Where it happened: Car and Home
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
Interesting website. Some of these stories reveal a good bit of thought between the parties involved, which is as it should be in such an important experience. Some of them show little or no thought at all being given to either the scale or importance of the event two people create, or to possible negative consequences (pregnancy, disease, emotional hurt). Many of them indicate people so shallow it’s ridiculous. And sad, because they don’t know what they’re missing.
Being “in lust” is not the same as being “in love.” That’s a major difference. Nothing wrong in being in lust with someone; I’ve had that temptation several times, over the years. But my first time, a little over forty years ago, was with a girl I grew to knew over two years at my high school, whom I fell completely and thoroughly in love with, and was always considerate of her feelings, and careful not to put us in a position that could cause us both a great deal of grief.
Contraception in my town at that time was just about impossible to get, unless you were a girl and were able to convince your folks you needed to get on the pill to “regulate your cycle,” as premarital sex was greatly frowned upon by our parents generation, and probably just as widely practiced, insofar as possible, by mine. So we’d go on weekend dates (school games, movies, occasional bowling or putt-putt, community theatre) and afterwards we’d find a quiet, out-of-the-way to park for a while.
It always started out with conversation about whatever, then we’d start to kiss, and after a while she’d let me unbutton her blouse, and she’d unhook her bra, and then I was in heaven! Her skin was so smooth, her breasts perfectly round and fit my hands so perfectly; I just loved caressing them! They were only a 32-34-C, but I always thought them perfect, and perfectly proportioned to her slender 5’6″ figure. I learned to get her really excited by caressing her nipples with my thumbs, and then my tounge. I could often bring her to orgasm by caressing and/or kissing both nipples at the same time. And I always made sure I got her off before she got me off.
She had laughing blue eyes, beautiful long blonde hair, a good brain and sense of humor, and a sense of grace and gentleness that just entranced me. I thought she was a goddess, and felt very lucky she liked me enough to be going steady with me. I was in heaven! We dated for three years, including the very difficult next year while I was attending an out-of-state college.
After a while, I’d ask her to leave her bra off, when I’d go pick her up for our date, and that was always wonderful, when she’d do that. She was always self-conscious about being recognized as not wearing one, so had to choose dark blouses that wouldn’t give her nipples away. But in the car, later, with nothing but an open shirt and her bare breasts to kiss and caress, it was wonderful. (She never would let me take off her top entirely, while in the car; she was always afraid somebody would come by and see us. One time a cop did come by, but we hadn’t gone any further than just madly kissing, down on the front seat, so no harm was done that time.)
Later on, she’d let me stroke her legs and pull off her panties. Girls back then wore skirts or dresses most of the time, jeans not having quite made it into the female population then like they are now. After we’d kissed and necked, and I’d caressed her chest to get her good and started, I’d slide my fingers in her hot spot and try to find her magic button, and then I’d play with it as long as it took to make her climax. Then she’d go to pulling on my pole, kissing me and stroking my nipples, until I’d explode all over her hand, and then we’d clean it up. (My mom had taught me to always carry a handkerchief in my pants pocket, and that senior year in high school I found out she was right.)
We never did go “all the way” during that school year, partly because we were always worried about her getting pregnant, and partly because we didn’t really have room in the cars I had to drive to try that and be comfortable. Although she and I talked about it several times, and we both wanted to. But it was OK they way things were; at least we had some kind of a sex life, and we were both very much in love. And it was enough, at the time.
The one time we did try to go all the way, and almost got caught, was during the following summer. My parents were separated at the time, and I was staying with my dad, my younger brothers with my mom. So they’d come over on Saturday afternoons to spend time with him, and he’d take them out to dinner somewhere. My girl and I stayed at the house until they came back, supposedly watching TV or playing card games, and then I could use his car for us to go on our date. So this one time, after he’d left with my brothers, we started kissing and caressing, undressed each other and got onto my narrow twin bed. She was so tight, I couldn’t get it in, and then we heard dad’s car pull up front! I’d turned off the lamp but still had a blacklight on, and my bedroom window faced the street he parked on. So we jumped up, turned on the light and scrambled to get dressed before they came inside.
We were sitting back down at the card table we’d been at whenthey all left, although we were both still breathing pretty hard. I wondered if my dad or my brothers would have noticed the light out, or that anything was out of sorts, but they never said a word. That’s the only time I tried that in that house that summer.
The next year I was off at college, and she wound up spending most of the next summer at a college camp out of town, so we didn’t get to see each other very much that year. That was very hard. I nearly starved to death, so to speak. But she was just as bad off as I was. And neither of us went out with anyone meanwhile. The following year we went to the same upstate college, so got a chance to at least be together more. The summer after that she suddenly and unexpectedly broke it off, saying she wanted to try dating other people. I was demolished. I had thought we were planning on eventually graduating and then get married.
I will always believe that this experience gave me a much sounder footing within myself, even though we didn’t stay together as a couple. My Angel gave me more confidence in myself than anyone ever had, up to that point. And even though we never had the chance to get into all the possible acrobatics of sex like kids nowadays do, what we had then was both beautiful and sacred, enormously satisfying, and profoundly shaping of us as spiritual beings. I’m very glad my first experiences with emerging sexuality were spent with her. We were mentally, emotionally, and spiritually bound to each other during our time together, as well as physically. I will never forget her, and still miss her laughing smile or gentle kiss. (For years after, I could taste her lipstick, just by thinking about her and our time together. How I craved those kisses.)
Be careful who you pick to become close to. Sex is a major part of Life, and the right one is worth waiting for. It is sometimes better to be tempted and resist, than to yield and be disappointed. Been there, done that, too.
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