This is a story told to me by a woman I had an affair with two years ago. She was a very sensual – and sexual woman – and, when I told her I wrote erotic stories, she readily told me the story of her first serious sexual encounter, which I have reproduced as precisely as I can remember it. Nowadays, she is a very classy 'thirty-something', with long dark hair, nice tits, a great ass and long shapely legs, and I count myself very privileged to have been allowed to share her bed for one glorious summer in the south of England, while she was waiting to follow her husband to South Africa.
So here is her story...
My name is Kate and I'm now a thirty-three year old married woman with two young children. My husband is Roger, an architect, and, before you ask, yes, we have a good and active sex life.
But the most exciting thing that ever happened to me, sexually, happened long before I met Roger – in fact, before I had even made love with a boy, or man. Even now, I still think about it most days – especially when Roger's grinding away inside me, and I need something to put me in the mood!
But I suppose I have to admit it wasn't at all pleasant at the time – in fact, I was terrified. But, now – well, it still gives me a thrill to recall it. I was on holiday, with my parents – under serious protest, but they said I had to go because it was a 'family holiday' – them, me and my younger brother, aged 14.
We were in Weston-super-Mare, and I had taken up with a local boy, called Jim. He worked on the deckchairs and he was a bit rough, but I had to have some company apart from my parents, and he was quite good-looking, so I saw quite a lot of him. My Mum and Dad got used to me going for lots of 'long walks' on my own, when I was really nipping off to see Jim.
I should explain that, until about a year before, I had been really worried about my tits not growing. All the girls in my class seemed to have developed from the time they were about twelve or thirteen, but I was practically flat-chested. I used to hate going into the showers after gym, and games, and have some of them snigger and flaunt their floppy boobs at me. But, that winter, at last, I began to grow and, by Christmas, I had enough 'up there' to warrant a decent bra – and, after the school Christmas dance, to have one of the sixth-formers undo it and have a huge hard-on while he squeezed the merchandise!
After that, I started going out with a boy in my class, called Alan, and, by the time I went away on holiday, we were an 'item' and we had got to the stage where we did regular babysitting for his married sister and I would end up stripped to the waist on her settee, with Alan playing with my tits and kissing my nipples.
But nothing else. We didn't, then. It was kind of understood that it was 'above the waist' only unless you were pretty serious about each other so, although Alan used to try to put his hand on me 'down there' occasionally, it wasn't too difficult to get him to take it away. The threat of no more tit-feels usually did the trick!
But Jim was a bit different. I've already said he was a bit 'rough'. Well, he was – in a lot of ways. His language was pretty bad, for a start – he was the first boy I had met who talked about a girl's 'tits' – Alan used to get embarrassed about saying the word 'breasts', but practically the first thing Jim said to me was that he guessed my age correctly because my 'tits' were about the right size for an eighteen-year-old. Then he said that my Mum had good tits for her age – and that he liked her arse!
I'd never mixed with anybody like that before. All my friends were out of the same 'grammar school' box. They stuck to the rules. Jim didn't recognise 'rules' – he made up his own as he went along. He was one of a big family, whereas I was an only child. His Dad didn't live at home and his Mum had a succession of men friends. So, the first time I went out with him – well, it was actually just a walk along the beach one evening – he was so different from Alan. The moment we were away from the promenade, he led me towards a sand dune. Up till then, he hadn't even touched me, but he put his arm around my shoulders as we were walking and just dropped his hand on to my breast, and squeezed it!
"That's nice", he said. Well, he actually said 'noice' – I can still hear it. When I pulled his hand off, he looked at me in surprise.
"What's that for?" he said. "Ain't you never had yer tits felt?"
"Not on a first date," I said, but he just laughed.
Then he grabbed me and kissed me. He was good at that. His tongue pushed between my lips, then I felt his hand on my bottom, pushing me against his erection. Alan had never done that, either, and – well, I didn't stop him and then he lifted his hand and squeezed my breast again. I said he was rough – well, his hand on my breast was much rougher than Alan's. Alan always just stroked my tits, but Jim really grabbed it, and squeezed, and I got really excited.
He had long hair and I tangled my fingers in it and pushed myself against him and stuck my tongue into his mouth. We carried on like that for a minute or two, then he broke off the kiss and pulled me towards a sand dune. We tumbled down the other side of the dune and ended up lying on the sand. Before I could catch my breath, he leaned over and put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me again. I was lying flat on my back and I just closed my eyes and felt his tongue in my mouth again. Then I felt his hand slip inside my shirt, onto my bra. I tried to push up, but his other hand was holding me down, then his hand went inside my bra and onto my bare breast.
He took his mouth away from mine and dragged his leg across me so that he was straddling me, at the waist. I tried to push myself up on my elbows, but he pushed me down again, easily, and held me down with one hand while the other one undid the buttons on my shirt. When he had undone them all, he pulled my shirt apart and sat back, looking down at me. I still had my bra on.
"Have yer got a boyfriend at home?" he asked. I nodded.
"Has he felt yer tits?" I nodded, again.
"Has he seen them?' I didn't say anything, but I knew I wanted him to take my bra off now. "Has he?" he insisted, and I said, "Yes. He has"
He smiled and put his hands on my bra-cups and squeezed, more gently this time.
"You like that, don't you?" he said, and I nodded, staring up at him.
"Go on, then," he said. "Show me yer tits – get em out!"
I hesitated for a moment, but I was really excited, so I leaned up on my elbows again, and undid my bra, at the back, then lay back down on the sand. He just looked down at me, then said – "Go on, then."
For a second, I didn't know what he meant, then I moved my hands and lifted up my bra. Jim looked down at my uncovered breasts, then put his hands on them and squeezed, trapping my nipples between his finger and thumb.
"I bet you make that boy at home do all that himself, don't you?" he said. His mouth came down to mine.
