Her first time to receive oral and giving back

Her first time to receive oral and giving back

I fidgeted in front of the blue SUV as he stared me down, a sly grin on his face. In nothing but my tiny shorts, a t-shirt, and flip fops, I could not help but feel naked in the cool October night air.

"So, are you going to give me my charger or what?" I quipped, trying to portray a confidence I did not feel.

"Sure," he said. "Get in." His voice bore no room for argument.

I stepped onto the pavement and crossed to the passenger side, hefting myself into the seat. The indescribable, masculine scent of the car washed over me and made my stomach flip. I could sense that something was going to happen between us, and my virgin mind did not know how to feel about that.

"Did you forget your phone charger on purpose?" he teased. The light from my brownstone's porch light cast a halo behind his dark hair and cast the rest of his features in darkness.

"And why would I do that?" Luck was with me: my voice did not tremble.

"So, you would have an excuse to come back down here and see me again, of course."

He laughed, and I could not help but grin back at him.

"No, I wouldn't do that, at least not consciously." I was not lying. Luck had led to my lapse in memory. Of course, I had taken advantage of that by asking him to come back to return it after I had already changed into my scant outfit. I looked at him in the dark and blushed, thankful that he would not be able to see me, as I recalled our day together.

He had come up to visit me at college for the long weekend, as friends sometimes do, and we had stayed up all night driving through Chinatown and singing foreign music at the tops of our lungs. We had finally passed out on the red couch of the common room in the basement of my brownstone, knowing we would not likely be disturbed there.

We held each other for hours under the guise of being asleep, until he had finally asked, "Kate, how asleep are you?"

"Not at all," I admitted.

"Neither am I." Those words made my heart soar.

After that, he followed me to my psychology lecture and held my hand. After dinner, we sat in his car on the side of the road, whispering sweet nothings, caressing each other, and kissing until the windows had fogged and we were breathless. My body yearned for his touch in a way I had never experienced before; my past experiences with intimacy extended to kissing and nothing more. I wanted him badly, and I could see that he wanted me as well.

"Well, I'll give you back your charger if you give me one more kiss," he said more seriously, bringing me back to the present.

I smiled as I leaned into him, my heart beating out of my chest. Our lips touched, and I could taste the sweet lemonade he had been drinking. Our lips parted as we picked up speed, and my tongue darted out to meet his as my fingers grasped his shoulders. His hand rested on my waist, warm and strong. I could feel a gathering wetness between my legs and could not stand to wait any longer.

Breaking the kiss, I pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. Our heavy breathing was the only thing I could hear before I worked up the nerve to say, "I'm not wearing anything under this." Time stopped while I waited for his response. What if I had been wrong about his attraction to me? What if he thought I was a slut or that this was moving too fast? I did not think I could bear the shame if he rejected me.

Finally, he spoke. "Nothing?"

I shook my head.

"No bra? No underwear?"

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head again.

He leaned away from me as he started looking around the car for something, piquing my curiosity. Finally, he reached into the back seat and pulled out a blanket.

A blanket? I wondered. My confusion only increased as he threw it over me, covering me from neck to feet.

"Hold on a minute," he said sternly. His voice had become hoarser and deeper, and it made my insides clench. He moved the car slightly farther down the street, where it was darker. Once we were parked, he turned back to me and leaned forward. The dark look on his face both frightened and excited me. My wetness grows as my pussy clenched.

"So, you're not wearing anything underneath your tiny shorts. What are we going to do about that?"

"I... I do not know," I stammered.

He smirked. "Well, I can think of a few things."

He reached out to me, his strong hand snaking under the blanket he had thrown over me. I gasped as he made contact with the skin of my arm, but he ignored me and kept going. His fingers lightly teased their way down my abdomen to the hem of my shirt, sending tingles up my spine.

I suddenly felt ashamed of my body as his hands went under to make a slow ascent to my breasts. I was not fat, but my stomach was a little soft, not flat and toned like other girls my age who worked out. He said he had been with other girls, and I worried I could not compare. I fought off the urge to bat his hand away, reminding myself that in a minute he would not be touching my stomach anymore. The thought sent a jolt of electricity to my pussy.

My breathing was ragged, and my heart was pounding as he finally reached my breasts. I have never been touched there before, though I had been fantasizing about it for years. He grabbed the left one, kneading it in his hands, and I was sure he would be able to feel my heart hammering away. I squirmed under his ministrations, not knowing what to make of the new sensation. I hissed as his thumb finally brushed against my nipple. It felt amazing. When he started pinching and rolling the little nub between his thumb and finger, I arched my back, thrusting my breast into his hand.

"You like that?" he asked, voice rough.

I could only nod my head, too wrapped up in sensation to speak. When he moved his hand to repeat the treatment on my right breast, I moaned softly.

He suddenly paused. "Hmm, I wonder," he muttered.

"What is it?" My voice was breathless. Why had he stopped? Was something wrong?

He moved closer to me and lifted the blanket to put his head underneath, yanking my shirt up as far as it would go, the movements so quick that I did not have time to protest before his mouth closed over my left nipple. I yelped in surprise.

The hot wet cavern sucked on my nipple gently, his tongue flicked against the bud, bringing it to a hard peak. "Oh my God," I moaned. As he started pinching the right nipple with his fingers again, my hands flew to his head, buried by the blanket. The cloth was rough against my palms, adding to my sensory overload.

He continued suckling at my breast as he released my other one. I barely noticed he had stopped and had instead started moving his hand down to the hem of my tiny shorts.

Once his fingertips start to graze over the top of my shaved mound, I finally panicked.

My hands moved on their own, shoving his mouth off my nipple. "Wait!" I squeaked.

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I... I do not think I can do this," I whispered. Shame flowed through me. I felt like such a coward. I had friends who had already lost their virginities and my roommate was a huge slut, so why couldn't I even let him touch me without panicking? It was pathetic.

"Are you nervous?" he asked. His voice was still rough with lust, but it was also kind. His ability to understand how I was feeling was one of the reasons I liked him so much, and

I felt grateful for it now.

"Yes," I said softly. "You know I've never done more than kiss someone before. I'm about as virginal as you can get." I giggled nervously, trying to make a joke out of the situation so he would not know how embarrassed I was.


(This was writing my my oldest sister that no longer here it was writing in the German langue so I to translate it for here.)

To be continued