Embarrassing 2

Embarrassing

I was taking my evening walk recently, listening to Leonard Cohen on my iPhone when the song "Closing Time" reminded me of probably the most embarrassing incident ever. It was so embarrassing that I had locked it away as far from my conscious thoughts as possible. That is until the bloody song "Closing Time" brought back memories of that awful night in the early seventies.

My company had just moved a bunch of us up to the Manchester area and some commuters were spending about four nights a week flat sharing while house hunting.

We were all in our mid twenties with the work hard play hard ethic, and if you force a whole load of hormonal youngsters together, the result was likely to be pretty hot.

We didn't party every night, but sometimes it felt like it. On this particular night we were out at a club with a number of girls from work. We were all young, they were all attractive, and there was alcohol thrown into the mix. Leonard Cohen says it best!

Ah, we're drinking and we're dancing

And the band is really happening

And the Johnny Walker wisdom running high

And my very sweet companion

She's the Angel of Compassion

She's rubbing half the world against her thigh

The night drew to a close and the dancing had become more suggestive, not sexual, but suggestive, when Rosie invited us back to her flat for a night cap. Some of the girls make their excuses and head for their flats, but I and three other blokes head for Rosie's.

Rosie is about five foot six, a very self assured blond lady in her mid twenties with a fine figure, by that I mean nice tits, not huge but not tiny either and a pert bum. In other words very desirable. She also has some fine dance moves, something I do not.

Spoiler alert! This is 1970s, it is not going to end in a gang bang! I was very inexperienced sexually. I know, what about the 60s? Dunno must have missed that bit.

Rosie goes to the kitchen and the four of us make ourselves comfortable in her lounge. She returns with the coffee, yes coffee! The night had been long and there had been more than enough alcohol already. Leonard Cohen again.

Ah, we're lonely, we're romantic

And the cider's laced with acid

And the Holy Spirit's crying, 'Where's the beef?'

And the moon is swimming naked

And the summer night is fragrant

With a mighty expectation of relief

While Rosie is in the kitchen I learn a snippet from the others that she is something of a man eater. Good fun, shares a joke with the boys and occasionally her bed.

Rosie is now sat beside me and we are getting on really rather well. When she leaves the room the others stare at me.

"Shall we go?"

I couldn't very well say, just bugger off! I simply said that I was OK, pathetic really!

"Are you sure you're OK, if we go?"

"I'll be fine."

When Rosie returned, they got up and left, and I just sat there with my coffee cup in hand as if I hadn't finished. The front door closed and Rosie returned to sit beside me. I hoped I knew where this was going, as she lent in and we kissed. We kissed with passion and I slipped my hand inside her blouse to feel only the second breast of my life. I was getting seriously aroused. There was lots of kissing, lots of inexpert fumbling. At least I knew better than to grab her breasts, so I massaged them gently through her bra while our tongues danced the usual pre mating ritual, and my cock throbbed in my trousers, I was seriously turned on.

Leonard Cohen.

All the women tear their blouses off

And the men they dance on the polka-dots

And it's partner found, it's partner lost

And it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops

It's closing time

We make our way to her bedroom. Who is leading whom? I don't remember, but I expect she led me. I was far too inexperienced to take the lead in that situation. So we staggered, still seriously pissed, into her bedroom and the clothes started to come off.

Leonard Cohen again.

So we struggle and we stagger

Down the snakes and up the ladder

To the tower where the blessed hours chime

And I swear it happened just like this

A sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss

The Gates of Love they budged an inch

I can't say much has happened since

We are two adults who know what is about to happen. We are both naked, both turned on, both fondling each other. I now stroke her naked breasts, marvel at the stiffening nipple while running my other hand down between her legs.

Our mouths continue the ritual as my hand locates her sex.

Hot!

Wet!

Ready!

She's moaning slightly into my open mouth as the tension builds to near breaking point.

Oh please don't touch my cock or I'll cum, I'm that far gone.

"Get a johnny on."

Crash! The whole world stopped spinning. What? A condom? This was long after the invention of the pill, and long before the discovery of AIDS, at least among heterosexuals. I had fully expected her to be on the pill, unreasonable by today's standards, but then?

"I haven't got one."

"What do you mean, you haven't got one. Fuck!"

She continued to berate me for my incompetence and lack of planning, before her desire overcame her embarrassment. She reached into the bedside table and produced one.

I expect she didn't want me to think that she had so much sex that she needed her own supply of condoms, and that she was prepared even if I wasn't.

I put it on.

Now remember the scene so far. Lots of alcohol, a highly charged atmosphere, deep kissing and fumbling with unfamiliar breasts, caressing of naked bodies, and finally fingering only the second wet fanny of my life. Now combine this with a very inexperienced bloke and it's a recipe for disaster.

Rosie, satisfied that I had the condom on, was ready to satisfy her lust and, to be truthful, I was ready too: more than ready.

She rolled onto her back, spread her legs and lifted her knees. I only had time to notice that she was a natural blond, as the tip of my cock found its target and I lowered myself into her.

I immediately had that awful sensation of being just about to cum. I hadn't even stroked it in and out once yet, but I knew if I moved, it would all be over. I lay perfectly still as our tongues battled.

"Well move!" She said.

I didn't dare!

"Move." She said exasperated. Then eventually.

"I can't cum."

I think this was the first time a girl had talked to me about cuming: naïve! But it gave me the excuse I needed. I certainly didn't want a premature ejaculation, that would be worse than no sex at all.

"If you can't cum, then I shan't either," and slowly I withdrew my cock, fortunately without ejaculating. "Sorry!"

There was a very long and very embarrassed silence while I got dressed and took a taxi back to the flat.

The next morning, still feeling less than special, I went round to Rosie's to apologise and rang the bell. A very sleepy form appeared at the door, dressed in night clothes and a dressing gown. She looked gorgeous!

I apologised profusely and she smiled softly.

"Want a coffee?" Said the sleepy voice.

"I'd much rather take you back to bed," said my newly confident voice, "try to make up for last night."

She turned and went back to her room. Was this an invitation?

"We can have coffee after!"

It was, I followed. I remember pealing off the layers as I shed my own clothes. Dressing gown, nightie fell away until she stood naked in front of me. We kissed a sleepy kiss as I gently massaged those lovely full breasts and allowed my hands to roam over her buttocks.

As we lay down she reached between my legs, found my erection and stroked it gently. There was plenty of lust as we kissed more and more deeply, my hand found her fanny again. Lovely soft wet fanny.

I reached into a pocket of my discarded jeans and produced a condom. Rosie smiled as I put it on and she rolled onto her back, assuming the pose that had caused so much trouble the night before.

I penetrated. That first long slow penetrating stroke that had so nearly brought disaster.

Leonard Cohen.

And I swear it happened just like this

A sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss

The Gates of Love they budged an inch

And this time I moved.

Gently at first, taking my clues from the way she reacted. When she clasped my buttocks, I moved faster. Then her 'Gates of Love' opened fully and she started to writhe below me. I felt her force her pelvis up against the base of my cock. Slowly at first, then with more and more urgency. I increased the pace, but as more of a rocking of my pelvis on hers than the classic in and out movement.

Her writhing got more and more urgent, really forcing her pelvis into mine.

"Yes......

"Fuck yes.......

"Oh shit.......

"Shit.......

Her voice had been getting louder and louder, and her movements more and more urgent.

"Fuck!.......

"Oh fuck...."

Now almost a scream. I felt her fingernails dig into my bum in a desperate attempt to bring us even closer.

"I'm fucking coming......

"I want to feel you cum.....

"Fucking cum, damn you!"

The fingernails dug in painfully and she dragged them all the way up my back. Then a full, top of the voice, scream

"FUCK."

The form below me went limp, spent and presumably, satisfied. The screaming had been too much for me, I had never experienced it before and it took eroticism to the next level. That and the bucking bronco below me with her fingernails digging trenches up my back, had taken me to the very edge and, as I felt the contractions of her orgasming cunt, I filled the condom, ecstatic, but relieved that this time she had cum, there simply was no doubt about it.

We never shagged again. I was one if her one night stands, even if I hadn't managed to perform on that one night. Shortly after, she met a lovely bloke at work, somewhat younger than she was (meow) and she eventually married him.

I felt slightly awkward, knowing him and knowing I had shagged his wife but I guess he knew she was no virgin. Of course I never said anything, but I couldn't help but imagine them in the throes of passion, with her scraping her nails from his bum to his shoulders, screaming, "Cum you bastard, cum." She remains the only screamer who ever had me! Lucky chap.

Of course I want your opinion! Don't hold back! Did it ring true to you? Without the Leonard Cohen song I might have erased the whole embarrassing interlude from my mind. However, this far on, it doesn't seem quite so bad! Thanks Leonard and thanks Rosie, but I am keen to hear from you, the reader.