4 comments/ 166226 views/ 16 favorites A First Time for Everything Ch. 01 By: SinnerSaint It was wrong, I know this, and yet it was so beautiful, so powerful that I can only describe it detail by detail to completely convey all of it. I'm not good with beginnings, so I'll start at the end, and work my way back. * The First Time I remember everything, every sensation, the smell of our sweat which made our bodies glisten as we strained in passion. The feel his weight on top of me, driving me into the bed. The taste of his lips kissing mine, probing my mouth with his tongue. Most of all I was aware of his manhood inside me, stretching me, filling me until I almost couldn't bear it. My vagina quivered with delight each and every time he thrust inside me. All I could think about at first was this single burning thought in the back of my nearly overwhelmed mind: Twenty years previous, the man who was now driving his penis deep inside my sacred chamber...Had been born out of it... My name is Judith, my sin is only that I loved too little at the time when love was most needed, too much when love was no longer desired, and too sincerely when love was only wrong. Many would wonder how any woman could end up in bed with her own son...It wasn't easy, let me tell you. Pardon the jest, but I try to keep my sense of humor, even though this act of passion has ruined both our lives. My secret, my own personal shame in life had always been that I had never truly enjoyed sex. While I had had my fair share of it in my lifetime, my very first orgasm in my twenty years of experience was when I pushed my son into this world after twelve agonizing hours of labor. My second, and most recent was when my son pushed his burning hot manhood into my body one final time as he climaxed, and forced me over the edge of my own pleasure threshold. It was something about the wrongness of our incest that made me overly sensitive. My husband, God rest his soul had never been able to please me, it wouldn't have surprised me to learn that he had never even tried in earnest. Screwing is what it had been when in the backseat of his car at the tender age of eighteen, my prom dress pulled up, my panties shoved aside. It lasted all of ten seconds, and I felt more annoyance than pain. Making love we called it in college when he would sneak into my dorm and drive me crazy for an hour with teasing, but had never quite managed to figure out the intricate workings of my specific needs. He always complained that if it was really that hard for a woman to orgasm, maybe it was truely a myth after all. And you may wonder why I married him. Well, it would have been because of Adam, then unborn, sleeping in my belly, making me sick to my stomach, and sure that it was a baby I was carrying, and not a virus. We never fucked, not even once; Harry was good for many reasons, and that was one of them. He was always gentle, even our first time, and never claimed the rite of Wifely Duties. He was taken from me just last year, while Adam was away for his first year of college, the cancer wasn't slow enough for us to catch it in time, and even though I never particularly loved the man, I did mourn him for his due time. My son had come to console me, cutting back some of his academic load to spend more time at home until I was back on my feet. It didn't take me very long to do the last of my crying, and begin to find something to do with my time. Because Harry had been a smart man, and had planned ahead, I was left with more money than I would need for the rest of my life. So I could focus on myself, and finally seek out my own happiness. The first thing I did was go shopping, for the first time in my life I would be buying something just for me, something secret, something that vibrates... Within the hour I was home, eager at last to give myself the one thing Harry had never given me in twenty years, and I had only briefly experienced twenty years ago during the birth of my son. My orgasm didn't happen the way I had intended, it would be an understatment to say that it was because of being disturbed. Alone in my room, my clothing removed and folded neatly, I took a moment to examine myself in my mirror. I was a mother, a woman passing into her fifties, already I'd gone through the change. Ironically it had happened the very day Harry had been diagnosed, but I had survived him, and It...Now I was looking at my body, and what nature (with a little help from myself) had done. My skin was taken care of, I had always cleaned and exfoliated, scrubbed, and moisturized, I'd used the oils, and the creams, and just about everything I could find to keep it tight, smooth, and free of the signs of age. Age though had brought my breasts down, and given me a small tummy. My son of course had spread my hips, no slip of a girl was I these days, but by no means was I over the hill, or even run down. Yes, my body deserved more than just a casual viewing... I lay down on my bed, opening my legs slowly, looking for the first time in years at my genitals. I hadn't touched them in a sexual way since my teens, I'd been caught then, as I was going to be today, and had since avoided masturbation. Now I was working for myself again, not for a husband, or for a baby; (which I could never have again) But just for my own pleasure. My clitoris ached with protest when I coaxed it out of hiding, it was almost numb from neglect, but soon I got it warm again, very soon I could feel my juices beginning to flow, and I could smell my sex in the air. The small dildo I purchased was still much larger than my husband's penis, almost seven inches long, and thick enough to make me worry, where I hadn't even worried during my first time, I wondered if I would tear something. Well, negative thoughts brushed swiftly aside, I carefully inserted it, with a sigh of pleasure, slipping it deeper inside, inch by precious inch, my unused fingers found my clit, and it was just a matter of minutes before I felt myself building for my first full orgasm... "Mom?" "What does this word mean?" My mind was saying to itself, it took me almost a full minute to open my eyes and realize that my son was standing in the doorway, watching me. Hear I was, totally shameless, naked as the day I was born, my legs open wide, one hand ramming a large red dildo into my vagina, the other furiously rubbing my clitoris. All of this stopped as soon as reality came crashing down. I threw myself over the side of the bed, hiding my nakedness, the dildo still buried in my throbbing orifice. He must have been in shock up to that moment, but he finally snapped out of it and reacted the way he should have at first, he averted his eyes, then left the room post haste. I couldn't help notice though that familiar bulge in his pants. Had he become aroused seeing me in that state? It was anyone's guess, I myself wanted to pretend that I had imagined it, and that when I cleaned up, dressed, and went out of my room that he wouldn't even be here, that he would still be out on his date. I was not so lucky... I sat down beside him, and we both remained silent for what could have been hours, or moments, it didn't matter, because we were both thinking the same thing, and knew that it was so wrong that it seemed to stop time itself. "Do you understand what was going on?" I asked softly, ashamed of myself already for leaving my door unlocked, and even more so for masturbating in the middle of the day. "Yeah, I'm not a virgin or anything...It's just, I sort of thought you were in mourning still." He was so innocent, he didn't even know how far apart my husband and I had drifted. "You're father and I stopped making love over ten years ago, with him practically living out of his office, I've been alone, and I've really only had you to keep me company...Now you're in college. I've mourned as long as I feel I should, and today I thought it was time for a change, time for me to do something for myself...You see, I've never actually had an orgasm." "Never?" He asked, stunned by the simple fact, not so much that it was coming from his mother's lips. "Once..." I said hesitantly, attempting to avoid the inevitable, to evade the embarassing truth, but could not. So I spilled the truth. "When I gave birth to you, it was only for about five seconds, but from what I had read, I knew what it was." Needless to say he was both shocked, and a little flattered, as if being born had been something of a favor in my sexlife...If only he knew that I was already fantasizing about him. It must be the change I thought, the first week of it had needed to sit under the air conditioner for several hours of each day. I had had stranger cravings than when I had been expecting, and had thoughts I didn't even know that I was capable of thinking. "Are you imply something?" He looked over at me with open, knowing eyes, and I only had to nod, and slip my hand into his. It happened so fast, it's a wonder I even remember any of it, but I do, I remember everything, his hands on me, his kisses, his probing fingers. I was still eager and moist from my interrupted session. When he was inside me I knew how wrong it was, how wrong, how horribly wrong and vile it was, but I wasn't screaming for him to stop...I only wanted more. And for the first time in twenty years, I got mine. From the strangest of places to be sure, but hey... There's a first time for everything. To Be Continued... A First Time for Everything Ch. 01 I fidgeted in front of the blue SUV as he stared me down, a sly grin on his face. In nothing but my tiny shorts, a t-shirt, and flip fops, I couldn't help but feel naked in the cool October night air. "So are you gonna give me my charger or what?" I quipped, trying to portray a confidence I didn't feel. "Sure," he said. "Get in." His voice bore no room for argument. I stepped onto the pavement and crossed to the passenger side, hefting myself into the seat. The indescribable, masculine scent of the car washed over me and made my stomach flip. I could sense that something was going to happen between us, and my virgin mind didn't know how to feel about that. "Did you forget your phone charger on purpose?" he teased. The light from my brownstone's porch light cast a halo behind his dark hair and cast the rest of his features in darkness. "And why would I do that?" Luck was with me: my voice didn't tremble. "So you would have an excuse to come back down here and see me again, of course." He laughed, and I couldn't help but grin back at him. "No, I wouldn't do that, at least not consciously." I wasn't lying. Luck had led to my lapse in memory. Of course, I had taken advantage of that by asking him to come back to return it after I had already changed into my scant outfit. I looked at him in the dark and blushed, thankful that he wouldn't be able to see me, as I recalled our day together. He had come up to visit me at college for the long weekend, as friends sometimes do, and we had stayed up all night driving through Chinatown and singing foreign music at the tops of our lungs. We had finally passed out on the red couch of the common room in the basement of my brownstone, knowing we wouldn't likely be disturbed there. We held each other for hours under the guise of being asleep, until he had finally asked, "Kate, how asleep are you?" "Not at all," I admitted. "Neither am I." Those words made my heart soar. After that, he followed me to my psychology lecture and held my hand. After dinner, we sat in his car on the side of the road, whispering sweet nothings, caressing each other, and kissing until the windows had fogged and we were breathless. My body yearned for his touch in a way I had never experienced before; my past experiences with intimacy extended to kissing and nothing more. I wanted him badly, and I could see that he wanted me as well. "Well, I'll give you back your charger if you give me one more kiss," he said more seriously, bringing me back to the present. I smiled as I leaned in to him, my heart beating out of my chest. Our lips touched, and I could taste the sweet lemonade he had been drinking. Our lips parted as we picked up speed, and my tongue darted out to meet his as my fingers grasped his shoulders. His hand rested on my waist, warm and strong. I could feel a gathering wetness between my legs and couldn't stand to wait any longer. Breaking the kiss, I pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. Our heavy breathing was the only thing I could hear before I worked up the nerve to say, "I'm not wearing anything under this." Time stopped while I waited for his response. What if I had been wrong about his attraction to me? What if he thought I was a slut or that this was moving too fast? I didn't think I could bear the shame if he rejected me. Finally, he spoke. "Nothing?" I shook my head. "No bra? No underwear?" I bit my bottom lip and shook my head again. He leaned away from me as he started looking around the car for something, piquing my curiosity. Finally, he reached into the back seat and pulled out a blanket. A blanket? I wondered. My confusion only increased as he threw it over me, covering me from neck to feet. "Hold on a minute," he said sternly. His voice had become hoarser and deeper, and it made my insides clench. He moved the car slightly farther down the street, where it was darker. Once we were parked, he turned back to me and leaned forward. The dark look on his face both frightened and excited me. I felt the wetness grow as my pussy clenched. "So you're not wearing anything underneath your tiny shorts. What are we going to do about that?" "I... I don't know," I stammered. He smirked. "Well, I can think of a few things." A First Time for Everything Ch. 02 Hi there! Thanks for reading. This chapter is a follow-up to the first chapter in the story, so please read that first. All characters are 18 years or older. Comments are welcome! ***** He reached out to me, his strong hand snaking under the blanket he'd thrown over me. I gasped as he made contact with the skin of my arm, but he ignored me and kept going. His fingers lightly teased their way down my abdomen to the hem of my shirt, sending tingles up my spine. I suddenly felt ashamed of my body as his hands went under to make a slow ascent to my breasts. I wasn't fat, but my stomach was a little soft, not flat and toned like other girls my age who worked out. He said he'd been with other girls, and I worried I couldn't compare. I fought off the urge to bat his hand away, reminding myself that in a minute he wouldn't be touching my stomach anymore. The thought sent a jolt of electricity to my pussy. My breathing was ragged and my heart was pounding as he finally reached my breasts. I'd never been touched there before, though I had been fantasizing about it for years. He roughly grabbed the left one, kneading it in his hands, and I was sure he would be able to feel my heart hammering away. I squirmed under his ministrations, not knowing what to make of the new sensation. I hissed as his thumb finally brushed against my nipple. It felt amazing. When he started pinching and rolling the little nub between his thumb and finger, I arched my back, thrusting my breast into his hand. "You like that?" he asked, voice rough. I could only nod my head, too wrapped up in sensation to speak. When he moved his hand to repeat the treatment on my right breast, I moaned softly. He suddenly paused. "Hmm, I wonder," he muttered. "What is it?" My voice was breathless. Why had he stopped? Was something wrong? He moved closer to me and lifted the blanket to put his head underneath, yanking my shirt up as far as it would go, the movements so quick that I didn't have time to protest before his mouth closed over my left nipple. I yelped in surprise. The hot wet cavern sucked on my nipple gently, his tongue flicked against the bud, bringing it to a hard peak. "Oh my God," I moaned. As he started pinching the right nipple with his fingers again, my hands flew to his head, buried by the blanket. The cloth was rough against my palms, adding to my sensory overload. He continued suckling at my breast as he released my other one. I barely noticed he had stopped and had instead started moving his hand down to the hem of my tiny shorts. Once I felt his fingertips start to graze over the top of my shaved mound, I finally panicked. My hands moved on their own, shoving his mouth off my nipple. "Wait!" I squeaked. He frowned. "What's wrong?" "I... I don't think I can do this," I whispered. Shame flowed through me. I felt like such a coward. I had friends who had already lost their virginities and my roommate was a huge slut, so why couldn't I even let him touch me without panicking? It was pathetic. "Are you nervous?" he asked. His voice was still rough with lust, but it was also kind. His ability to understand how I was feeling was one of the reasons I liked him so much, and I felt grateful for it now. "Yes," I said softly. "You know I've never done more than kiss someone before. I'm about as virginal as you can get." I giggled nervously, trying to make a joke out of the situation so he wouldn't know how embarrassed I was. "I know," he said. "I wouldn't force you to do anything, but I thought you liked what I was doing." "I did," I insisted. "Do you want to try again? We don't have to go any farther tonight if you don't want to, and you can stop me anytime." He looked seriously into my eyes, and I knew he meant every word. I took a deep, shaky breath, before responding, "Yes. I want to try again." "Come here." He leaned forward again and pressed his lips softly against mine. I sighed with relief. His tongue began poking softly at my closed mouth, and my lips fell apart to let him in. Our tongues entwined in a deep kiss, the sweet taste of him filling my mouth once more. It made me feel safe. He continued kissing me slowly like that as his hand once more moved down to the hem of my shorts. This time I didn't stop him as his fingers pushed beneath, touching me where no one had touched me before. I whimpered as his fingers started stroking the outside folds. They were more sensitive than I expected them to be, and my nerves heightened every touch. He started kissing me a little faster and rougher, taking my mind off of my fear a little. When his fingers pushed inside and felt how wet I was, he groaned against my mouth, the lustful sound and vibrations giving me goose bumps. Having his fingers in my pussy was such a strange feeling. They were colder and drier than I expected, but maybe that was just because I was so hot and wet. When they started slowly stroking up and down, they bumped against my clit and I jolted, my eyes flying open. All I could see was his closed eyes in front of mine. I gasped as he touched the sensitive nub again, and I felt him smile against me. He started rubbing me more insistently, sending sparks of electricity throughout my body. I could feel something starting to build inside me, a deep pressure that I'd experienced while pleasuring myself in the past. I moaned, louder this time, and started kissing him back in earnest. Two of his fingers moved down to my dripping hole, while his thumb came down on my clit. I cried out as he slipped them in slowly, stretching me to a slightly uncomfortable point. "Shh," he said. "Just give it a second." I nodded and bit my lower lip until my body felt better. When I started moving my hips against his hand, trying to build that pressure again, he chuckled and caught my lips between his again. His thumb started circling my clit again as his fingers started pumping in and out of my tight hole, hitting my G-spot with each thrust. I moaned, long and low, and fisted my hands into his hair, bringing him closer to me. I felt him moan back. The pressure inside of me was building slowly, tightening like a spring, and it became the only thing I could focus on. I no longer heard our combined moans or gasping breaths, I couldn't taste him as our tongues entwined in the bruising kiss. His fingers and thumb were creating a whirlwind of pleasure inside of me, faster and faster, until I finally felt it. The orgasm exploded through me, shattering the sweet pressure that had been building up. My tunnel spasmed around his fingers and I broke our kiss, crying out as my head fell back in pleasure. His fingers continued moving, drawing out every last second of my orgasm, until they finally slowed down and I started coming down from my high. He planted one final kiss on my lips and withdrew his hand from my shorts and the blanket. In the light from the street lamps, I could see they were covered in my juices. I closed my eyes, resting my head against the headrest as my breathing and heartbeat came back under control. After a few minutes of quiet, he spoke again. "How was that?" I could hear the smirk in his voice, barely covering up the lust. "Incredible," I sighed. "Well, I'm not quite finished with you yet." I jerked my head up and opened my eyes wide, staring at him in surprise. "You're not?" I asked stupidly. "No, I'm not." He was grinning, staring at me as a wolf stares at its prey. "Then... what next?" I asked, a mixture of apprehension and excitement rising inside of me. "Let's go up to your room." A First Time for Everything Ch. 03 "Let's go up to your room." "No," came my immediate reply. I shook my head wildly. There was no way I was doing that yet. "No?" he asked, clearly confused by my adamant answer. "We can't." "Why not?" "Well, my roommate's there," was my lame excuse. It was true, though, which made it probably the only time I was ever happy she was there. "There are other places we can go, silly," he laughed. "I don't want to," I confessed. He raised his eyebrows at me, barely visible in the darkness, but otherwise remained still and silent. "I mean, I want to, please don't get me wrong, but I just don't think I'm ready to do it yet," I explained, silently pleading him with my eyes to understand. He frowned. "I think you misunderstood me. I'm not asking to have sex with you yet. I don't want to go too fast either, but I really want to touch you again. Watching you cum was the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I want to do it one more time tonight." I blushed furiously and looked down at my lap. Me? Sexy? I couldn't fathom it. We were both silent for a minute as I thought things over. Finally, I ventured, "Then why do you want to go upstairs? We could just as easily stay here." His reply was immediate; it seemed he'd already thought this through. "I want more light so I can see you better. I also want more space. There are things I want us to do that would be difficult in my car." I didn't have a good answer for that, so I just continued looking at my lap. I was nervous at the thought of him wanting to see me better. What if he tried to undress me? What if he didn't like what he saw? Then there was my roommate and the other people in my dorm. I didn't know where he wanted to go. What if there were people nearby, who could hear whatever we did? I'd be mortified. Then again, he made me feel so good. I wanted to experience that again. Was it worth the risk? "I don't know if you know this," he said, interrupting my internal monologue, "but when you think really hard you bite your lower lip. It's a huge turn on." I stopped biting and finally looked up at him. "Okay," I said. "Let's go upstairs." He leaned forward and kissed me quickly, surprising me. When he pulled back he was smiling. "Perfect." He threw the blanket back in the backseat, raising goosebumps on my skin as I was suddenly exposed to the cool air again. We both exited the SUV, my knees wobbly as I walked across the pavement. We walked hand in hand to my front door. My dorm was an old brownstone. We climbed the creaky stairs to the second floor, where my room was, and he led me to the bathroom down the carpeted hallway. Unlike your typical dormitory, this bathroom was set up much like one in a house would be, with a shower/bathtub combination, sink, counter, and toilet. I also knew for a fact that it was cleaned every day, since the janitor was one of the only people I talked to. Knowing how clean, private, and secluded it was, I didn't feel too badly about using the bathroom to do whatever it was we were about to do. I followed him obediently into the little white room, standing awkwardly in the middle as he locked the door. When he turned back to me, his eyes were dark and predatory again. I made myself stand still. I wouldn't back down from this. It took him three steps to cross over to where I was standing. His all black clothing and black combat boots stood in steep contrast to our bright white surroundings. He placed his warm, strong hands on my shoulders and steered me backwards, towards the counter. "Get up," he ordered. I obediently pushed myself up onto the counter. The second I was up there, he roughly pushed my knees apart and stood between them, bringing his lips back down to mine in a crushing, passionate kiss. His hands held my hips in place as his tongue pushed past my surprised lips and met mine. My eyes remained open wide, surprised by his lustful actions. I felt so vulnerable with him between my legs, towering over me like that, holding me so I couldn't squirm away... and it felt amazing. That vulnerable, helpless feeling turned me on more than I would ever have imagined. I shut my eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him back furiously. The smell of his skin and taste of his mouth intoxicated me, combining with his strength and barely controlled lust to build an ever-increasing warmth inside of me. It grew hotter and hotter until I thought for sure I would erupt like a volcano. Just when I was about to beg him to touch me again, his hands gripped the waistband of my shorts and began tugging downward. My eyes flew open again and reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I was sitting on the counter in my dorm bathroom with a guy two years older than me, making out like there was no tomorrow, and he was trying to get me naked. I almost stopped him again, but reminded myself that he had promised me we wouldn't have sex until I was ready. I trusted him to keep that promise. Instead of stopping him, I leaned back on my hands and lifted my hips to help him out, our mouths never breaking contact. Once my shorts dropped to the ground, one of his hands circled around my waist to hold me steady as the other went to my pussy. "God, you're so fucking wet," he groaned, panting into my mouth. He started slowly rubbing my clit with two of his fingers. I moaned, trying not to be too loud. I could feel little jolts of pleasure running through me at his touch. I never wanted it to stop. I wanted to make him feel as good as he was making me feel. I leaned forward slowly, taking my weight off of my hands. I continued kissing him, our breaths coming in loud pants, as my hands went to the crotch of his black jeans. I could feel something hard and thick straining against the material. What would it feel like it my bare hands? I started fumbling with the button, clumsy from inexperience at undressing another person, but I finally managed to undo it. I felt a small sense of triumph and moved down to his zipper. His voice cut through my determination, stilling my fingers. "As much as I would love for you to do that, I don't think it's a good idea right now," he said. I could hear the frustration in his voice, how much he didn't want to deny me. "Why not?" I asked curiously. "I want to touch you. I want to make you feel good too." He groaned. "If we go there tonight, I'm gonna want to do so much more. Just trust me. We can wait a day. You can touch me as much as you want later." His lips recaptured mine, ending the discussion. We continued kissing and he continued rubbing, building up a small pressure inside of me. Suddenly, I felt his arm leave my waist as he started to move away from me. I opened my eyes to see him getting on his knees in front of me. Heat flushed through me and my cheeks burned bright red as I realized he was on eye level with my most intimate parts. I knew what he was going to do. Apart from being mortified, I was also dying to know what it felt like. My best friend had once told me about it, and I'd been curious ever since. I scooted forward a little and leaned back on my hands once more. I could feel my heart beating fast as he looked up at me. He never broke eye contact as he slowly leaned in to me. I could only imagine what he saw: an 18 year old girl with long brown hair, half-closed brown eyes, bright pink cheeks, and parted lips, staring down at him in lust and anticipation. My musings were cut off as I felt his tongue dart out and lightly swipe up the length of my slit. My hips jerked at the new sensation, and I couldn't tell if I'd liked it or not. He didn't give me time to decide as he did it again, more slowly. I gasped as he made contact with my clit. "You taste so fucking good, Kate." His voice sounded muffled from between my legs. His arms wrapped around my thighs, holding me in place as he sucked my nub into his mouth. "Oh my God," I breathed. He sucked harder and started flicking his tongue against the hard nub, slowly at first but then picking up speed. It was better than anything I could have imagined. Pleasure washed over me in waves. I could feel every muscle in my body tensing up, the storm inside of me brewing faster and stronger with each flick of his tongue. My breaths came in loud gasps as my legs quivered. I continued to climb, up and up, until I finally reached the precipice, dangling on the edge. Just a little more... "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK!" I cried, his ministrations finally pushing me over the edge. I fell into the burning, overwhelming, glorious pleasure as I came, collapsing back onto my forearms. His tongue never stopped, sending waves crashing over me, one after the other, until I thought for a second that I was going to pass out from the borderline-painful sensation. After what felt like several minutes, I finally came back down enough to gently push his head away. I looked down at him, panting, and saw his mouth and chin were covered in my juices. "That," I said, smiling, "was unbelievable. I want to do that again. Maybe later though, I think I'm too worn out for tonight." I laughed. It really had been the most amazing thing I'd ever felt. If this was sex, then I wanted more of it. A lot more. He stood up, wiping my juices off with the back of his hand, and smiled down at me. "I second that. It's pretty late now, and someone has class in the morning." He tsk-ed at me jokingly. "When will you be back?" I asked, gently rearranging his hair. It was only Tuesday, and I didn't think I wanted to wait until the weekend to see him again. Not only did he make me feel great, but I genuinely liked spending time with him. I liked him, period. "I don't plan on leaving, actually." I looked at him inquisitively. "I'll sleep in my car tonight, in the parking lot out back. It's still warm, so I'll be fine. We can see each other again when you're out of class." I frowned. "No way, I'm not going to let you sleep in your car in this city. It's way too dangerous at night. You can sleep on the red couch in the basement. And while I'm in class, you can use the shower here and wash up. No one will mind." "Are you sure about that?" "Absolutely," I insisted. "I'll even give you my extra blanket to use." He nodded his head. "Okay, let's do that." After I put my shorts back on, we wandered out of the bathroom and into the hallway. I was suddenly paranoid about who might have overheard us, but I didn't see anyone on our very short journey to my room. I unlocked the door and slipped inside. "Hey, where have you been?" my roommate asked nosily. She was on Skype with her not-boyfriend, as usual, talking in the baby voice she reserved just for him. "I've been out with... friends," came my evasive answer as I took my spare blanket out of the closet. She snorted. "Oh please, like you have any friends." She popped her headphones back in and returned to her conversation. I went back into the hallway and handed him the blanket. "Thanks, sweetie," he said. I blushed and smiled. "Good night." He leaned down to give me a chaste kiss, allowing me to taste myself for the first time. The only word that popped into my mind was "tangy." "I'll see you tomorrow morning," I said. "Sweet dreams," he said smiling as he turned to go down the stairs. "Oh, and one more thing." He turned back to me at the top of the stairs, and said quietly, "Tomorrow, you're going to touch me." He went down the stairs before I could respond, leaving me to think about that statement until we saw each other again. A First Time for Everything Ch. 04 Hi there! I'm sorry I've taken so long to get this out, but I've had a busy few months. If you're new to this story, I recommend you read the preceding chapters first, as this is the 4th installment in a series. All characters are over 18. Happy reading! * * * * * All throughout the next day, his promise ran on repeat through my thoughts: "You're going to touch me." No matter what I was doing, whether I was in class or eating breakfast, that sentence played over and over again. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. Did I want to touch him? Yes, absolutely. I wanted to make him feel as good as he'd made me. Was I nervous about it? Hell yes. I'd never even seen a cock. More than once, a teacher would admonish me for being too distracted or a fellow classmate would ask me if everything was okay. My distractedness and excitement grew all day, until finally my classes were all over. I practically ran back to my dorm to drop off my backpack and meet him in the basement. I arrived breathless at the bottom of the stairs and broke out in a grin when I saw him reading a book on the couch, his almost-black hair wet from the shower. He'd heard me come down and looked up to see who it was. When he saw me, he smiled to match my own. "Hey," he said. "How was your day? Did you sleep well?" He leaned forward and put the book down on the coffee table, giving me his undivided attention. "I slept fine," I teased, "but my day was so long and boring without you." I started crossing the room towards him, trying to keep a bounce out of my step. I was just so happy to see him again. "How do you think I felt, all alone in this basement all day with nothing but a book to keep me company?" he teased right back. By the time he finished talking, I'd reached the couch and plopped down next to him. He added, more sincerely, "I'm happy to see you, Kate." I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled my face into his shoulder. "I'm happy to see you too," I murmured. I felt him kiss the top of my head, sending pleasant little tingles down my spine. "It's almost five o'clock," he said. "Are you hungry?" "Starved." * * * * * After we'd eaten at the dining hall, we walked back to my brownstone, the sunset painting the sky gold and red. There was a warm breeze blowing, likely one of the last of the season before the cold set in. If it weren't for nerves making my stomach flip-flop around, I'd have felt downright blissful. As it was, I was far too anxious to appreciate the scenery or the weather. I only had one thing on my mind. This is it, I told myself. If my roommate is in, he's going to take me back in that bathroom, and I'm going to touch him. I wouldn't have admitted this out loud to anybody, but the night before I had stayed up, Googling ways to pleasure a man. I hoped it would be good enough. I really wanted to do a good job and impress him. As we neared the door, my heart rate steadily increasing, he turned towards me and asked me to pack an overnight bag. It took me a moment to register what he'd said, and when I did, I nearly tripped over one of the cracked, uneven stones that made up the sidewalk. He caught my arm and steadied me. "Why would I need an overnight bag? Where are we going?" I was more confused than nervous at this point, and it must have shown on my face. He smiled reassuringly at me. "Well, last night was kind of an impromptu thing. Don't get me wrong; I loved every second of it. But I want tonight to be a little more special than fooling around in a dorm bathroom. I want us to have privacy and space, so I booked us a room in a little motel not far from here. Is that okay?" I was surprised, in a good way, as well as relieved. Now there was no chance of my roommate or anyone else on my floor hearing or walking in on us. I could let go and be myself, if I really wanted to. Privacy and space sounded wonderful, and I told him so. His smile lit up his whole face. * * * * * The motel was a small locally-owned place about 15 minutes from campus. The room was small, but clean. Despite the apparent cleanliness, the first thing we did was remove the bedspread and turn down the blanket and sheet. Once we got situated with our new surroundings, I was struck by an impulsive idea. Trying not to smile, I excused myself to the bathroom and quickly stripped down to my underwear. I didn't own anything resembling lingerie, but I had made an effort this morning to wear my skimpiest thong and a matching bra. Everything was black, and the bra had lace on the band. I decided to avoid the temptation to look in the mirror, because I knew my insecurities would make me chicken out. I popped just my head out the window. "Hey!" I said, to get his attention. He turned to look at me and opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "Stay right there and close your eyes! Don't move, and don't peek!" He looked confused for a second, but acquiesced to my strange request. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and exited the bathroom. I walked slowly and quietly towards him, until I was standing about three feet in front of him. In a shaky voice, I said, "You can open now." When he did, his eyes went through a variety of emotions - confusion, surprise, amusement, excitement, lust, and desire - all in the course of a second. He said nothing, but he reached out a hand and slowly traced a fingertip along the seam of my bra, where black lace met satiny skin. I glanced down and noticed the bulge in his jeans. My heart kicked up a notch, but it was mostly excitement now, not anxiety. If my half-dressed body had done this much to him, imagine what the rest of me could do! I felt goosebumps raise along my flesh at the thought. Continuing my brave streak, I slowly closed the remaining space between us and firmly planted my lips over his. I started the kiss off soft and slow, wanting but not daring to push it any further yet. I placed my hands on either side of his face as my tongue danced with his in a slow, passionate rhythm. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I felt his warm, strong hands encircle my waist, the feeling of flesh on flesh sending warmth directly to my center. When nothing else happened in another minute or so, I realized what he was doing. He wanted me to be the instigator. He'd been telling me all this time that we wouldn't go farther or do anything I didn't want to, and now he was letting me put that into action, instead of asking me what was or wasn't okay as I just went along for the ride. I could feel the tension pouring off of him, and I imagined that for someone who usually took charge in these scenarios, waiting patiently must have been killing him. I felt my chest flood with appreciation and love that he would let me explore him in my own way, and at my own pace. I poured all of that love into the kiss, increasing the pace and intensity until we were gasping for breath and I felt my lips bruising. With shaking hands, I started tugging on the bottom of his shirt. I wanted him to take it off, but I was too afraid to put that wish into words. He got the message, though, and broke the kiss momentarily to swiftly pull the shirt over his head. My lips recaptured his before the fabric even hit the floor. I continued to taste him even as my hands wandered down to his belt. I tried unsuccessfully to unbuckle it without breaking contact, but my hands were too shaky and I wasn't used to unbuckling someone else's belt. He seemed to sense my determination and kept his arms on my waist instead of trying to help me. I liked it that way. With the pesky belt out of the way, I turned my attention to the button and zipper on his jeans. I couldn't stop myself from thinking that this was the most I'd ever seen of him. Then once the jeans were off, we would be in a whole other ball game. I heard my own breathing, fast and shaky, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. With the nerves came a sense of anticipation. I wanted this to happen. I didn't want to turn back. The button and zipper were much easier to undo than the belt, and his pants dropped to the floor. He stepped out of them without me asking and kicked them aside. I was staring down at his cock, making a tent out of his boxers. Inside his jeans, it had been impossible to tell how big it was. Here, it stood proudly out from his body. I estimated it to be 7 inches and balked a little. 7 inches? That's bigger than average, right? Is that really gonna fit inside of me? I tore my gaze from his member and stepped back to admire the rest of him. I'd never seen this much of his body before. He had a flat stomach, a hairless chest, and strong, muscled arms. His legs were equally strong. He was no model, but he was attractive in a more rugged way, and I'd have bet he could win in almost any fight. Right now, his eyes were dark with desire and the faded glow from the table lamp cast shadows over his form. Everything combined into one dark, sexual picture that pulled at me in a very primal way. My baser instincts screamed at me, telling me I needed him, now. "Bed," I forced out, pointing to the unmade bed. My voice was husky. He moved without hesitation and sat on the edge of the mattress, the springs making a slight noise of protest. I slowly walked over and stood between his legs, assuming the position he'd had over me last night in the bathroom. I stared into his eyes as I reached behind me and undid the clasp on my bra, removing it and tossing it on the floor with his jeans and shirt. I knew I wouldn't be able to ask him for what I wanted next. There was no way I'd be able to force the words from my lips; I was far too shy to even consider trying. Instead, I thrust my chest towards him, hoping he'd get the hint. He did, taking one of my small pink nipples into his mouth. I threw my head back and moaned unabashedly. It felt good knowing no one would hear me. His tongue flicked against the little nub while he suckled, bringing first one then the other to stiff peaks. I felt moisture pooling between my lower lips, and reminded myself that tonight was about his pleasure, not mine. I gently pushed against his chest to make him stop. "Can you scoot back, and maybe lay down?" My voice was breathless with anticipation. He did as I asked, and I followed him, kneeling on the bed between his legs. I couldn't help but notice that in this position, his cock was standing straight up, like a flagpole. Part of me wanted to giggle, but that part was drowned out by the part that wanted to finally see and touch him. I got as close to his member as I could in that position, and, after drawing in a deep breath, reached out to pull down his boxers. His cock sprang out, but I made myself finish removing the garment before allowing myself to really look at it. It was definitely about 7 inches, just like I'd estimated. I knew nothing about thickness, but I knew it wasn't pencil-thin, nor was it fat. The head was a slightly purple color, with some kind of milky fluid leaking out of the tip. I couldn't decide if I was surprised or not that he was circumcised. Honestly, I didn't know what to make of it all at first. It was my first cock, after all. I tried telling myself it was okay not to feel anything about it yet. I had time to explore it and make up my mind later. After a minute of my gawking, I realized he was looking down at me expectantly, and maybe a little apprehensively. I swallowed my anxiety and reached out to touch him, watching as his eyes closed and his head dropped back against the pillow. His cock was a hot, hard rod wrapped in silky soft skin. I wrapped my hand around him gently, my fingertips just barely touching each other. I moved up and down slowly, maintaining my gentle grip, reveling in the feel of him. I could never have imagined that something could be so hard and soft at the same time. The fluid continued seeping out of the tip, and my curiosity told me to touch it. I ran my thumb over it, spreading it across the soft tip, and his hips bucked a little beneath me. I drew my hand back like I'd touched a hot stove, afraid I'd hurt him or something. "Don't stop," he murmured. "That felt good. Please keep going." He sounded like he was actually asking me to, instead of just granting me permission to do so. It gave me a sense of power that I found intoxicating. It was up to me to give or deny him pleasure. I smiled and wrapped my hand around him again as he sighed. This time I brushed my thumb over the tip and spread the fluid around a little more confidently. I trailed my fingertips down his shaft to his balls, holding each one in my hand. They were heavy, warm and soft, and perfectly shaved. I heard his sharp intake of breath as I held and caressed each one. "Should I stop?" I asked hesitantly, pausing in my ministrations. After his last reaction, I wasn't sure if I was hurting him or pleasuring him. "No." So I didn't. I stroked each one a couple more times before returning my attention to his cock. With my hand wrapped around his girth again, I began stroking up and down a little more quickly and forcefully. I watched his muscles stiffen and his breathing become rapid and irregular as I worked. "Grip harder," he gasped. I had my doubts; I didn't want to hurt him by squeezing too hard. But he'd asked me to, so I obeyed, tightening my grip around him as I moved up and down. After another minute, I decided I didn't want him to cum yet. Not like this. It pleased me to no end that my hand could apparently make him feel good, but I was dying to try out some of the tips I'd read online about blowjobs. My heart was fluttering in my chest as I slowed my hand to a complete halt. His breathing was still ragged as his eyes opened. He made an incredible sight: this very attractive man with his dark hair and dark eyes, staring down at me lustfully, lips parted as his chest heaved and shone with a fine sheen of sweat. Right now those dark eyes seemed to be asking me silently what was going on. I answered by moving away from him and bending over to take his cock in my mouth. Up close, it looked like it had somehow become even bigger than when we'd started. I was on all fours, staring down at it, wondering how I was going to fit it in my mouth. Here goes, I thought. My lips brushed across the tip and trailed soft kisses down the shaft. I purposefully started off slowly, not to build up his pleasure, but to calm my own nerves. I knew I wouldn't do a good job if I just jumped into it like I wanted to, so I took my time, listening to his soft sighs. When I'd made my way down the shaft and back up again, I found myself once more staring at his weeping cock. The word for the milky fluid suddenly popped into my head: precum. It had to be precum. My curiosity took over. I wanted to know what it tasted like. I quickly flicked my tongue over the tip and heard a small intake of breath. I couldn't say if it was mine or his, or possibly both of us simultaneously. The precum was slightly salty and a little sweet at the same time. It was a strange taste, but I didn't find it bad. I took a slower, more confident lick across the tip and heard another sigh. This one was definitely him. I took the plunge and put the tip in my mouth, my lips forming a tight seal around his member. Trying to remember what I'd read online wasn't easy when I was actually trying to do it. Instead, I pushed all thoughts and feelings into the back of my mind and tried to just do what came naturally to me. I gripped the base with one hand and slowly lowered my mouth over his cock until I had as much of him as I dared in my mouth, and then I slowly pulled up again until just the tip was left inside. I did that a few more times, sucking in my cheeks to create more pressure as I pulled up, until I'd found a pretty steady rhythm. The only adjustment he asked me to make was to pull my lips over my teeth, which I quickly obliged. Once I got into it, I started really enjoying it. He tasted clean and salty and sweet all at once, and the rhythm was almost soothing, in a weird way. I loved the noises he was making, the gasps and moans that escaped his lips every few seconds. I could feel a low heat burning in my belly, and I was so wet my panties were completely soaked through. The muscles in his legs tensed as I moved my hand from his shaft to his balls, caressing and lightly squeezing them as I kept sucking. When his hands moved away from twisting the sheets to clench in my hair, I moaned and felt my pussy clench in return. "Do that again!" His voice sounded so tense. At first I wasn't sure what he was talking about, then I realized it and moaned again. "Yes," he breathed. "Please keep doing that." So I did, humming as I sucked his cock and caressed his balls. Just as my jaw started to ache, he gasped out, "I'm gonna cum!" A couple of seconds later, the first spurts of his cum hit the back of my throat, and I almost gagged in surprise. Instead, I kept doing exactly what I was doing as shot after shot hit the back of my throat. I swallowed them all; it didn't even occur to me that I could spit it out. Finally, he lifted my head off of him. My lips felt swollen and bruised, my jaw ached, my hair was a mess, and the remains of his cum coated my tongue. I'd never felt sexier. He tugged my hand gently until I was laying down next to him. I snuggled up to his side and buried my head in the crook of his shoulder. I could hear his heart pounding through his veins, and his chest was still heaving slightly. Finally, he asked, "Did you swallow?" I frowned. That was the first thing he said to me after I blew him? No, "You did well" or "Holy shit" or even a thanks? "Yes, why?" I asked defensively. "I didn't expect you to. You didn't have to." "Does it matter?" "No." He paused for a second. "That was incredible, Kate." My anger and disappointment dissipated to be replaced with insecurity and hope that he meant it. "Really?" I asked timidly. I didn't want him to say it unless it was true. "Yeah. It was amazing. This whole time I've been with you, it's like you've had this instinctual knowledge of how exactly to touch me to make me feel good. It blows me away." I smiled a big goofy smile into his shoulder. It was the best compliment he could have given me, and I felt proud of myself. Not knowing how else to respond, I kissed his shoulder. We cuddled like that for a few minutes as his heartbeat and breathing slowed down and become more normal. I started squirming against him. My pussy was still hot and wet, and the experience I'd just had had only made me hornier. "What now?" I ventured. He pulled away and sat up as I flopped down on the bed. "Now," he said, grinning mischievously, "it's your turn." * * * * * This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated, so I split it into two. That should make this series six chapters long instead of my originally planned five. I'm sorry I had to split it where I did, but I'll try to make it up to you in the final chapters! Thanks for reading! Please comment and vote!