The Only One Ive Ever Lusted For

***Yes, it is safe to assume that those involved in sexual acts are at least 18.

Also, this story is completely true. This is an account of the events of and leading up to my first time. There is very little actual dialogue because it seems like so much has happened since then that I barely remember much of what was said. What dialogue there is has been altered very, very little. I have also not used names because it's just so much easier to not use a name rather than trying to find one that suits the guy better than his actual name.

I have not exaggerated anything in this piece so when you get to my measurements of the guy's piece, don't roll your eyes; it's all true. Even I'm still amazed that he's so big. The last time I saw it was the first time in two years I'd seen it and it was all I could do to keep from saying, "Holy crap! I forgot how huge it is!" Yes, the time gap of my not seeing it means that we didn't last. We've been broken up for a while now and though I'm still madly in love with him, he's moved on and I'm stuck still being unable to lust for anyone other than him, though that hasn't stopped me from doing stuff with the men I've managed to be with (all of whom were asses and none could even come close to my ex in size and definitely none were able to make me cum so much I'd go dry like my ex did). It's sad but it happens.

This story isn't terribly graphic seeing as really not a lot happened when we did get into things, but I tried to make those parts as entertaining as I possibly could without adding anything to spice it up. Just enjoy how naïve I was cause I was very sorely innocent.***

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It'd taken me two months to get him to ask me to be his girlfriend. It all started on the day we were introduced over the internet by a mutual friend and I fell madly in love with him. For no reason whatsoever I'd become instantly attracted to him. All he'd said was, "Hi," and the wall I'd built around my heart and kept up for years was demolished.

Apparently I'd interested him as well. We talked every day since the day we met and after a few weeks we told each other how we felt, but he refused to ask me out. He had trust issues thanks to problems in his childhood and didn't want to jump into anything. Regardless, we engaged in online sex and were constantly talking about how much we were into each other.

Then there was the day where I thought I'd lost him. I thought I'd try and see if I could get him to see that he might as well ask me to be his girlfriend because we already acted like a couple. We talked all the time, we hung out whenever we could by going to the movies, hanging out at my grandmother's place in town and watching T.V., taking long walks and chatting. We just never kissed or held hands. It's not that neither of us wanted to, the sexual tension between us was so thick it could be cut with a knife. I just stood by my rule of not engaging in anything like that unless it was with a guy I was dating. It was also because I'd yet to have my first kiss and so was exceptionally nervous. This guy, for some reason, was the only man I'd ever met who instilled a sense of lust in me. I'd never wanted to kiss any other guy I'd been with.

But this one day as I was trying to get him to see we were pretty much a couple already, he told me he just couldn't do that. He took dating seriously and since he'd only known me for little over a month, he still wasn't sure about me as a girlfriend. Then he told me he'd decided to ask out a girl at his school. When I read his text (as we were chatting online at the time) I felt my heart stop for a moment and it felt like this gaping hole opened up in the center of my chest.

He knew I liked him and he'd told me he liked me and yet, here he was telling me he was going to go for this other girl. What was worse was that he'd told me of this girl before. She was one of the school sluts, sleeping with nearly everything that moved. I couldn't understand why he would think to ask her out. He'd said that she had liked him since freshman year but he'd been too hesitant to do anything about it. I tried to get him to not do it by reminding him what he'd told me of her, but he wouldn't listen.

In the end I realized that it didn't matter if I could be his or not, as long as he was in my life. I thought I'd loved him before this, but with that thought I knew, without a doubt, that I was really in love with him. With a sigh I typed in that I hoped he got what he wanted and that I still wanted to be his friend. Though, if things didn't go the way he wanted I would be there for him. If she hurt him I'd find her and hurt her. He had a good laugh at that last bit.

After our chat that night, I had a horrible time getting to bed. All I could think about was that the guy I loved was going to try and be with another girl. I cried myself to sleep that night.

The next day I dreaded the time I would get on the net to talk to him, but I also couldn't wait. Talking to him was the highlight of my days. When the time came, my heart was in my throat and my hands shook as I signed into my messenger account.

He messaged me as soon as I was on. We went through the normal pleasantries and greetings. I couldn't bring myself to ask him how it went with his classmate. As much as I did want to know, so I could stop wondering and start dealing, I also didn't want to know. Somehow, though, we got onto that topic and he told me it hadn't gone well. By the time he got to school that day, some other guy had asked her out and she'd accepted. I said I was sorry that it turned out like that. I knew how he felt. I'd be lying, though, if I said I wasn't celebrating inside. Feeling it would be wrong to mention anything about what we had between us, I just had him talk about it some more so he could get it all out and start feeling better.

After that things continued more like they had before he'd mentioned the other girl, the only exception that he seemed more into me than before. Our phone conversations were longer (if that was possible since they'd already been at least six hours) and we got together more than before. I had taken to spending a lot of time at my grandmother's house since it was in the same town, which meant he could come over more often.

Exactly two months after we met we were chatting online, yet again, and the conversation turned to our feelings. Once again I began trying to get him to see that we might as well be in a relationship. I know it sounds annoying but I can be very persistent when I want something and I just didn't see what was holding him back. Not to mention I wanted so badly to kiss him but without us dating, I couldn't do that.

I was surprised when he finally said okay. But he didn't elaborate on that so I pushed him a little further, telling him I wanted him to really ask me. Now I was just messing with him, but also I wanted to be absolutely sure his okay meant we were dating. It took him a few minutes before he finally typed it out, asking me to be his girlfriend. When the message finally popped up on the screen I bit back a squeal and excitedly type, "Yes!"

That Friday I'd gone into town to spend the weekend at my grandma's. Early that evening, he came over and we sat on the couch cuddling, watching television and chatting. Eventually I went to the bathroom, passing by my grandma's room along the way. On my way back out my grandmother got my attention and asked, "Don't you think it's time for him to go home?" I looked at the clock and it was 1:30 in the morning. I sighed and said okay and made my way back into the living room.

In the doorway to the living room I stopped and looked at him sitting on the couch. He looked up from the T.V. and noted the sad expression on my face and asked what was wrong. Before I could stop myself I was across the living room in a flash and throwing my arms around his neck.

"I don't want you to go yet," I pouted into his shoulder.

"What?" he asked as he hugged me tightly to him.

"It's late and apparently my grandma's been waiting up until you leave. She wants you to go now. I don't want you to, though."

He grew quiet and I could feel his body stiffen beneath me. I felt his head pull back and I had the feeling that maybe he was taking his chance to kiss me. So I pulled back a bit myself and looked at him questioningly. We stared at each other for a moment and then he bent his head in and gave me a quick, nervous peck on the lips. I melted at how sweet it was. To me, it was the perfect first kiss.

We looked at each other again and I smiled at him and he chuckled nervously.

"Sorry, that was kind of lame," he said.

Laughing I replied, "It wasn't lame, it was sweet. I liked it. But..." I bit my lip and chuckled quietly then looked back at him. "I think we could try that again, though."

He smiled at me then and we each came together and kissed softly. Within seconds the gentle kiss turned heated and we were grabbing at each other pulling the other closer, never getting enough contact. Several minutes went by before we came up for air and started laughing quietly.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was near two in the morning. I knew my grandma was getting impatient so I stood up, grabbing his hand, and made my way into the foyer where I shut us inside. We stood there, him looking down at me, I up at him then we threw our arms around each other again and began another make-out session in the foyer.

We kissed once, twice, three times. I felt the tip of his tongue at my lips on the third kiss and so figured what the hell and on the fourth kiss opened my mouth for my first french kiss. Our hands were everywhere then, our breath coming short and fast. My knees were beginning to give way so I pulled back. Panting, I looked around and saw the sewing machine table sitting against the wall. With a mischievous smile I tugged his shirt to pull him along with me as I backed against the table and then hopped up on it.

I pulled him between my knees and threaded my arms around his neck then hooked my legs behind his back and pulled him into me. His lips came down on mine, my fingers moving up into his hair pulling his mouth harder to me. This time as we kissed my chest was crushed against his and our hips ground into each other, soft moans escaping from both of us.

Slowly his hand snaked from my waist to my back and slipped up under the hem of my shirt. My skin burned where his fingers touched and sent chills rippling up and down my body. I began to feel a tingling heat between my legs and a dampness I'd never felt before. His hand came around front, trailing along my skin, and sliding up to my breast. Slipping one hand beneath my bra he cupped one breast in his large hand and began kneading it and running a thumb over my nipple, eliciting a groan from my throat.

I pushed my crotch harder against his and pulled him to me more with my legs. Eventually his hand left my breast and found the top of my pants. He hesitated for a moment before dipping his fingers below the waistband and just left his hand cupping my sex. We continued our heated kissing until I felt his fingers begin to move and I had to stop him. Unfortunately it was my time of the month and I didn't want him to find the tampon or find out that I was on my period.

I sat there panting hard, the tingling between my legs had become a throbbing pain and as much as I wanted him to continue, I knew we couldn't go further that night. Reluctantly I told him he should go and we kissed one last time and hugged, then I watched him walk out the door.

After our first kiss we took every chance to get a few minutes alone and were groping at each other frantically, our mouths never leaving each other. Many weekend nights were spent in my grandmother's foyer, me sitting on the sewing table and him standing between my legs. Each time there was one reason or another that I couldn't let him go further than just putting his hand on my mound. I wanted to feel his fingers inside me so badly but just couldn't. And each time I had to watch him walk away, both of us unsatisfied.

It wasn't until one day when we were going to the movies that anything happened. We got out of the car and began making our way towards the theater, hand in hand, when a car drove by and stopped abruptly a few yards in front of us. The passenger door opened and out stepped my ex, the one who hadn't wanted to be seen in public with me. Though I couldn't stand him for that, it wasn't a big deal seeing as I saw him more like a brother than a romantic interest. We'd remained good friends. I hadn't seen him in years because his mother had passed away and he moved a hundred miles away to live with his cousins and grandparents.

When I saw him and heard him yell out my name I smiled, letting go of my boyfriend's hand, and ran to my friend, throwing my around his neck in a quick hug then stepping back. By the time we'd exclaimed over seeing each other there, my boyfriend had made his way to us. I noticed the small scowl on his face but chose to ignore it for the time being. I knew he hated the guy thanks to a mutual friend whose girlfriend had dated him and said he'd cheated on her. I introduced them and chatted for a few more seconds before saying we had to go or we'd miss the beginning of our movie.

As my friend left and me and my guy walked into the theater I couldn't help but feel the tension coming from him. I asked him if he was all right and received an "I'm fine" in return. I knew he was lying but I wasn't about to let him ruin my mood. We got into our movie, watched it, left the theater and headed back to my grandma's house.

It was beginning to bug me that he just couldn't let whatever was bothering him go. So, since my grandma was busy watching television in the living room I took him into one of the bedrooms and sat with him on the bed, making sure to leave the door open as was the rule in my family. It took some coaxing, but eventually I got him to tell me exactly what was going on with him. Apparently he was jealous.

"Imagine walking into the theater with your girlfriend and suddenly she's gone and is now hugging on some strange guy. How would you feel?" he told me.

I laughed. For anyone to be jealous of my ex was definitely a laughable matter to me. My ex was like a little boy. In no way could I see anything remotely sexual about him and, in fact, it made me gag to even try. I couldn't see any man in a sexual way except for my new boyfriend. I don't know why, but that's just how it was. No other man had ever sparked my interest like that. But, to my boyfriend this was a serious matter. He detested my ex thanks to the lies (at least, they were lies to me) that our friend's girlfriend said about my ex. My ex, cheating on someone? It was impossible. The guy was a pansy! He didn't have the balls to do that, but whatever I thought about him didn't matter because at the moment my boyfriend was in a jealous fit and I had to fix it.

I assured him that he had nothing to be jealous about, that my ex and I were just good friends and I didn't see him in any way but. It didn't do much to calm him so I leaned in and began kissing him. For a few seconds he resisted but it wasn't long before he gave in and we were lying on the bed in each other's arms, our lips locked together.

Eventually, one of his hands made its way into my pants. We paused in our kissing to look at each other, his eyes questioning if it was all right to go further. I nodded emphatically and as his fingers began to move we started kissing again.

He gently slipped one finger between the folds of my sex and moved his hand down a little more, just grazing my clit, causing me to gasp. I'd never felt that before. I'd tried the whole masturbating thing but it just wasn't fun and it never brought me to climax. Not to mention that it was sad to say I'd never been told about manipulating my clit. So as he toyed with it for a minute or two, I squirmed beneath him, barely able to keep my mouth to his so my moans were muffled.

Soon he dipped his finger into my pussy and began to finger fuck me. It was pure magic! Never had my own fingers felt like this. Just one of his felt like more than two of mine. He had such lovely, thick fingers. Within moments he slipped a second finger in and I clutched his arms, my eyes flying open as I barely stifled a moan against his mouth.

Slowly, almost painfully so, he slid his fingers in and out. When they were in he pushed and dragged on the walls of my pussy, making my hips buck in response. At one point as his fingers were inside me he did something that I can only describe as being like when someone snaps their fingers. It caused me to jump at the sudden sensation and I pulled my head back and we chuckled together. The chuckle wasn't long-lived as he began moving his fingers again and my eyes closed and I melted into the bed. He lay there looking down at me, watching my every expression, taking in the joy he was giving me.

Then we heard movement in the living room and his hand came out faster than the blink of an eye. As he'd pulled his hand out I'd sat up and when my grandma passed by the room, all she saw was us sitting innocently on the bed, each of us having one foot on the floor, as was also the rule. When she passed out of sight, we looked at each other and started laughing quietly. We didn't continue the act that day.

Once that little barrier had been broken, the foyer make-out sessions had picked up. No longer did I find excuses to keep him from fingering me and I was left writhing in pleasure on top of the sewing table as his fingers worked their magic on me and his tongue invaded my mouth. But it never went further than that in that foyer and I felt awful after he told me that he was beginning to crack. Night after night he had to leave the foyer and walk back to his friend's house where he stayed the weekends, unable to do anything about his own problem. By the time he would reach his friend's he'd be in too much pain to try and fix it. Instead he would just lay there, waiting for the pain to subside. I wanted to help him, but I was too nervous to try putting my hand down his pants and even if we'd had the privacy for me to give him head, I had strong feelings against putting his dick in my mouth.

That summer, just after school let out, my mom and her boyfriend decided it would be fun to go on a camping trip to the national park which was just a few hours drive away. I asked if I could invite my boyfriend and she said it was fine, but he'd have to bring his own tent and sleeping bag.

When the day came to leave, we drove through town and picked up my guy, stuffing him next to me in the back seat where my sister (who was visiting from college) and I were. The trip was fairly uneventful, the only interesting thing happening was a hiccup that surprised me and so came out in a gasp which overall sounded like a really loud moan. What made that interesting (seeing as it was fairly normal for that to happen for me) was the shocked look on my boyfriend's face. When we were alone after the car ride we laughed about it as I explained what happened to him and why my mom and sister didn't bother looking up from what they were doing.

The campsite was small so all three tents were within a foot of each other, my boyfriend's tent being between mine and my mother's. I wished he'd been able to put it where my tent was but my mother made it clear where it was to go.

The evening passed without anything in particular happening and soon we were all in our tents, trying to sleep. But I couldn't sleep knowing he was in the tent next to me. I also felt bad that he was sleeping in such a thin sleeping bag on the hard ground and it was incredibly chilly out. The rest of us had an air mattress and thick, below zero sleeping bags.