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by Dalton
The first time I ever had an orgasm my jeans were still zipped, my panties were in place and I had no idea what happened. I was a freshman in college and I was lying on my bed with a guy who I’d met a couple weeks previously in class. He was a very nice guy named Tommy and he was very much what you’d call a breast man. And, well, that being said, I was not surprised he was attracted to me. I have what you’d probably call perfect breasts. I know that sounds conceited but let me be clear here.
I started to develop around the time I turned 14 and things didn’t seem to finish fully till I was a senior in high school. My little buds slowly grew, filled out and formed until I was a perfect C cup. Without a bra, my breasts were very firm and topped with medium areolae and thick heavy nipples that always seemed quite sensitive when they got hard. I remember very clearly seeing a picture of some super model or other nude on a beach and then looking at her breasts. I realized that they looked almost like mine only mine stood up even more proudly.
The thing was, I was pretty busy in high school, so I didn’t date much and never really had sex, to speak of, besides a few stolen kisses. When I got to college, all bets were off though. I wanted to know what I’d been missing, but I figured I’d better take it slow, being that I was a virgin, totally inexperienced and sadly lacking in knowledge. The first thing I did was to start reading every article, book and magazine I could find about sex. This was way back before the Internet, so things were a little different. After starting to feel like I had a little more knowledge, I began by exploring my own body, but since everything I was reading in Cosmo was kind of orgasm centered, I focused on my vagina, stroking, rubbing, fingering and experimenting until I think I finally gave up in tears of frustration.
Where was the white-hot pleasure? Where were my screams? Sure, I got wet and things felt nice when I touched them, but where was the explosion? Well, at this point I figured that maybe I needed a helping hand. I had met a guy in class who had been looking at me a lot. We started to talk and far from being a perv, he was an art student and he said he really liked my curves. OK, so maybe it was a line, but he had nice eyes and he seemed very sweet. We began to talk more and soon started to date. First it was holding hands, then kisses and then, on that very special night, I decided to let him go as far as he wanted. I was sick of being a virgin and I wanted to feel all that pleasure.
Just to be safe, I even borrowed a condom from my roommate, who had quite the hot little thing going with her boyfriend. She and I had started to talk about sex in a sort of casual way as I was a freshman and she was a junior, so she was much more experienced. But we never got to be truly close friends even though we got on pretty well. So there we were, Tommy and I on my bed, kissing passionately. Then he started to touch me. His hand moved from my back and slowly moved up my side and over my breast. I felt the warmth of his hand through my blouse and my bra and an odd shiver went down my spine. I moaned softly into his mouth as our kiss got harder and he left his hand on my breast.
Then he broke the kiss and pulled away so he could look down at me. I was on my back and I looked into his sexy brown eyes and he smiled. “Your boob feels amazing,” he said. He moved his hand over it again and I groaned again. I made no move to stop him, so when he began to unbutton my blouse I just smiled up at him. In fact, I sat up, slipped my shirt off after he undid the last button and reach behind me to unclasp the three hooks of my heavy support bra. I tossed it on the floor on top of my blouse and breathed a sigh of relief as my breasts reveled in being free. Tommy stared at me, his eyes wide, drinking in my half nude body. I liked that. I liked how he looked at me, as if I was a work of art.
“Could I draw you sometime? Nude I mean?” he asked, his voice breathless. I nodded silently and lay back, waiting to see what he would do next. Carefully, almost reverently, he reached down and very softly traced his finger over the heavy curve of my left breast. I moaned again, as heat began to build between my legs and hot sensations began to buzz through my belly. His fingers moved, exploring every inch of my breasts and then he began to gently touch and stroke my nipples, which were hard as diamonds by this point. And that’s when it happened. As his fingers moved over my nipple, tracing around the areola of my left breast, I felt a huge rush of sensation that I’d never imagined. The heat and light blossomed and I felt my heart race and my breath come in gasps. My vagina was soaking wet by now, my panties wrecked and my whole body was shaking. And then he leaned down and kissed my nipple.
What happened next was beyond my wildest imaginings. My body exploded. I came for the first time ever. My vagina churned and my thighs trembled, my breasts were like huge points of light, crying out as his lips and tongue caressed and sucked first one nipple, then the other and I just kept coming. I cried out and finally grabbed the pillow and buried my face in it, screaming in raw pleasure until I was hoarse and he stopped his wondrous ministrations. He pulled the pillow from my face and stared into my eyes. “Are you OK?” he asked, obviously not used to that sort of response from a girl.
“I’m way past OK,” I said, still gasping. “That was amazing. I never felt anything like that before,” I said, reaching up to touch his cheek. We kissed then and I suddenly wanted more than anything to be naked with this guy. I stood from the bed unsteadily and quickly slipped off my jeans and panties as he sat watching me, a very sweet, dumbfounded look on his face. I stood before him nude, enjoying his gaze as it moved over my body from my face to my breasts and downward to the hairy triangle between my legs. We didn’t shave back then, so I imagine I looked pretty sexy to him with his artist’s sensibility. “Well, aren’t you going to get undressed too? Or do you want me to do it for you?” I asked, smiling shyly at him.
He stood on the other side of the bed and stripped quickly, looking a bit shy himself. When he removed his underwear, it was my turn to look dumbstruck as I stared at his penis, which was very stiff and jutted upwards from his body. Without speaking, we lay back down on the bed and began to explore each other. I ran my hands over his hairless chest and I tried playing with his tiny man nipples. He groaned when I touched him but he really responded when I began to touch his penis. I think he was only slightly more experienced than I was because as he moved his hand between my legs, he seemed very unsure of what to do. He went very slowly though and he was also very gentle so he never hurt me as his fingers slowly slid between my wet lips and began to move inside.
Would I come again? He began to finger me very slowly and it felt nice. We were looking into one another’s eyes as I stroked his penis and he fingered me. He began to breathe harder and gasp. I was rubbing my hand up and down his penis, feeling the smooth, hot skin and having no idea what I was doing. He finger slid in and out of me, occasionally grazing what I figured must be my clitoris. Each time his finger hit that spot, it tickled, but that was it. And then, he cried out and I looked down just in time to see thick white fluid spurt from the red, engorged head of his penis and splash onto my thighs. It was warm and I kept stroking, not knowing what else to do and he moaned and cried out, his body shivering next to mine until he pulled his hand from my vagina and gripped my wrist, stopping my movement.
“Was that wrong? Did I hurt something?” I asked, not understanding why he stopped me.
“No, it felt too good. It was too much tickling,” he groaned, as he gently pulled my hand from his softening shaft. He lay back and breathed deeply for a minute. I got up and grabbed a tissue to wipe his fluid from me, taking a tentative sniff when my back was turned to him. Odd stuff. Kind of like sharp seawater or maybe ammonia, and kind of earthy too. A bit got on my fingers and I licked it. Kind of salty and thick but nice too. Not sure I’d want a mouthful of this stuff, but sucking him might be fun. I dropped the damp wad of tissue in the trash and got back on the bed with him.
We began to hug and kiss and touch each other again and his penis was soon hard. “Should we ummm…” he asked as I held his organ, enjoying his fingers between my legs.
“Make love?” I finished his sentence for him. He nodded, looking pretty nervous. Probably as nervous as I felt. I handed him the condom and watched as he fumbled it out of the packet and slowly rolled it down until the thin rubber film coated his manhood from top to base. It looked wet and slick and very large to my virginal eyes. I lay back and spread my legs wide. I had no idea if this would hurt a lot or a little or even feel good. I knew I was very wet, but that’s all I knew. He climbed between my legs and held himself up over me on his hands as he maneuvered his hips to get inside me.
I felt the slippery shaft move between my lips and press, but he kept missing. I reached down and slipped him a bit to the left and lower and pushed myself against him, to help him inside. I felt pressure and filled and hot and filled and wet and then with a moan, he slid it home. I cried out as I felt something inside me give way. It stung a bit and it was sore but not bad. “Ohhh,” was all I could manage. He held still, buried deep in me for a minute before he began to move in and out very slowly and gently. It felt OK, but no fireworks. And so I took the plunge. I reached to his neck and drew him down to my breasts. The minute his lips encircled my nipple, I knew I was there. He began to suck and lick and soon my body was screaming upwards.
I cried out as the first orgasm coursed through my filled, straining sex and he took this as a sign to really go for it. He began to thrust faster and deeper and I cried out again, feeling my vagina quake and squeeze his penis as his lips drew me upwards, ever upwards. I held his head against my chest, praying he wouldn’t ever stop sucking my breasts. He didn’t, so I didn’t stop coming. He moaned into my moist flesh as he licked and sucked, moving back and forth from one breast to the other, his hips pounding into me and his penis sliding in and out of my soaked core. Then, all at once, he pulled away from me, his eyes squeezed shut and cried out. I felt his penis inside me expand and then begin to jump and thrust erratically. “I’m coming!” he gasped. I sort of figured.
He thrust in spasmodic, shallow movements, his penis half in me now as opposed to when he was fully buried seconds before. He moaned, sweat dripped from his chest onto my breasts and he grimaced as if he was in pain. My orgasm had ebbed and died when his lips left my nipples, but I’d already come so much I was getting exhausted and sore down there. Finally, just when I thought the poor thing might pass out, he literally moaned and collapsed onto me, our sweaty bodies sliding wetly against one another and my nipples singing softly as his chest slid against them. I held him tightly, wrapping my arms and legs around him and he sighed happily and looked up into my eyes. “That was the best thing I ever felt in my life,” he said, his voice a breathy whisper. I smiled at him and moved to kiss his beautiful lips.
I felt his hand move down between us and He pulled free, his fingers gripped around the base of his rubber coated manhood. “Sorry, but I didn’t want to leak into you,” he explained. I looked down and saw that his penis was getting small again and the thick white fluid in the tip of the condom was flowing quickly downwards and out the bottom of the condom, leaving milky droplets on his thighs and tangled in his pubic hair. We stayed lovers for the rest of the semester but I have to admit we never fell in love. We remained friends though and to this day I still silently thank him for opening my eyes and my body to the true pleasures of sex.
Nowadays, when I want to masturbate, I know just what to do. I simply lay back on my bed nude, and begin to caress and stroke my still lovely breasts. Oh, they’re not as firm as they once were. A couple decades and breastfeeding my son did that, but they still look great, according to my husband and they still feel great as far as I’m concerned. I stroke and squeeze my nipples, running my fingertips around and around before squeezing my hard little nubs. My body warms, my vagina begins to moisten and my breathing gets ragged. I take each nipple between thumb and forefinger and gently squeeze and cry out as the first waves surge from my belly downwards. And then I lean down while lifting my right (always the right) breast to my lips and I gently lick the hard nipple. And I come. The moment that tongue touches the hardened skin I feel the explosion erupt between my legs and I squeeze my thighs together, intensifying and sharpening the feeling as I move lower and begin to suckle my nipple.
I suck, and cry out, a muffled sob escapes my full mouth as the second and then the third wave courses through me. And then, with a final wiggle of my tongue, I let go and sag back against the pillow, feeling my body emanating heat and light, the wetness dripping between my tightly pressed thighs. Mmmm, I love my breasts.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please buy the book, Flying Solo, about all the various ways people self-pleasure at: http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=5&products_id=1078.