Patricia

Patricia and I began dating in our first year at the University, which is more years ago than I care to admit. We'd attended the same high school some fifty miles from the University, although we never dated in high school. She was a thin woman with a pretty face, curly dark brown hair that fell to her shoulder blades, small breasts, and narrow hips. And a soft voice, sparkling eyes, and an almost constant smile.

Even though Patricia was shy, after a few dates during our freshman year she would lie down with me on my dorm room twin bed, and there we'd kiss and cuddle for a half hour at a time. Alas, she steadfastly resisted my initial tentative probing efforts to touch her breasts, let alone let me touch her anywhere else in her Danger Zone. "No, I can't," she'd whisper and push my hand away, and then we'd just continue our kissing and cuddling.

Still, she was fun. Patricia was a great kisser with a playful tongue and occasional little nips of my lips. Interestingly, she didn't complain when my erection inevitably nudged against her during our makeout sessions. She never commented on it. She just ignored it. Did she even realize what it was?

Patricia was also sweetly naïve. When she returned to school from a visit home for Winter Break, she excitedly told me that her older sister, who was a third-year sorority sister at our same University, had announced to the family that she had secretly married her boyfriend a few months earlier and was now almost three months pregnant. I suggested to Patricia that the real story probably had a different chronological ordering -- that her sister had gotten pregnant and only then gotten secretly married. "Oh no!" Patricia insisted in an irritated tone, "My sister would never have had sex before she was married!"

As the Spring semester and my 19-year-old's sexual frustration continued, Patricia and I saw less and less of each other. I began to date another coed who was less sexually inhibited. Patricia went through "rush" at her older sister's sorority. From then on, our paths separated. We remained friends and occasionally bumped into each other on campus across the following three years, although her Greek social circle and my non-Greek social circle had zero overlap.

Which is why it was a surprise to me in the Spring of my senior year I was sitting in the Undergraduate Library one morning and Patricia tapped me on the shoulder. She greeted me with a friendly "Hi!", then asked if she could sit down next to me. "I've been looking for you," she began, "because I wanted to tell you that I'm getting married after graduation!"

"Congratulations! I'm happy for you!"

"Thank you."

I couldn't stop myself from blurting out what I was thinking. "So soon you'll be able to have sex!" Patricia blushed. I realized I had gone too far. "Geez I'm sorry. I didn't mean that in a sarcastic way. It was more of a 'That's good news for you that you're getting married!' way."

Patricia leaned her head closer to mine and whispered, "Actually... I am already doing that. Sex, I mean." Her face was now bright red.

"I thought you wanted to wait until you were married?"

"I did. But... we got engaged last summer. He was persuasive. About sex, I mean. It seemed okay to me, as long as we had a wedding date planned."

"Sure, I get it. So... if I can be so bold as to ask... Are you enjoying it?"

Patricia giggled. Her face wasn't losing its blush. "The sex? It's fun!" she whispered and glanced around to see if anyone else was in earshot of us.

"That's good. I'm happy for you. I know you weren't ready for that back when we were dating."

"No, I wasn't." Patricia looked down at the floor, then back to my face. "I need to go to a class in a few minutes. Then in a quieter voice added, "I'd like to talk more with you. Maybe later today or tomorrow afternoon? I can come to your apartment. There are too many ears around here."

My mind began to race. My apartment? "Sure, either day is good. I'll be at home before 4 both afternoons." I told her the address. "Just drop by."

Patricia's right hand touched the back of my left hand. "Thanks. Probably today, okay? That works better for me." I nodded. She smiled and stood up, and I watched her walk away. She still had narrow hips and a small ass. And it still got my blood flowing.

Later that afternoon, a few minutes after 4pm I heard a knock on my door, and I opened it to see Patricia standing in the hallway. We moved to the living room and sat on the couch. We went through the usual catching-up chitchat about what classes we were each taking and our upcoming exams. When our conversation slowed, Patricia looked down at the floor and said, "I've been thinking about you lately."

"Really? How so?"

"Well..." She paused, then continued, "Since I've started having sex with Brian, I've been remembering how you and I would make out in your dorm room."

"I remember those days."

"And how I wouldn't let you touch me."

"I remember that, too. It's okay. I'm sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable. You were only living by your principles."

"Yes, I was. And I remember how frustrated you were."

"Yes, well. I never wanted you to do anything you didn't want to do."

She continued, "I could feel your erection. Inside your pants, I mean. I knew you wanted more."

"It's okay. Really."

Patricia's voice dropped to a whisper. Her blush returned. "I got wet back then. Thinking about your erection." She paused a few seconds. "I'd get back to my dorm and ... and touch myself."

"I'm flattered. I'd think about you and masturbate, too. It's all normal, don't you think?"

"I guess. And after Brian and I ... started having sex..." She paused for several seconds, once again staring at the floor in front of us, then added, "It made me wonder... what it would be like with you."

I could feel my heart thumping in my chest. My erection was awakening. I decided to remain silent and allow Patricia to finish her thoughts.

She looked up at my face and continued, "Do you think that makes me a bad person? A bad fiancé?"

"Only if you think you are. You're not married yet. You're human. It's normal to have sexual feelings. Aren't you happy having sex with Brian?"

Her nose wrinkled, then she replied, "He's sweet. I enjoy it." She paused, then took a deep breath and continued, "But it's quick."

"Maybe that will improve as time goes by. You'll both get more comfortable with it. Brian can improve his self-control. And he can learn better how to please you. I'm sure it's the newness of sex with you excites him too much."

I leaned toward her and gently kissed her forehead. Then she added, still looking at the floor, "Maybe I shouldn't say this. I remember how your penis felt when our bodies would... you know, press against each other. And when you got hard, it felt... bigger than Brian."

"You've probably heard the expression 'size doesn't matter', right?"

Patricia's eyes returned to mine. "I've heard it." After a moment's silence, she asked, "Are you seeing anyone these days?"

"No, not really. Nothing serious, anyway. My last girlfriend and I broke up a couple of months ago. It was inevitable. I'm heading West for grad school, and she wanted to live close to her family in the East. We decided that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work."

We were both silent again. Patricia studied my face and asked, "Would you... like to... go into your bedroom for a little while?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "I'm sure."

"Okay." I took her hand and led her into my room. Standing next to the bed, we embraced and kissed. "Before this goes any further, I need to tell you... I wasn't expecting this. I don't have any condoms right now."

"It's okay. I'm on the Pill. You can be inside me. I'm safe. I assume you're safe."

"I am. How long have you been on the Pill?"

Patricia wrinkled her nose. "A couple of months. Before that Brian used a condom."

"So not very long without a condom."

"No, not long. We've done it without a condom just a few times. I like it. It's kinda messy, but ..." She was blushing again. "I really like it. That makes me sound slutty, doesn't it?"

"Not at all. I think it's what sex is supposed to feel like."

Patricia nodded, still beet red. Clearly this was all new to her.

"Would you like to lie down?" I asked.

"Yes."

We both slipped our shoes off and moved onto the bed. Three years after our freshman year, once again we were lying side by side, facing each other and kissing. And this time, when my left hand cupped her right breast, Patricia moaned softly in my mouth and didn't push my hand away. Her mouth left mine, briefly, and she murmured, "Please touch me."

I slid my hand beneath her blouse and up to her bra. It was a tight fit, and Patricia unbuttoned her blouse to give my hand more room. I reached behind her back and unclipped her bra. "Wait," she said, sitting up and shrugging off her blouse and bra, dropping them onto the floor, and then lying back down on the bed.

Patricia's topless body was a marvel of smooth, flawless skin and small, firm breasts, each topped by a hardened brown nipple. "You're gorgeous," I told her, and she smiled. We resumed kissing, and our tongues were dancing together again.

Soon Patricia was on her back, and my hand roamed from one small breast to the other. I caressed, I gave gentle pinches to her nipples, and Patricia answered with little gasps and moans and soft murmurs. My mouth then followed, trailing my tongue around each nipple, giving each an encouraging suck and ever so gentle nibble.

It was then that I felt her hand on my erection through my pants. "I want to touch you," she breathed. "Is that okay?"

"How do you want to do this?" I asked. "Do you want to get naked?"

"Yes," was her whispered response.

I stood up beside the bed and removed my tshirt. Patricia stared at my chest. Then I unbuckled my belt, unzipped, and pulled down my levis and underwear. My erection was in full bloom, with its slight curve and jutting up at a 45-degree angle. Her eyes remained glued to it. I looked down and saw that I was leaking precum.

"That's only the second one that I've ever seen," she said.

"Should I not have taken off my pants? Is this okay?"

"Sorry, I just got distracted. I'll take mine off, too. I'm just a little embarrassed."

"Embarrassed about what?"

"You'll be only the second man to see me naked."

"From what I've seen so far, your body is beautiful and exciting. You have nothing to be embarrassed about."

Patricia lay on the bed, unbuckled and unzipped, then arched her back and squirmed her pants off, leaving only white bikini panties. I got a glimpse of dampness over her mound. "Here goes," she said. She took a deep breath, then hooked her thumbs inside the waistband and slid those down to her ankles and off, dropping them on the floor on top of the rest of her clothes. She kept her legs together, timidly exposing her trimmed dark pubic hair. She was blushing crimson red again.

"You really are gorgeous, you know."

"You're just saying that."

"I'm saying the truth."

I got back into bed next to her, and we lay on our sides, face to face, and resumed our deep kisses. I gently nudged her shoulder to encourage her to lie flat, and she got the hint. My hands began to roam everywhere, from breasts to thighs to her pubic hair, and her legs spread wider apart, allowing me to graze her swelling vulva, the edges of her inner labia and the barest of touches of her hardened clit. Patricia's hand found my erection and remained there. I didn't mind.

"Can I taste you?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I want to put my mouth on you. Down there."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure. Doesn't Brian do that?"

"No."

I didn't give her time to do much thinking about it. I slid my body lower and lower, kissing and suckling her breasts, moving down her tummy toward the Promised Land. I positioned myself between her legs and gently urged them to spread wider. Now I could see her pouting labia, pink and slightly separated and glistening with her lubrication. Her clitoris was a noticeable bump at the top.

My face homed in, slowly though assertively, at first kissing her inner thighs, then zeroing in on her vulva. The scent of her arousal made my heart pound and my erection stiffen into steel. Patricia's breathing quickened, and she gave out little grunts and gasps. When my tongue swept upward between her labia that first time, spreading her lips and grazing up the stiff stem of her clit, Patricia exhaled a loud groan and bucked her hips. "Oh god oh god oh god" was all I remember hearing. I was busy at the time, enjoying the taste and aroma of her honeyed juices.

"Do you like doing that?" she asked the top of my head.

"I absolutely love it," I replied. I went to work to figure out how my mouth could best please her. Soon I settled into what seemed to be a successful pattern of steady, medium firm licks, slowly up and down her open vulva, with an occasional gentle suck of her clit that made her squeak and pant and squirm. When I added a curled finger inside her vagina, then two, that was an even bigger hit. Inside she was snug, hot, silky smooth and slick.

Patricia's noises got louder and louder, her body wriggled and her hips bucked against my mouth. My inserted fingers felt her g-spot roughen, and I heard her breathing accelerate to almost hyperventilating, then her body stiffened and she exhaled a loud, long, throaty, guttural groan as her hands pulled the back of my head to firmly jam my mouth against her inflamed lips.

When her orgasm tapered off and her grip on my head relaxed, I looked up at her face. She had perspiration on her forehead. "How was that?" I asked.

Patricia was still trying to catch her breath. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I've had some practice," I chuckled. I slid my body up next to hers and resumed my caresses of her face and her breasts.

"I think I've discovered a new favorite thing," she told me.

"I think I enjoyed doing it just as much as you seem to enjoy it."

Her hand found my erection again. "I don't think so. I'm limp, and you're not."

"So what do we do about that?"

Her eyes glued to mine. "Do you want to be inside me?"

I smiled. "Of course. What do you like? Do you want to be on top? Or have me on top? Or what?"

"You on top. I want to hold you. You seem to know more about what you're doing than I do."

I eased my body above her, and Patricia opened her legs and lifted her knees. I hovered there, holding my weight off her body with my arms, adjusting my hips and legs. Patricia's arms curled up below my armpits and wrapped around my shoulders. My cock found her slickness, and I brushed my shaft up and down between her slippery labia to get myself wet. We stared at each other's face. "Are you ready?" I asked.

Patricia's hands cradled my face. "Yes. I want to feel you inside," she whispered, and my hips nudged forward. My cockhead poised at her opening, and with just the slightest of pushes it popped inside her snug entrance ring. Her brown eyes opened wide, and her mouth opened. "Ohhhhh," she breathed with a quick gasp. Her vagina was slick velvet. I edged another inch inside, then retreated half of that advance, then forward again, this time with two inches. Patricia exhaled a soft "Ohhh" at every intrusion.

"Is this okay?" I asked.

She nodded, barely able to breathe out a "Yes." After three more slowly invading strokes I was buried inside her hot sheath, my pubic bone pressing firmly against hers, focusing intently on suppressing my orgasm. Her vagina embraced my shaft from head to base. It was glorious.

"Do you like my body?" she breathed.

"You're incredible," I told her. "You're a furnace inside." I withdrew a couple of inches and stroked back in again. "And you're really wet." I was acutely aware that she was not only sharing an extremely intimate part of herself with me, and that I was also, however briefly, replacing her husband-to-be's penis with my own.

Patricia gaze never stopped studying at my face. I asked her, "How does this feel for you?"

"You feel big."

"I'm about average, I think."

"Then I don't want to feel above average." My hips gave a little circular swirl that stretched her entrance with the root of my cock. Her breaths quickened. "Oh you're so hard. So deep. Are my breasts big enough?"

"You look incredible and feel incredible," I told her. "You really turn me on." I slowly withdrew to having just my cockhead inside her, then just as slowly back into her glorious velvety warmth until my pubic bone again pressed firmly against her swollen lips and clit. Patricia moaned and pushed her hips back at mine. My cockhead briefly touched her cervix, and Patricia's eyes opened wide and she exhaled a gasp.

"Did that hurt?" I asked.

"No. You just feel all the way up inside me." I could feel her lubrication increase. I knew my precum was adding to it.

I couldn't help myself. I knew that I would last longer if I remained motionless inside her and just allow my cock to soak in the heaven that was her vagina, but I had an intense desire to stroke in and out, to feel my sensitive skin sliding against hers, to feel the magnificent pleasure of being snugly held by her vagina. Maybe, just maybe, I thought to myself, I could keep some degree of control if my thrusts were slow, if Patricia's noises weren't too arousing, if her hips didn't meet my thrusts and urge me to go faster, to go harder.

But it was not to be. I was inside a woman who had been in my mind for the past three years. She was sharing herself with me and seemingly enjoying my body. My slow thrusts inexorably increased in tempo and strength. Her breaths came faster and faster, her little grunts and gasps and moans and whimpers louder and louder. Her knees raised and her ankles hooked just above my ass and tried to match the motion of my inward thrusts.

"I'm going to come soon," I warned her. "Is it okay... inside... you?"

"I want to feel it," she grunted. "Yes. Inside."

A few seconds later I surrendered to the inevitable with a final "Feel what you do to me! Now!", digging my knees into the mattress and muscling my shaft as deep inside her as I could manage. Seemingly every muscle of my body stiffened that instant before the first explosion of pleasure. I was vaguely aware of Patricia's fingernails digging into my back, holding me close, and then my liquid pulses began firing. One, two, three, four. My paralysis eased enough to allow me to withdraw back a few inches and drive back in again. Five, six. The seventh pulse was weaker, and the eighth even weaker. I became aware of my own primal groans as I filled her with my white liquid heat.

It was intense. When my body finally relaxed and as I struggled to draw in oxygen, Patricia's fingertips danced across my perspiring back. "That was," she murmured into my ear, "pretty amazing." She kissed my neck. My mouth found hers again and we locked in a long, wet kiss.

"Did you come again?" I asked.

"No. That's ok. You felt wonderful."

"Do you... with Brian?"

Patricia was silent, and her hands on my back went still. "Oh I'm sorry," I told her. "I don't mean to pry."

Her hands resumed their stroking. "It's okay. No, I don't with him. When he's inside me, anyway. From his fingers I do. Sometimes." My erection softened to the point where I slipped out of her vagina. I raised my body up a few inches, glancing down between her legs to see the soup of my white semen mixed with her juices leaking out of her. "I need to go to the bathroom and clean up a bit," she told me. "Otherwise I'm going to leave a big wetspot on your bed."

I laughed. "I don't mind." I rolled to her side, and Patricia rolled toward the other side and got to her feet, cupping a hand over her mound.