A Kinky Virgin's First Time Ch. 1
My name's Veronica Sawyer. I’m eighteen years old and still a rarity: a virgin. I’m shy around boys, but inside, I’ m really a kink, in fact, a sex fiend. I could be looking you in the eye and talking to you, all the while fantasizing about what your cock looks like, what you’d be like in bed. It makes me hot just thinking about it. I have all kinds of fantasies: in a movie theater, in the bathtub, in an ice rink, at a picnic, on the beach, under the bleachers. In a room covered with mirrors, on videotape, in the backseat of a car. I think about boys at school, the man on the television, a scene in a movie. I have to work off pent up sexual energy furiously with my hands at night. Lately, I’ve been feeling like a bitch in heat, fantasizing about both men and women, masturbating 2-3 times a day. This is how I imagine my first time.
This man would be older than me, maybe his late twenties or early thirties, but still beautiful. First, I’d strip down to my lacy black bra and panties. I’d help him take his shirt off. My hands would trace his sides. He would be muscular, and his skin would be warm, so warm he’d be almost hot. And he’d wrap his arms around me, and they’d make me feel safe, safe and desired. My body would conform to his; our breath would synchronize. He’d touch me, and I’d feel the rough pads of his fingers on my skin, the touch of gentle, experienced hands.
I’d unhook my bra in the back, and slowly pull down one strap, then the other, and modestly pull it away from my skin. My breasts are small, but perky and perfect. He’d kiss my forehead, my mouth, my neck, my shoulders. His soft hair would brush against my neck, tickling me. His hands on my stomach, he’d suck my nipples. His mouth would be warm, and moist, but not too wet, making my nipples hard and protrude.
His hands would move to my buttocks and he would clutch the cheeks in his hands and lift me up to him, to his mouth, drawing me closer to his hardness. I’d wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and kiss him deeply, our tongues hot and hungry. Then he’d throw me on the bed. He’d get down on his knees, and lift my leg up, and kiss it moving upward, starting with my toes. He’d kiss the spot behind my knees, and slowly move up my thighs, making me tremble in anticipation.
He’d flick the outside of my silk panties with his tongue, then bite onto them and pull them down my legs. I sit up, my legs hanging over the side of the bed. He’d stand up, put his hands under my chin to cradle my head, and kiss me. I’ll unbuckle his belt, pull it off, then unbutton and unzip his pants, no small feat considering that my hands are trembling. He wore boxer briefs--my final barrier to heaven, which he soon discarded. I clutched his throbbing tool, and dipped my head down to suck its tip. He leaned back, enjoying himself for a minute. Then he took my hands, and lifted them above my head. It was so hot being dominated.