Loading...I think it’s probably safe to say that most people have at least two distinct sexual memories; losing their virginity, and the best sex they ever experience. For a variety of reasons, the two events are usually distinct and separate.
Most people recall losing their virginity with fondness for obvious reasons, but will admit the awkwardness of the first time encounter, based usually on the lack of experience on the part of one or both participants.
For this reason, a number of people also have a third distinct sexual memory; the first time they had a memorable sexual experience.
Mine occurred my freshman year in college.
I lived in the dorm at a school that was on the verge of liberalizing its male/female dorm segregation guidelines, but at the time still had separation of the sexes firmly in place. I had an advantage over a number of other freshmen, in that I had been able to test out of almost an entire semester’s worth of hours in English Literature, American History and had also received credit for an intro to math course.
Because I had tested out of freshman level American History, and was leaning toward a major in history, I was able to enroll in a couple of courses normally reserved for sophomores. To this day, I have no idea what I did, but somehow, I managed to catch the attention of Mrs. Bethany, one of the administrative assistants who worked in the history department. One Monday, when I was leaving the department after discussing potential ideas for my degree plan, she asked if she could speak to me for a few minutes.
Mrs. Bethany, Sandra, was in her early 40s, but she certainly didn’t look it. Her hair was what people often call “dirty dishwater blonde,” and just to look at her, it was obvious she worked hard to take care of herself. Like most academic professionals, she was very smartly dressed; on this particular day wearing a light blue skirt with matching jacket, a white blouse and navy blue heels. There was a sparkle in her blue eyes that perfectly accented her smile as she engaged me in conversation. She had a daughter, named Denise, who was a sophomore in high school, and struggling with world history. Otherwise known as Western Civilization, it was a class I was making quick work of at the moment, and she wanted to know if I would be willing to tutor Denise. I told Mrs. Bethany that I’d never tutored anyone before, but that I’d be glad to give it a shot. She smiled again and invited me to come over the next evening to meet Denise and have dinner with them.
I made the mistake of telling my roommate, Jon, about the offer I’d received in front of our resident assistant, or RA. Kerry was a sophomore majoring in business. He knew who Mrs. Bethany was, and he told me to watch out for myself. Kerry said she’d been married up until the previous spring semester, when she’d caught her husband cheating on her with one of his graduate students. They’d divorced and he’d moved to teach at another school four states away.
My roommate gave me grief about it, too, telling me that she didn’t really want me to tutor her daughter, she wanted to seduce me. I told him he was imagining things and buried my nose in the books, trying to study for the quiz I knew I had coming the next day.
THE NEXT morning, I aced the quiz. On my way to the stairs, headed for the library, I passed by Mrs. Bethany, confirming what time she wanted me to come over that night. She looked up at me, smiled and told me to be there at six p.m. sharp.
That afternoon, several guys from my floor went to the gym and played basketball, working up a good sweat. Now I had a good excuse for taking a shower before going to Mrs. Bethany’s house, just in case my roommate was right. But he couldn’t be right. That sort of thing only happened in the movies, right? And then there was the fact that my luck had never been that good. My male ego told me that Mrs. Bethany having the “hots” for me would be exceptionally good luck.
I arrived promptly at six p.m.; a couple of minutes prior actually. She met me at the front door, smiling. She had changed from her outfit that she’d been wearing that morning into shorts, covered at the moment by an apron, and a sleeveless shirt. As she led the way into her home, I watched her hips and backside as they moved in the delightful way a woman moves and I noticed the beautiful definition of her legs, normally concealed for the most part by her conservative skirts. My observation merely confirmed something I’d already decided; Mrs. Bethany was indeed attractive.
We walked past the table into the kitchen, where dinner was almost ready. She told me Denise had her ear glued to the phone and would be out in a minute, then asked me what I wanted to drink. I opted for a glass of tea.
The first time I called her Mrs. Bethany, she stopped me and told me to call her Sandy. She understood the need to keep things formal and professional at the university, but wanted things to be more relaxed between us away from the campus. She was trying to bridge the gap between the facts that I was a student and that I was an adult, and I wasn’t sure exactly how to respond to that beyond merely seeing where it led.
Denise finally made her appearance at the kitchen entrance, and Sandy introduced us. Denise had brunette hair, green eyes, and was somewhat on the skinny side, but nonetheless with the curves on her body that gets a girl noticed by young men. What was most noticeably different between her and her mother was her lack of an upbeat personality. She acted frustrated at having to interact, and I got the distinct impression that she considered me to be an intrusion.
After dinner, Denise and I sat down to discuss her world history class. She protested that her mom was really making a big deal out of nothing; she was having no more trouble than anyone else in her class. We talked for awhile about the unit she was currently studying, and despite her protests against assistance, I was able to clarify a few points for her. Half an hour into our discussion, the phone rang and she jumped on it, answering it and then going into another room to take the call.
Sandy had been in the kitchen sitting at the table while Denise and I studied, and came into the living room when Denise left the room for her phone call. Sandy went after Denise, leaned into the doorway, exchanging comments and then walking back into the living room.
“I’m sorry,” she said, throwing herself down into a chair and sighing. “Her dad is on the phone, and he’s just causing all sorts of problems for her right now. She thinks she wants to go live with him, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Any particular reason?” I asked.
“There’s this boy that she likes,” Sandy said. “And I don’t like him. He’s a freshman at the local community college and he’s just not right for her. I was hoping that meeting you might distract her in another direction. Wait… before I make this an even bigger mess than it already is, do you have a girlfriend?”
I was a little confused. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend, but I’m the same age he is,” I said. “What makes me different from him?”
“I can just tell there’s a difference between the two of you, and if she’s going to date someone in college, I’d like it to be someone I know I can trust,” she said. “What I’m really afraid of is that she’s going to push the issue about moving to live with her dad, and that I’ll eventually lose that fight. Her dad will let her get away with anything.”
Sandy got up to go check on Denise, and when she saw that Denise was off the phone, she closed the door so they could talk privately.
Their conversation escalated into an argument, and I could hear their voices getting louder. I really only heard two comments clearly; Sandy telling her daughter to lose the attitude, and Denise telling her mother that if she thought I was such a wonderful young man, maybe she should go out with me. I wanted a hole to crawl into, and if it wouldn’t have been rude to do so, I’d have left while they were still arguing. Sandy finally came back into the living room.
“I think you’d probably better leave,” she told me. “I doubt anymore studying will get done tonight.”
I got up to leave and she walked me to the door.
Sandy opened her front door for me to leave, and said goodnight.
I said goodnight, too, and as I started to cross the threshold and walk out of her house, she grabbed my arm.
“Thanks for being so sweet,” she said, hugging me and giving me a kiss on my cheek.
Just as quickly, she leaned back, allowing space between us, and waved farewell to me. I got in my car and went back to campus not sure what to think, but with a flushed feeling that felt wonderful.
OVER the next couple of weeks, I went to Sandy’s house a half-dozen times. Denise was never enthusiastic about studying, and stood me up a couple of times, leaving me alone with Sandy to talk. We always had good conversations, and Sandy always gave me a kiss on the cheek when I left. I was sure I had not a snowball’s chance in hell with Denise, but began to wonder in the back of my mind if Sandy wasn’t using her daughter as a reason to get me to her house.
ON THURSDAY a week later, Sandy caught me on my way to the stairs, asking me if I was busy Friday night. I didn’t really have any plans, and was kind of surprised when Sandy said she would really appreciate it if I would take Denise to her high school’s football game on Friday. I didn’t think that would work out, and said so. Sandy asked me to please do it for her, saying she would consider it a big favor. Against my better judgment, I said I would.
THE NEXT night, I arrived at Sandy’s house at six-thirty to pick up Denise. Sandy came to the door still dressed as she had been at the university that day. She invited me in, and I followed her to the living room.
She asked me to sit down, and I got the distinct impression that something was not quite right. Sandy confirmed that by telling me Denise had actually left for the game with friends thirty minutes earlier. The two of them had argued again about the young man that Denise was infatuated with, and she had stormed off to her room, emerging a few minutes later to ask for permission to go to the game with friends, and to spend the night at a friend’s house. Denise anne had sworn she would not be spending the night with the young man, and Sandy, in an effort to preserve peace and demonstrate trust, had agreed to let her go.
I suddenly found myself out of luck on a date that had been a long-shot, anyway.
Sandy and I had both already had dinner, but she wondered if I was willing to spend the evening with her, watching television and talking. She didn’t want to spend the evening alone, and she said she remembered from her days in college how nice it was to spend an evening away from the dorm. There wasn’t really anything for me to do back on campus; by the time I got there, the Friday night movie would have been running for a good half hour, so I said that yes, I would be glad to spend the evening with her.
Sandy excused herself to go change, stepping back into the room to tell me to help myself to something to drink from the kitchen, or she could get me something in a minute. I noticed that she had unzipped her skirt and was holding it in place against her hip.
I went into the kitchen and opened her refrigerator. There were no real surprises in it; milk, soda water, tea and two bottles of wine. I closed the refrigerator and turned around to look at the cabinets. I thought I remembered which ones the glasses were in, but when I opened the first two doors, I was out of luck.
Sandy walked up behind me and asked if I needed help finding something. I told her I couldn’t find the glasses, and she laughed and opened the door that would have been my next choice. She stopped and turned to face me. She had changed into shorts, leaving her button down blouse on, but rolling the sleeves.
“What do you want to drink?” she asked. “I have wine if you would like some.”
This was back when some colleges didn’t allow alcohol in the dorms and the legal drinking age in many places was still eighteen years of age, but I voiced concern about drinking and driving.
“You won’t have that much to drink, trust me,” she said. I did trust her for whatever reason, and she poured us both a glass of wine.
I have no recollection at all as to the shows on television that night. I do remember sitting down on her sofa, her taking a seat in the chair next to me, and the two of us talking more than watching television.
She asked me a lot of questions about home; where I’d grown up and gone to school; what I planned to do after college. When we’d been talking for a while, she paused; like she was trying to think of the right way to ask a delicate question.
“How come a nice guy like you didn’t already have a date lined up for tonight?”
I told her there was this girl on campus that I liked; that we’d gone out once, but she had since given me the brush off. It wasn’t that big a deal; it was simply frustrating.
“I wish I’d had a guy like you to go out with when I was in college,” she said. Sandy had moved to the sofa, sitting next to me. “I’d never have said no to you. Did you have a high school sweetheart?”
I told her about Caryn, the love of my high school life, who was now living in Virginia, attending college there, where she’d moved less than a week after graduation. Things had soured between us after our senior prom, and had ended on a less than pleasant note.
“Did you ever sleep with her?”
I turned and looked at Sandy. I was surprised she had asked such a question, but between the increasingly personal nature of our conversation and the wine, I was running out of reasons to be genuinely shocked. I admitted that I had indeed slept with Caryn… once. It had not been her first time, she’d slept with another boy two years prior, her brother had found out about it and scared the guy away. For me, though, it was the first time. But with both of us as inexperienced as we were, it was awkward and miserable. I had climaxed; that much had been easy to determine, but she had not, and she had been unwilling to do anything else. In retrospect, that had been the beginning of the end.
“That’s too bad,” Sandy said. “You really liked her, didn’t you? You’ll always remember your first. Always.”
An ungainly silence hung in the air, despite the fact the television was playing. Perhaps because, the television was playing, Sandy got up to turn it off, saying she would rather listen to music instead. She turned on her stereo, set it to an easy listening station and turned around to come sit down again.
I had watched her carefully as she’d walked across the room. The shorts she’d changed into tonight were tighter and shorter than those she’d worn on my first visit. As she headed back to the sofa, I noticed that she had unbuttoned her blouse to the point that I could see cleavage.
“Have you slept with anyone else?” she asked.
I told her no, and shifted uneasily as she sat down beside me. It felt like the room was getting really warm, partly because I could feel my pulse racing a bit in conjunction with my cock, which was completely erect. I had a feeling that was a mixture of uneasiness, nervousness, caution, optimism and lust. The first three were because I had no clue what I was doing. The last two were because I thought I knew where she was headed, and I liked the prospects.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she said, moving a little closer, and putting her hand on my leg, and leaning forward, offering me an improved glimpse of her cleavage.
“Nothing,” I told her. This woman was driving me insane. She was attractive, incredibly sexy, and starting to make her moves on me. The fact she was old enough to be my mother was rapidly becoming a non-existent factor. Yet, how was I supposed to tell her that she had me completely turned on and that my cock was hard? “Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” It was a dumb question to ask.
Sandy scooted about as close to me as she could get without crawling into my lap. “It might be getting a little warm in here,” she said. Our eyes were locked together; and though it was not the effect she intended to have, she stared me down, and I looked away. I blinked myself back into resolve and looked back at her, meeting her eyes. Sandy gave no ground and showed no sign of flinching.
“Would you like to sleep with me?” she asked. I think my heart stopped. “Don’t answer just yet. Think about it for a minute.”
I sat there speechless in response as she leaned toward me and kissed me, softly on the lips.
Sandy got up, telling me she’d be right back, and walked towards her bedroom.
I reached down to adjust myself. My cock was harder than I remember it ever being before, and I wondered if she had noticed the tent forming in my pants.
I didn’t have to wonder any longer, because she walked back into the living room as I finished adjusting myself. If she was shocked or surprised, she gave no indication of it. I, on the other hand, was surprised to see that she had completely unbuttoned her shirt, allowing it to flutter with her movement, exposing her bra-clad breasts.
“Is this what’s bothering you?” Sandy asked, stopping to stand in front of me and reaching down to rub my crotch, her hand pressing down on my erection. “It’s nothing that we can’t take care of together,” she said, continuing to apply pressure with her hand, but forcing my erection to move around within my pants. She leaned forward to kiss me, tilting my head back, and applying her lips to mine with a firmness of purpose. Sandy was intent, and forced her tongue into my mouth, more to convince me of her desire than anything else, and perhaps to convince me of my own desire and the need to satisfy it.
Kissing was something I thought I had a fair bit of experience with, but Sandy quickly convinced me I still had much to learn. She pulled my lower lip between her lips and kissed me again, deeply.
My heart racing, my breathing rapid, Sandy put a hand on my chest and smiled with a soft laugh. “You’re breathing a little hard, aren’t you?” she asked. I nodded in agreement. Her breasts hung heavy in the confines of her bra, her cleavage a tempting sight to behold.
Sandy reached down and began again to massage the bulge in my pants.
“Can I unzip you?” she asked.
I nodded again, my capacity for speech temporarily eliminated, and watched as she unfastened, then unzipped my pants, pulling them open wide and then reaching into my briefs to pull out my cock. Sandy reached in with her other hand and cupped my balls. She stroked my cock with her bare hand a couple of times, causing me to shudder and inhale sharply. The sensation of her hand on my cock was fantastic, but I didn’t know how much of it I could take. I felt like I could cum in a matter of seconds.
“I’d probably better not do too much of that at the moment,” she said, allowing my briefs to close over my near virgin manhood.
Sandy placed one knee on my left and the other knee on my right and straddled me, sitting herself in my lap. I looked down and saw that not only had she unbuttoned her shirt, but her shorts as well; they were still zipped, but I could see a hint of the waistband of her panties peeking out. She took my hands in hers, and placed them on her breasts. I found myself comparing them to Caryn’s, and that wasn’t right, because there was no comparison. Caryn’s had been relatively small, young and still firm. Sandy’s were larger, fuller, soft in the way of a mature, real woman. I could only faintly feel the outline of her nipple against my hands.
“Unhook my bra,” she said pulling her shirt open, further exposing herself to me.
I shifted my hands, bringing my fingers to the center of her cleavage, and fumbled with the clasp, finally getting it open, and releasing it. Her bra fell gently open, and I sat there, stupidly paralyzed, knowing full well exactly what I wanted to do, but not doing it for fear of appearing to be too forward. My hands were a liability to me; I hesitated to peel her bra from her chest, and I would not rest them on her thighs.
Seeing my hesitation, Sandy reached took my hands and placed them again on her breasts, my fingers resting on the cloth of her bra, my thumbs on her flesh. “Pull it away from me,” she said, “I want you to see me and touch me.”
I slid my thumbs under the edges of her bra cups and lifted them away, freeing her breasts. As the her breasts fell free, I released the cloth of her bra and took the flesh of her tits into my hands, weighing them in my fingers, learning them for myself. Sandy pulled her bra back from her chest, throwing her shoulders back, shrugging out of her blouse and bra, making herself completely topless astride me. Raising herself up onto her knees, she brought her breasts up to me.
“Kiss them,” she said. “Take the nipples into your mouth and suck on them. Yes, just like that.”
I slowly, gently kissed her breasts, deliberately sucking her nipples, feeling them get hard between my lips. Sandy began to breathe hard and deep as I continued to suckle her tits. I felt her reach down between our bodies, and looking down briefly, I saw her unzip her shorts and reach a hand inside to play with herself. I was distracted with the desire to watch her do that… I’d never seen a woman masturbate… but Sandy raised my head up and pressed her breast to my lips again.
Sandy lowered herself back to sitting astride me, breathing heavy. I looked down and saw her shorts were open, her champagne colored panties visible to my prying eyes. I looked back up and my eyes met hers. She climbed off of me and stood up, reached down with one hand to pick up her blouse and bra, taking my hand with the other.
“Come with me,” she said, leading me back to her bedroom.
She had turned back the bedcovers, and when we walked into the bedroom, she tossed her bra and blouse onto a chair, and then turned to me.
“Kick off your shoes and socks and take off your shirt,” she said.
I kicked off my shoes and socks, and as I pulled my shirt over my head, I felt her fingers hooking into the waistband of my pants, working them down off of my hips. In short order, I stood before her wearing only my briefs, and my cock was straining to be free. I watched as Sandy pushed her shorts down off of her hips to stand before me wearing only her panties. Stepping toward me, Sandy put one hand on my shoulder, and kissed me as her other hand reached into my briefs, allowing my cock to spring free. She took my cock into her hand, stroking it very lightly, creating sensations of pleasure, but not strong enough to generate sparks, and she looked at me. I reached out towards Sandy, placing my hands on her hips, running my fingers up the side of her body, feeling her ribcage expand with each breath.
“Let me take care of this for you,” Sandy said, running her fingers up the length of my shaft. She drew me to her and kissed me, sucking my tongue gently into her mouth. “Do you want me?” she asked. “Do you want to see me naked and to fuck me?” All I could do was nod as I continued to breath heavily, my heart threatening to pound out of my chest.
Sandy pushed my briefs to the floor and I stepped out of them. She told me to sit on the bed. Kneeling in front of me, Sandy looked up at me, taking my cock into her hands.
“Have you ever had a blowjob before?” she asked. “Have you ever had a woman suck your cock and let you cum in her mouth?”
“No,” I managed to answer, but just barely. Sandy nodded at me, smiling and licking her lips.
“I want you to fuck me with your cock, but I’m afraid that as excited as you are, you wouldn’t last very long at the moment,” she said, caressing my erection.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No, that’s fine. My vanity is taking it as a compliment that I have you this aroused; it makes me feel like you find me attractive.”
“You are. You’re beautiful,” I told her.
“Thank you,” she said. “The really great thing is that it won’t take too long before you get hard again, and then we can take the time to enjoy it. Right now, though, I’m going to give you a blowjob. I’m going to lick and kiss you and suck your cock, and when you cum, don’t try to hold it back, let yourself cum. I want you to cum in my mouth so I can swallow you.”
I just nodded, feeling my head spin as I watched her descend toward my cock, sticking her tongue out to lick the head, and seeing her take the pre-cum oozing out of me onto her tongue. Everything now was a new sensation.
Sandy cupped my balls in one hand, kissing them lightly, then releasing them to take my cock into her mouth. Her lips were open wide as she lay my cock on her tongue, rubbing the length of my shaft against her taste buds. Then she closed her mouth around me, the silky wetness a warm pocket of pleasure for my cock.
She was right; I wasn’t going to last long. I could feel the pleasant warmth of an orgasm beginning to build, and as she felt me beginning to tense, she changed position slightly and increased her tempo just a bit.
“I’m getting ready to explode,” I said.
“Give it to me, sweetheart,” she said, pumping my cock and breathing hard. “Cum for me. Shoot your cum in my mouth.” Without missing a beat, she swallowed me again, fucking my cock with her mouth.
My climax built in a steady wave, and I suddenly felt my cock spasming, semen pumping in desperate pulses, Sandy greedily sucking it in, swallowing. She pulled herself off of me for just a second to get a breath, and some of my cum dripped onto her breast. She sucked my cock back into her mouth, draining me. I braced myself with my arms, trying not to fall back as I enjoyed the most wonderful, pleasurable feelings I’d ever known.
I looked down as Sandy released my cock from her mouth, pumping me softly, cradling my balls, milking my cock for the last few drops of my semen. Satisfied that her mission was accomplished, she rose to her feet, brushing the hair back from her face.
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” she asked. I shook my head no, pretty sure I knew exactly what she meant. “Do you want to? It would really turn me on.” She knew the right words to say, and as soon as I had nodded assent, she took my face in her hands and kissed me, giving me her tongue and allowing me a small sample of what my cum tasted like. I really had nothing to compare it to; there was a hint of saltiness, a hint of sweetness. I reached out and grazed her thighs with my hands, caressing her softly. Our lips parted, and I followed Sandy’s eyes to where they fell upon the drop of my cum that had fallen onto her breast. Only a small drop, it had nonetheless tried to run south, aiming for her nipple, which was hard and erect. Sandy started to sweep it with her finger, but I caught her hand and pulling her to me, licked her breast clean, moving down to suck in her nipple.
Sandy stepped closer and hugged me to her as I feasted on her tits. My hands roamed up and down her back, rubbing her with affection. I allowed my hands to wander down, grazing her backside. Without realizing exactly what I was doing, I grabbed handfuls of her ass and squeezed softly, massaging her. She moaned and told me to pull her panties off of her. I didn’t need to be told twice and hooked my thumbs into the waistband, sweeping them down off of her hips and pushing them to the floor, where she stepped out of them. My hands returned to her backside and I again took hold of her, feeling her soft fullness as I continued to suckle her.
After a few minutes of this, Sandy stepped back and crawled onto the bed. She made her way to the center of the bed and got comfortable, propping herself up on the pillows, then spreading her legs wide and beckoning me to her. She had me sit between her legs facing her, my semi-hard cock inches away from her pussy. I wasn’t ready to go again just yet, but she and I knew it was merely a matter of time.
Sandy’s pubic hair was not trimmed at all, and she smoothed down the muff of her fur, exposing the pinkness of her sex to me. For the next few minutes, I watched her masturbate slowly, noting that she took great pleasure in me watching. She took my hand and guided me in pleasuring her with my fingers; tracing lightly along the length of her slit, circling around her clit, watching as her labia filled with blood, swelling in arousal. She had me insert first one, and then two fingers into her and stroke her pussy. I began to get hard again watching Sandy become fully aroused, seeing her experience the early stages of sexual gratification. I lifted a finger from her pussy to my mouth in order to taste her, and caught her watching me.
“Taste me with your tongue,” she said.
I awkwardly shifted position and moved between her legs. Sandy guided me in performing oral sex on her, telling me exactly what to do, moaning and her rapid breathing being the involuntary indicators that I was performing satisfactorily. “Steering the ears,” she called it as her hand guided my head through the paces of my giving head to a woman for the first time. Her taste and smell were unique, and arousing in a way that I can’t describe with words. I felt Sandy begin to shudder with her orgasm, and not knowing just exactly what to do, I decided to mimic what she’d done to me. I covered her pussy with my mouth and sucked on her, sliding my tongue up inside her. She arched her back, tensing her body, then releasing it.
“Oh… I’m cumming…,” she said. “I’m cumming…” She tensed and relaxed a few more times, shuddering in between, gradually lessening in intensity. I raised up from her sex, caressing her thighs, reaching forward to rub her belly.
Sandy shifted on the bed and motioned for me to lay down beside her. As I did, she rolled toward me, draping a leg on top of me. She pulled one of my arms around her, snuggling up against me and kissing me. I caressed her body, my free hand wandering lazily along her torso down to her hip.
“Thank you,” she said. “That felt really, really good. I want us to lay here together for a few minutes and then I want you to fuck me.”
“Okay,” I said. There wasn’t anything else to say. I was beside myself, enjoying laying there naked with this beautiful woman who had sucked me off and wanted me to fuck her. That was exactly what she’d said. She wanted my cock in her pussy, and my raging hormones were more than willing to comply
Sandy kissed me on my neck, and her fingers rubbed gently along my body, causing my cock to speed along its way to hardness. She took my cock into her hand and began to stroke it.
“How do you want to fuck me?” Sandy asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want me on my back, do you want me on top of you, or do you want to be behind me?” she asked.
“Can I fuck you from on top and then from behind?” I asked her.
“Sure,” she said, kissing me.
Sandy rolled onto her back and pulled me to her. When I was between her legs, I began to position my cock at the center of her opening.
“Let me do that,” she said, taking hold of me.
I leaned forward, allowing her to rub the tip of my cock against her sex, coating me with her juices as well as getting her ready to receive me. Sandy put the head of my cock into the folds of her pussy and thrust herself up against me just enough to take hold of me before rocking back. The sensation felt wonderful, and I waited for her to thrust up again. On her next thrust up, she released her hand from my cock, grasping my arms.
“Okay,” she said.
I leaned into her and felt my cock penetrate her. Sandy inhaled sharply and I pulled out almost all the way before descending again, finally burying myself within her on the third thrust forward. We slowly began to develop a rhythm, and she talked me through how to change my movement and position to alter the sensations we both were receiving.
“I can feel your cock getting harder inside me,” she said. Difficult to explain how, but I could feel my cock getting harder, too, and knew that my second orgasm of the night would not be terribly far behind it. “You feel really good.”
“So do you, Sandy,” I said, leaning forward and kissing her. “I can feel your pussy tightening around me. Do you like me fucking you?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling. “Let’s change position now.” I pulled out of her watched as she got onto her hands and knees, her ass facing me. “Put your cock back into me.”
I eased back into her, feeling the different sensations of this new angle.
Sandy told me to pull out almost all the way until the ridge of my cock-head was at the edge of her opening, and we slowly began to fuck again. I watched as she reached up to play with herself, and she had me reach around to pinch her nipples.
I felt my orgasm beginning to build, and Sandy had me slow down, focusing on my movement instead of my tempo. Instead of this slowing it down, my orgasm began to intensify.
“Cum for me, sweetie,” she said. “That’s it… keep fucking my pussy… I’m almost ready to cum again, too… yes… cum for me…”
“I’m about to cum, Sandy,” I told her. “Do you want me to cum inside you?”
“Yes,” she said. “Cum inside me… I want to feel you shoot your cum into me… I want to feel it running out of me…”
If that was what she wanted, I was ready to make her happy, and I buried my cock deep in her as I began to cum, thrusting myself into her with ragged motions.
Sandy moaned and threw her head back as she came, pushing back against me. As we began to relax, she reached behind her to put a hand on my hip.
“I’m going to fall forward and lay down… I want you to stay inside of me and stay on top of me,” she said.
I rasped out my agreement, and we stayed connected as we fell to the bed.
It just seemed like the natural thing to do, and I encircled her with my arms, embracing her and kissed her shoulder, neck and cheek when she offered it to me.
I don’t think either of us intended to, but we fell asleep like that. Nearly two hours later, Sandy woke me up, kissing me. She didn’t want to chance Denise coming home and catching us, so she had me get dressed and leave. When I left, she kissed me goodnight and stood in the doorway wearing her robe and nothing else.
SEEING Sandy on a daily basis was a little awkward, but we managed. We slept together four more times that semester, each time a wonderful experience in pleasure.
When I came back from the Christmas break, things changed dramatically. Sandy told me that she and I could be friends, but that things could not continue as they had. I was understandably upset, but managed to bury myself in my studies. Later in the spring, she walked by one day when I was standing talking to my new girlfriend. She just smiled at me in a knowing way and kept walking.
My relationship with Sandy, brief as it was, resulted in my becoming confident around women.
A lot of time has passed since then, but I’ve never forgotten her, and I never will.