Chapter 2: First Taste

(Don't forget to read Chaper 1)

During my college days I was a very studious girl, excelling in all of my classes, and making the dean’s list every semester for four years after exiting High School a year earlier than my peers. Being the product of Midwestern WASP parents meant that a good work ethic and sense of right and wrong had been instilled in me at a very early age, and of course continues to this day. “If you start a job, finish the job and do it right the first time” my father said, and frankly I’ve always found it to be true. I mean, if you decide to do something – anything quite frankly – then you’ve made a contract with your inner self and the outside world that you accept the challenge put forward, and if that’s the case, then why would you not want to put your best effort out in order to achieve the desired goal?

Such was the case with sucking cock I guess.

I’ll never forget my first boyfriend’s, they first guy I ever kissed; his name was David Slone and he lived down the street from me when we lived in Indianapolis.

What is it about the first kiss or the first boyfriend that you never forget? Is it the feeling down deep inside, those hormones raging ceaselessly coursing through your bloodstream, or is it the first excited tingle “down there” that you felt but weren’t supposed to talk about (oh no, MidWASP’s almost NEVER talk about sex except after they’re married, and then only to their partner in darkened rooms and in hushed, frightened whispers)

For me, it was David's eyes.

No, it wasn’t the color (hazel), but something behind them that I could never quantify, some deep quality lurking beneath the surface ready to burst forward like an unexpected volcano explosion. Not violent, but creative in a way.

Ah, I miss David and have always wondered what happened to him.

It was David that introduced me to kissing when we were 14, and three years later to what a hard boy-man felt like. Me, I was scared and quivering at the time, but excited as well as I’d seen pictures of a man’s penis in health class, but never one standing straight up at attention and in full glory before, and being the raging hormone laden young person that I mentioned before, was curiously excited to touch this throbbing part of my boyfriend’s body. And I DO mean throbbing!

Oh God, I remember it to this day.

David and I  snuck into the baseball dugout at school to eat lunch alone when I noticed him for real. He stopped in mid sandwich chew and after noticing me looking at HIM began staring at the well-beyond budding breasts beneath my blouse. 

Something surged through me like fire.

As soon as I had noticed David's gaze and almost unbeknown to me, my nipples popped up as the rush settled through me and I actually felt David's eyes begin to bore holes though my blouse and cotton bra at them.

It was about that time that I noticed the tent that had arisen in his pants, down in his crotch. “Oh my!” I thought. “What’s that?”

David looked at me and I looked in those beautiful eyes and I could see in his eyes that he wanted to touch my breasts, so I made the fateful decision that this was THE day he would get past brushing by them every so innocently to actually seeing and touching them.

I do so love the look and feel of a throbbing cock in my mouth, no matter for how long. So sue me.

Not averting my gaze from him, I began to unbutton my blouse and show him my Pride and Joys. My P&J’s had come in a couple of years earlier, slowly at first then over the summer of my 12th birthday, bursting forth much to my mother’s chagrin. She kept me in clothing that hid them, telling me that it wasn’t “polite” to show them off, and NEVER to boys.

 Oh, we had “The Talk” in a round about way I guess, strictly the facts, but never anything about the feelings or the act. Abstinence only: and this was the early 70’s! LOL! Talk about abstinence, I almost never saw my parents holding hands, and only on the rare birthday or celebration did I observe them even kissing, but then only a quick peck on the lips. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever fantasize about them in the act of making love, nor did I want to after “The Talk”.

Removing my blouse slowly, I thought that I saw a quiver on David's lip as he reached out tentatively towards by breast. Hesitating a moment, he then grabbed my P&J’s a bit too hard, but quickly finding a happy medium, began to squeeze and caress them.

I know now his hesitation was justified given the size and quality of my P&J’s (I do so love them myself as they are still firm, full and hard), but he sallied on, sliding his hand under the cup of my left breast, hesitating ever so slightly at the feel of my bulging nipple. I knew immediately by his touch that this was the first time that he had felt an actual erect nipple, the touch that of an inexperienced lover. For myself, I had enjoyed making my nipples hard from, shit, almost the first moment I can remember. The feeling of the blood coursing through my veins towards by areolas buried deep in my brain from youth, but now, so much different that someone else was manipulating them.

Again, I noticed the bulge in his pants, but now, some animalistic instinct had come over me and I found myself reaching out to touch his crotch, probably too hard at first similar, to how he had grabbed me but them finding an easy medium as if I had been born to it.

Quickly unzipping his pants to reveal his white briefs, I could see his penis straining at the bit as it were, to be revealed in all of its glory. Stroking it softly but firmly, I could also sense the throbbing lying between scant millimeters of fabric and with almost unconscious knowing, released his shaft from its confines.

Oh glory, the first time I ever saw a hard cock! I don’t know to this day what came over me, but without hesitating, bent over and placed my mouth around his bulge, automatically moving up and down with it in my mouth as my tongue caressed the hard vein-y shaft.

It was much to my surprise that something hot and slightly salty went shooting into my mouth.

Quickly pulling my face away from his cock and spitting I exclaimed, “Oh my God, did you just pee in my mouth?”

It was about then that I noticed David shuddering with immense spasms, his head slight cocked back at a weird angle, twitching as if he was having a seizure, but with this blissful look on his face.

Momentarily he regained his composure, looking at me with those beautiful eyes, and said “Uh, , uh, no. I think I did what they call cumming. Oh my God, it felt so good!”

Mmmm. I’ll never forget the first taste of cum – David’s cum ¬– so sweet yet salty, so smooth, like pudding – yes, Man Pudding – as it slipped down my throat. I was hooked, and I’ve never looked back.

Sure, there were lots of other boyfriends and lovers throughout my future school days, and yeah, maybe I did have some kind of reputation as a girl who gulped a good gob, but I was choosy and it quickly got around that I wouldn’t slurp just any old schlong; I may be easy, but I’m not sleazy.

As to the two of us, David looked down at me all embarrassed and stumbled out an apology quickly as he fumbled to recover his pants. I’ve never understood men who don’t like to bask in the afterglow as I call it, reveling in the feeling of bliss that accompanies the perfection of orgasm. Mostly it reminds me of seeing the sex films in biology class where one monkey comes up behind a female, mounts here, shoves it in a couple of times, then BAM!, he’s gone onto another butt scratching exercise with his buddies while the female just hunches there looking stoned. I know that we’re supposed to be evolved beyond the animalistic instincts of our poor cousins, but I mean really!

Anywho, I do so love the look and feel of a throbbing cock in my mouth, no matter for how long. So sue me.