My First Time

All I wanted was to go to university.

As you can imagine, in high school I was a simple guy, a bit different from the rest of the people where I grew up. I had always got along with every one in my class but I had a grand plan I wanted to go to uni & study business. Perhaps become an accountant or financial planner while my mates were interested in going to parties and getting drunk.

Of course I had a reason for this plan. You know poor country boy attempting to make something of himself; the kid with glasses , in the middle of the class room who's parents couldn't afford for him to attend the school excursions. Who always wore second hand uniform?

My Dad was a farm hand & my Mum worked in the supermarket, but they did give me one piece of advice; my parents told me that in order to get along in this life you need to dress well and look good. Now for me this was not a huge problem. You see I'm almost 6 feet tall and fairly well built; I stay in pretty good shape because I play basketball.

After year twelve I was admitted into the local university, I was elated. All the hard study and good grades had paid off. I could see my golden future laid out before me. Step one was uni then, as soon as I graduated I'd find a great job and then I would go about finding that nice woman who I could marry and live happily ever after with. My life was progressing quite nicely, thank you.

One of the first things that happens at Uni is "O-Week", which is short for orientation week. It's a time when first year students become familiar with university life and meet the various clubs etc. It's generally a four day affair which takes place on campus. However there is a town tour which ends with a little camping.

On day two we all gathered for our camp-out and tour of the town. Even though I had lived here my whole life I guessed it might be a nice way to get to know some people in my course. We all gathered in front of the library to meet the busses. There were about 200 students. Looking around I saw a collection of big buff footy players, scruffy surfie guys & a couple of Emo's thrown in for good measure. I was glad for my parent's advice to take care of myself and my appearance; I didn't stand out from the crowd, but I looked better than some kids!

The busses arrived, and the great mass proceeded to stuff themselves in. Not in any particular hurry I moved to the back of the second bus, and made myself comfortable. As the bus packed, a rather pretty girl started to make her way to the back to join me.

She wore a rather tight denim skirt, a singlet top, and black leather jacket; the exception to the rule of t-shirts and messed up hair. From this vantage I saw a rather shapely arse which made something inside of me stir.

It wasn't like I hadn't ever seen a girl before. I had dated some in high school. It just was, well, not in my immediate plan. But something about the way she moved was impressive. Her shape, her long flaming red hair, the smell of her perfume; I couldn't move, couldn't think. Something more primitive was trying to rest the controls of my life away from me, and I wasn't too certain I should give in. When she asked if she could join me, I stammered "yeah, sure", and she giggled as she sat down. "Hi" she said. My name is Lyndall

I couldn't stop myself from thinking about what it would be like to rub her thighs, or letting my hand run itself up to the hair between her legs. Would there be any hair? I knew a lot of girls got Brazilian waxes. Perhaps she was one of them?

After driving around town with the bus driver pointing out some of the pubs and cafes that the town had to offer we eventually reached the dock where our boat would be taking the first years out to the island.

Lyndall, was still Sitting very very close to me as she chatted away about her family and her friends in high school. I prayed to God that she wouldn't notice the erection that my jeans were barely concealing. Finally we alighted the bus and made our way toward the boat. As we stepped onto the gang plank Lyndall grabbed my hand. Holding hands was safe, but something inside of me was telling me that it wasn't. The boat was very crowded but we managed to find one seat. "You sit down first" she said with a giggle. Once I was she sat herself on my lap, holding on to me as the boat moved towards it's destination.

Actually the boat ride wasn't too bad; my mind having overloaded itself with the possibility that there may be more to life than computers and a cosy marriage in the distant future. I rubbed her back and told her about the place where I grew up; she held on to me and told me about her house in Sydney and how the waters in the ocean were so warm that she and her friends would go swimming nude in the on their way home from the pub.

Once the boat arrived, we were separated. We broke up into groups depending on our courses. Of course I was disappointed; for the rest of the day through lunch and dinner I hoped to meet Lyndall and hold her hand, but of course (my rational part told me) my purpose at Uni was to study.

After dinner there was a "campfire". With two hundred people attending it's rather hard to sit around a single fire and be cosy; and about an hour into this listening to kids talk about their HSC artworks and how they wanted to change the world with the unique insight they possessed, I quietly left.

Behind the campsite there is a flat grassy patch called "Lewis's Green." It also possessed one of the best views of the campsite and the river below. In full moonlight I made the trek to the river bank, where I found a rock and sat still, watching the water lap below me.

While contemplating the stars and my future I heard a twig snap behind me. Startled, I turned around. A dark figure worked it's way up the last 10 meters or so of grass and sat itself beside me, moon at it's back. Without a word, it started stroking my hair and face, relaxing me.

Lyndall! I was happy to see her again, as I missed her company from the morning bus trip. She stood over me, while stroking my hair, and started to work herself out of her singlet top.

I grabbed her hand. "Hang on," I said, "maybe we should talk. I've never done this before. Can you just sit here and talk with me a while?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, you just take my breath away. Sorry; I'm just new at this. Please forgive me. God you're beautiful." I was in overload; there were about a dozen things I wanted to tell her but that was the best I could do.

She sat down next to me and held my hand, and we talked some more. She had an interest in photography and I told her how beautiful the moon and river would be captured on film. I told her about the stars and how if you were patient you could make out the Southern Cross. She asked me about my lovers and I admitted there had been none; I was always interested in fulfilling my dreams. We laughed, and when she went to kiss me on the cheek, it seemed natural to kiss her on the lips.

She let her hands glide over my back and I held her and stroked her hair. She shivered when I ran my fingernails down her back, and experimentally, I let my fingers run lower and lower over her arse as well. I whispered in her ear, asking if she was alright, and she responded by tumbling us both over onto the grass, her on top.

She pinned me down with her hands on my elbows, and laughed. "I've got you now. What should I do with you?" "Uh, whatever you wish; you've got me, after all." To which, she started to unbutton my shirt and kiss my chest.

I worked her singlet top off and started rubbing the skin underneath. Her nipples felt hard against my bare chest, and she gasped quietly when I ran my fingers over them. Perfectly shaped, she held one to my mouth and I started licking it, first gently, then hard, pulling the entire nipple in with my mouth and pressed around the tip with my tongue.

Lyndall picked her weight off of my hips and worked her way around to start taking my pants off. I rotated towards her on my side and started rubbing her thighs. Allowing my hands to work their way up her tight little skirt, I found her pubic hair wet, though then I had no idea why.

After working my pants off of me, she noticed that I was wearing my batman undies. This made her laugh. I blushed with embarrassment -- I felt like such a little kid, but she told me not to be concerned as she rolled them over my slim adolescent hips. I'm circumcised just like my Dad but I knew that not many blokes my age were. Would she think I had an old fashioned cock? Would she think it was too small or laugh at my thick black pubes?

I need not have been concerned because straight away she licked my stiff cock, with her nose in my pubic hair she started sucking hard. What fragments of my mind that survived up until then had been blown, with the smell of her long red hair and her firm arse in my hands, my hard cock in her mouth and part ways down her throat.

She asked me then if I wanted to make love. I said yes, but secretly I didn't know how. "Don't worry; let me do the driving." She unfastened her skirt and let it drop to the ground; she took her little pink undies off and stuffed them into my pocket. Then she sat herself on me, slowly working me inside. Holding my wrists to the ground, she rocked her hips back and forth until I was all the way in, and rhythmically she brought herself up and down.

I was breathless. Lyndall smiled at me and shuddered, getting tighter and tighter around me with each rock. She rocked for several minutes, and then with some effort pushed her upright, brushing her hair upright and allowing me full view of her glorious tits. I reached up and grabbed one, then the other, and circled her tits with the tips of my fingers, spiralling from the outside to the nipples. It seemed forever she rocked on top of me, both of us moaning and not caring who found us there, until I exploded, and for a moment her face shined in something more than moonlight.

I asked her "Why me?" at some point during our lovemaking, and she laughed, saying "Your cute, and I liked the way you tried to cover your shyness on the bus." After our lovemaking I held her in my arms and ran my fingers down her back. By this time it must have been midnight; the moon now low over the hills, and she snuggled close, spoon fashion; this time for warmth.

My hands fell on her stomach, and I drew circles around her bellybutton and across the top of her pubic hair. Turned on by this I bit the back of her neck softly, and ran my fingers up and down from her chest to her crotch. Her back arched, pressing her arse against my now stiffened member. Grabbing it, I pushed it forwards and in, brushing her clit with my fingers in the process. "May I drive this time?"

She arched her back even more, reaching around and grabbing my arse to help me in deeper. I held her, one arm around her stomach, and the other arm propping her head up and holding her close. We rocked, I driving myself even deeper and deeper as she moaned. I was sure we must have been heard, but I really didn't care; the only thing that mattered was this sexy girl in my arms, and driving her as wild as I could.

She broke out in a cold sweat all of a sudden, and I felt wetness down below that wasn't from me. She then gasped, and her grip on my arse tightened as I exploded again, clamping down on my teeth to keep from yelling at the top of my lungs.

We met every night on that trip; each time in a different location near the campsite. She taught me the fundamentals of sex, her shapely body infinitely adaptable to all of about a dozen different positions. And as we sailed back to the mainland back to school proper we held each other at the front of the boat, her arm around my waist and on my arse, and my arm around her body, hand inside of her leather jacket.

It's been almost seven years since my introduction to the mysteries. Lyndall is now married and living somewhere on the east coast; I haven't seen her in years. I now live alone in a one bedroom apartment in Pasadena; somehow the thought of a house with a wife and kids, Volvo and dog in the yard just doesn't appeal to me the same way as it did before. It's not a goal the way it was for me before; now it's just something that I might like to have someday.

I have had quite a few lovers since that night; I've even been in a few manage-a-tois. With each lover I have learned something different about sex and making love; with each person sex is different but always wonderful. But for me, the first time was special, a time that I will remember always.