My first year of College was more an educational experience than I thought it would be. I was like the turtle who first comes out of its shell. This was the year I lost my virginity and discovered my true sexual nature.
Life before this year was very smooth and predictable. I attended High School in an all girls public format but we shared certain functions with an affiliated High School which had just turned co-ed two years before. This meant that although there were a few girls attending the other school, we were by far the choice of the boys. I attended dances and hockey games with my girlfriends, and even dated periodically but there was never a real “Love” relationship and I never went past “second base” with a boy. I preferred reading and writing poetry to nights spent at the malls. I volunteered for school plays but preferred stage crew to being on stage.
College was different. I applied to the local campus, thinking I could always try another school further away if I wanted to later. Still, it was a new world. I made friends quickly with people from all over the province. We studied together and there were weekly parties at some club or apartment. I had my car paid for by summer jobs, so I was very mobile and constantly in demand. It placed me in a sort of limelight I wasn’t accustomed to.
Also, the groups talked about anything; no subject was taboo. Although I didn’t have much to add, I listened intently to others experiences. There were certainly things I would never have done but talk about sex and relationships intrigued me. On nights when my new girlfriends and I would meet to study at someone’s apartment, the talk would sometimes quickly flow from classes to boys. I was fascinated by stories of orgasms, oral sex, and horny pussies.
It was only the third month of classes when I lost my virginity. I accepted a date with an engineering student who joined our group in the College lounge once in a while. We went to the movies and stopped for pizza. He suggested we take it back to his apartment where we could listen to music. I agreed. He poured wine, put some music on, and we ate our pizza while talking about classes.
He was very handsome, in a boyish kind of way. I’ve seen him play ball hockey in the gym and I knew he had great legs. The pizza was finished and we cleaned up the mess. He changed music and sat down close to me. I was beginning to tremble. He thanked me for a wonderful night and so sweetly asked if he could kiss me. I remember blushing madly but leaned forward none the less. Our lips met and somewhere deep inside I knew that if he asked, I was going to say yes.
I jumped a little when he laid his hand on my knee and his other hand brushed across my neck and his fingers tangled themselves in my shoulder length hair. I put one hand up against his chest and felt the soft trembling of his muscles. Our heads twisted slowly as we kissed each others lips. I think I was making a small circling motion on his chest while I laid my left hand on his leg. I noticed he jumped a little bit at the touch too. His left hand was riding slowly up and down on my leg, sometimes rolling briefly over to the inside of my thighs. My own hand was traveling further up his jeans, even dragged my nails along the fabric.
He pulled back and looked into my eyes for a few moments. My breath was coming quickly from the excitement. “Would you”, he paused, “like to get more comfortable?”, he asked. I whispered “Yes”.
He took my hand as he rose off the couch. I didn’t know if my knees would hold me but I followed his lead and we walked hand and hand into his bedroom. We stood at the side of the single bed and kissed deeply. I had to rise up only a little. Our arms circled each other and gently pressed against each other. He tilted my head to one side and brushed my hair away from my neck where he planted soft kisses. He bent his knees as he kissed lower and I let one knee press between my legs. His hands ran up and down my spine and circled round to my hips. His thumbs slipped into my waistband and ran smoothly around to the small of my back. My hands rested on his shoulder blades and pressed him against me.
He began to tug my blouse out of my slacks which encouraged me to do the same for him. We stepped back and, while looking into each others eyes, began to unbutton each other’s shirts. When our shirts were undone, I stare at his exposed chest and ran my hands over his muscles and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. He let it fall off his arms and then reached out to do the same for me. I watched how his eyes followed his hands from the rise of my bra, across my shoulders and down my arm. I circled my arms around his waist and pressed hard against him. I felt his rising bulge against my navel. I kissed his neck and shoulder while he reached around and played with the clasps of my bra. He released the hooks and drew his hands up to my shoulders where he eased the straps off. I stepped back and the bra fell to the floor. My small nipples were flushed and rising.
