan blending with her cry of triumph.

"Was it like you expected?"

"No. If I'd known what it's like, I couldn't have waited this long."

"Just as well you didn't then."

A giggle. "You're right."