So it’s like freshman year, and I’m homesick and lonely, and this guy sitting at my table in English asks after class if I want to get a coffee or something, so I go with him, and we have coffee, and we talk about our families, and he tells a funny but sad story about his pet goldfish when he was like five, and we end up in his room. Somehow he got a single, and I’m impressed by how clean it is, like spare, you know, nothing like my room at home with clothes mounded up on the chair. He’s neat. And cute. And serious. Or so it seems to me. So serious when he undresses me. And I’m so nervous.

So we end up sitting on his bed, not saying anything, just looking at each other, and his penis is erect. And it’s so big. I think there’s no way it will fit, you know? Especially since I’m, like, you know, a virgin.

So he takes my hand and moves it gently between my legs, and then his hand moves to his penis, and he holds himself, his penis, his cock, and he starts stroking himself. Gently. Slowly. Mostly near the top. And I sort of mimic what he’s doing, touching myself, slowly, mostly back and forth motions, not exactly like I do at home, and we’re looking at each other while we’re doing it, looking into each other’s eyes. And his eyes are so intense, but also kind.