She had unforgettable blue eyes. One would think that the only comparable color would be that of the Caribbean Sea or the sky on a clear day. Her blond curly locks, of which she was self-conscious, hung loose, not restricted by any type of hair-tie.
I had an interest in her almost immediately after I had met her. At the junction I was at in my life when we met, interest almost certainly meant lust. The way that she looked at me almost suggested the same thing.
We went on a couple of dates and I grew to respect her based on her convictions. She was deeply religious of her own accord; it was not forced by her parents. She didn't force her beliefs on me, a self-proclaimed atheist. She didn't drink, smoke or do drugs. I dabbled in all three. She had not experienced any pleasures of the flesh; I had indulged quite frequently. She was 17 and I was 21. My somewhat limited conscience had found troubles getting past that.
The time that we spent together became more and more frequent. She would lie to her parents and say that she was staying at such and such's house, all the while bedding down with me. I did not want to be her first when I could only estimate the amount of women that I have encountered. It wasn't an astronomical number; however I had to really think about it to give any type of answer.
As our nights together became more and more heated, my desires and my intentions became muddled. On one particular night, I had to back away, naked and wanting so much more.
We were in my bed. It was mid-winter and snowing outside. Marvin Gaye loomed in the background, while headlights chased shadows about my bedroom walls, through the blind. I did not want to be her first and clearly stated so.
She replied, "That's why you have to be."
I thought this to be a bit silly, at the time. She moved back into my embrace and I could feel the heat from her skin. Her breasts pressed up against my body. She began to kiss my neck and made her way up to my earlobes, knowing this would cause me shudder and develop goose-flesh on my back. She turned me in her arms and pushed me on the bed.
She knew that she had initiated a game that I would see to its end. She kissed my chest and downwards to my stomach, stopping to emphasize her lip's presence at certain areas. Her lips and tongue made their final appearance below my waist. By instinct and pure pleasure, I found myself curling my toes and running my hands through those golden, curly locks, shaded gray in the darkness.
An undeterminable amount of time passed and I signaled her that I wanted to taste her. I kissed her stomach migrated to the insides of her thighs, if only to tease just enough. I lapped at her clit very gently hoping to give her chills. She shuddered and I knew that I was doing something right. I continued my kissing as her thigh muscles contracted about my head. She ran her fingers through my hair scratching and clawing at me while writhing in pleasure. Though it was dark, I knew that her eyes were closed.
She put her hands at the side of my face and gently pulled me upward. She wanted me inside of her. Typically, I have known it to hurt a woman the first time that she lays with a man. I had no reason not to believe that it was not her first time, as I would not have cared either way. She showed no signs of displeasure, while we danced rhythmically, to some unknown beat.
She pulled me, clawing at my back, directing me harder and faster. I moved as I was told, knowing that I can easily finish at any time. She would open her eyes periodically and stare into my soul not knowing what she was searching for. She was breathing as though she were at the end of running a 10K. I wrapped my hands at the small of her back, looking for the right angle and leverage. My sole intent and purpose was her coming, I could come secondary, if not at the same time.
She had taken the Lord's name in vain a few times and I knew from the spasms in her waist and below, that it was imminent. I continued on to my goal line knowing that closure was evident.
I laid there on top of her, sweating and breathing heavy, both of us sweating and breathing heavy, still inside of her. She pulled me close, as the intensity of the sex had fatigued me.
Second-thoughts danced about my head: What did I just do? I don't want to hurt this girl's feelings.
I knew that morning would come and I would have time to sort it out then...
To be continued...
I had an interest in her almost immediately after I had met her. At the junction I was at in my life when we met, interest almost certainly meant lust. The way that she looked at me almost suggested the same thing.
We went on a couple of dates and I grew to respect her based on her convictions. She was deeply religious of her own accord; it was not forced by her parents. She didn't force her beliefs on me, a self-proclaimed atheist. She didn't drink, smoke or do drugs. I dabbled in all three. She had not experienced any pleasures of the flesh; I had indulged quite frequently. She was 17 and I was 21. My somewhat limited conscience had found troubles getting past that.
The time that we spent together became more and more frequent. She would lie to her parents and say that she was staying at such and such's house, all the while bedding down with me. I did not want to be her first when I could only estimate the amount of women that I have encountered. It wasn't an astronomical number; however I had to really think about it to give any type of answer.
As our nights together became more and more heated, my desires and my intentions became muddled. On one particular night, I had to back away, naked and wanting so much more.
We were in my bed. It was mid-winter and snowing outside. Marvin Gaye loomed in the background, while headlights chased shadows about my bedroom walls, through the blind. I did not want to be her first and clearly stated so.
She replied, "That's why you have to be."
I thought this to be a bit silly, at the time. She moved back into my embrace and I could feel the heat from her skin. Her breasts pressed up against my body. She began to kiss my neck and made her way up to my earlobes, knowing this would cause me shudder and develop goose-flesh on my back. She turned me in her arms and pushed me on the bed.
She knew that she had initiated a game that I would see to its end. She kissed my chest and downwards to my stomach, stopping to emphasize her lip's presence at certain areas. Her lips and tongue made their final appearance below my waist. By instinct and pure pleasure, I found myself curling my toes and running my hands through those golden, curly locks, shaded gray in the darkness.
An undeterminable amount of time passed and I signaled her that I wanted to taste her. I kissed her stomach migrated to the insides of her thighs, if only to tease just enough. I lapped at her clit very gently hoping to give her chills. She shuddered and I knew that I was doing something right. I continued my kissing as her thigh muscles contracted about my head. She ran her fingers through my hair scratching and clawing at me while writhing in pleasure. Though it was dark, I knew that her eyes were closed.
She put her hands at the side of my face and gently pulled me upward. She wanted me inside of her. Typically, I have known it to hurt a woman the first time that she lays with a man. I had no reason not to believe that it was not her first time, as I would not have cared either way. She showed no signs of displeasure, while we danced rhythmically, to some unknown beat.
She pulled me, clawing at my back, directing me harder and faster. I moved as I was told, knowing that I can easily finish at any time. She would open her eyes periodically and stare into my soul not knowing what she was searching for. She was breathing as though she were at the end of running a 10K. I wrapped my hands at the small of her back, looking for the right angle and leverage. My sole intent and purpose was her coming, I could come secondary, if not at the same time.
She had taken the Lord's name in vain a few times and I knew from the spasms in her waist and below, that it was imminent. I continued on to my goal line knowing that closure was evident.
I laid there on top of her, sweating and breathing heavy, both of us sweating and breathing heavy, still inside of her. She pulled me close, as the intensity of the sex had fatigued me.
Second-thoughts danced about my head: What did I just do? I don't want to hurt this girl's feelings.
I knew that morning would come and I would have time to sort it out then...
To be continued...
