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My name is Celina. I’m 21 years old, 5’ 4” tall. I
weigh 105 lbs. I have dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a good complexion. I
work out 3 times a week at a local health club, tan twice a week at a
tanning salon, and I’m strictly hetro. I’ve never been with another girl
(despite several “opportunities while I was in college) and have no
interest in that sort of encounter. Nothing against it – it just doesn’t
appeal to me. I like guys.
I’m from a small family, with a traditional mother and father and one
younger brother. We moved to a town in the mid-west when I was a kid and
before my brother Daniel came along. Dad is an electrical engineer for a
small manufacturing firm, Mom is a teacher. Daniel, as a “little brother”
was (and remains) a royal pain – but I wouldn’t trade him for the world
(just don’t ever let him find out that I feel that way!).
I tell you all this about me in order to assure you that I’m about as
normal a girl as you’ll ever meet. Nothing really kinky, nothing out of
the ordinary – just a small town girl.
The events in this story took place when I was 17, or about four years
ago. I was a senior in high school, into all kinds of clubs and
activities. I played soccer and girls basketball for the varsity teams. My
experience with guys was limited, and with sex nonexistent. Sure, I had
found the joys of pleasuring myself (what girl hasn’t?) when I was about
13. That started with simply squeezing my thighs together, and then
progressed to touching my breasts (which had started to appear after my
first period) and finally finding the magic that could be unleashed by
fingering my clitoris and slipping my finger into the opening below. All
this, of course, in the privacy of my own room or in the bathroom with the
door locked against my little brother.
At first, I was curious and didn’t fully understand what was happening to
me. Running my fingers over my abdomen and down to the mons, spreading the
lips of my vagina, and slipping my finger inside while rubbing my thumb
over my clitoris packed a lot of pleasure into a dull evening! I found
that I could bring myself off just about every night, as long as I didn’t
have my period (that would have been disgusting!). As I grew older, I
compared notes with my friends (yes, guys, girls do talk about this sort
of thing – and are even more graphic then most of you think we are!). I
found that all of them did the same things – touch their breasts, squeeze
the nipples, touch themselves down there and finger themselves to orgasm.
Some of us were able to achieve several on any one night – some only once
a night. I managed to hit the right spots few times a night if I tried,
but was usually satisfied with one climax before sleep.
Something was missing, and I found it when I first starting dating (I was
about 15 when Mom and Dad allowed me to start – as I said, it was a
traditional family, with very traditional values). All through my
sophomore year, I went out on group dates – no less than several couples,
usually to movies and dances. The most action we ever got was a few sloppy
kisses and an attempted quick feel (quickly ended) before the porch light
came on and I knew it was time to get inside.
Junior year was different. I got more freedom (I was 16 by then) and had
my license. Dad gave me his old car (a very sedate SAAB) and taught me to
drive stick shift. I started taking the car to school and picking up my
friends. We would share our experiences over the weekend. Beth (my best
friend) was a lot more advanced than I was. She was engaged in a “serious
relationship” and had given her virginity to her boyfriend, Brad, over
that summer. She was on the pill and was “getting laid” (her rather
graphic description!) just about every weekend. She insisted that it was
great – but I had my doubts. Brad had a reputation for hitting on girls at
school and, in my opinion Beth was blinding herself to this.
Dating got a lot more adventurous that year. Now I was allowed to go out
alone, with older guys. I went with a few during the school year, but
nothing serious came from it – a little wet faced kisses, a little “tickle
and slap”, when they got too fresh or wanted more than I was prepared to
give. Beth finally caught on to Brad when she found him hitting on one of
our mutual friends and when one of his friends tried to get her to go out
with him. He told her that Brad was telling everyone about how he had
balled her all summer and through the year. They broke up and she was
devastated for a few weeks. She started seeing other guys after winter
break.
About March, I met Jeremy, who was a year older than I was. Our first date
was fun. Jeremy was a wrestler on the school team and played football. His
father was a County Sheriffs Deputy and Jeremy planned on following this
career after college. On our second date, we made out in the car (his
Mom’s station wagon). Nothing but kissing. I was too afraid to let him get
any further, although he did try. By our forth date, he was feeling my bra
covered breasts and I was enjoying it thoroughly! When he tried to open my
jeans, I stopped him. I didn’t want him to know how turned on I was
getting, but I’m sure he had an idea.
When I get excited, I (like most girls I know) get very wet. The fluid
that we secrete from our pussy (sure, we know the technical terms for it,
but we also know the slang – girls talk a lot dirtier than guys when
they’re with girl friends!). is both slippery and has a certain “smell”. I
know my smell (I’ve played with myself often enough to know what it’s
like) and I would get a whiff of it when we were making out in the car.
I’m sure he smelled me as well and knew just how excited I was getting.
The first time I made a conscious decision to let him go further was about
our sixth or seventh date. It was May, getting warmer each day, and I
didn’t need to bundle up anymore. I wore a skirt, knowing he would try to
get his hands under it (until this point his best shot was rubbing my
mound through my jeans and slipping his fingers between my legs). A new
experience for me and, again, one I really got off on! I would come home
so wet down there from these dates, my panties really damp. I wanted
Jeremy’s hands there, but wasn’t ready for anything else just yet.
Anyway, the evening went pretty much as planned – and we wound up parked
with me sitting crossways on his lap, one of his hand cupping my left
breast, his other hand running up and down my leg. Every few strokes sent
his hand higher and higher, pushing my skirt up a little each time. I
didn’t stop him – I really wanted to be touched down there, to feel what
it was like to have someone else do what I had been doing to myself for
the past few years. I wasn’t going to be disappointed.
His fingers slipped along my thigh, now running along the top, now sliding
to the inside. I let my legs open slightly, to give him access. His next
move was to rest his fingers lightly on my panty-covered pussy. I was
getting wet even before he made contact. His fingers lightly stroked the
slit through the thin silky material, brushing my clit with his thumb
while pressing inward between the lips. I wiggled around, opening my legs
a little more, trying to send him a signal that this was what I wanted him
to do.
His next move sort of surprised me but I figured, “What the hell – it’s
what I wanted him to do!” He slipped his fingers under the elastic of my
panties, pushing the moisture band to one side. In doing so, he caught a
few hairs. I let out an “Ouch!” and jumped slightly. He pulled his hand
back, looking at me. “Sorry! Did I hurt you?”
“No”, I replied, “just pulled a few hairs. Ummmm – where were we?” I
wanted him to continue. It felt so…..different to have someone else do
what I had always done myself.
His hand was back on my thigh, his fingers resting on my now very wet
slit. I wiggled around again, letting my legs open a little more, inviting
him to reach his goal. The band on my panties was moved aside (this time
without pulling any stray hairs!). Now he was moving his thumb around my
swollen clitoris, lightly pressing the area around the base of it, sliding
over the top. His fingers were resting on the outer lips of my vagina,
softly running around the outside of the slit between them. I was really
getting turned on! I was so wet and the feeling of his fingers, as they
gently massaged the lips and the button above them was getting to me in a
big way.
Now I felt him slip his finger into the slit, probing for the opening into
my body. My legs were opening now, seemingly of their own accord, giving
him greater access to my very wet pussy. I wanted his finger inside me,
wanted this feeling to not end. I felt my face starting to flush as he
broke our kiss. I looked down at my lap, my skirt pushed up to my waist,
the band of my panties pushed aside, his hand buried between my legs, one
finger slipping into me, his thumb alternately pushing and sliding over my
clit.
I felt myself starting to build to a climax, wanted desperately to come. I
also felt the bulge in his pants pressing against my ass. I scooted down
slightly, as he readjusted his own body. By now, I was leaning back
against the door, my head on the window. One leg was resting on the seat,
with my knee flexed upward, the other was sideways with my foot resting on
the seat. My knees were wide open, my skirt bunched around my waist. He
started to flex the finger buried in my pussy, drawing it in and out while
he still massaged my thoroughly aroused clitoris. I started thrusting
forward with my hips to meet thrusts, and opening my legs even further,
trying to get more of his invading finger inside me. He took the hint and
slide his middle finger into me, rotating it around the walls of my
cannel, my fluids wetting his palm where it rested flat against my vaginal
lips. By this point, I was moaning softly as he brought me closer and
closer to that magic moment of release.
Somehow, he had managed to get my blouse pulled out of my skirt and was
pushing my bra up and over my left breast. The bra slipped up, my breast
popped free, to be captured by his hand. He bent and took the nipple
between his teeth, gently biting down on the hard tip while squeezing the
body with his hand. I wrapped both hands around the back of his head,
thrusting my breast into his face. He released the nipple only to capture
it again with his lips, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it. All
the while, his finger continued to probe into my pussy, his thumb rolling
my clitoris around like a marble in a pool of oil. My hips were bouncing
up and down to match the rhythm of the thrust of his hand against my
vagina.
I felt my climax starting to build, the pressure like a balloon inflating
in my abdomen. By this point, the feel of his hands on my body, his finger
buried in my vagina, the attention he was giving my clit, and his sucking
at my engorged nipple had brought me to the point of no return. He had
executed the launch sequence and I was headed to outer space!
I came with a shudder, my hips bouncing against his lap, my world
concentrated to a point somewhere down below my belly. I had never come
like that – never experienced such an overwhelming climax. My moans were
stifled only because I was biting down on my lower lip. I felt a great
flush spread throughout my body as he continued to stimulate my clit and
slid his fingers in and out of my drenched pussy. My head fell back
against the window. I was completely spent.
Jeremy wanted more, but I didn’t think I could take anymore that night. I
looked down at my wide spread legs, the smell of my sex thick in the car.
I moved off of his lap, pulling my skirt down, tucking my breast back into
my bra and my blouse back in my skirt. My panties were sopping wet.
Reluctantly, he drove me home. No one was awake as I let myself in and
went upstairs. I went into my room, removed my cloths and dropped them in
the hamper. My panties reeked of sex, so I washed them quickly in the sink
of my bathroom (as the girl in the house, Dad had installed a bathroom off
my bedroom when Daniel got older so we wouldn’t fight over who got to use
the guest bath first).
I got in bed, thinking about Jeremy and what we had done. I knew this was
only a step in a progression that could only end up with my giving him my
virginity, something I wasn’t sure I was ready to do, and certainly not in
the back seat of his mother’s station wagon! I wanted my first time to be
special. Right now, I pictured us in the car, my legs wide open for him,
his fingers buried in my pussy. I felt very wanton, strangely excited, and
still aroused by the feel of him.
I rolled over on my stomach, raised my knees towards my chest, lifting my
butt in the air. I spread my legs and reached back between them, running
my fingers over my hair covered mound, lightly touching my clitoris. It
felt tender and was still very sensitive from the attention Jeremy had
administered a few hours ago. The outer lips of my vagina felt sticky from
my secretions. I could still smell the scent of my sexual arousal. I
softly stroked myself, not trying to build to a climax, but it felt so
good to lay there, my face turned to one side, one hand thrust above my
head, my breasts flat against the cool smooth sheet, while the other hand
pleasured myself. My fingers danced over my aroused clit, one slipping
into my vagina from below while continuing to slide over the hard button
of my clitoris. I was seeking the same spots Jeremy had so recently
stroked and probed. I found myself inexplicitly building towards yet
another r climax, strangely missing the hard male presence of Jeremys
hands. I turned my torso slightly, lifting one breast free of the sheet
and moved my free hand to cup it, pinching the nipple while continuing to
stroke and probe my wet pussy.
I swiftly built to a climax, feeling the familiar rush through my body, my
hips bouncing up and down to meet the movement of my hand against the open
lips of my pussy, my finger sliding in and out of my love canal. My clit
was tingling, my vagina throbbing. I bit my lower lips to stifle my moans
of pleasure. I sank down flat on the bed, lowering my hips and sliding my
sex drenched hand out from underneath me. After a few minutes, I got up,
went back into the bathroom and washed myself off, getting ready for bed.
I was exhausted. As I lay there, I tried to compare the climax I had just
induced myself to the one Jeremy had given me a few hours before. What was
different about them? The one Jeremy had given me was so much better – it
involved another person and was deeper and more meaningful.
As I lay there, drifting off to sleep, I knew I had to decide if I would
let Jeremy take my virginity and, if so, when. The school year was almost
over and I knew Jeremy was off to a summer job upstate, one that would
keep him away until September. His plans to go to school were not an issue
as he was going to a local two-year community college majoring in Criminal
Justice, so we would have plenty of time. Should I wait ‘till he came back
in September or give myself to him before he left? |
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