Where it happened: her apartment
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
I had oral sex once. I was the receiver. An incredibly beautiful woman, with whom I was desperately in love, offered it to me. I was surprised. I didn’t expect it. I was paralyzed by the pleasure. I could barely gasp her name. She had been more than generous. I had just wanted to lie with her and hold her close. I had never had sex. I didn’t expect it. I simply loved her and wanted to hold her.
I cannot imagine what was in her heart. I know she loved me as much as I loved her. We had spoken about marriage mere weeks after we had met. We kissed deeply. We already knew each other well.
Before she gave me oral sex, I considered oral sex something that men forced women to do. I thought it was dirty and nasty. I didn’t think of it as something that gave women any pleasure. If women did it all, I thought, they did it only because they felt pressured by their boyfriends to do it.
But there was this woman, freely, gently, lovingly, and enthusiastically pleasuring me in a way I had never been pleasured before. As she swirled her tongue around my penis and gently sucked, the pleasure was so intense I could barely gasp her name.
She surprised me. When we lay down, she kissed my lips. Then she kissed my neck. She moved down, kissing my chest and my belly, until suddenly, her lips were on my penis. “Oh, Teri,” I gasped. I was weak with pleasure. Never had I felt such intense pleasure.
Overcome with such unexpected pleasure, I lost discretion. I didn’t believe in premarital sex, but at that moment, I could not simply take pleasure from this woman without returning it to her. She had been more than generous. I had not asked for that pleasure. I only wanted to hold her close and kiss her. She chose to give me a thrill I have never forgotten.
I was a 24 year old virgin. I had no confidence sexually. I had no reason to think I could please this woman sexually who had been so generous to me. The myths fell that night. My fears disappeared. I gained sexual confidence when an incredibly beautiful woman guided me into her body.
I sat up and moved on top of her. She opened her legs to receive me. I crouched down and moved forward, expecting my penis to naturally find the entrance to her vagina. I missed. Then she, lovingly, reached back and guided me into her, removing all doubt on my part that I was using her or exploiting her. She welcomed me. She wanted me. In expressing her desire for me so clearly, she completely erased my own fears that I was sexually undesirable, unwanted, and useless to women in general. In that moment, my fears and doubts about women in general didn’t matter. This incredibly beautiful woman had already expressed love and devotion to me and her generous sexual attention simply sealed what she had already expressed.
This was no cheap one night stand. It was the expression of deep love and devotion, and an expression of hope that we would become a married couple.
When I entered her, she was very prepared for me. She was slippery and open. As I plunged deeply within her, I felt her body yield to mine. I didn’t feel the searing pleasure I had expected. I had feared that the pleasure would be even more intense than the pleasure of her mouth gently sucking me. But the pleasure was just enough to keep me erect. It did not give me an immediate urge to ejaculate.
I gently moved in and out of her. She described my movements as “gentle, but firm,” and would express surprise that I was so sexually competent as a first time lover. I would plunge deeply and give it a little extra push when I reached the deepest point. She would later say that she enjoyed it when I “went deep.” I’d pull out slightly and plunge deeply again. I was in no hurry to ejaculate. My gentle thrusts were just my way of telling her how much I truly loved her. I was not performing for her. I was simply saying, “I love you,” in a way that words could not express.
As I moved gently above her, she pleaded for me to slow down. I thought she wanted me to slow down to keep myself from ejaculating. The truth was she was on the verge of orgasm and she wanted to experience orgasm with me. As I continued my slow, gentle, firm, rhythmic motions, her body began to twitch and her hips began to heave. Then, I heard gasps of pleasure as orgasm overtook her. “Oh ________, “ she uttered my name. “I couldn’t wait.”
Her orgasm, and her words were music to my ears. She had dispelled myths. She had given me confidence that I was useful to women. Her orgasm was clearly not fake. Had it been fake, she would have had no reason to apologize for reaching orgasm without me. Had it been fake, she would not have begged me to stay inside of her when I later reached ejaculation.
You see, the feminists then were telling men women didn’t need men’s penises for pleasure. We men were being told that a woman’s orgasm was due to clitoral stimulation, and that women got no pleasure from deep penetration. We were told that women would just as soon have pleasure from clitoral stimulation. The literature in general back then was anti-male. Men were brutish, selfish lovers, who easily and often ejaculated, leaving women unsatisfied. Women, it seemed, hated men for begin so selfish. Premature ejaculation, we were told, was a major male sin, and resulted from habitual masturbation, exposure to pornography, and selfish habits that contributed to quick release. It was the rare man who could pleasure a woman, which was why women in general, we were told, didn’t need men. Didn’t Gloria Steinem say, “a woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle?” Hadn’t Helen Reddy sung, “I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman?” The very clear message back then was that the penis was not important to women at all. Until I met this incredibly beautiful woman, who not only loved me, but very clearly enjoyed my penis, I felt disconnected from my humanity. I felt like a man who was cursed with a sex drive and no means to satisfy it.
The evening would continue. We got up and took a shower, where she generously lathered my penis with soap, and shared a smile with me as she searched my face for an expression of pleasure as she lovingly massaged me. After the shower, we stood naked in front of the mirror, where she verbally expressed delight in my naked body. Then it was back to the living room floor where we made love again and I ejaculated inside of a woman for the first time in my life. Her response after my ejaculation was to cup my balls in her hands and say, “don’t leave.” We just lay there and held each other until the passion subsided.
I’ll never forget her loving hands, as she gently cleaned my penis with a warm wash cloth and lay naked with me. It was such a time of bonding and sexual healing, as she opened up to me about the hurts and disappointments she had suffered in the past, and as I expressed some of my own doubts and fears.
Soon, I became erect again, and she took the initiative this time. She moved above me and tried to insert herself onto my penis. It didn’t work the first time, but I eventually put myself inside of her and carried her, impaled on my penis, to the bed. There she would get her third orgasm for the evening and I would ejaculate for the second time. I remember her moving above me. I remember her smiles as she let me play with her breasts. I remember how she would close her eyes and lean backward, as if she were savoring the pleasure.
Had we been married, it would have been the most beautiful, perfect experience of my life. I had never experienced such joy, such pleasure, such unity. After that evening I knew it was possible for a man and a woman to have a beautiful, harmonious relationship. I knew that not all women hated men. I knew it was possible to truly experience unity and harmony with a woman. I knew that not all women were hard bitten, bitter, feminists. I knew that there was at least one woman in this world who was not afraid to express her need for a man. I certainly was not above expressing my need of a woman. I felt complete. I felt like I had a role to play in the human experience.
We did not marry, but we did not have a bitter parting. I would go onto meet other fine women, but I would enjoy them for who they were rather than for sex. Only one of those women would offer me sex, and she very clearly tied her sexual attention with deep feelings of love. She, also, would reveal to me that she, and women in her circle of friends, very much enjoyed the feeling of being filled by a penis. Orgasm was important, but so was the sensation of being filled by a man and held in his arms at the same time. In discussions with another woman, when I mentioned that it was possible for women to have children without men, she very clearly expressed the desire to get pregnant the regular way.
I think that, partly as a result of my first time sexual experience, I became better able to be a friend of a woman. The walls of distrust and hostility that were erected by feminist rhetoric came tumbling down. I became better able to accept myself as a sexual being, and I began to see that love and sex were inextricably intertwined. My life experience proved to me that those who were trying to turn men and women into beasts and animals weren’t writing the truth. I learned to know women. At least the women I got to know were in touch with who they were and weren’t trying to displace men or destroy the traditional family. They weren’t bitter, hateful, and cold as the feminist writers were.
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