It was my first time with a girl. I remember it as clear as day, as though it happened yesterday; maybe that’s because it was with the girl I later fell in love with and then subsequently lost through tremendous and never forgotten heartbreak, or maybe its because, like all first times, they imprint somewhere on your brain and remain there in vivid colour.
We met at college. The first time I saw her I hated her. I hated her arrogance, her confidence, her swagger. She was so unbelievably rude. She barely spoke to me, looked at me as though I was nothing to her and continued to do so, despite hanging in the same social circles.
It was exactly that behaviour that had me hooked. There was something about her, unlike any of the other girls I’d like or gotten with. I’d kissed girls before, teased them, made out with them, groped them, but never pushed that boundary. I guess like everyone else, I was afraid of rejection. Fooling about with friends when you’re tipsy is a bit different to going the full hog and showing them what you want to do with them.
Her nonchalance annoyed me. I knew I was attractive, fun to be around, an easy conversationalist and funny at times, so why was she paying me so little attention. I fought in conversations to pose questions to her, to spend time with her. She wasn’t having any of it.
One night we were out at a gig, watching a friends band play at a pub. It wasn’t a big event and as we were walking I told her, Id have her. She laughed and said she knew I wouldn’t, I wasn’t enough for her. I told her I’d pin her and she asked what the hell I meant. I slammed her against the wall of the building we were passing, pushed my crotch and tits into her, leant in, my lips nearly touching hers. And then I heard it, the anticipated breathing. And I knew that second, I’d got her.
I pushed back off the wall and carried on walking smiling to myself, I glanced back to see her staring at the floor, smiling, knowing she’d let that guard down and I was in. That night we kissed for the first time, later. It was a violent kiss, almost an assault on her lips – A demonstration that I could have her, and would, in time.
A week later she was in my bed. Laid out and staying over. I had no idea what I was doing. I sat on top of her kissing her, looking at her, thinking of how I was with guys, was it the same, did the same rules apply. I kissed her neck and nibbled her ears. She groaned. So that works, I ran my hands over her breasts, thinking how I liked it, I squeezed them gently, cupping them, pulling them together and kisses the ridges they made, licking the line of her cleavage. She wriggled underneath me, pushed her boobs up to me. Responded with harder kisses, digging her nails in my back.
I undressed myself, down to my pants, sat back astride her, pushing my tits in her face. Confidence was the only way forwards. Her eyes lit up at the sight of my piercings and she pulled them towards her, nipping them between her fingers and sucking them, swirling her tongue. I tried to concentrate on what she did, how it felt. Pulling her tops off and ripping off her jeans. She undid her bra and lay back down. I kissed down her neck, across her chest, around her nipples. She sighed and groaned, I flicked my tongue over her hard nip, around it, pulled it gently between my teeth. She pulled me hair when I sucked them, I sucked harder, flicking my tongue over the tip and she dug her hands in my back.
I ran my hands over her stomach; her hand gripped my butt as my hand grazed the top of her frenchies. I moved up the inside of her thigh tickling, kissing her, trying not to think to much. Then my fingers glanced over her lips, and dampened as I felt her knickers, drenched.
I gasped out loud, rubbing my fingers over the wetness, pressing harder, feeling my finger dip between her lips through her knickers. She dug her nails in, pushed her crotch forwards. I started to panic, what if I couldn’t get her there, what if… I was no good.
I pulled back, she looked almost upset, and I smiled a cheeky grin, grabbing a scarf off the floor I grabbed her hands, pushing them against my metal bed-frame and began to tie them. I had to make it memorable. I had to make her so turned on, it didn’t matter what I did. She struggled and wriggled, I smiled, dancing my tits in front of her, before kissing down her stomach. I could smell her cunt.
It smelt like my fingers did after I’d played with myself, a musky scent, sweet and rich. I ran my fingers over her, around her knicker line and slipped a finger underneath. She was so wet. I couldn’t believe how randy I was. I ran my fingers up and down her slit, glancing over her clit. She still struggled with her hands, writhing in the bed. I slipped a finger just inside her, darting it in and out. She pushed her hips towards me, trying to push me in, and then I dipped it deeper, pressing up onto the inside of her snatch.
She moaned, I worked her as I liked, slow hard caresses of her g spot, pulling in and out slowly, twisting my fingers at the knuckle. My hand was soaked my fingers wet, my hand aching with the strain. I lowered myself to her, kissed her clit through her knickers, and then ripped them off.
She lay bare in front of me, exposed; legs wide open for me to see. Her cunt was beautifully pink, flushed with blood and glistening wet. Her lips were full, brighter, and her clit swollen. I sucked her lips, feeling them between mine, tasting her for the first time, feeling her cum touch my nose and make my lips, wet.
I ran my tongue up to her cit and slipped a finger back inside, I flicked it with my tongue. Heard her gasp, and started a fast rhythm, glancing over it again and again. I wish id taken it slower, my jaw ached, my tongue knackered so quickly, but all I could taste was her. All I could smell was her musk, her own scent, feel her getting wetter and wetter. I upped tempo and pace, thrusting my fingers harder. She’d wriggled a hand free and grabbed mine; thrusting it into her, don’t stop. Harder, she guided me.
I worked her again and again, feeling myself getting wetter and wetter, dying to feel her pulse around my finger. And then it came, I felt the walls of her pussy swell, grip my fingers, her back arch, her legs shake, she gripped me tighter and tighter, screaming out, teasing her nipples with her free hand. Her clit danced on and off my tongue, I tried to keep it in place, keep the spot.
Suddenly there was a rush of cum, swimming over my fingers; her pussy pulsed, hard, rhythmically beating around me. I eased off, slowed. ‘Don’t stop’, she screamed and I pounded her again, she wriggled and writhed, gripping my two fingers so tight, finally her body tensing one last time, she fell back, her brow sweating, her hands relaxed on her tits, and I slid my fingers in and out of her slowly.
I took them out, licking the cum off them for her to see, ran my tongue up from her arse to her clit, lapping her up. She tasted, like heaven. It was then I realised, how much I loved it. I stared deep into her eyes, looked over her body, beautifully curvaceous. I kissed her, her tongue finding mine, sucking them cum from it. I pulled back and looked at her. I was so into her, I wanted her again- then. I was addicted, to her taste, to her smell, to her cunt. Id found a new passion, my new favourite hobby, and discovered a whole new me, I couldn’t wait to explore again, and again, and again…