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My first time
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
First Time
By MBK
Everyone has a first time, many are hurried affairs in the back
of a steamy car or in a bedroom under constant and excitement
fear of discovery. Many come at the hands of someone your own
age, the fumbling and shyness and embarrassment being part of the
thrill of the moment. But sometimes that first time comes at the
hands of one much older than yourself, and what would have been a
brief journey with a girl, becomes a wonderful adventure with a
woman. It happened to me that way, with a neighbor. This story
is for Eager Beaver or anyone else to read and perhaps remember a
time when ignorance was bliss and every touch pushed the envelope
of experience to the edge and beyond.
Mrs. Jenkins, Doris, was the wife of a large and gruff
man, John. John was a concrete man and never really had two
words to say to anyone including Doris. They lived next door to
us in a rather unremarkable house that was all but paved over in
beautiful concrete work. This was suberbia and it was 1969.
Ours was like many of the endless housing tracts in Southern
California, small low houses built right on top of one another.
I had a bedroom on the sideyard of the house with a window that
looked across a small stretch of ground, over a fence and into
the bathroom window of the Jenkins house. On most mornings I
could be awakened to the sound of John running the shower and
making the noises one makes while getting ready for work. I
usually turned over and tried to get a little more sleep. I had
always dreamed, you know the kinds of dreams that give young men
hard-ons in history class, about seeing Doris one day through the
bathroom window. The trouble was that the bottom of their window
was high, and the top of mine too low. So while I could hear her
splashing about in the shower, seeing her was only in the line of
sight of my imagination.
Perhaps it was luck, perhaps destiny, I'm not sure that I
pondered it as I was pulled into the attic of our house through
the hatchway in my closet. I always hated going into the small
cramped roof area. I suppose my father thought it would be fun
for me to go with him into that hot, dusty place. It always
smelled the way a car smells when following a bus down a dirt
road. Kind of oily and dusty. The kind of smell that lingers on
you long after you've come back down into the world of cool and
light. It was during one of these expeditions that I discovered,
what was to me, a window on my dreams. The side of the house
that has no eaves, the hip side, was where my bedroom was.
Unnoticed by me, there was, right above my head, a vent! As my
father dissapeared into the mist and dust toward some unknown
destination, I moved over to the vent to try and grab a few
breathes of fresh air from the outside. As I pressed my nose
against the wire mesh that covered the louvres, I became aware
the I could see into the side yard. Not only into the side yard,
but the Jenkins side yards as well. My eyes rose abit and there
in all its glory, through the window on the wall stood the
Jenkins toilet! Complete with yellow rugs and matching toilet
paper. And right across from it just beyond the towel rack, I
could see the shower. My imagination went wild, I knew instantly
that this was the stuff of permanent erections and I began to
plot. I was shaken awake by my father asking for some tool or
another probably to be used in a way that it was never intended.
My father was the kind that used a screwdriver to stir paint or a
pipe wrench as a hammer. I scooted off toward his bellowing and
more dust, but I was smiling, I had found my crystal ball.
That evening I could hardly sleep. I moved some
boxes under the hatch so that I might gain access. I couldn't
risk using the ladder. I had my dust clothes ready and a roll of
toilet paper was there too. I wanted to be prepared. I suppose
I fell asleep, but I was awake like a shot the instant the alarm
that I had set went off. I lay in bed, heart pounding like a
freight train, listening for the first splash of the shower next
door. Just like clockwork, at 5am John came into the bathroom.
My plan had been to wait until he was mostly done before I went
into the roof. Even through all my excitement, the thought of
the dust made me shiver. At last I heard him finishing up and I
went into action. Up the boxes, move the hatch aside, pull
myself into the attic. Smooth cat-like motions, I was a 15 year
old version of the Spiderman, Batman, and Daredevil all rolled
into one. As I made my way to the vent, I heard her enter the
bathroom and clothes the door. I arrived at my perch just as she
was looking into the mirror. She was wearing a somewhat faded
flannel nightgown that went to the floor. She must have been
about 42 or 43 three at the time, but to me she was Sophia Loren
in the prime of life. She bent over to turn on the shower and
all of a sudden she was pulling the nightgown over her head! She
was there live, and nude in front of me, I had never seen a woman
like this before. She had smooth white skin, her breasts hung
down as she bent over the sink to brush her teeth, her round ass
protruding out behind her. As she waited for the shower to warm,
she sat on the closed toilet seat and began to clip her toenails.
I nearly passed out as her legs spread and revealed a wonderful
view of (my first) cunt! At this point I realized that I had not
breathed in quite awhile and was getting light headed. I was a
little confused, In the nudist magazines that I had sneaked a
peek at in my uncle's house, the women always had great bushes of
pubic hair sprouting from their pussys. But Doris had none. It
took me a few minutes in my hormone overloaded state that she
must shave herself. Sure enough, just before she entered the
shower, she reached over to the sink and grabbed a razor. It was
obvious to me that I had died and gone to heaven, no proof
required.
this scene repeated itself for the next few months. And
although it was exciting, I began to long for more. I knew that
their bedroom window faced a group of trees in their backyard and
that you could climb them. Because of the privacy the trees
afforded, Doris usually opened the curtains to the bedroom in the
morning. I had seen her do this several times on saturday
morning as I cut the back lawn. What I didn't know was how early
she opened them during the week. I was soon to find out. Rising
before dawn, I positioned myself at the fence line, careful not
to wake the Cornet's dog that lived behind us, and waited for
some action. As I heard John pull out of the drive, and the sun
began to rise, I saw the shades part and Doris's face appear in
the window. I was frozen in place, luckily the sun came right
into their room and must have blinded her to the sight of a cold
but excited boy looking directly at her. The next morning I made
my move.
Why is it that when your trying to be quiet, every sound
is like a gunshot in a tunnel? I made my noisy way over the
fence and hid in the bushes just below the window. The sound of
a car, the swoosh of the curtains, I was ready and my heart just
about jumped out and onto the ground. I rose up and peeked
around the edge of the opened curtains. I could see the whole
room save the door and part of the wall to my left. I had a full
view of the bed, the closet and the dresser. A blur caught my
left eye, she was coming in after her shower! It was her, in all
her glory, and much bigger than from the vent! As she dried
herself she started rummaging through the drawers of her dresser
for something. What she pulled out about made my knees buckle,
it was about a 10" dildo. (I knew what is was because I had seen
ads for them in the skin magazines my friend James had hidden
under his house.) I vowed right then and there that if I could
watch for just a little longer I would join the priesthood and do
nothing but chant and eat rice for the rest of my life. She
moved to the bed, lay down and began to caress her breasts with
the vibrating rod. Her hand moved to her cunt as her chest rose
and fell with heavy breathing. She moved the thing over her
nipples until they were hard and swollen. Her hand was moving
faster as it dug between the lips of her pussy. As the dildo
moved down her body, over her stomach , and across her thighs, I
puled of my pants the biggest hard on the western world had ever
seen. I began to pump my cock as I watched, hypnotized by what I
was seeing. I had no fear of getting caught, I was all eyes and
cock. With a quick motion she plunged the dildo into her cunt
and I squirted a gallon of cum all over an innocent bush. When I
had recovered a bit I saw that she was riding the dildo with as
much passion as I had ever seen in a woman. Even those grainy,
fuzzy nasty movies weren't as good as this. She continued until
her entire body was racked with spasm and she lay very still. I
am still not sure waht happened next. I must have not bent over
quite far enough to pull up my pants, the top of my head must
have been showing above the sill of the window. Anyway, when I
rose to leave, I heard "Did you like what you saw?". It was
Doris, standing in the window looking out at me.
I felt as though every organ in my body had tuto
stone and that I would never move again. I heard myself say yes,
and I heard her say for me to come around again the next morning.
Somehow I started to move toward the fence, but was told to use
the gate. At that point I wasn't sure I could remember what a
gate was let alone find it. But somehow I made it home. When I
finally got back into my bed after what felt like years later, I
knew I was going to have to hide another hard-on from Mrs. Quinn
with my copy of World History, Volume one.
Needless to say I got no sleep the that night. I wginning to think that sex and sleep were somehow incompatible
and that is the reason why Jim Hamilton and Roxy Barnes always
looked so tired at school, they were seniors, you know. I was up
long before the sun and ready. I had gone so far as to bring a
pan of water into my room so I could wash up without making any
noise. When at last I heard John's car pull out, I quickly went
out the back door into the Jenkins back yard and stood before the
gates of Heaven, which also doubled as their back door. After a
gentle knock and what seemed like several hours, Doris answered
the door and I was ushered in. She was wearing a silk house coat
and it was tight enough around her so that I could see she had
nothing underneath. She had me sit down at the kitchen tableand
we began to talk. Talk! Gad I wanted sex! I reminded myself
that these things take time and being the cool, suave, man about
town that I was, I fumbled with the chair, stubbed my toe and
generally plopped into the seat. She asked me how many times I
had seen her. I was very red-faced as I blurted out the whole
story of the vent and the window and how beautiful she was and
how I felt like diing. With that she came over to me, opened her
robe and pulled my mouth against her breast. She told me to
suck, but not hard and to lick all around the little button. I
couldn't believe the great feelings that were stirring in my
body. It was like every nerve was alive! The transition to the
bedroom and the removal of my clothes is somewhat foggy to this
day. However it came about, we were now in her bed and she had
her mouth firmly around my cock. She worked and stroked and
licked my throbbing rod until I was sure that I felt my brains
starting to leak from my skull. By the time she made me cum, I
was sure of it. She continued to suck me after I had cum, and to
my amazement, a few minutes later I had another hard-on. When
she was satisfied with the job she had done, she moved up the bed
and told me she was going to teach me how to serve a woman. It
started with her neck and how to kiss it. Moving to her ears and
how to nibble them. Her breathing was getting faster and I
wanted to grab my cock in the worst way. I moved down her chest
with clumsy kisses, she put my hands to her breasts and taught me
by touch how to fondle them. I kissed and sucked her nipples and
she moved my hands to her cunt. It felt so smooth and wet, and
at first I pawed at her. She guided me with her hands how to
touch lightly and where her clit was. Several minutes of this
had me on the verge of cumming. I must have looked like a man
who has found water in the desert, she stopped us and settled me
down. When we started up again she gently pushed my head down
her stomach, between her legs. I lapped like a hungry dog, and
through gentle nudges she positioned my eager tongue to her hot
spot. She started to move her hips and buck against my mouth, I
got a little afraid and started to back off. She pulled me back
and I must have sensed that this was the way things are supposed
to happen. With renewed vigor I plunged into her pussy and
licked for all I was worth. By the time she came in a glorious
upheaval, I had three fingers buried deep in her cunt and a face
full of love juice. Doris then pulled me up by my shoulders
until I lay upon her, my cock rubbing against the outside of her
cunt. I was lost in bliss and she guided my cock into her warm
pussy and told me to move slowly with her. I wanted to pump like
crazy, but her firm but gentle touch, slowed me and let us build
together. Soon she was moaning, I was moaning, the bedsprings
were moaning, the whole world as moaning as far as I
knew......... and the fireworks came. I exploded into her as she
moved and bucked against me. We were bouncing so hard we nearly
flew off onto the floor...........for awhile I lay against her
and listened to her soft breath as she slept. Though it felt
like days, I had only been there about an hour when I left. We
repeated our dance quite a few times in the next few weeks and I
learned lessons that have helped me respect and love and satisfy
the women I have met in my life. Doris and I continued off and
on for the next 4 years until I went away to college. I wrote to
her and saw her occasionally on my visits home. In most stories
this is were the relationship would end, but not this time. I am
now thirty five and Doris is 63. John died about 8 years ago and
when I heard I gave her a call to offer my sympathy. We started
up again about a year later and for the last seven years I have
been lucky enough to be in her bed whenever the urge takes us.
Sometimes the first is the best, and sometimes you get lucky
enough to have every time fell like the first time
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