Like a VirginPosted: June 28, 2013
The first time I had sex outside my marriage, it felt like the first time ever.
I had only been with one man for the past 8 years; my lover’s kiss, smell, touch and taste felt foreign and exciting.
I told him I was scared, and so he just held me as we sat on a fallen log in the woods by the river. He knew what I wanted. He did not need to ask. My body was screaming for him but my head was asking “Can I do this? Can I really do this?” And then he kissed me, and I was done.
What I love about sex, especially the first time with a new person, is how it makes every thought vanish. It doesn’t matter what is happening around you, or anywhere else. The act is all-consuming. So when he kissed me, soft and warm and wet, everything else disappeared. We devoured each other, and things got all hazy and frantic and hot. I felt like a teenager. I wanted him inside me. I would have done it right there, on the bank of the river, in the sand, but he pulled me up and led me to a shaded grove. There was a chair that some person had left behind, and he sat me in it and kissed me again. I wrapped my tongue around his and unzipped his pants and took his cock in my mouth. He was hard and delicious. He tasted like what I can only describe as man. I sucked him and rubbed him with my tongue, and he rubbed my tits and made me moan against him.
We fucked. We fucked in the chair–him on top, me on top. He fucked me from behind against a tree. We were in public, in hot, white daylight. We could hear people talking nearby, but it couldn’t have mattered less. I am a screamer, and so I screamed. I have no control over my vocal chords when it comes to sex–my body does what it wants to do. He pounded into me while I sat with my legs wrapped around him, pulling him in, taking it and giving it. I came hard, and when he came I felt him throbbing inside me. I was utterly satisfied but I already wanted more.
“Wow”, was all I could say, when I had finally caught my breath.