Before I come to the next instalment of my adventure I wanted to share something.. This moment just came back to me as I, well.. Came.
It’s totally relevant to the next part of my adventure, but a little side step….
Remember?
I’m sure we all remember our first kiss and the day we popped our cherry..
(kiss= 15 in France, with a French boy, in a French way! Imagine that! Amazing)
(Cherry= 17 in my bed, with a squadie, I wish it was forgotten)
Anyway…. What just popped into my head was the first time I was touched… Really touched, explored, probbed, fingered…
Not the time and the place and the person, but the sensation… Do you remember that first time, explored and excited by someone else’s touch?
To set the scene, I was 16, it was a second date with a guy who was 19.. I went round to his uni halls to watch a movie, Dad dropped me off.. In hindsight I don’t know what my parents were thinking!
We laid on the bed watching Romeo and Juliet I think I had already seen it 10 times by that point, I even remember what I was wearing, black jeans and a tight white (Lycra -Ahh) tshirt with a heart symbol emblazoned on it, a similar image to the one on the Romeo and Juliet Album cover, probably why I bought it.
So we started kissing, nothing new, he groped my boobs, nothing new, he moved his hand down and started to rub me through my jeans, I’m not sure what “base” this would be but I had been here before. Then he un buttoned my jeans, I wanted to stop him, second date, can’t do this, but I did want it. Unbuttoned and he started to slide his cold hand inside my jeans, inside my pants. I felt like I had lost control, that I had given in, I was petrified, I didn’t want to have sex with him but I didn’t know if this meant I had to now, my mind was spinning. Then I didn’t care I could feel how wet I was as his fingers gliding about, cold and feeling like electricity, I was very aware of my breath or of making any noise, I probably laid their like a plank of wood, which is probably why he didn’t try to have sex with me. But I lost myself in my head, or rather in my pussy, they say men think with their dicks well my thoughts were only concerned with down there, it was as if my brain, my being, my consciousness migrated for a while. I was aware of every millimetre of skin, every nerve ending, and all the moisture and, with a little gentle persuasion of the my clit, and not even delving a finger inside me he took me to a place I had only taken myself before that. Pretty special, he was nice and gentle which helped.. Although I never saw him again!
I would love to hear your best “first”.
X
I dont know if I can 