My first orgasm? It was in my first car, the one I referred to as the turd-mobile, as it was shaped just like one on wheels with a non-descript tannish-brown color, tapered on both ends. Like that joke, "Why are turds tapered?" "So your ass doesn't slam shut." Anyway, I mean the car, not the orgasm.
My attraction to Jesse started when he laughed at my dumb jokes. 6'2" and blond, he had gold in the front of his smile, capping a slightly crooked front tooth. He was 'nice' in that fourth-generation Scandinavian/upper Midwestern kind of way; everybody liked him. Considering I'd had a fling with his best friend earlier in the summer, which ultimately ended in me getting fired from my job, he should have been totally off limits. If anything, it reconciled my former co-woker and me back to our friendship at least, due in no small part to said buddy boy more or less setting us up. I'd never held any credence for other people's rules.
His sport was wrestling; he was a state finalist. He was extremely built, but not bulky and he was ripped. I've always been your garden variety short, stocky, wide-hipped German. Jesse man-handled me like I was just a little wisp of a girl. He wasn't shy about grabbing and squeezing, moving me to where he wanted me. I'd known him for thirty-six hours and he was to be leaving in the morning when this story played itself out. We never saw each other again.
To back up just a little, the previous night had been spent in a barn with about a dozen other people who worked at summer camp. For hours, we'd made out and groped, trying to be inconspicuous, zipping our sleeping bags together. Everything about him was hard, intense--from the ice-blue eyes to his washboard abs to his throbbing nine-inch prick. Even just playing with it, I knew I'd never seen one that big. Moreover he bit, he sucked, he prodded long elegant fingers around and into me till I was bruised and sore but still not satisfied. His sexual mein was like he was starving.
So that next night we took off, speeding crazily down a gravel road in the mountains. It was pitch moonless black, and I had dirty headlights. All we cared about was getting away and crossing as many boundaries as possible. With his tongue in my ear, fingers up my cunt; me trying to drive with one hand, the other wrapped around his own personal stick shift, we eventually found a secluded spot and pulled over.