The First Time

It was only a brief kiss. His lips were wonderfully soft and yet firm on hers. Merilee thought it might feel odd to kiss him, this boy she’d only thought of as her friend before—but this felt natural. It felt sweet. It felt good.

Because the results of the first had been so fantastic, she leaned in for a second kiss, lacing her fingers through Len’s blonde hair to draw his face even closer, her body pressing into his now. His arms were around her waist. His beard tickled her chin, but only for a second.

All the hard planes of his body, his bone and muscle, pressed into the softness of her womanly figure in the most wonderful way. Merilee had forgotten how wonderful that felt—to be with a lover who felt the same way as you did, to be in love as you were. It changed the whole physical experience, making it more emotional as well as physical.

Then his hands began to roam. It seemed every male would eventually follow the instinct to begin to touch, to feel; wanting to squeeze and explore. It was an instinct which Merilee enjoyed, so she wasn’t about to complain. To be touched that way—it felt good.

With her pelvis so tightly against his, Merilee could feel Len’s erection even through the denim of his jeans. Oh, it’d been months, over half a year, since she’d been with someone, and it suddenly felt even more like a torturous eternity. She tugged at his shirt, feeling for the top button without looking. When the shirt was gone Len reached for hers, tugging the t-shirt up and off to free her modest breasts. He enjoyed the sight of them for a moment before bending to kiss each, finishing with an appreciative squeeze, the straightened again and wrapped his arms around her again before lowering his lips to her own.

This time the kiss was French. Merilee let Len guide her to the sofa and lay on it with him over top of her. Oh god, they were still wearing way too many clothes. To her relief Len began to fiddle with her zip, and she took the opportunity to lower his. They squirmed out of pants, underwear, and socks before resuming their position of the couch. Len’s cock was pressed against her stomach, between their bellies; it was hot on her skin. He was beginning to leak precum, too, which gave Merilee a little thrill.

He wants me that much, she thought, and kissed him even more passionately at the thought. She felt ripe and needy, wanting his generous length to slide into the sensitive depths of her pussy.

Len moved back a little, enough to slide his finger between her thighs to test her readiness, biting his lip in sexy concentration. He moaned encountering the extent of her wetness. She was juicy and ripe as a peach. Reaching down to guide himself, he gently rubbed the head of his cock through her pussy lips and up to her clit for a moment before sinking in to the root with a satisfied groan.

You never quite remember exactly how good it feels until you’re doing it, Merilee thought, as Len pushed in deeper and she felt a little thrill.

They were still kissing as he continued to thrust, deeply and slowly. She was tight around him, and so soft and warm...