After the Party

Many years ago I worked in Engineering for a large tech company. At the time I was occasionally dating Joanie, who was in grad school in the East Bay. It was the 70s in California, I was young and horny, and neither of us were feeling exclusively committed to each other.

At the was Lisa, who worked in Marketing. We were both involved with the same new product under development. Lisa was dating Michael, a guy in Support, though his presence in the building didn't seem to affect her occasional low-key, appropriately discreet flirting with me.

I was attracted to Lisa's cute face that was pleasantly framed by shoulder-length, very wavy light brown hair. She had round cheeks, a perky upturned nose, and big dark brown eyes. And had what seemed to be a very kissable mouth. Her happy smile and good sense of humor, not to mention her trim body -- short stature, small breasts, narrow hips -- were all bonus factors.

One day things went from low-key to Big Signals when Lisa and one of her Marketing friends wandered into the cluttered, noisy Engineering lab where I spent much of my time. They wanted to see what I was doing, so I showed them. I managed a mere two minutes before Lisa interrupted with a cheery "That's great!" It was clear she'd heard enough to satisfy her curiosity. I wasn't offended.

"I don't fool around!" I replied.

Lisa gave me an odd look and responded, "That's too bad." She maintained eye contact with a wry smile on her face, watching my reaction, and her friend laughed. When they left the lab a few minutes later, I wondered what she really meant by that comment. Should I take it as a come-on? How serious was she?

A week later Lisa told me that she was hosting a party at her apartment that upcoming Friday evening and was inviting both work and non-work friends. She made it clear, twice, that Michael wouldn't be there, telling me he had an overriding family commitment elsewhere. "You can bring someone," she said, again with that smile that might or might not be suggesting something more, "Or just come alone. Then you could stay afterwards for little while and help me clean up." I agreed immediately.

Attending without Joanie wasn't a problem. She had a midterm the following Monday and told me she had no interest in going to my "work party" and instead wanted to nest in her own apartment after her last class for some quiet study time. "I'll call you on Saturday morning to see how your studying is going," I told her. Joanie didn't seem to care.

When I arrived at Lisa's apartment, it was jammed with a couple dozen people milling around, buzzing in conversations, drinking beer and wine and munching on chips, pretzels, and carrot sticks. I recognized several people from work and joined in the mingle. Shortly after midnight everyone else had departed, and Lisa and I were alone amongst the clutter. "My roommate is spending the night at her boyfriend's," she assured me, and I took that as another possible come-on signal.

We made progress on cleaning up the mess, and Lisa suggested we had done enough for the evening and should take a break. A few minutes later we were sitting side by side on the brown shag carpet, leaning against the couch facing a gas fireplace with its flickering fake log. The silence of the moment was calming. We were both feeling the effects of the evening's alcohol. I was buzzed. Lisa seemed even more so.

No time like the present, I thought, and I kissed her. Things progressed quickly from there. Soon we were horizontal on the floor, making out with unbroken wet, sloppy kisses. All I got from her was "Go!" signals. Before long my hands were wandering from her face to her back, then to her breasts and eventually cupping the crotch of her levis.

Lisa was passionately kissing me with an active tongue and frequent moans of pleasure. Several minutes later her jeans and panties were in a heap three feet away and my mouth was between her legs. I dove in. Lisa had a nicely trimmed thatch of soft, black pubic hair surrounding a puffy mound. Her already pouty pink inner labia advertised her arousal, filling my nostrils and smearing across my face.

I licked and slathered until her pussy opened wide, her inner labia inflamed crimson and thick. She was magnificently succulent. Her mildly musky scent and taste got me rock-hard, and her continual little guttural noises got me rev'ed up with a serious need to fuck her, right then and there. I curled two fingers up inside her vagina, and that only ratcheted up her noises and her squirming hips.

And yet I hesitated. It was clear to me that Lisa was drunk. I felt little satisfaction and a lot of downsides to having sex with a drunken woman who might have a change of heart when she sobered up. Besides, even after more than fifteen or twenty minutes of what I thought was effective oral, even though Lisa seemed thoroughly turned on, she still wasn't unable to reach an orgasm. Plus, in the back of my mind was the possibility that Michael might show up at the front door, even at this late hour, and that wouldn't make for a good scene.

It just didn't seem like the right time or place to proceed further.

I eased off on my licking and sucking and fingering -- reluctantly, to be sure -- and told her I thought we should call it a night. "We've both had too much to drink." Lisa sighed and nodded in agreement. "I hope we can get together another time," I suggested hopefully, and Lisa smiled and gave me a hazy affirmative reply. We stood up for a final embrace and one last kiss at the door, and I walked to my parked car as the front door clicked shut behind me.

Okay, I thought, maybe I'll get some points for being a gentleman.

The following Monday morning at work, I poked my head into Lisa's cubicle. She seemed no worse for wear. I thanked her for Friday night, and she thanked me for being there and helping to tidy up. "Maybe you can come over again," she told me with her flirtatious grin.

"I'd love to come," I replied, "Whenever we can work it out." We shared a knowing smile.

We made those arrangements. A couple of weeks later I was back in Lisa's living room on a Saturday morning. I greeted her roommate -- I'd met her only briefly at the party -- who excused herself to disappear into her own bedroom and shut the door. Lisa took me by the hand and led me down the hallway to her bedroom.

It was a girly room, as I'd expected it would be, with a flowered bedspread and dolls perched on the dresser and a white wicker chair in the corner. We stood next to the bed, embraced and kissed, then slowly unbuttoned, unsnapped, and unzipped each other's clothes until we were both standing naked. Naked and a little bit nervous, if truth be told.

Lisa, in her (and my) sober state was a more gentle kisser. Her tongue sought out mine while her hands wandered around my back. My own hands roamed from her hips to her back to her face, and all the while my erection pressed against her tummy. It was clear to both of us why I was there and what we would soon be doing.

I could smell the faint scent of her shampoo and the somewhat stronger scent of a floral cologne she'd dabbed behind her ears and low on her neck. We kissed and nuzzled, separating just enough so that my hands could cup her breasts, feeling her nipples as stiff as my erection that she now softly stroked with her hands. "You're so hard," she whispered, smearing my precum around my glans.

"That's because you turn me on," I responded. My right hand slid down to her pussy. Lisa moved her left foot farther to the left to open her stance, and I cupped her mound. She inhaled a quick breath and gave my cock a squeeze. I could feel her cleft swelling open and her lubrication in my palm. Her clitoral shaft was also as stiff as my erection.

"Let's get into bed," she breathed into my ear. She flung back the duvet, and a few seconds later we were intertwined on her crisp pale yellow bedsheets. Now I had the time to comfortably explore her whole body, and I made the most of it. I kissed her neck and patiently exploring lower. I gave a lengthy hello to her firm, 26-year-old breasts with their surprisingly sensitive nipples, and she acknowledged my lips and tongue with soft moans. Lower and lower, I left a trail of soft kisses down to her bellybutton.

"Wait," Lisa murmured, grabbing my shoulders. "Let me go down on you first. It's your turn this time."

I didn't argue. We swapped positions, now with me lying on my back and Lisa at a 90-degree angle to me and face to face with my erection. "Very nice," she said, grasping the base of my cock with a thumb and forefinger and encircling my cock with her lips, her tongue swirling around and around the glans. I shivered and groaned. She hummed her response, and I shivered a second time.

Lisa's mouth momentarily withdrew, tilting her head to look up at me. "You're leaking," she said, licking her lips, "Very tasty," then returned to taking my shaft deeper and deeper, a half inch at a time, until her mouth held maybe three-quarters of my shaft. Then she began slowly bobbing her pursed lips up and down, up and down, swirling her flattened tongue against my shaft, while her thumb and forefinger gave me a squeeze at the end of every descent.

Clearly Lisa had mastered oral skills. She played with my arousal, teasing it higher with her pacing and tongue and increased suction, then allowing me to settle down just a bit by slowing, then increasing again to ratchet me to an even higher level, then slowing again. My hands continually stroked her shoulders and neck, and I was moaning and murmuring my appreciation for what she was doing.

When I announced my warning, "You're going to make me come," Lisa increased her speed another level to finish me. My cock swelled and stiffened, and I groaned a final "Oh my god!" Lisa grunted an acknowledgment and took me over the edge. My hips rose and stiffened, and Lisa's mouth retreated until her lips were just a bit below my cockhead as I ejaculated burst after burst into her mouth. I felt her suck hard at every burst and occasionally swallow.

As my pulses became less intense, Lisa's mouth remained latched onto my cock, once again swirling her tongue around the head. When I finished, she sat up and looked at me, doing a final obvious swallow. "How was that?" she said with a smile.

"Amazing," I told her. "That was fabulous."

Lisa smiled and lay down on her side, next to me, and I rolled to face her and kiss her. I could taste the residue of my semen on her lips and in her mouth. "I like how you taste," she whispered, "And that you're willing to kiss me afterwards."

"It's only fair," I replied. "Can I taste you now?"

Lisa laughed. "Oh, please do!"

I began just as I had done that earlier Friday night, though this time my kisses moved down her body more patiently. Her fuck-me scent hit my nostrils when my face was only a few inches below her bellybutton. When I reached her Promised Land, I found her pubic hair was as fluffy as I had remembered, and by the time I got there her vulva was yawning wide and flowing with her lubrication.

I held her butt with both hands and began soft licks on her inner thighs on both sides of her mound framed by trimmed pubic hair. Her pink inner labia were thick with arousal and open to welcome my tongue. A few firm upward licks later -- met with her upraised legs and gasping moans of pleasure -- her vulva was in full bloom, and a thin dribble of her juices and my saliva slid down to the bedsheet. Her clitoris was jutting out and joined the party. "Do you like doing that?" she managed to murmur between her almost continual moans and gasps and whimpers.

"I love it," I told her. She answered with a higher-pitched whine.

I wanted to finish what I was unable to accomplish two weeks earlier on the floor of her living room. My tongue became more deliberate with a steady rhythm and focusing on her clitoris that seemed eager for my attention. My two fingers curled up inside her vagina seemed to be a major plus for her as my tongue swiped firm, upward licks between her inflamed labia and slickered up her stiff clitoris, finishing each pass with a few circular swirls.

It all worked. Lisa's arousal ratcheted higher and higher, and I met each rise with a slight increase in pressure and pace. Her breathless panting soon became erratic. "That's it," she gasped. Her soft moans became louder grunts of "Oh! Oh! Oh! Don't stop!", and her hands pushed on the back of my head to mash my face even harder against her pussy.

Suddenly her buttocks clenched and her hips tilted upward against my mouth and froze. She her breath. Her belly quivered. Bingo, I thought, still locked into my steady rhythm. Lisa exhaled a long, loud guttural groan, her knees bent higher and her torso shuddered. I slowed my licks and gently massaged her clitoris with the flat of my tongue, and she exhaled another noisy groan, then a third, then a fourth.

After that, she was done. Her orgasm seemed intense, longer than some other women and shorter than others. Now she was still panting shallow breaths fighting for oxygen, though her muscled tension had slumped into an all-body weakness. Her tasty juices were smeared across the lower half of my face. I was in heaven. I moved up to lie beside her, gently stroking her breasts and nuzzling her neck.

Lisa finally came back to earth. She rolled onto her side to face me. "Wow," she murmured, kissing me. Her hand found my erection, which had fully reawakened. "I think this wants to play, too."

"I think you're right," I replied. She kissed me again, then propped herself up on an elbow. "Do you want to be inside me?" she asked, bluntly. If there was ever a rhetorical question, that was it.

"Very much so. Do you want that, too?"

Her fist was rhythmically squeezing my cock. "Yeah, I want to feel you inside me," she said. Her hand let go of my shaft. "But first I need to go to the bathroom," she added, "and put in my diaphragm."

The diaphragm was a bit of a surprise to me. Almost all my lovers in those days were using the pill. One past lover had an IUD. I'd had a short relationship during college with woman who used a diaphragm. I have to say, I wasn't a big fan. I didn't like the break in the action -- like now. Or maybe I wasn't a big fan of the co-ed who was using the diaphragm. Still, a diaphragm gave us both bare skin to skin contact, and that felt better than using a condom.

A few minutes later Lisa returned to the bedroom, shutting and locking the door, and rejoined me in bed. "There," she said, "All done."

"Good. It's good to be safe," I told her.

She leaned forward and kissed me, and once again our mouths reconnected and our hands were all over each other's body. "You got me really turned on with your mouth," she breathed in my ear. "Now I just want to feel this..." Her fist found my rock-hard erection again. "Inside me."

For me, there are three significantly memorable moments with a new lover. The first is when I go down on her and learn as much as I can about her with my eyes, nose, tongue and lips, and fingers. I had experienced that twice with Lisa.

The second memorable moment is the first time my cock enters a new lover's vagina, beginning with that initial penetration between the portal of her puffy labia to experience the magic of her entrance, and then sliding the full length of my rigid flesh inside her body, feeling her vagina's texture and heat and lubrication and snugness, until I am buried to the hilt and my pubic bone pressed against her vulva. In that first encounter I am acutely aware that she is granting me access to the most profoundly intimate and private part of her body.

And number three is the first time I climax inside a lover's vagina. That gives me both intense physical and psychological pleasure. The physical pleasure is obvious. The psychological pleasure stems from the awareness that not only has she accepted my erection inside her, she has now accepted the additional risk that my semen might actually encounter an ovulating egg.

I was ready for the second memorable moment. "How do you want to do this?" I asked.

"Let me start on top. Is that okay?"

"Of course," I told her. Lisa rolled on top of me, sitting upright and straddling my hips, and notched my erection in the length of her very warm, very juicy cleft. My degree of intimate experience with her vagina that was gained by my mouth and fingers was a mere whisper of the details I was about to learn with my cock. She slid her inflamed vulva up and down my stiff flesh a few times to get it properly slick, then reached down to aim my cockhead at her entrance, tilted her hips, and impaled herself on my very eager penis.

I exhaled out a surprised groan of pleasure. I now felt the sweet, hot, slick embrace of her vagina surrounding my ultra sensitive flesh. This second moment was a marvel. I felt the thin ring of muscle guarding her entrance as her profusely lubricated sheath wrapped around my cock, snug but not tight. She seemed as turned on as I was. She exhaled a long, groaning "Ohhhhh" and pressed down on me until I was buried in her heavenly grasp.

"I feel so full," she murmured, looking down at my face. Her kegels gave me a few welcoming squeezes around the base of my shaft, and I pulsed my kegels in response. "I felt that," she said. "Do you like my pussy?" she asked with a smile.

"You feel incredible," I told her, and that prompted another squeeze.

She closed her eyes and swirled her hips in a slight circular motion. "Are you always this hard?" she asked.

"It's because of you," I responded. She giggled and gave my cock another squeeze.

Having Lisa on top of me had several advantages over most other positions. She would be able to move her body in ways and in a rhythm that maximizes her arousal. My hands were free to wander her body, face to breasts, teasing her nipples, holding her hips. And it was a position that gave me much more control over my orgasm than when doing missionary.

Lisa began a rhythm of pressing her weight down on my pubic bone and ground her hips in little circles around the base of my cock, combined with occasionally alternated that by rocking her hips to give my shaft a few slow, almost full-length in-and-out strokes. All the while I tried to hold my hips upward to give her as much of my cock as I manage.

Meanwhile, my hands were busy. I briefly tried to sneak a thumb onto her clitoris, but that only seemed to distract her -- which is never a good thing. I praised her body, cupping and gently pinching her nipples, caressed her face and arms, holding her hips. I told her how wonderful her vagina felt, so warm and wet and tight, and how much she turned me on.

Lisa listened silently, her eyes now open and glued to mine, grinding and rocking and moaning little "Oh Oh Oh Oh" sighs. "So good," she whispered. "I love feeling your cock inside me. You stretch me open. You get so deep."

"I'm happy to be there," I replied.

"I want to feel you come," she said, still grinding on me. Her eyelids dipped. She looked lost in her thoughts.

"I'm happy to wait for you to come," I told her.

Lisa opened her eyes and refocused on my face, still grinding on me. "I don't think I can come again," she told me.

"No?"

"Rarely. I came hard earlier. Just let me please you."

And, finally, I just relaxed and let it happen. My self control faded, and my focus became more and more on her vagina and what it was doing to my cock. Her lubrication kept increasing with one surge after another. The heat of her silky embrace captured me. Welcomed me. Her hips maintained that steady grinding, now with more clickety clack noises of her flowing juices.

She studied my face, smiling, and steadied herself with outstretched arms and palms flat on my chest. Her hair dangled below her face. "Come for me," she breathed. "Just come for me," she said more insistently. And I did what I was told. My hands now returned to holding her hips, arching higher, entranced by her slick, hot silkiness. Her hips tilted just a bit, and I felt my cockhead briefly brush against the hard rim of her diaphragm, causing me to wince, though that minor discomfort was worth it.