You know guys don't ask directions, right? And they certainly don't ask for help getting sex, but one summer I got excellent advice and help from a couple of friends and achieved a memorable milestone!
I'd had my first sexual experience ("Paradise Found and Lost") and while in the army had found a few girls who, after being bought enough drink or a meal, would drop their panties, roll a condom onto my cock, and let me push it into them.
Then I went to college, and thought I'd find plenty of sex. Not so! Either I was caught up in the "Nice-girls-don't" zone, or there was something wrong with my technique! In a whole year I only got my fingers onto a couple of nipples and my hand between one pair of panty-clad thighs. Desperate times!
My neighbour in College was having a very different experience. He had a series of girl friends each of whom, against regulations, stayed overnight and had to be smuggled out in the morning. A few times Peter asked for my help in checking down the hallways and stairs before a tired and somewhat disheveled girl could slip out and join the students moving towards the first lecture of the day.
"Sorry I couldn't return the favor," Peter said late in the year.
I somehow stumbled out a question about, "How do you do that?" and he revealed his secret: Peter claimed that Nice Girls enjoy sex like anyone else, but want to remain in control, not to have to "wrestle" with a guy trying to force his way. Well, maybe enough wrestling to keep their self respect, but still in control.
His experience was that a girl always said "No" BEFORE she really wanted to stop, just in case. He said he ALWAYS stopped at once, that the girl was then a bit disappointed, and sooner or later would let him get further, and further, and then all the way but on her timetable!
During the summer I had to do my army reserve training for a couple of weeks. Despite being a lot younger, I was a friend of one of the senior NCOs, Fred White, who had been on the advance party to the training camp. Fred had the reputation of being able to find a woman anywhere, and it was no surprise that he was chatting up the canteen manager, Maude, a woman about his age.
Fred insisted that I join him for a beer, and embarrassed me by praising me as a "College Lad" to a young girl Claire, who was serving food and drinks. Claire was just 18, rather plain and slightly plump, but easy to talk to. She showed me some photos of herself wearing an army beret and holding a rifle in front of a truck. Someone from a previous regiment had taken them and sent copies.
"The dirty bastard," she said with a happy smile, "He was always trying to get his hands into my knickers!" Peter's advice flashed into my mind. If that was the limit, what areas were in the OK zone?
"Well, you won't have that problem with me," I told her and she looked surprised. "I'll just ask you politely to take them off for me!" Claire acted insulted and thumped my arm so that my beer spilled. I thought it was progress, though, since somewhere she had registered the thought of taking off her panties for me!
When the canteen closed Claire agreed to go for a walk and we found a quiet corner for a kiss and a feel. I squeezed her breast and she pushed my hand away. We continued to talk and kiss, and presently she took my hand and placed it over a breast, telling me to be gentle with her. The method was working!
Her heavy sweater and a closed blouse beneath prevented any real access, though, and I decided a bold approach was best. "I'd like to see you tomorrow evening," I told her, "But it would be much nicer if you wore something that buttoned up the front!"