“Can I walk you home?” That was the way I said it to her as we stood on the corner that warm summer evening. Jamie (we’ll refer to her by that name) looked at me a little strangely and then shrugged her shoulders. I waved goodbye to my friends and began to walk my good friend back to her house. I had no idea what was about to happen.
“You don’t need to take me right up to the door,” she exclaimed quietly as we reached her apartment. “My dad doesn’t like guys to walk me home.” However, her dad’s truck wasn’t there.
We reached the door and found a note saying that her father was gone for the night with some friends at a neighboring town. He had left the key in the usual spot, so Jamie unlocked the door and we went inside.
The apartment was quiet, and we sat down on the couch to talk. As we went on we started talking about the dating situations at school. I don’t have alot of luck in that area, and though she’s outrageously beautiful she doesn’t either.
I must have said something to make her feel bad for me, because all of a sudden she asked me if it would be so bad if we went out. I looked at her a little strangely–we were only friends, and we had known each other for two and a half years. Dating would be crazy? Suddenly the conversation was on sex.
“What are your views on premarital sex?”
What was I supposed to say? “I don’t think it’s bad as long as it isn’t premiscuous and you at least have an attraction for the person you make love to.”
I should have suspected something right there from the strange look on her face, but I didn’t. She showed me to her bathroom, and after taking a piss I washed my hands and opened the door. It opened forcefully enough to upset some things untop of a drawer. I picked up the fallen objects, realizing only then that a box of condoms had fallen to the floor as well.
I didn’t set them down; I stared at it like it was the Olympic trophy. What the hell was wrong with me?
I looked up and Jamie was staring at them too. She was also looking me over, and suddenly I realized what she wanted.
I came closer to her and put my hands on her shoulders, staring into her beautiful pale face, framed by long, straight black hair. Then our lips met and we were kissing so passionately I thought she might cry. All this time we had known each other and talked about everything…and yet here we were, tongue-ing each other in hopes of no tomorrow.
And then she placed her hand on my pants.
I was like a zombie. I took off my shirt, then my pants, then my boxers. It was so automatic, so natural, for me to be standing there with nothing but a smile on; my growing erection, my small line of chesthair, my lean muscles…it must have somehow aroused her as well.
Suddenly I was helping her remove her shirt, and then her pants and underclothes…and then I was seeing her naked body for the first time. And there was nothing to hold me back.
She sat down on the couch and I kneeled there, finding her pussy and putting my lips and tongue to it. I licked and sucked at the flowing juices, and she started to moan and sigh, running her small hands through my thick brown hair.
“Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
“I dunno.”
After a while I was on the floor staring up at the ceiling while she gave me a blowjob, the best I could ever hope for. And then I took a condom from the box, fitted it over my dick (now so big it almost hurt me), and laid down with her upon the couch.
I slid into her and almost gasped myself from the tightness. She felt beautiful, alive…and wet. But I could tell she wasn’t deriving as much pleasure as I seemed to be. I pulled out.
“I’ll stop if it’s hurting you.”
“Stop and I’ll kill you.”
I plunged into her, glad that she had granted me permission to make love to her. And that’s exactly what we did; first me on top and then she on top. I used five different condoms that night, filling each with more semen than I thought possible. It of the best nights of my life, and I knew that Jamie and I were very, very in love.
For some reason we’ve gone back to “just friends” and somehow put that night of mindless but terrific sex behind us. She’s seeing another guy and has vowed not to make love to anyone until her wedding night. Friends is fine with me; but I’ll never forget the pleasure we had that warm summer night in August of 2000.
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Moonlit Evening
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