The First Time

"I can't believe it myself. I never even had it before, but I can't believe it was that good. You were incredible, Alice."

We still had three weeks until I went home, and, rather than just letting that one incredible afternoon remain a single entity, Alice asked me a question the next morning that caught me by surprise, a pleasant surprise that is.

Over breakfast, she asked, "Do you want to do that again? I mean, it would be a shame for us to have all this time alone and not use it. I'm going to want you again. What about you? Do you want to go to bed with me again?"

Needless to say, I answered in the affirmative.

The following Friday afternoon, she got back a little later than she had before, and I found out why. She had stopped to by a new bathing suit and after changing out of her business suit, she walked into the living room wearing a plain white T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts.

"John, it's been seriously hot the last few days. I thought we might hit the pool tonight. What do you think?"

Just after the sun went down, we headed out back. I was already wearing my swim trunks, but she took off her shirt and gym shorts and showed what she had bought earlier that day. Alice was sporting a purple bikini, and confessed to me days later that she hadn't worn a two-piece since she had been about thirty. It had only been one-pieces after that. But we splashed around for a while but we both knew what we were really doing there. Alice ducked underwater and resurfaced right in front of me, wrapping her arms around me and kissing me deeply.

"Let's make love, John. Take me inside. Take me to bed and have me. I want you. I want to feel you inside me."

I kissed her back, and feeling as though I had the initiative, slid my hand down her purple bottoms and began fingering her clit. She sighed lightly and my hand moved faster.

"Oh John, my god. You really want me, don't you? I want it. Take me inside and make love to me..."

"Oh, it's too late for that," I replied.

"Too late for what?"

"Too late to go inside. I want you right now." I reached around her and untied her top, letting it float away. Before Alice even realized what was happening, I reached under the water with my other hand and untied her bottoms.

"You want me in the pool? I've never done this in a pool before."

She pulled off my trunks and began stroking me as I kept massaging her clit, the warm water obviously increasing the sensation for both of us. She backed against the side of the pool, letting her legs flow to the surface as I held her by the waist and proceeded to go down on her. I kept it slow and she kept her volume down, but when her whole wet body shuddered, I knew she had orgasmed. The warm water of a heated pool and the fairly hot night air made the whole scene somehow more erotic. I kept at it until she came again, and I could tell by the heavy moisture on my tongue that she was incredible aroused. I stopped and let her feet touch the bottom of the pool again. It took her a few seconds to regain composure.

"My god, John," Alice uttered. "You really want me right now, don't you?"

"Yes...yes I do." Without warning, I took her legs and pulled them upwards, wrapped them around me and slowly entered her. She bobbed up and down on the water, leaning forward to kiss me several times. We went for several minutes, during which she came more than once, before I came inside of her. But the evening wasn't over. After a little more splashing around, during which she made no attempt to recover her bikini, we climbed out of the pool and collapsed on a couple of padded lawn chairs.

On another night, about a week later after I got back from an afternoon of hanging out with a friend of mine, I walked in, dropped my car keys on the kitchen counter, and walked into the living room to see if Alice was there, hoping that perhaps, she might be in the mood. I found that she had, in a sense, beaten me to it.

Alice was lying on the couch, wearing a pair of red panties and nothing else, furiously masturbating and using her other hand to massage her nipples.

"Wow, Alice...you're..."

"I was waiting for you. I got so wet thinking about you." Alice kept her eyes firmly fixed on mine as she increased her speed, working her hand in her panties until she yelped in orgasm.

"Come upstairs with me, John. I want to make love."

So it went. We made much use of our time at her house. We had sex in the pool, and in the lawn chairs near it, and in the hot tub several time. We showered together, made love on the couch, and during this time, she taught me a great deal. I learned a lot about pleasing a woman, and by the time I went home, I felt like an expert. For the rest of that summer before going off to college, I thought about that month at Alice's house a lot, wondering if sex could ever be like that again, and if I could ever please a woman as much as I pleased her. Alice came over to my folks' house a time or two, and I would state that we did a good job keeping up appearances. We didn't glance too long or anything of that sort. But I wondered if she thought about that time at her house as much as I did.

A week before I went off to college and to the next phase of my life, I began saying what few goodbyes needed to be said. I hung out with a couple of friends and so on, but one night, I told my folks I was going over to a friend's house for while to play video games and so on, and my folks, obviously, didn't give the matter a second's worth of thought. The sun had already set as I pulled into Alice's driveway. I needed to see her one last time, if for no other reason than to thank her for making a man out of me, and for everything she had taught me, which, I hoped, would carry me far when I actually managed a few dates and perhaps some carnal experiences in college. I had a great deal for which to be thankful, and time had more or less run out to express my gratitude.

I rang the doorbell, with Alice answering a few seconds later. She was wearing her business suit apart from her suit jacket and her usual pumps.

"John? What brings you here?" She stood aside to let me in and closed the door behind me.

"I'm heading off to school in a couple of days. I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for everything."

Alice led me to the living room couch where we sat down. She took my hand in hers.

"I'm thankful too, John. Sex with you was amazing. I needed it, and I keep thinking about how it was with you. I still masturbate a lot thinking about you. No matter what happens, I'll never forget the feeling of you inside me."

"After I go off to school, I don't know if I'll ever see you again, but I wanted you to know that you were incredible. I'll definitely apply what I learned from you."

Without warning, she leaned forward and kissed me for several seconds. "John, we should make love one last time, if you want. Take me upstairs. I want you to do everything you did to my body that first time. Come upstairs with me. I'm getting so horny right now."

In a matter of seconds, I went from normal to full mast, and I eagerly followed her upstairs where we made love, doing all the same things, and in the same order, as we had our first time together. Afterwards, we lay in bed, with me staring at her naked body, knowing that every woman I would ever sleep with would automatically be compared to Alice. I kissed her several times before I got up to get dressed and head back home.

"Alice, it was a hell of a time. Again, thanks for everything."

Alice winked as she worked her hand down her stomach. "I'll be thinking about you."

And that was it. I was off to college and Alice Pike became a memory, and certainly among my favorites.

There is a post-script to this story, that requires telling in minimal detail.

My freshman year of college, I somehow felt more confident, and I knew that I had Alice to thank for that. I didn't fade into the background as I had in high school. I was more outgoing, smiled more, and that paid dividends. I got together with woman I shared a class with. She was Rhiannon Shaw (another alias), my age, with brown eyes and light brown hair, and we seemed to hit it off and began dating for a while. After a short span of time, it was decided that it was time to consummate our relationship, but with roommates, we had to find someplace for the occasion, so I sprung for a hotel. Rather than get bogged down in details it should suffice to state that I used just about everything I learned that month with Alice. Rhiannon was utterly surprised (as her faced showed repeatedly) at the things I did to her, how well I did them, and for how long.

The next morning, she said to me, "Well, fuck. That was insane, John. I expected that it would be some major fucking, but that's not what you did. We didn't fuck. We seriously made love."

"Yeah, well that's the only way I know, and the only way I care to."

"Well fuck me, where did you learn all that?"

"Here and there." That was all I said.

We were still dating my sophomore year when I took a weekend and visited my folks, just to say hi. My mother, in the middle of coffee, asked, "So John, you remember Miss Pike, right? Alice Pike?"

I played it off as though I only remembered her somewhat. After all, she was a co-worker of my mother's who showed up for dinner on occasion, right?

"Miss Pike? Yeah, a little. What's up with her?"

"She's married now. About six months ago. She and her new husband just put their house up. They're moving to his new job out west in California. She seems happy. Haven't seen her this happy since before her divorce. She'll be over in a few days to say her goodbyes. She's already quit at the office. Shame. She was a pretty good friend. At least she's happy now, huh?"

"Yeah, mom. We should all be so lucky."

"So, tell me John, how are things between you and that girl Rhiannon you've been dating?"

Rhiannon and I split up a few months after that visit and I had a share of one-night stands and short term relationships that meant little until I started dating someone else, someone who saw me through to the end of my college years, until she went in one direction and I went in another, as is the way with relationships in college. I had what can only be described as my fair share of sex in the few years that followed until I found the one who made me give up all the others. Her name is Shana Prince (which you've already guessed is an alias, I assume), and now, it's been ten years with her, as I was twenty-six when we got together. We have a house together but no kids, and not for lack of trying. I've done a fair job keeping her happy, including in the bedroom, and everything I learned that month from Alice Pike has proven extremely valuable in please Shana. When Shana once asked how I lost my virginity, just after she explained her own first time, I already had made up a few things, and said them to myself so many times and for so many years that sometimes I even can fool myself. That, as was intended, it what makes it so credible, but in the end, it was all just a story I came up with because everyone has a story about their first time, and I just needed something to say. The truth, in this particular case, I kept for myself.

But the truth is that I was made into a man by a woman named Alice Pike, who taught me so much about pleasing a woman, and gave me some of my greatest memories. I still think about her. How can I not? After all, no one ever forgets their first. And I do, as she said, remember every inch, every curve, every little feature of her naked body.

That was eighteen years ago now, meaning that, as I am thirty-six, it was exactly half a lifetime ago that I spent that month with Alice Pike. She would be sixty now, or thereabouts. I hope that she's still with that guy she married who took her to California. I hope she was happy. As much as I cherish that time I had with her, I know that there's something rather unfortunate that a woman in her early forties had to charge into a guest room nearly naked to begin kissing an eighteen year old. She deserved better than to have to resort to that to feel wanted. But because of how lonely she had been, and how badly she needed someone to go to bed with her, I believed then, and believe now, that she needed me as much as I needed her.

As I said at the beginning, you can choose to believe this story or not, or believe certain parts of it while regarding other parts as too unlikely. In truth, if I heard this same story from another, I doubt that I would believe it, so I don't blame the reader if this is regarded as nothing but a work of fiction, or perhaps retroactive wishful thinking. That being said, whether or not you believe this story is irrelevant. I have never once spoken of Alice Pike and that incredible month, not to my friends in college, not to any woman I slept with afterwards, not to anyone. Writing this is the first time I have related this story in any sense. Prior to this, it was all just a memory that existed in my mind, and perhaps, in Alice's as well.

No one ever forgets their first time. Everyone has a story about it, and few are particularly interesting, because the stories all sound too similar, and teller tends to lack the storytelling skills to distinguish his own story from a thousand or a million others.

But now you know mine, and I have told it in the detail that I believe it requires.

Perhaps the story, however, only means so much. Perhaps the rest is up to the one who tells it.

Take care, Alice Pike, wherever you are.