She kissed me and I didn't stop her. Don't ask me why I didn't. I had no idea that she was going to do it and at first, it didn't send me for a loop or blow my mind, but I just didn't stop her when she kissed me. This must have given her the okay to proceed because she kissed me again. This time she sucked my lower lip and when my mouth opened, she slid her tongue inside. I knew that she meant business, but I was still holding out until she squeezed my right nipple, and my body exploded!
My right nipple has always been my nemesis. If you could get to it, I was toast, and she got to it!
My name is Kelley McSwain, and I am of Irish descent born in New York State. I am the typical Irish lass, red haired, and yes, the drapes matched the rug, milky white skin with big boobs. I was raised in upstate New York, not in the city, where my dad worked in a foundry. My mom was a high school teacher and people said that I looked just like her.
After graduating high school, I attended college in the SUNY University system, graduating four years later with a degree in Liberal Arts. I hadn't known what I wanted to do with my life except escape from the boredom of living neither in Buffalo nor New York City. My first lover was Gino, a slick talking, cute Italian boy, who talked his way right into my pants! He took my virginity a month after we started dating. Like many girls my age, I was away from home for the first time in my life and I wanted to prove that I was a woman.
Losing my virginity was neither exciting nor memorable. The main thing that I remember about it was that it was over before it began,
Gino liked to take me to pizza parlors on Friday night where many of the students went. None of us had much money so pizza by the slice was a really cheap date. This particular Friday night he convinced me that we should stargaze along the bank of the Hudson River in a small park. We sat on a blanket on the grass outside of his old jalopy and if you know the New York City area, there aren't many stars to gaze at.
We sipped some wine from a bottle that he had bought and started necking. I was wearing a light summer dress with only bra and panties underneath. The dress had buttons at the neck which opened down to halfway down my chest. He asked me to have sex, and I refused even though he produced a beat-up looking condom that evidently he had for some time.
We kissed a lot, and I began to get wet. He licked my neck and unbuttoned the top of my dress and somehow got my right boob out of my bra. He pinched the nipple and stars burst out like a Roman Candle! When he got to sucking it, I was done for. He eased his hand between my thighs which were opening of their own accord and started to play with my clit. That is my second weak spot. It is so large that it peeks out all the time. Even walking makes me horny!
I don't know when he got his dick out but the next thing that I remember was him on top of me, poking between my legs. Not only did he not put on the old condom but the short shrimpy fucker just pulled the crotch of my panties aside and entered me. I felt a slight pain, he huffed twice and then it was over. I felt more wetness between my legs than I was used to and figured, correctly, that he had come in me. I was so mad that I could have killed him because I had no intention of having sex with him in the first place and certainly not getting pregnant!
When I got back to my room afterwards, we were not speaking and a later examination in the bathroom showed blood in my panties, so I knew that he had taken my virginity. He came around a little after that but disappeared when I told him that my period was late! Fortunately, that was all that it was, late, and it came three days later. Needless to say, he was history.
After that, whenever I went on a date, I wore a pastie to deter busy hands. Graduation came and I got a job in New York City. I was ecstatic. I was working in a stock brokerage firm and was making enough money to share an apartment with another girl who also worked there.
Dating for us was fun as we spent much of the time drinking, dancing and hanging out with the guys in the firm and trying to protect our pussies from penile penetration. Every now and then we allowed a favorite to finger us but that was as far as they got.
Two years after moving to New York City, I met an Irish guy, Ryan O'Rourke, who doted on me. He tried to get the pussy too, but I held him off for about six months. He told me that he liked eating pussy and since I knew that I couldn't get pregnant doing that, I let him!
"OOOhh Lordee,!!!!"
that man could eat some pussy! He had an extra-long tongue and the things he did to my poor twat were inconceivable. He even got me to shave off all of my unruly red rug to facilitate his dining privileges. Needless to say, I didn't hold out on the no-dicking edict for long. He told me that he didn't like wearing condoms, so I want on birth control pills. He proposed the next year, and we were married. My parents were happy as they didn't feel that they needed to worry about me anymore as I now had someone to look after me.
Ryan and I loved each other. My 5 ft and his 6'2" seemed to get along just fine. We had two kids, in our first five years of marriage, and life went on as expected. Somehow, however, even though his cock was adequate, I found that I didn't like fucking very much. We did it weekly, but the bells and whistles never came. I enjoyed being eaten, and he loved me sucking his cock, but it was never a nine-alarm situation. He never messed with my right nipple as I had told him when we first started dating that it was not sensitive, and he never tried to find out for himself!
Ryan realized that I was never overly enthusiastic and did his best to have sex more enjoyable. He would introduce fantasies, toys and even swinging where I always wore pasties, and went along with as I felt guilty about his not really enjoying sex with me, but nothing really helped. The only humdinger I got was in a threesome with another woman, where the right pastie came off and she got a hold of my right nipple, and I went ga ga. After that I thought that I might be gay or at least bi-sexual.
As things happen with many married couples, the frequency of our sex decreased. At least it did for me. Ryan went somewhere else to satisfy his need and after twenty years of marriage, we got amicably divorced.
I was now a single woman again but now thirty-nine years old; the kids were in college, and I was on my own like a ship without a rudder! My face was still somewhat pretty, and my body hadn't suffered too badly from childbirth. I had big titties, big hips and thighs and a slight pouch on my belly, but I still attracted the attention of many men and women too! At loose ends, I decided to join a gym and get involved in a few women's organizations.
Six months of steady exercise and eating right and I had lost about twenty pounds even though the belly pouch didn't quite go away, but I felt and looked good.
During the process of training, I also joined a women's literary club where many of the women wrote poetry and had discussion on the intricacies of other works. Many of the women were gay or of varying sexual orientations and it was a great experience to meet those who were comfortable in their skins because I never was. While at the gym. I met a woman named Justine who was also divorced, with children, and trying to redefine a role for herself as I was. She was tall, about 5'8", which for me is very tall to my 5ft., slim, wiry and quite beautiful. One significant part of her features was the space that she had between her upper front teeth. When she heard me moaning about my big ass, she would say in her cute West Indian accent,
"Girl, you got a nice ass. A lot of men and women would love to get their hands on it!" as she laughed raucously. "You just need to tone it up a bit and it will be banging."
She had those piercing eyes that whenever she clapped them on me, my stomach would do flip flops!
All of my life, I had never considered the possibility of being gay, now I was wondering why Justine shook me so. She had jet black skin but oh so smooth! Her hair was cut short, her lips were full and naturally black toned, and she had the cutest bubble ass that I had ever seen. Her thighs were firm and thick, and she had small feet with tiny toes.
"Cute ass?" I thought, since when am I calling another woman's ass, "cute?" And since when am I recalling the tiny details of another woman's body? This is what this woman evoked in me!
Then one day, after finding myself wondering if anyone's tongue had ever got stuck in that space between her teeth. I teased her about it.
Grinning, she informed me that she was from the Caribbean and in the Caribbean, a woman with space between her upper front teeth was said to have a "bag of sugar down there!" I blushed red, not daring to ask her where "down there" was.
