A Story of You #10 My First

The tenth and last entry to my anniversary contest, by Allie Coquelicot!

10. My First

I’m not really sure how it happened. Each day spent in Adam’s company reminded me of the fact that I did not want to be with him.

I was sixteen, and aware of the fact that I was not even close to being in love. It was a year of discovery, and that’s all he was to me. Something and someone new.

My friends were horrified to find out that I was ‘dating’ the tall blond. Sure he was slightly geeky, awkward. No one could say that he wasn’t handsome, for he was. His intense blue eyes always hypnotised me. I liked how tall he was, having to stand on my tiptoes to reach his lips. His strong sexy arms felt perfect around my waist. He was a couple of months older than me, and we were not in love.

He liked his video games and his science fiction. I liked parties and shopping. Outside of the intense entanglement of our bodies in his teenage bedroom, we had nothing in common. We were only close when I pulled him on top of me and whispered in his ear that I could feel his excitement.

There had been months of buildup before it happened. We would leave school together on set afternoons, sometimes holding hands. Sometimes not. The conversation was always a bit strained, and our pace quite quick. We were not friends really. But I trusted him, and I knew him well.

We would reach his parent’s house, have a snack. Moan about the homework we had to do. A cup of tea later we would snuggle in the sofa, episodes of Star Trek on the TV. I politely watched for about ten minutes before our well-rehearsed routine would begin.

I shifted my body so that I was leaning into him. A fingernail would graze down his neck, tickling him. I love being a distraction.

My hand would travel down his body, prodding, playfully pinching and finally feeling his hard-on through his jeans. At this point the TV was forgotten, a poor competitor for his attention. He kissed me hard, with purpose. His hands were so big I could feel them grasping around my neck. His tongue explored my mouth, still finding new ways to send shivers of arousal down my spine, despite the familiarity of the action.

We kissed on the sofa the way only teenagers do. We were aware that his parents or older brother could walk in on us, and that made it even more exciting. We kissed for what felt like hours, until our lips were sore and most of clothes had ended up on the floor. Somehow.

Our rehearsed routine always got a bit longer each time. First his nimble fingers would unhook my bra. It was only when I felt a kiss on my nipple for the first time in my life did I realise what he had achieved. We had moved one step further. Naturally, the next time the bra got unhooked without any protests and I quickly guided his lips to my nipples and asked him to bite them. The feeling was just fantastic!

He was older, 17, and he knew what he exactly was doing. Each time we got a little bit further. Had we been American teens we would have talked about ‘first, second, third base’ but we were not in that world. What we did was not for boasting. It was not for sharing with others. It was our private passion. It was our shared hunger and desire that kept me returning to his house each week.

We would move upstairs – clothes bundled in our arms just in case someone came home. His single bed in a his messy room was just perfect. The room smelled of aftershave and pizza but I didn’t care at the time.

In that room I earned my nickname ‘cock tease.’ With every step I took up the stairs, I left behind my insecurity and inhibition. I pushed him backwards, told him how much I enjoyed seeing him on the bed, wanting me. I got such pleasure from the power trip.

The decision of how far we would go each time was entirely in my hands. I knew he had before, and that all I had to do was say the word and he’d be ready. But I enjoyed keeping him waiting.

I toyed with the idea of not sleeping with him, after all this was not love. But curiosity made me cave in, and that day was just perfect.

His well toned body was a product of years of karate lessons. I was not so impressed when he tried to speak to me in Japanese, but I could definitively appreciate the rock hard abs and biceps.

After a month or so we started skipping the snack and TV foreplay and spent most of our time in his bedroom. One day as our routine was continuing in traditional fashion, I turned around so that he would have a good view of my ass as I slid out my jeans. As I was doing this enjoying his comments and how his breathing got a bit heavier I saw something hanging in his wardrobe. Adam’s karate belts.

I pulled one out and asked him nicely, flashing him my breasts at the same time, if he would let me play with the belt. Unsure of what I meant he seemed to hesitate. I straddled him on the bed, moving back and forth, teasing his cock through the thin material of his boxers. I loved seeing him so turned on and not fully realising the extent of my power I knew that if he got excited enough then he usually didn’t deny me anything.

I secured his wrists behind his back, and suddenly everything was so much hotter than it had been before. He was helpless. Well, not really but in my mind he was.

I stripped off all of my clothes, and then, without really knowing why I left the room. I could hear his shouts down the hallway, and I was grinning. He wanted me to come back.

I returned, in all honesty I had probably only been gone for one minute but he was angry. And frustrated. I jumped on top of him again and we kissed some more. I let him finger me but that was it. Nothing further that time, the belt had been enough to satisfy my curiosity that day.

Next time however I asked him to tie me up. What a feeling! It was not that tight, I could easily have removed the belt but it was enough of an aid to stimulate my mind. I closed my eyes and struggled against my bonds. I was helpless, naked, vulnerable.

I wanted him to fuck me.

Suddenly it was the only thought in my head. I told him it was time, and that he should get a condom. He was a perfect gentleman asking me repeatedly if I was sure. My body was on fire, I was aching to feel him inside me. He wanted to untie me, he was not at all comfortable with the play we were engaging with. So he untied me, and even though secretly I would have preferred to have remained helpless, I could still keep my arms behind my back and fantasise. The belt had made me so wet and hot I could barely wait as he fumbled with the condom, an action which made me wonder how much of his previous experience had been truthful.

I felt his large cock pushing against me, gently but still quite aggressively. I was not sure what to expect, but I was ready. My curiosity was about to be sated.

It took a while for me to relax enough to accept the large intruder. It hurt, but only for a short while. The pain was quickly replaced with strong feelings of pleasure. Slowly I felt his cock filling me, and I was in heaven. His thrusting was slow at first, keeping a strong steady rhythm. I was in ecstasy pretty soon, enjoying a pleasure I had only ever dreamt about before. I came long before him, without really knowing what I was doing I yelled out and grabbed his hair. My ankles crossed on his back, drawing him into me. I lost track of time, it felt like no time had passed, yet at the same time we could have been there pressed against each other for hours. He came with a grunt and collapsed on top of me. We shared some hesitant breathless kisses and lying underneath him in that blue room, karate belts and clothes strewn across the floor, the scent of sweaty sex in the air, I felt really good.

I knew I had made the right decision. My first time had been truly fucking amazing.

We showered together afterwards, an action almost too intimate at the time. It was a bit awkward and I got dressed quickly and headed home. Snuggling was not our thing.

We saw each other for another couple of weeks, had sex twice more, each time better than the one before. It was enough for me. My curiosity had been sated. We broke up, and moved on with our lives. After all, I had known from the start that it was not forever.

Now five years later I wrote this. We are not really in touch anymore, but if I saw him on the street I would not hesitate to say hi. Perhaps ask him if he still practices karate?

I don’t regret anything about my relationship with Adam. I now know that sex is a lot better with someone you love, but I also know that at the time I had my mind set on exploring sex and I really couldn’t have picked a better partner.

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