Sweet Saras First Time

*grins* So, you want to know one of the most personal experiences of my life. Alright, here you go. May I ask for your story in return? As you will see, I love to talk about my life experiences (but I do admit, I have lived quite a sheltered life until recently). Writing erotic thoughts and putting them into stories is one of my passions.

Lets see. . . . . . . where do I begin? Aaaaahhhhhh, yes, I know.

It was my first year in a public school. What a different world it was from the catholic school I had attended all the rest of my life.

I met this guy in one of my classes. I had noticed him quite a bit, but was too shy to say anything. He was gorgeous. At least 6' tall, probably more, very thin and athletic. He was a runner, had that lean runner's build. He was sandy blond (it was unusual for me to be attracted to a blond) with brown eyes. He had the goofiest smile. I am assuming he must have noticed I was always looking back at him because eventually he came up to me just after class and asked my number. I gave it to him, and was giggly the whole rest of the day. I remember going home and not being out of arms reach of the phone all evening long. To make this part of the story short, we started talking on the phone every night, and writing notes and handing them to each other in between classes. This went on for about two weeks.

I don’t remember exactly how the subject of sex came up, but I do remember telling him that my parents were going to the mountains to do something with the boy scouts and my brother. (I still lived at home with my family at that time.) He asked if he could come over. I said yes. We planned on having sex. I never told him that it was my first time. (In fact, I told him it wasn’t my first time, being embarrassed to be a virgin.)

That Saturday finally came. It was a very cold frosty day in February. He arrived at my house around 10 am. I had showered and put on these white lace string bikini panties I had bought and one of my dad's big button down shirts. I opened the door and there was his goofy grin. He came in and closed the door. We went into the living room and sat down on the couch. He immediately began kissing me. I could feel myself burning down in my stomach and my panties were already drenched. (That was very embarrassing to me back then. If I only knew that was really a good thing!)

He laid me back on the couch and lay down between my legs. He began grinding his hips against me while still kissing me. I can remember feeling his hard cock pushing so hard against me thru the clothes. He asked if we could go to my room. We got up and went.

He laid me down on my bed and began kissing me again. He began unbuttoning the shirt. Then took it off me and looked at me with that huge goofy grin. His eyes were so wide. He began kissing my breasts. Oh my, that had never been done before. . . . . I had been groped but never kissed or licked there. I cannot describe the waves of pleasure coursing thru my body at this point. He then pulled off my panties and slipped his fingers down into my pussy. I was so embarrassed that I had soaked them, and soaked the front of his pants. He never said anything about it. I had never been touched there either, I don’t believe, I actually can’t remember. He began fingering me hard, and then added another finger, then a third. I remember it was almost starting to hurt. I was whimpering with each thrust, but thoroughly enjoying myself.

He then undressed himself, put a condom on and crawled back between my legs. His hot skin felt so heavenly. The feeling of his cock slipping up and down between my lips was heavenly. Then he found the hole, and gave a push. That didn’t feel quite as good. He pushed again and I remember screaming out. Oh my, I didn’t think sex was supposed to hurt like that. He pushed again, and I remember saying to him no, he had to get out. I think at that point he had sank all the way in, because he then started pumping in and out of me. I remember being at the verge of tears, telling him to stop because it hurt too bad, grasping at his hips and pushing back on them, trying to squeeze him out from in between my legs.

But he still kept pumping, harder and harder. I don’t remember how long it took him, but I don’t think it really could have been that long. The whole time I begged him to stop, pushed against him trying to get him out of me, then tried holding him still inside me. Nothing worked. Finally he came. He came hard, I remember him groaning hard then laying down on top of me pulling out and resting his cock on the outside of my lips.

He kissed me a little bit more, asked me if I was ok. I don’t think I was crying, but I was probably shaking uncontrollably. He tried to slip a finger inside me again, but the burn was too much, I pushed his hand away quickly.

He kissed me again, told me thank you, then got dressed and left.

Even though my memory here sounds as if I didn’t enjoy it, it is a very fond memory. I always read through this story and feel that burning return deep down. Over the years I have lost touch with him, but I will never forget him, and the feel of his hot skin against mine. (He and I only had a sexual relationship, nothing more.) Sometimes I wish I could still know and feel him.