2 comments/ 35285 views/ 23 favorites A Virgin No More, First Time Sex Ch. 01 By: SusanJillParker Jessica, a virgin, has first time sexual intercourse with her longtime boyfriend and now fiancé, Michael. Twenty-three-year-old Jessica was just as sexually frustrated as was her twenty-five-year-old boyfriend, Michael, perhaps even more sexually frustrated. Only, sexually and selfishly self-centered, the issue was all about him and his blue balls and not what Jessica wanted. With him pressuring her to submit to having sexual intercourse with him and her staying steadfast in her virginity, every time they discussed the issue, the topic turned heated. Every time they made out in his car, his groping quickly turned into a wrestling match with him unsuccessfully trying to remove her panties to force himself inside of her. She was such a beautiful woman. Tall and naturally blonde with bright, blue eyes and big, natural tits, if she lived in Texas instead of Massachusetts, she'd be just another blonde, beauty queen. Yet, here in Boston where so many women were shorter and squatter, she stood out as if she was a model walking the runway instead of walking down Newbury Street to work. Every man who saw her looked twice. Every man who saw her wanted her. Every man who saw her thought she was sensually sexy and smoking hot. Unfortunately for Michael, even though Jessica was his woman, because she wanted to remain a virgin, he couldn't yet have her. If you talked to Michael, he's the victim. In the way that he complained to his friends and to anyone who'd listen, co-workers and people alike on the street, he'd be first to say that he was the one who was sexually frustrated and not her. If you talked to him, using her excuse as wanting to stay a virgin until her wedding night, he'd say that she didn't want to have sexual intercourse with him, when she was the one who couldn't wait to have sexual intercourse with him. If you talked to him, it was obvious that he was on the verge of cheating on his fiancé to lessen his horniness and eradicate his sexual frustration. If you talked to him, thinking now that his fiancé is a cold, frigid bitch instead of a hot, sexy mamma, now he's unsure if he even wants to marry Jessica. "C'mon Jessica, let me fuck you just a little bit. Just let me stick my cock in you just partway," said Michael lifting up her short skirt to expose her panty clad ass and pulling her panties down part-way down her legs to expose her round, shapely, firm ass. "Okay? Please?" She turned away from him and swatted at his hand as if he was an annoying fly. "Fuck me just a little bit? Stick it in me just part way? No, Michael," said Jessica pulling up her panties and smoothing down her skirt. "C'mon baby. I promise not to go too deep and I promise to pull it out when you tell me," said Michael begging Jessica to fuck him. He lifted her skirt again and started to pull down her white, bikini panties again. With him not even sexually arousing her by sticking his hand between her legs and his fingers inside of her panties, having sex was only about him. Having sex was him fucking her and cumming inside of her. Not really caring about how she feels, he just wanted to bone her, perhaps so that he could tell all of his friends that he did. Perhaps, once he fucked her, he'd leave her. Yet, after three years together, he seemed tightly hooked on her baited line. "What's wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? Are you crazy? My parents and brother are upstairs. They can hear us down the cellar," she said in a whisper. He looked at her with a face full of anger as much as sexual frustration. "I am crazy. I'm crazy with lust for you. I need to make love to you Jessica. I need to fuck you," he said lifting her skirt again. "Michael no. Stop. I want to remain a virgin until my Honeymoon night," she said pulling up her panties and pulling down her skirt. "I promised my grandmother on her deathbed that I would," said Jessica pushing Michael's hands away. "What if I blow you? What if I suck your cock? Would it help if you ejaculated in my mouth?" "Well, okay," he said pulling down his zipper and pulling out his cock as Jessica moved to her knees in front of him. Stroking him with her hand before taking him in her mouth, she sucked him yet again. She couldn't remember the last time he licked her. She couldn't remember the last time he gave her an orgasm. Yet, as long as she gave him a hand job and/or a blowjob, everything was okay with the world. * * * * * In Michael's self-absorbed mind, seemingly everyone was having sexual intercourse but for him. Seemingly with everyone sexually sated, no one was horny and sexually frustrated but for him. With his friends having regular, non-stop sexual intercourse with women they picked up in a club, in a bar, on the street, with their girlfriends, with their lovers, and some even with their mothers, Michael was relegated to masturbating while imagining having sexual intercourse with his fiancé. "That's not fair. That's not right," he'd say to anyone who'd listen. "After putting a diamond on her finger, instead of having more sex, I'm having less sex. After swearing off other women and telling her that I'd be faithful forever, thinking that she'd finally give it up and quit being a cold bitch of a virgin, I'm horny. I'm sexually frustrated. I'm ready to rip my cock off from masturbating so much." Yeah, sure, she'd give him a hand job and/or a blowjob pretty much whenever he wanted one but what he really wanted was what he couldn't get from her. What he really wanted was to make love to her. What he really wanted was to fuck her. He wanted her to make love to him. He wanted her to fuck him. For some reason that no doubt had to do with possessiveness and control, until his cock was buried deep inside of her to stake his claim on her pussy, he didn't feel that she was truly his until he planted his flag where the sun don't shine. Oddly enough, no satisfying him, if it was the other way around, he wouldn't be happy either. If he was having regular intercourse with her but if she refused to blow him, he'd be in the same horny and sexual frustrated way that he was now. When not all women give blowjobs and if they do suck cock, not all women allow men to cum in their mouths to watch them swallow. He should be happy that his fiancé not only loves to suck cock but also that she's a great cocksucker. He should be happy that his fiancé allows him to cum in her mouth. He should be happy that she swallows but, alas, he's not happy at all. Wanting it all, he wants her to give him sexual intercourse too, along with all the blowjobs that he wants, whenever he wants them, he wants to fuck her. Not really caring that she wants to remain a virgin in this day and age of promiscuity and single mothers, he doesn't care that she promised her grandmother that she'd remain a virgin. Obviously he cares more about his sexual needs than her emotional needs and about the promise that she made to her dying grandmother. He cares more about himself than he does about her. The bottom line and all that matters to him is that he's as horny as he's sexually frustrated. He wants what he can't have. He wants to know what it's like to be inside of her while he's on top of her. He wants to make love to his woman. Not willing to wait until his Honeymoon night, he wants to fuck Jessica now. He wants to turn her around, bend her over, lift up her skirt, and pull down her panties to impale his cock inside of her pussy while he hangs on to her big tits and humps her. All one way with him, with him not even willing to wear a condom, after persuading her to take the birth control pill, he wants to pound her pussy. With her on her back and with her legs spread wide open, he wants to be on top of her while humping her. With her big tits bouncy and swaying side to side, he wants her on top of him. He wants her to jump up and down on his cock while she screams her orgasm. He wants to make love to her. He wants her to make love to him. He wants to fuck her. He wants her to fuck him. Truth be told, not even wanting to make love to her as much as he wants to fuck her, he really needs to fuck her. So that he can beat on his chest and proclaim his masculinity, with them already jealous of him and envious of her, he can't wait to tell his friends that he did Jessica. * * * * * When he first met Jessica, he thought she was as hot as she was beautiful and sexy. In the way that they made eyes at one another, had so much in common, and shared so many emotional and/or physical experiences, he thought he had found the perfect woman. In the way that she melted him with her kisses, hitting it off with her right away, he thought she was ready to jump in the sack with him. Yet, if you talk to him now, after sexually seething over her for three, long excruciating years, he'd say that she was cold and not hot at all. Thinking her more of a frigid bitch than a hot momma, sadly and unfortunately, men have no idea the sexual animals that women are. Just as most men are whoremongers for practically any woman who will willingly give them sex, most women are dirty, nasty whores for the right man. Even though she's a virgin, when not masturbating in her bathtub or in her bed, she's thinking about having sex with Michael from the time she opens her eyes in the morning to the time she closes her eyes at night. Even though she tells him that she's hot and horny for him and can't wait for him to make love to her, with actions speaking louder than words, seemingly he doesn't believe her until she's naked with her legs and arms around his back. Seemingly, he thinks more about his feelings than he thinks about her feelings. Seemingly thinking more about now than later, he can't see the forest for the trees. With them living together as man and wife for the next forty or fifty years, he's not willing to wait until their married to take her virginity. He wants what he wants when he wants it and he wants it now. "Fuck that shit about her wanting to be a virgin. No one over 18-years-old is a virgin today. Virginity is bullshit. Being a virgin is stupid. Bullshit," he said raising his voice. "I don't give a care that she promised her grandmother that she'd remain a virgin until her wedding day. She's just using her wanting to be a virgin because she's not sure if I'm the one. That's all. She has doubts, that's what she has, doubts. She's not sure if she loves me and she just doesn't want me to spoil her for another man should we not get married," he said to his friends while having one drink too many. Then, to make sexual matters even more frustrating, even when she's sleeping, she dreams of getting laid. She dreams of making love to him. Dreaming of Michael humping and humping her, she dreams of humping and humping him. She dreams of getting fucked. She dreams of him pounding her pussy while she fucks his cock. With him humping and humping her, she dreams of his erect cock buried deep inside of her while she's kissing and kissing him. Every night it's the same, she dreams of Michael making love to her before fucking her, really pounding her pussy. She dreams of having sex in every room and in every position in her parent's house and every room in every position in his parent's house. She dreams of having sex outside on the front lawn, in the backyard, on the beach, and in public. If only he knew that once he jumpstarts her motor, revving out of control, there's no turning her off until she sexually satisfied. "How dare he call me cold? If only he knew how sexually hot I am for him, he'd never call me cold again. When I'm not stroking his cock, I'm sucking his cock," she said to her girlfriends with them nodding their heads in agreement. "I wish I had remained a virgin," said her best friend Sheila. "I wish I didn't put out as much as I did," said Donna, another one her friends. "Now my boyfriend thinks me more of a slut and a whore than he thinks of me as the future mother of his children. "How dare he call me a bitch? If only he knew how lucky he is that I love sucking his cock and swallowing his cum, he'd never call me a bitch again," she said to her two girlfriends. "He should be happy with your masturbating him and sucking him," said Sheila. "Even though he wants me to blow him all the time, I seldom suck him. I'd rather fuck him or give him a hand job than to blow him." "He should be happy with you allowing him to cum in your mouth and you swallowing," said Donna. "Even with all the cocks I've sucked, I still gag when my man shoots his load in his mouth. Feeling as if I'm going to choke, being that I can't swallow, I can't breathe. Gagging and choking, I can't wait to spit it out of my mouth so that I can cough." * * * * * Most of her girlfriends don't enjoy sucking cock in the way she enjoys sucking cock. If anything, taking a cock in their mouths for only a few seconds, they just dabble with a cock in their mouth and never allow their boyfriends to cum in their mouths. Based on their true and candid confessions on how much they detest sucking cock, most of her girlfriends will stop sucking cock as soon as they say, "I do," at the altar. When her girlfriends do allow their man to cum in their mouths, totally grossed out, they don't swallow. Rather than swallowing a mouthful of warm, oozy cum, they spit out their load in a tissue. He doesn't know how lucky he is to have a fiancé who's a genuine, skilled cocksucker. A good woman who will make him a good wife and a great mother, if only he believed that she wanted to have sexual intercourse with him as much as he wanted to have sexual intercourse with her. If only he believed that she wanted to have sexual intercourse with him as much as he wanted to have sexual intercourse with her, maybe then he'd understand and honor her reason why she wanted to stay a virgin until they're married. With him obviously thinking that she's sexually teasing him and sexually punishing him, he was the one who postponed the wedding after all and not her. Had he not gotten cold feet, they would have been married by now. Had he not gotten cold feet, with them having a steady diet of sexual intercourse along with oral sex, they would have been making love and fucking day and night by now. Thinking that she was cold because she wouldn't have sexual intercourse with him, it's not enough that she does everything else. It's not enough that she sucks him way more than he licks her. It's not enough that she lets him use her body, undress her, grope her breasts whenever he wants, and suck her nipples, even when she's not in the mood. If anyone is cold, he's the cold one. With her kisses her sexual thermometer, she's way more passionate than he is. He's always first to break off their kiss. Wishing that he'd rather lick her pussy than kiss her, sadly, he'd rather suck her nipples than kiss her. He could have had sex with her up and down, sideways, and front and back by now had he not chickened out and postponed the wedding. Stupidly, some men don't think that women get horny too. Some men don't know that women have sexual urges, sexual fetishes, and sexual perversions too. Some men are too wrapped up in their own sexual frustration, horniness, and sexual satisfaction to realize that it takes two and not one to make for a sexual relationship. Unfortunately, Michael is one of those men. If Michael only knew the right moves to make, whether she promised she'd stay a virgin or not, she would have been his sexy bitch of a sex slave by now. If only he knew how to seduce her, there'd be no way that she could possibly continue to say no to him. Only, like too many men, his sexual needs were more about him than about her. All it would take for him to seduce her are candles, soft music, a little wine, and a sensual massage. Only, he's more of the John Philip Sousa marching band type than he is a Righteous Brothers Unchained Melody romantic, or an Adele's Love Song fan, or more befittingly, an Etta James At Last lover. If only men would sexually satisfy a woman first instead of only and always thinking of themselves, they may be shocked by the sexual Pandora's Box that they'd open and be unable to close. If only Michael would sexually seduce her, she'd be as submissive as any Japanese wife. If only Michael would sexually satisfy her first before only thinking of his own sexual needs, she'd be his leather bound, strap-on dildo, handcuffed, and blindfolded, sexy, submissive and/or dominant bitch. If only Michael bothered to discover what turned her on, there'd be no turning her off. Men are such dickheads. Men may be shocked by the sexual beast they'd unleash if only they gave women what they want and need, an orgasm or two or three with their fingers, their tongue, and their cock. Sadly, if only he'd sexually satisfied her first before demanding that she blow him, he may not be able to handle all of the hot sex she'd give him. When men just want to go to sleep after ejaculating, after basking in the afterglow of sex for only a few minutes and allowing the warmth of their orgasm to wane, women are just catching their second breath and ready to go again and again. Women are ready for action sooner than men. Women can get wetter faster and stay wet longer than men can get harder and stay erect. Women are ready to suck and fuck all night as long as their willing sexual partner are willing to lick and fuck all night too. To be continued... A Virgin No More, First Time Sex Ch. 02 Jessica, a virgin, has first time sexual intercourse with her longtime boyfriend and now fiancé, Michael. Relegated to making out in his car, with both of them still living at home with their parents, they never have any privacy to do anything but for hugging, kissing, and some light petting. She feared that she'd be embarrassed that her parents could hear her and/or embarrassed that her younger brother might catch her topless with her boyfriend's cock in her hand or in her mouth. She was just as uncomfortable making out down the cellar in her parent's house, as she was uncomfortable making out in his bedroom in his parent's house. With her lost in his kisses when not on her knees, with him obviously just wanting to get off to cream her hand, cum on her tits, or ejaculate in her mouth, he wouldn't care who heard him or caught him having sex with her. As long as she was stroking him and/or sucking him, he'd make out with her down her cellar, in his bedroom, in his car, or in the middle of the mall. Just as long as he got what he wanted when he wanted it, he didn't care where they had sex. A sexual fantasy of his to flash her big tits to other men, he didn't care who saw them and/or who caught her topless and him naked. With thousands of people watching them making out and touching and feeling one another, as long as he got what he wanted, he'd have sex in the stands at a baseball park or at a football stadium for all he cared. With her just the opposite, when being intimate with him, especially when he was always unbuttoning her blouse and lifting her bra to expose her big tits, she preferred having sexual intimacy privately and without an audience rather than having sex in public. Whether married or living together, as long as he understood that she'd still be a virgin until their wedding day, she couldn't wait until they could afford a place of their own and could move in together. With shades on the windows and drapes pulled closed over the shades, she couldn't wait until they had their own bed in their own bedroom. She couldn't wait until they could close their bedroom door and have some intimate privacy while having sex. Maybe then, even before the wedding, once they lived together, if he played his cards right and seduced her instead of forced her, she'd have sexual intercourse with him. Maybe then she'd have him make love to her before fucking her. Maybe then, once he experienced what it felt like to have his cock inside of her, he'd finally be sexually satisfied and would stop complaining about her not making love to him and him not being able to fuck her. Only, knowing him as well as she does, with some men going off the deep end when their wives are with child, he'd probably lose his mind when she became pregnant. Just because she was always saying no to having sexual intercourse with him didn't mean that she meant what she said. Just because she was always saying no to having sexual intercourse with him didn't mean that he couldn't persuade her by seducing her to say yes. If only he'd seduce her, she'd freely and willingly relinquish her virginity to him. If only he'd seduce her they'd put the issue of her virginity behind them and both of them would be happier. Yet, with sex always about him, other than her agreeing to give him sexual intercourse, he didn't sexually satisfy her needs in the way that she always sexually satisfied his needs. He cared more about his own sexual needs than he cared about her sexual needs. After going out to eat, to see a movie, to play miniature golf, to go bowling, to play games at the arcade, to shoot some pool, or to shop at the mall, the only private place they had was in his car when parked at lover's lane. Yet, after a while, kissing and groping in a small car, as was his Mustang GT, gets old fast. With little room to move, with her 5' 9" tall and him 6'1", a blessing in disguise, she was glad he didn't have a full-sized car or a big SUV because, no doubt, he probably would have forced her to fuck him in the backseat by now. In the way that he so wanted to fuck her bareback without using a condom, undoubtedly she would have been pregnant by now. Unmarried and with her pregnant with his baby, with him getting cold feet in marrying her before she was pregnant, she wondered what he'd be like if they had a baby on the way. Knowing him to run scared when facing adversity, especially commitment, he'd probably take off, leave her, and disappear as if he was a gypsy running away in the night after stealing something. Only, what he wanted to steal was more valuable to her than her money or jewelry. What he wanted to take from her was her virginity. A high price for him to pay, the price for her virginity was him marrying her. Knowing him, if she became pregnant with his child, he'd shirk from his responsibility and leave her alone to care for their child alone. Abandoning her and their child, she hated that she suspected that horrible truth about him. Knowing him as well as she does, she wonders why she still wants to marry him. Even after knowing his shortcomings, she loves him and there's no logical reason or commonsense explanation why one person loves another person. She just does and hoping to change him after she marries him, she has this nagging feeling that she's making a big mistake in wanting to stand at the altar with him to say, "I do." She had a pit in her stomach and a bad feeling, a woman's intuition, that their love affair was doomed by his selfishness and self-centeredness. With him a one way street, in the way that he acted when he didn't get his own way was another big reason why she remained steadfast in not giving him her virginity. Playing things by ear, she decide to wait and see what would happen as the wedding date neared and the relationship progressed. Maybe he'd see the wrong of his ways and apologize for his bad behavior. With her looking at him as if he was a specimen under a microscope, she didn't want to make a mistake in marrying a man who thought more of himself and his own needs than he did about her and her own needs. If he worsened now in his selfish attitude, she couldn't see herself marrying him. * * * * * It was the same scenario, albeit sexy scenario, every Saturday night. As if scripted and a rehearsed play, seemingly as if stuck in the Twilight Zone, playing out with the same sequence of scenes over and again, she could predict what he'd do next. If he was so predictable now in his love making when they were so young and all this was new, she couldn't imagine what he'd be like when he was older and they were married for a while. With his sexual appetite seemingly so boring bread and butter and plain meat and potatoes, she needed him to spice things up a bit to heat up her flames of desire. Alas, even though she gives him regular hand jobs and blowjobs, he always seemed so sexually unsatisfied. With him not returning the favor, he doesn't reciprocate the sexual pleasure. Being that it takes two to make for a happy sexual relationship, there's only so much they can do without making love and fucking. Kissing and kissing her, frustratingly, as soon as he kissed her a few times, he'd moved his hand to her breast. No surprise there, yet there's so much more to her than just her big tits. He loved her big tits. With him always enamored with her big tits from day one, his favorite body parts, so he says, after her big, blue eyes, pretty face, and long, blonde hair, he loves her tits as much as she loves her tits. Seemingly, with him pawing her, groping her, touching her, feeling her, and fondling her breasts, he can't get enough of her tits. Yet, as if teenagers in a movie theatre and, after a while becoming bothersome and annoying, he never stopped feeling her big tits. Sometimes as if she wasn't even there, feeling one before feeling the other, sometimes he'd even feel them both together. Enough already with the groping of her breasts and the fingering of her nipples, she had other body parts that he could explore. What if she never stopped touching, feeling, fondling, and stroking his cock? Never mind, not a good analogy, he'd probably sexually enjoy more attention paid to his cock rather than less. As soon as her nipples made their appearances through her blouse and bra, he fingered them. As soon as her nipples made their appearance through her blouse and bra, he pulled them, he turned them, and he twisted them. Enamored with her nipples as much as he was with her tits, if ever there was a breast man, he was their poster boy. Positioned in a cow pasture, she could envision him surrounded by and standing in the middle of bare breasted women, "Got Milk?" Unfortunately and sexually frustratingly, as if her erect nipples was his cue to stop sexually exciting her, regrettably him feeling her breasts while fingering her nipples is all that he thought she needed to get her sexually aroused and in the mood. He was wrong. She needed more than what he was doing. If only he'd play with her pussy once in a while instead of ignoring that part of her body to for him to pay extra attention to her tits. While kissing her and kissing her, she enjoyed him feeling her tits and fingering her nipples, as long as he was feeling her ass and putting his hand between her legs too, something that he always didn't do. Yet, too often starting and ending with her breasts, his attentive, physical affection was only for her tits. In the way she dressed, how much cleavage she showed or didn't show, everything he did and/or said was about her tits. When too sore to be fingered and uncomfortable to the touch, the only time she recoiled from him groping her breasts and fingering her nipples was when she was getting her period. Otherwise, knowing that it turned him on so much, she always allowed him to have his wicked sexual way with her big tits. He liked her natural breasts. An understatement. He loved her natural breasts. As soon as she climbed in his car, reaching his right hand over to grope her tits while driving, the amusement park was open and her fun bags were his favorite ride. If she could just give him her tits to play with and if he could stuff them in his pocket to feel, fondle, and finger them anytime he wanted, sadly, he'd probably have nothing more to do with her. Seemingly, he loved her breasts more than he loved her. In the way that some women are nothing more than their pretty faces and shapely bodies, unbelievably, she was seemingly nothing more than her big, shapely tits. As a souvenir, a sexy keepsake and an always present reminder of her tits, she imagined the interaction he'd have with his friends if she gave him painted, flesh tone, soft to the touch, silicone impressions of her breasts. Resplendent with lifelike nipples for him to keep after they separated, he could keep them in his room, beneath his pillow, in his office, or even walk around with them in his pockets. * * * * * "I heard you broke up with Jessica, Michael. I guess the wedding is off," said his friend. He looked at Michael with understanding as if he was there for him if he wanted to talk. "Yeah, it's true. With her wanting to remain a virgin until her wedding night, I was tired of waiting for her to have sexual intercourse with me," said Michael to his friend. "I was tired of having blue balls while every other man in the world, but for me, was getting laid. As if he was the injured party, the victim, and not her, Michael shook his head with sadness as if Jessica was dead instead of no longer his fiancé. "That's too bad you never banged her," said his friend while motioning his arm like the double crank mechanism on a connecting rod on a wheel of a locomotive. "She's wicked hot. She did have big tits. I bet you miss feeling and sucking on those big melons." Michael looked at his friend with a shit eating grin. "Actually, I don't. Now that you mention it, as a parting gift, she gave me her tits," said Michael. He looked at his friend and smiled as wide as Jessica's tits are big. "She gave you her tits? What do you mean? What? No way," said his friend. "How could she give you her tits? That's crazy." Michael reached in each of his pockets to pull out two silicone, exact impressions of Jessica's big tits. "See, I have them here in my pocket. Always carrying them with me and never without them, they're my personal, pocket tits," said Michael pulling Jessica's tits from his pocket to show his friend. "They're not her real tits, of course, but silicone recreations, exact replicas resplendent with nipples. They look and feel exactly like her tits." As if Michael was holding a Rolex watch or a mega karat diamond ring, his friend's eyes bulged wide open. "Wow," said his friend. "Pocket tits? I never knew there was such a thing." Michael looked down at his hands holding Jessica's pocket tits before looking up at his friend with as much pride as he had sexual satisfaction. "I love holding them, feeling them, fondling them, and sucking on them," said Michael feeling them and fondling them. "As if they're my giant worry stones fashioned in the shape and the feel of her natural breasts, what the Hell do I need her for when I have facsimiles of her tits?" His friend stared down at the lifelike recreation of Jessica's tits that Michael held in his hands. "Would you mind? May I touch them? May I feel them? May I fondle them? May I lift them to my mouth to suck them?" Michael offered Jessica's pocket tits to his friend. "Sure go right ahead. Be my guest," said Michael. "Just don't suck them. I've been sucking on them and I don't want your mouth all over my pocket tits." "Sure, okay. I understand. I'll just hold them, feel them, and fondle them while fingering the nipples," said his friend. "Okay," said Michael handing his friend exact replicas of Jessica's tits. As if really touching, feeling, fondling her tits while fingering her nipples, his friend touched, felt, fondled, and fingered Jessica's lifelike pocket tits and nipples. "Wow! These are wicked nice. They're totally unbelievable. They feel just like the real thing. I imagined that they feel just like Jessica's big tits," he said looking at Michael. "Do they?" His friend briefly looked up at Michael before staring back down at Jessica's pocket tits that he was holding. "They do feel just like much like Jessica's tits," he said with a big smile. "Having her tits with me in my pocket all the time, I don't even miss having her around." Michael accepted the replicas of Jessica's silicone tits from his friend and put them back in his pockets. "Damn," said his friend. "If I had pocket tits to carry around with me, I don't think I ever would have gotten married. I never would have had kids. I never would have been up to my ears in debt with my wife buying a car, clothes, shoes, gym memberships, and paying for my kid's college tuitions. If I had pocket tits today, I'd have something I don't have." "And what's that?" Michael looked at his friend with curiosity. "I'd have money. If I had pocket tits instead of a wife, I'd be loaded. I'd never need a woman again," said his friend after feeling the Hell out of the replicas of Jessica's pocket tits. * * * * * In the way Michael wanted Jessica's hand and mouth to be all over his cock all the time, his hands and his mouth was all over her tits. If it wasn't for his younger, pervert of a brother, she'd give him a silicone mold of her breasts for his birthday to him to keep with him beneath his pillow in his bedroom or in his pockets as his very own personal pocket tits. Only, his brother was just as bad as her brother. Always wanting to see her tits, her brother was always trying to catch her topless and/or naked and a few times he has. What is it with men and women's breasts? What's the big deal? It's just tits. Whether big, small, shapely, or saggy, every women has them. Were they taken away from their mother's breasts too soon? Alone with him in his cramped Mustang GT while resting her arm around his neck, fully aware of what he so wanted, she gave him free access to her breasts, as long as he gave her free access to his lips. One of her favorite things to do, she loved kissing him while feeling his cock through his pants. One of his favorite thing to do, he loved feeling her tits through her blouse and bra while kissing her. Another one of his favorite things to do, he loved fingering her nipples through her blouse and bra before unbuttoning her blouse and feeling her nipples through her bra. Still another one of his favorite things to do, he loved freeing her breasts from her bra to touch them, to feel them, to fondle them, and to suck them. Yet, his most favorite thing to do with his finance was for her to stroke him before sucking him while he felt her tits and fingered her nipples. Yet, whether it was his lips she wanted or her tits that he wanted, no matter which body parts they preferred, as long as they wanted one another, seemingly their love affair worked and would only get better once she was a virgin no more. Always nervously jittery and jumpy, quickly pulling down her bra and closing her blouse with every sound, she was always looking around to make sure there was no one coming. With him transfixed on her breasts, he was filled with as much excitement as if he was opening gifts on Christmas morning. As if this was the very first time he was unbuttoning her blouse and exposing her bra and cleavage to his horny eyes, one slow button at a time, she allowed him to unbutton her blouse. She could have worn a pullover top, a sweatshirt, or sweater to give him easier access to her tits but she'd rather he'd work for the pleasure of seeing and feeling her breasts. She'd rather he take his time undressing her before being rewarded with her naked breasts for him to touch and suck. Yet, always the same, he'd flail open her blouse to stare at her cleavage and bra clad breasts. He'd touch and feel her breasts through her bra as if he was feeling something so delicate precious. With his eyes bugging out of his head, as if seeing them for the very first time, he'd stare at her bra clad breasts before putting a finger beneath her bra to lift her bra up and over her big tits to free them. As far as he was concerned two things so beautiful should never be hidden away behind the confines of a bra and the modesty of a blouse. As far as he was concerned, he'd want her to go everywhere topless for all other men to not only see her tits but also for them to be envious that her tits belong to him. For fear that someone would come or a cop would harass them with his flashlight, she never totally removed her blouse and bra. Shyly modest, she didn't want anyone to see her breasts but for Michael. She'd be so embarrassed if anyone other than him saw her naked breasts. Not wanting to be topless in his car, at least while still wearing her blouse, albeit unbuttoned, she could easily pull her bra down and close her blouse quickly enough to preserve her modesty. With her being morally modest and a virgin to boot, she was a good girl. Not wanting to give anyone a free view and a cheap thrill of her naked breasts, should anyone suddenly happen along, she had him turn to face her so that he could conceal her naked breasts with his body. Other than her creepy, pervert of a brother, no other man but Michael has ever seen her naked breasts. With him the only man who she's ever given free access to touch, feel, and suck her breasts, and with her not being a slut or a whore, Michael would have to be content with seeing and feeling her breasts only from the front. It sexually aroused her that Michael was so enamored with her big breasts but there was so very much to her than just her tits. Along with her D cup breasts, she had a pretty face, beautiful, long blonde hair, long, shapely legs, and a tight, little ass. Seemingly he ignored the rest of her to spend more time with her breasts. If only he'd spend as much time with her pussy as he did with her breasts, perhaps he'd sexually arouse her enough to make her want to make love to him. If only he gave her as many orgasms as she give him, she may have agreed to have sexual intercourse with him by now. A Virgin No More, First Time Sex Ch. 02 * * * * * Kissing and kissing her, as if feeling them and fondling them for the first time, he'd feel and fondle her big tits with such excited enthusiasm while fingering her nipples that she couldn't imagine what he'd be like if they were naked and he was on top of her. She couldn't imagine how sexually excited he'd be if she was on top of him and hanging her big tits down in his face. Apparently with him judging her sexual excitement from the erect hardness of her nipples, when she wasn't yet sexually aroused enough, he'd lean down to suck her tits, first one and then the other. Thinking that was all that it took to fully, sexually arouse her, he was done. It was his turn now. Expecting a hand job and/or a blowjob before driving her home, it was the same thing every Saturday night with her stroking his cock before sucking his cock. Never allowing her to take sexual control of his body, he always took ownership of her tits while always moving her hand to his cock. She felt and squeezed his erection through his jeans while he unzipped himself and removed his prick from his underwear. Maybe, just once, she'd like to do that. Maybe just once, she'd like him to finger her and give her an orgasm first. Maybe just once, she'd like to wait until she was in the mood to stroke him before blowing him. Maybe just once, she'd like to have the sexual control instead of always relinquishing that to him. Maybe just once, she'd like him to give her a voluntary orgasm with his fingers without her having to move his hand down the front of her pants or up her skirt. Once his cock was out of his pants, as if an afterthought, he slowly lifted her short skirt. With him ensconced in what he was doing to her body, especially with her tits, she was nervously looking around while listening for anyone coming. Just as she enjoyed him feeling her tits and fingering her nipples, she enjoyed him feeling her legs, especially her upper thighs. Once he stuck his hand between her legs and left it there, she'd gasp in sexual anticipation to him fingering her. When he didn't and was about to withdraw his hand, she'd grab his hand and stick his fingers in her honeypot. She always quivered whenever he touched and felt her pussy through her panty. Yet, seemingly, he wasn't as enamored with her pussy as much as he was with her tits. Maybe if she was fucking him, he'd be more attached to her pussy. Maybe if she wasn't a virgin, he'd want her pussy as much he wants her tits. She loved it when he'd cup her whole mound in the palm of his hand through her panty. It was then that she wished he'd eat her and lick her to orgasmic pleasure. It was then that she so wanted to fuck him but for her promise that she made to her dying grandmother to remain a virgin was her personal cross to bear. Only, with her long legs, unless she stuck them out the car window and attracted attention from passing perverts, there wasn't enough room in his small car for him to give her oral sex or to fuck her. Still, she enjoyed it when he fingered her. She loved it when he rubbed her pussy before gently penetrating her with his fingertip, only not too deep. She looked forward to him masturbating her. Pushing her panty aside while kissing her, she loved feeling his fingers inside of her while he masturbated her. Just as he loved her masturbating him, she loved him masturbating her. Only, with him always getting the better of the deal by expecting her to suck him and swallow his cum, just once she'd like for him to eat her. Just once, she'd like to feel what it's like to have an orgasm from his mouth and tongue instead of just from his fingers. To be continued... A Virgin No More, First Time Sex Ch. 03 Jessica, still a virgin, masturbates herself while plotting and planning the loss of her virginity tonight. Getting ready to go out on another date with Michael, Jessica released a dreamy sigh as she relaxed in her bathtub. The warm soapy water felt good on her soft skin. She was horny. She was always horny. Something that men may or may not know about women are human. Women have sexual feelings. Women get horny too. In addition to her being horny, something that was so very difficult for her to take care of personally with masturbation, she was sexually frustrated. She was so sexually frustrated that she wanted to pull out her hair and scream out of her window at the top of her lungs. She imagined a fireman or a policeman coming to her rescue and having their wicked sexual way with her when finding her naked in her bathtub. Not only was she sexually frustrated but also she was sexually unfulfilled, literally and figuratively. She was tired of being horny. She was tired of being sexually frustrated. She was tired of being sexually unfulfilled and she was tired of being a virgin. Looking forward to being a virgin no more, she was looking forward to having first time sexual intercourse with her fiancé, Michael. With all of them on the birth control pill, she was tired of listening to her girlfriends talking about making love to their boyfriends. She didn't want to hear about their sexual exploits, their erotic escapades, and their one night stands with them having wild, unprotected sex with a guy they met online or with a man they picked up at the club. She was tired of listening to them going on and on about how they fucked this guy and banged that guy. They all lied when they told her that they wished that they had waited until their Honeymoon night to lose their virginity. They all lied when they told her that they thought she was doing the right thing by waiting. They all looked at her cross-eyed and as if there was something wrong with her that she was still a virgin. With her missing out on all of the fun, she knew that they were laughing at her while talking behind her back. She knew that they made fun of her for being dumb enough to still be a virgin. If only men listened to how some women openly talked about sex, they'd not only be shocked but also they'd see their women for the sweet, innocent women that they aren't but for the sluts and whores they are. If only men would take the time to sexually arouse their women before sticking their cocks in their hands, in her mouths, and in her pussies, they'd be surprised the passion they'd release. Instead of having a lifeless bodies beneath them, they'd have active sexual partners humping them as hard as they humped them. With sex most always about men, if only men would give up some of the sexual control that they have over women, they may be pleasantly surprised. If only men would entrust women and empower them, they may enjoy some of the sexy games that their women would want to play instead of just giving them endless blowjobs and missionary sex. With seemingly everything they do, read, watch, and say being about sex, some women are just as bad as men in that regard. Seemingly, with them being such promiscuous sluts behind closed bedroom doors, men need to know that they shouldn't be the ones having all the fun but that their women want to have some sexy fun too. Whether it's dress up or role play, women can be just as sexually imaginative as men, even more so. Granted, Jessica was nothing like her slutty friends. How could she be? With her only able to go so far, she was still a virgin after all. Even though she was engaged to her fiancé and had the diamond ring on her finger to prove it, she promised her grandmother on her deathbed that she'd wait to have sexual intercourse with her boyfriend until after she married. Only, with her grandmother from another lifetime and another morally modest era, her grandmother was old fashioned. After the promise she made to her grandmother to not have sexual intercourse and to remain a virgin until she was married, the stigma of her being a virgin has cast a dark shadow over her life long enough. Behind the times with her old world values, her grandmother was from another time and another place. She didn't understand the new world, sexual order of modern day women. Virginity meant more to her then than it does to women now. In the way that most unmarried women during her grandmother's youth were virgins, she'd be hard pressed to find a woman who hasn't lost her virginity at Prom night when she was 18-years-old today. Most women her age have already been sexually active for five or more years and have had multiple sex partners and lovers. Tired of waiting around for the right guy and for their knight in shining armor, wanting and needing to test the sexual waters while sowing their wild oats in the way that men do, most women her age aren't virgins. Most women her age are more sexually sophisticated than they were fifty and sixty years ago. Tired of carrying that cross and walking around with an unsoiled bed sheet in readiness to prove that she's still a virgin, she was tired of being a virgin. Tonight was the night that she'd change all of that with Michael. * * * * * She had plenty of time to masturbate herself as her date wasn't for hours. As if they were her little tools to help ease her sexual frustration and to help her relax, she lined up all of her masturbation toys, her sexually intimate little friends, on the top of her bathtub. Helping to make her decision which one to employ to give her an orgasm this time, she enjoyed looking at them before using them. Touching them, feeling them, and taking them to her mouth to lick and suck as if she was licking and sucking Michael's cock, she was as sexually intimate with her masturbation toys as she was with Michael. Oh, yeah, they were more than masturbation toys to her, they were her closest, sexy friends. Much better than just using her fingers, they all took her to a place where she needed to go for her to get through her day. Her favorite toy, a real squeaker, was Donald Cock, her rubber ducky, as she intimately and appropriately named him. "Quack! Quack!" She liked squeezing him for the toy to make his quacking sound. No doubt, if she had a cat or a dog, he'd be in here to see what was making that quacking sound. "Quack! Quack!" Donald wasn't just any rubber ducky. This rubber ducky had special talents. This rubber ducky had a battery, an on off switch with three vibrating settings, nicely warm, sexually arousing, and fuck me I'm gonna cum. Unlike her other vibrators, this vibrator that was fashioned in the image of a rubber ducky was waterproof and even floated on the surface of the water. Another one of her favorite masturbation toys was her yellow submarine. Fashioned in the shape of an underwater submersible, her yellow submarine was another vibrating toy that was waterproof too. Reminiscent of that old Beatles song, because she masturbated with her yellow submarine so much, now any time she heard the song, Yellow Submarine, she became horny. Whenever she heard Yellow Submarine playing on the radio in her house, in her car, or at the mall, she wanted to touch herself. She wanted to lift her skirt, pull down her panties, and finger herself no matter where she was. Whenever she heard the song where it wasn't appropriate for her to masturbate herself, she headed for the nearest ladies room and masturbated herself there. Then, there was her favorite masturbation toy, Boston Blackie, a big, black dildo that she imagined was the big, thick black cock of a giant black man named, Boston Blackie. She knew that once she lost her virginity, that Boston Blackie would take the place of Michael whenever he wasn't around. Instead of going only so far inserting Boston Blackie for her to maintain her virgin status, she couldn't wait to stick her giant black dido all the way inside of her cunt. When she wasn't teasing her clit with her rubber ducky and yellow submarine vibrators when taking her bath, she was testing her virginity by sticking Boston Blackie where she couldn't wait for her boyfriend, Michael, to stick his big, hard cock inside of her. Oh, yeah, pushing her Boston Blackie dildo right up against her hymen, she was careful that she didn't fuck herself with her dildo before her boyfriend had the chance to take her virginity and to deflower her. * * * * * She was ready to address her horniness. She was ready to take care of her sexual frustration. She was ready to give herself an orgasm. Only, even after masturbating herself and giving herself an orgasm, she may no longer be horny and/or sexually frustrated but she'd still be sexually unfulfilled. With a glass of wine sitting beside her masturbation toys, she had lit, scented candles positioned everywhere. Where men stroke themselves for a few desperate minutes in their beds and in their bathrooms, instead of just wanting a quick release, masturbation was a serious ritual to her. She imagined living in the beach cottage that she imagined that she owned in Cape Cod Massachusetts. One day, after she's married to Michael, and after he sells one of his books for a million bucks and she sells one of her paintings for thousands of dollars, they'll buy their little hide-away, get-a-away. Life would be so grand if they could live wherever they wanted while working from home instead of having to fight rush hour traffic. Moreover, they'd both would love the inspiration that the ocean would give him to write and her to paint. If she had one dream, it would be to live by the ocean. Yet, for now, with her submerged in her bathtub, just as it was her dream to live near water, in was important for her to masturbate while submerged in the water. First things first. She needed to masturbate herself. She couldn't wait to masturbate herself. Always a good start and one that never changed, she started by feeling her breasts before fingering her nipples. She loved her big D cup breasts and was glad that Michael loved them too. She couldn't even imagine having tits any smaller than these. When harnessed by her giant sized bras, she loved how they filled out her blouses and dresses. As if she was a general with a big chest filled with medals, she loved seeing her side profile when looking at herself in the mirror. She loved how her massive breasts overwhelmed her small hand. She loved how every man she's ever known has stared at, commented on, and couldn't wait to touch, feel, see, and suck on her big tits. She touched, felt, and fondled her breasts while imagining Michael touching, feeling, and fondling her big tits. Then, when she was ready, once she had the image of him in her horny mind, she fingered her nipples. Many of the women that she knew with big breasts had small nipples. She didn't. She had big nipples. Anyone who has big tits should have big nipples but sadly they all don't. She was glad that she not only had big tits but also that she had big nipples too. As soon as she closed her eyes and started fingering her nipples, they erected themselves. The bigger they grew, the harder they became. She loved it when Michael not only felt her big tits but also fingered her big nipples. With her nipples one of her erogenous zones, she loved how he fingered her nipples before sucking her nipples. As if he was her baby, and indeed he was, she loved putting a hand to the back of his head to play with his hair while he sucked her big nipples. Lifting her breast to her lips, she sucked her nipple while pretending that it was Michael sucking her nipple. Then, she lifted her other breast to her mouth and sucked that nipple too. * * * * * She was readying herself for a wonderful adventure with her fiancé, Michael, this evening by taking a bubble bath. Unable to contain them, her pink nipples peeked out of the warm water as if they were two periscopes from a submarine. No matter how high she filled the tub, or how much bubble bath she used, her erect nipples managed to find their way to the water's surface. Suffice to say, she had big tits and she loved fingering her nipples while taking a leisurely bath. Her ample breasts and long legs were sometimes a challenge for her to comfortably fit in the tub, but taking her bath was her opportunity to relax while masturbating herself. She loved the luxury of a leisurely soak once a week. The rest of the week, she showered. The rest of the week, she rested her forehead against the wet, tile wall while allowing the cascading water from her pulsating shower massager to titillate her clit and with her fingers gave herself an orgasm. Always so horny and tired of being a virgin, she really needed to get laid. Too old to be a virgin, no 23-year-old woman should still be a virgin. If this was the Victorian era, she'd be long married with three or four children. If this was the Victorian era, she'd already be considered an old maid. If this was the Victorian era, with her unable to do anything about her sexual frustration, in the way they viewed women as ladies or whores, the same way that they do today, with no grey areas, she'd be taking a walk out to sea to drown herself. While daydreaming about her boyfriend and the plans they made three days ago for this special evening, the night that he'd take her virginity, her fingers slid beneath the warm water and found her blonde, trimmed pussy. While slowly and softly massaging her clit, she closed her eyes to imagine Michael masturbating her. Then feeling the warmth of her passion taking control of her while taking her to a special place, she increased the speed and pressure on her clit while another finger slipped inside of her pussy. Imagining her finger was his cock, it took several minutes for her to start breathing heavily and even longer for her to cum. That wasn't the case when Michael teased her pussy with his fingers and masturbated her. With him tracing her slit through her panties while kissing her, feeling her big tits, and fingering her erect nipples, she'd often cum in a minute or two because he was such an expert at foreplay. Only, in the way that she's always stroking and/or sucking his cock, she wished he'd play more with her cunt and less with her tits. She wished he'd lick her as much as she sucks him. Desperately so hot, by the time he touched her pussy with his fingers, she'd cum in a flourishing flurry of orgasmic pleasure. "Oh God, oh Michael," said Jessica reaching the climax of another powerful albeit empty bathtub orgasm when rubbing her clit harder and faster by concentrating her fingertip directly on her bean. "I want you baby! I want your baby. I can't wait to make love to you. I can't wait to fuck you. I can't wait for you to pound my pussy and fuck my cunt. I can't wait until we're married. I can't wait to have our baby." She wished that her self-masturbation would give her the same kind of orgasm as the one given by her man does, but it didn't. Not nearly the same, even after she had an orgasm, she sometimes still felt horny, sexually frustrated, and unfulfilled. Often, as she found was true for many of her girlfriends, she felt empty and lonely after coming down from her orgasmic high of self-abuse. With no one there for her to hold and to touch, the afterglow of sex wasn't nearly the same. Yet, if nothing else, a limited consolation after masturbating herself, the warm bathwater helped her to relax. * * * * * While kissing and kissing her, she needed to feel Michael's lips as much as she needed to feel his fingers. She wished she could feel Michael's hand touching and feeling her in places that only he was allowed to touch and feel her. Yet, if they were to tally a scorecard, she's given him way more hand jobs with her hand than he's masturbated her with his fingers. She's given him way more blowjobs with her mouth than he's given her oral pleasure with his tongue. If only men would take more time and be more patient with women, they'd unleash the womanly beast of sexual arousal. If only he had taken the time to seduce her instead of respecting her wishes to be a virgin, she wouldn't be a virgin now. "Oh, God, Michael. If you were here right now, I'd suck you and then I'd fuck you," she said. "I'm so tired of being a virgin. I need to feel your cock inside of me. I need to feel your warm love juice squirting inside of me. I want to be your whore," she said while rubbing her clit faster and harder with one hand while fingering her nipples with her other hand. "I want you to use me, abuse me, and fuck me over," she said while masturbating herself to a better and more vocal orgasm. "Oh, God! Oh, God! I'm cumming. Fuck! Fuck! Jesus it feels so good," she said collapsing against the bathtub. "I only wish I had a cock inside of me instead of my finger. In the still horny way that I feel right now, I'd fuck anyone, the plumber, the pizza delivery man, even the mailman," she said for no one to hear. A huge understatement, she so wanted to feel Michael's big, hard cock inside of her. She so wanted him to give her an orgasm with his fingers, with his tongue, and with his prick. After three agonizing years of dating and making a vow to wait until they were married, feeling somewhat like a nun, Sister Jessica of the Society of Eternal Virgins, she couldn't wait any longer. Finally ready to break her promise that she made to her dying grandmother on her death bed, with tonight the night, she was going to get laid tonight. To be continued... Please give me the support of your vote. A Virgin No More, First Time Sex Ch. 04 Jessica, a virgin, readies herself to have first time sexual intercourse with her longtime boyfriend, Michael. Jessica and Michael met during their junior year in college. He was so handsome with his chestnut brown hair, big, brown eyes, and beautiful smile. With him being a writer, he was so full of life, creativity, and big ideas. He was going to write the great American novel and Jessica was going to have her paintings sell like hot cakes from a New York City art gallery. Only their dreams were just that and now their reality was working at 9-5, boring jobs while waiting to save up enough money to get married. Full of creative energy, the two, wild and crazy artistic people connected immediately and three years later they continue to be more in love than ever. Only, not yet lovers, after taking a vow to abstain from sexual intercourse, they'd deem themselves more as best friends than they are lovers. With her wanting to keep her virginity intact until her wedding day, it was something she promised her grandmother on her deathbed that she'd do. A regrettable promise to make, feeling so helpless to do anything to save her grandmother from dying, if her virginity would give her grandmother peace of mind, she didn't see the problem; that is until she met Michael. With him being a game changer and her promise breaker, it was difficult to keep the promise that she made to her grandmother. Nonetheless her cursed virginity, Jessica smiled while thinking about how much fun and excitement they have together and how lucky she is to have found him. They've both agreed that, after they're married, when one of them becomes extremely successful, they'll live by the ocean in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Having vacationed there as a kid, she always envied those who had the ocean as their backyard. Even though she lived equidistant from Cape Cod and from New Hampshire's White Mountains, she preferred the ocean to the mountains. She loved the mountains but she felt more connected to the ocean and to the water than she did looking out over a broad landscape from a mountain top. Since college graduation, Michael has written a couple of mildly successful novels and Jessica is waiting for a pending offer from a New York City art gallery that showed interest in her collection. The art gallery in Boston, where she works as a full-time art dealer, kindly displays and generously sells her creations on a regular basis. Still unable to quit her day job to create her art full-time, the New York City art gallery is stringing her along longer than she wants. Being that she's not showing in Boston, only displaying her paintings where she works as a saleswoman, if she showed in New York, she'd be on her way to making her living at what she loves to do. If only she could make her living while realizing her passion by creating her art full-time, now that she's found the perfect man, her life couldn't be any better. Her only two downfalls from her having a perfect life is her constant horniness and her continued sexual frustration. The other downfall is in earning her living selling her own original artwork instead of selling someone else's. She only wished that she could work at her passion and paint all day instead of having to sell someone else's painting at an art gallery. Nonetheless, not such a struggling, hungry artist anymore, able to at least pay her rent, buy food, and refresh her art supplies, she's pleased that her art is finally selling. Granted it's not selling for the prices that she hoped some of her paintings would fetch but maybe one day, after she garners some attention in New York, she'll finally find her fame and make her fortune. As she's done with the Boston art gallery, with them allowing her to hang her paintings on the wall with the other better known and more successful artists, she's confident that a deal will be struck with the New York art gallery soon. "With you writing and me painting, we're lucky that we can earn a living while doing what we both love to do," she said to Michael. "With us stuck in 9-5 jobs when not stuck in traffic, I can't wait for the day when we can work from home," she said more talking about the future than the present. "I agree," said Michael. "My biggest dream come true would be for someone to make a movie from one of my novels. Once that happens, with me being more in control of my professional destiny, then I can write whatever I want to write and whenever I want to write it. Able to dance to my own music, I'd have no more pressure from agents and publishers to write what they want me to write instead of writing what I need to write." When not painting, Jessica pictured the life they'd someday have in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Walking the beach when not painting and writing, they could sit and watch the ocean for inspiration. After having masturbated herself, yet again, she stepped out of her bath to towel herself dry. Filled with romantic anticipation and sexual expectation of what was to happen tonight, her bright smile lit up the bathroom like a cluster of twinkling stars in the evening sky. If she was on a beach on Cape Cod now, if only to show how sexually aroused she was, she'd walk along the beach naked. Not caring who'd see her naked body, even though she just masturbated, she was still horny and sexually frustrated. "Michael's been so patient with me," she said for no one to hear. "With him always so horny too and always wanting a blowjob when I'm not giving him a hand job, it's about time I give him what he really wants, the chance to deflower me. In case it doesn't work out between us, I'd rather that he be my first lover than to have regrets in giving my virginity to someone else, someone that I don't love in the way that I love him." Jessica laughed out loud at the thought of the old fashioned word 'deflower' that Michael had coined and used when they discussed the subject three days ago of her finally agreeing to lose her virginity to him. She found the word to be romantic and sexy when her Honey said 'deflower.' Being that honey and flowers went together, she immediately thought of the birds and the bees before thinking about having sexual intercourse with Michael. Her thoughts of having sexual intercourse with Michael was always on her mind. She wondered what she'd think about and what she'd put her creative energy to after having sexual intercourse and after her virginity was behind her. Freeing up her mind to think of other things, perhaps she'd think more about her art. * * * * * As if he was her Sir Galahad, he was her knight in shining armor and it made her love him even more in wanting to have sexual intercourse with him when thinking of him as an honorable man. In the way that he's been such a perfect gentleman to allow her to honor her grandmother's wishes in them waiting to have sex until they're married, he was her Victorian lover. What other man would wait more than three years to have deep, penetrating sex with his fiancée? Most other men would have found someone else by now. Most other men wouldn't have remained faithful and would have been tempted to have sexual intercourse with someone else. Only he respected her wishes and patiently, albeit sexually frustratingly, waited with him. Jessica was still technically a virgin, even though she and Michael had done everything short of penetration. He was persistent, but something he promised he wouldn't do, he never forced himself on her. He made her so hot and horny that sometimes, because she wanted to feel his cock inside her so badly, she'd actually cry from sexual frustration when they finished their sexual make-out session. After their last sexual session of hot, steamy pre-sex that included everything but penetration, it was then that she made up her mind to have sexual intercourse with him. Whether standing against a wall, sitting in a chair, lying in bed, or bending forward to allow him to take her from behind, she couldn't wait to make love and to fuck him in every imaginable way. After all, he was the only man that she wanted and they had waited long enough. She did her best in keeping the promise that she made to her grandmother but the times were different today than when her grandmother was her age. A promise impossible to keep after finding the love of her life, nearly no woman was a virgin today. "Michael, I want to ask you something special." Jessica said as they shared a cup of coffee together at their favorite, small, outdoor café on Newberry Street in the Back Bay section of Boston. As if he was lost in another novel, he absent mindedly stirred his coffee while gazing across the table at her. He was always preoccupied with characters, scenes, dialogue and plots in the way that she was always preoccupied with her paintings. "You may ask me anything but it's a little scary when you premise your question by asking my permission," he said with a laugh. "What's up?" He looked at her with his eyebrows furrowed. A few strands of his beautiful, dark hair had drifted across his face and collected just above his mysterious, golden-brown eyes. Not only was he tall, dark, and handsome, a real Adonis, but also he had a fun sense of humor to go with his quick witted intelligence and kind heart. God, she loved this man for all she was worth and couldn't imagine life without him. With her too much a part of him, he was too much a part of her. "Being that you've been patient and kind about my wanting to remain a virgin, I'd really love you to alter my virginal situation, my current status as a virgin, on Saturday night," said Jessica leaning in closer and saying softly enough that only he could hear. Embarrassed if anyone knew the extent of her sexual innocence, she didn't want the people at the tables around her to know that she was a virgin. "Your apartment or mine will be fine. You choose, okay?" After what seemed like a twenty-minute pause, which was only about twenty seconds, Michael responded in a soft voice too. "Alter your virginal situation? Your current status as a virgin? You mean," he said looking at her with as much sexual arousal as he looked at her with love. "You want me to deflower you?" She liked how he used the word deflower again. It sounded so old fashioned. It sounded so romantic. It sounded so hot. "Yes," she said with a naughty giggle. "Why Saturday night? Is Saturday some sort of anniversary that I've forgotten?" He looked at her with panic. "Oh, God! Is this some kind of joke? Are you messing with me? Are we really going to finally do it?" She didn't have to know him as well as she did to know that he was excited by the thought of having sexual intercourse with her. He put his head on his hands with his elbows on the table and was grinning from ear-to-ear while staring down into his coffee. She figured that he was going to stay just like that until she gave him a reply to all of his questions. If she could have, Jessica would have swept the all of the items off their bistro table onto the floor and taken him on the table and right on the spot. "Shh," she said. "God Michael, nothing like embarrassing me and making me work for it." Jessica laughed and then giggled back at him and before lowering her voice to just a whisper. "Deflower? In this day and age, who says deflower?" Only, teasing him, she liked it when he describing her losing her virginity to him as deflowering her. "There are lots of descriptive words that have lost public favor only to be replaced by words such as bang, screw, and fuck," he said. "I'm serious," she said. "This is no joke, no anniversary, no special date, and I'm not messing with you either. I mean it. I really mean it. I want you to finally take me," she said. "I want you to make love to me." "Oh, God, I can't wait for Saturday night," he said. "Only, why now?" She leaned across the little, bistro table and whispered, her way of making sure that no one else could hear. "I have wanted your hard, hairy cock inside my warm, wet pussy from day one of meeting you," she said. "Gees, Jessica, if only I had known that then, I never would have honored our promise to your grandmother," he said with a dirty laugh. "I want you to make me yours so to speak," she said leaning across the table to kiss him. "You'll always be mine," he said returning her kiss. "Saturday night is only three days away and I thought we'd be more relaxed when we didn't have to go to work the next day. I'd really like to wake up with you in bed on Sunday morning and laze around most of the day." "Actually, I like that idea," he said. "We can have a romantic weekend and a prelude to our Honeymoon." She giggled at what she was about to say to him next. Sounding so outrageously wicked to her, she hoped that it came of sexy to him. "So, will you do me baby?" She whispered her question to him. "Would you mind making love to me while drilling me before fucking me, really fucking me?" Her question culminated in a dirty laugh. "I can't wait for you to pound my pussy." He leaned towards her across the table and returned her whispers as if they were planning a bank robbery. "I've wanted you since the first time I saw you at the pep rally. In the way that I wanted you then, I want you even more now. When I found out that you were dating Jim at the time, I was devastated. If you remember, I called you for a date immediately after finding out the two of you were no longer a couple," he said. "Jim didn't want to wait to have sexual intercourse with me. He wouldn't take the vow to abstain from sex. He didn't care not did he understand why I wanted to remain a virgin until my wedding day," she said. "So having said all of that, and after waiting for more than three, long, excruciating, blue-ball years to make you mine, hmm, let's see, I guess I'll do you. I'd love to drill you. I can't wait to make love to you before fucking you, really fucking you and before pounding your virgin pussy," he said with a laugh. The two of them broke out laughing and the date was set. Only a couple of people were left in the café and they stared at the two of them laughing so loudly. When they settled down, they left the café holding hands and as they strolled towards his car. * * * * * "Penny for your thoughts," she said. "Penny for my thoughts? That's just as bad as using the word deflower. Instead of penny for my thoughts, we need to update that saying by saying a dollar for your thoughts," he said with a laugh. "With pennies being so worthless, I'm surprised the government wastes money making pennies," she said. "An endless number of times, I've dreamt of having sexual intercourse with you," he said opening the passenger side door for her while returning the conversation from pennies to sex as soon as he got in the car. "It's a sexual fantasy that I've had for so long, too long." "Me too," he said. "Touch me," she said as soon as he closed his car door. With them parked on a side street, unless there was someone looking out their window, no one could see them. Jessica was going mad with sexual desire when Michael reclined her car seat so that she was practically laying down. He oh so very slowly, unbuttoned her blouse and she was immediately sexually aroused. He slipped his hands inside her blue, lacy bra and started to massage her nipples, gently at first, and then he unhooked her front snapping bra, and pinched, suckled, and licked her areolas and nipples. Driving her crazy, he made a circular motion around her left nipple with his tongue. "Oh my God, Michael, if you keep that up, I'll fuck you right here. I will. I swear I will," she whispered in his ear while looking down to watch him sucking her nipples. Michael left one of his hands on her breast while his other hand lifted her short skirt. His fingers found their way up her thigh to her matching blue panties. With Jessica squirming in her seat, he moved her panty over with his fingers and gently massaged her clit with his fingertips. Ready for so much more, she was so slippery wet. Michael brought her to a quick but sexually exciting orgasm while kissing her, rubbing her clit, and pushing his finger partway into her vagina at the same time. As if his finger were his cock, Jessica humped his finger but not too deep to spoil her virginity for Saturday night. She French kissed him passionately as he masturbated her to another orgasm. "Oh, God, oh, God, I cumming Michael, I'm cumming!" Something she's never done before, Jessica screamed while she had her second orgasm. While sitting there with her short skirt hiked up to her waist and her blouse flayed wide open with her bra undone, it took a quite a while for her to recover from her powerful orgasm. If anyone was to walk by their car, they'd see quite the show of her nearly naked body. "That was just a taste of what I'm going to do to you on Saturday, Jessica," said Michael whispering into her ear. "I can't wait," she said pulling down her skirt, hooking her bra, and buttoning her blouse. He held her close and kissed her deeply. Then, he started the car, put it in gear, and drove her home. He parked his car out front and turned to her. "I want to make you mine and I don't want any other man to ever touch you," he said in a strong and impassioned voice. "Do you hear me?" "Yes," she said nodding her head. "Do you understand me?" "Yes," she said nodding her head. "I want to make love to you, take your precious flower, and devour your juices," he said seemingly becoming sexually excited with all that he said to her. "I want to lick you, suckle you, make love to you, and fuck you until we are both totally spent. I can't wait for Saturday night. I can't wait to finally have sexual intercourse with you," he said. "Yes," she said, the only word that she could utter. With thoughts of them in bed together Saturday night, all Jessica could do was nod her head in agreement because she was still washed out from him giving her two orgasms. * * * * * She spent three days thinking about nothing other than him making love to her and her making love to him. For the next three days, there was a lot of masturbation going on in her bed and in her bathtub. As if their three years together was rolled into one big bomb, these three, long, agonizing days spent with her imagination going wild of what it would feel like to finally make love was her big bang of enlightenment. She imagined what it would feel like to get laid just as much as she imagined what it would feel like for him to fuck her. She couldn't believe she waited this long. Why would she make such a promise to her grandmother, a promise that she couldn't keep? Only, if she hadn't made that promise, she may have given herself to her first boyfriend, whatever was his name, instead of giving herself to Michael, the love of her life. She left the art gallery early two days in a row because she couldn't concentrate on selling people the paintings of other artists. She wanted to sell her own paintings. She wanted to make love to her boyfriend. Tired of waiting for all the things that she so wanted, she wanted to get married and move to Cape Cod. She wanted everything that she wanted now and without waiting any longer. 'Thank God, I don't have an art show scheduled in New York this week, because I can hardly function,' she thought. She wondered if it would hurt when Michael penetrated her. Dizzy from the sight of blood, with her never making a good nurse, she wondered how much she'd bleed. She should probably put a towel under her, two towels, so that she doesn't ruin her sheet and/or stain her mattress. She had heard women discuss their first time and they said that it stung and pinched some, but after a while, it felt better. She figured that it must depend on the size of a man's cock as to how much it would hurt going in, and Michael was definitely a large man. Only, she'd definitely be wet enough for him to slide his prick inside of her and, if she wasn't, she had lubricant ready. A Virgin No More, First Time Sex Ch. 04 She comforted herself by thinking that, with him already stretching her, he had used his fingers inside her for over three years, and that would probably help lessen her pain. She was actually more curious than afraid and more sexually excited than remorseful that she was breaking her promise to her grandmother. Only, if her grandmother had met Michael and saw how much she loved him and how much he loved her, she'd not only would understand but would probably give her blessing. With her knowing that Michael would never knowingly hurt her, she knew that he'd do all that he could to make her first time having sexual intercourse a good sexual experience. Further, she knew that he wasn't a virgin, and even though she never asked him about his sexual experience with other women, she felt that his sexual experience would be a good thing for her. She figured that after having sex the first time, she'd probably be sore. With him being more careful with her the first time, the next time they made love, she'd allow him to be more wildly passionate with her body. Jessica wanted to have as much deeply penetrating sex as possible during her first deflowering night, but she figured that it all would depend on how sore she was. After making love with him, she couldn't wait to fuck him. She couldn't wait for the day when he pounded her pussy with his cock. She was still deep in thought and readying herself in the bathroom when she was brought back to the present with the sound of her cell phone ringing their favorite song, "I want to Make It with You," by Bread. After she put him on notice for Saturday night's sexual festivities, she knew it would be him calling. She reached for the phone that was perched on the table next to the tub. "Hello, my deflowering man, I can't wait to see you, baby. I'm in the bathroom getting ready for our big evening." She mewed like a wild cat on the prowl. "God, Jessica, I'm sorry," he said sounding so pained. "What? What's wrong Michael?" "I need to reschedule our date. I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am, but I just found out that my agent needs to meet with me about my book. He said that it was urgent that I come to New York to meet with him right away. He's ready to sign a contract for my next book Monday morning and he said that they'll be a sizable advance. "Oh, that's wonderful Honey. Don't worry about our night together. What's another few days after waiting three years," she said with a sad laugh. If we waited this long, we can wait a little longer," she said with obvious disappointment. "I have an idea and I don't know why I didn't think of this before but why don't you come with me. We can do the dirty deed in a swanky hotel," he said with renewed sexual excitement. "Dirty Deed?" She laughed at his word choice. "I'll meet you at the old clock tower on campus. We'll drive to New York, check into a hotel, and we'll make love," he said with sexual excitement. "Yes, I'll meet you at the old clock tower on campus," she said swooning. "That brings back memories. We met there for our first date. Do you remember?" "Really? We met at the old clock tower? I don't remember that. Are you sure? I don't think that would be something that I'd forget. I thought we met at a party," he said. "Never mind. Where we met really isn't important," she said hurt that he didn't remember. "Our future together and where we go from here is more important than the past. Let me go and get dressed. I'll see you there in half an hour," she said in the most normal tone she could manage. She hung up the phone and burst into tears. She was hurt because he didn't remember their first date meeting place. Even more hurtful than that, he cancelled the most important date of their lives as a couple. His book took precedent over her giving her most precious gift to him, her virginity. She was being foolish. She was being childish but her hormones and her sexual frustration were getting the better of her. Making sure that she was late to meet him, she spent an hour primping before their meeting. She wanted him to be sorry the second he saw her for cancelling their deflowering ceremony. She put on her low-cut, brilliant blue, silk dress. It fit her beautifully and showed off her large breasts and shapely hips. She looked like the Greek Goddess Aphrodite, the Goddess of love and beauty. Looking like no virgin that she knew should ever look, she chose her sexy, push-up bra that showed the tops of her breasts and her abundant cleavage. She wore her blue, silk, bikini panties and her 3" high heels. Feeling silk against her skin made her feel sexy and her sexiness is what she wanted to project. She fashioned her blonde hair into a free-flowing up do that was held up by a single, silver barrette. A few wisps of hair dangled around her neck and at the sides of her face. Michael had given her a collection of mystic topaz rings, earrings, and necklaces and she selected some of the most beautiful pieces to wear with her silk dress. Finally finished dressing, she stood in front of the mirror. Turning one way before turning the other, she liked what she saw, and knew he would go gaga over her. "Yes, Michael, your mistake, my foolish, dreamboat man, choosing your agent over me," she said that out loud to the mirror in her sexiest voice. "I'll make you suffer before giving myself to you." Being that it actually made her feel better to talk to herself in the full-length mirror, she continued her rant. When she was done with her one-way discussion, she had a good laugh, sashayed her ass out her door, and left to meet him. She saw him standing by the Old Clock Tower in the distance as she walked down the narrow path to meet him. Fall was in the air and the leaves growing on the wall next to the path were turning colors. The night sky was clear and as if they were all for her, the sky sparkled with tiny stars. She was glad that her dress had long sleeves, as the night was a little chilly. Even though she brought a light jacket with her that was packed in her overnight bag, she didn't want to ruin the image of him seeing her in her blue, silk, low cut dress. Tonight would have all been so romantic if she wasn't so hurt and angry with him. Only, she knew that she'd feel better once he took her in his arms and kissed her. As Jessica moved closer, she accentuated her stride so that her hips would swing more than normal. By showing him how sexy she is, she was going to make him really suffer. Now she could clearly see Michael leaning against one of the pillars supporting the Old Clock Tower. He had on his brown corduroy jacket, that she absolutely loved, and he looked like a Roman God standing there. She grinned at the irony that the two of them matched, God and Goddess alike. It was when she was about fifteen feet away when she noticed that he seemed to be deep in thought. Her heart flipped in panic that something was wrong, really wrong. Michael spotted her and flashed a beautiful smile. After seeing that smile, the most beautiful of all smiles, her heart melted and she instantly forgave him for forgetting that this is the place where they first met. Only, when he should be so happy that they were going to make love, she didn't understand why he looked so troubled. To be continued...