My First Time with Another Girl

My first time "with" another girl, per "the rules."

(Of course we were 18.) She was a somewhat platonic friend in college -- we never "had sex together" as I use the term -- but by the rules I guess that we did. We used to read "really naughty" stories together. We would read "all of the really good parts" out loud to one another as we lay separately in our own beds under our own sheets in our shared dormitory room.

Of course our hands wandered to our nether regions. I hadn't been taught that sex was "dirty." I masturbated as we talked, which she feigned disgust at. I pointed out that she was reading the words that made me want to touch myself. While she was the one missing out on how good it felt. To slowly drag fingers through your own lubricant. To fold your parts over themselves. To indirectly push on the erectile tissue under her fat greasy lips.

Her first boyfriend was a very self-conflicted guy. Both of them were horney teenagers raised in a hypocritical anti-sexual pseudo-religious environment and were living away from home and those restrictions for the first time. Their relationship started with the two of them kissing and fondling each other before deciding that it was (somehow) "wrong." He swatted her on the butt, and the ball swiftly began rolling downhill.

The two of them decided that they could pet if they were contrite afterward. So they would pet (a lot) and then be contrite. At first it was him administering over the knee spankings to her fully clothed behind. She was horney and had been petting. Then she was laying across her would-be-lovers lap and was being spanked. The hand that had just brought her pleasure was bringing her pain and the two mixed together.

We talked about all sex being physical stimulation and we talked about imprinting and we talked about her upbringing and societal expectations and ethics and morality and while we talked we lay in our separate beds, under our separate sheets and we both separately masturbated. Once or twice she suggested that we should both be spanked for masturbating. But I always insisted that we "were doing nothing wrong."

They began to slowly escalate their acts of contrition after petting. She removed her panties so he could swat her bare ass. He managed to lightly drag a finger through her moisture when he did this. She wanted him to fuck her. But instead he spanked her and then she came back to me and our room. We masturbated alone -- but together.

He started using his leather belt, first just on her buttocks. Of course she came back to the dorm and we both masturbated as she described the scene in detail. Perhaps that is where my penchant for story telling came from -- her graphic play-by-play melded with my rich embellishment -- stories of him simply being overcome by desire and fucking her. Delicious fantasy stories of him impregnating her and her going back home for break. Unmarried, with his baby a bump visible to her uptight family.

She confessed her desires to him. But, he never accepted what I saw as an offer that shouldn't be refused. Instead she began to totally disrobe before he whipped her with the leather belt. They decided that since it was her cunt that desired him, her cunt was the part of her that should be punished. He warmed her up by whipping her breasts and her butt and thighs before landing blows on her bare cunt and asshole.

She then got dressed and came back to the dorm room where we talked about what they had just done together. How he wanted to hear her as she confessed her sexual desire for him. How they decided together how many blows of the leather belt she should take and where those blows should land. How she slowly disrobed and aroused him more. How he lightly touched her as they planned her act of contrition.

As we lay in our separate beds, under our separate covers, our hands drifted between our legs we touched the wetness seeping from our holes and we touched ourselves. It was easier for me than her. I didn't have the mental baggage she was burdened with or the red marks on my breasts, the inside of my thighs, or on my Mound of Venus. My cunt burned only with desire; my clitoris and my labia were not abraded by my lover.

We masturbated to orgasm after orgasm as she recounted how after some serious petting she lay naked with him and he did not fuck her as she desired. Instead he brushed her as he took his leather belt, folded it in half and delivered blow after blow to her breasts, and to the insides of her thighs. How he again brushed her as she got up and presented her buttocks to his belt. How she lay with her legs spread wide and took the blows full-force on her cunt.

She told me how he gingerly touched her again as she turned around so that he could whip her asshole. How she then got dressed, her body bruised and burning with more lust than before her act of contrition began. How she kissed him a chaste little kiss and thanked him for not giving in to her "base desire for sex," and came back to the dorm to masturbate -- separately -- but together, with me.