First sex at University

Sorry for this week’s moaning. How about a warm, lovely memory instead?

My university years saw my transformation from closed adolescent to sexually confident young man, and I vividly recall the first expression of that.It was December and I’d been there about 3 months, finding my feet. I went with a friend to the students union to drink and look at women. Towards the end of the night we moved into the dance area; a very cool emptied swimming pool. We got talking to a couple of women. I remember they expressed some objectionable views about the university men, but then I gor spikey women and this probably drew me in.

We paired off, though my friend has always insisted that I abandoned him with a random rude women, while I looked after the attractive one…One on one, we talked as 18 year olds: Salinger, Trainspotting, Oasis and Blur. During this jousting I established that this was a person I wanted to sleep with. She had sparkling eyes, a beautiful Roman nose and an enticing, Rubenesque figure. The clothes she wore, trousers and a loose blouse, suggested she was less confident of her sexy body than I.To this point I had only slept with two people: A slim man and a slim woman. I had yet to experience the intense pleasure of a fuller figure. Yet to feel the weight, as well as the softness of a womans breasts.

We were enjoying each other, bathing in each others smiles, moving closer, but I made no move. I was still a bit shy. Thankfully she wasn’t! Mid-conversation, I may even have been speaking, she inched forward and pressed her lips to mine. This, the first kiss, taught me something new: It turns me on to kiss while standing up, holding my entire body against a woman. I love it when my leg, hips, stomach, chest and lips all touch hers.

If I said you have a nice body, would you hold it against me?

We could both feel my erection, so when I suggested we go back to my place and she agreed, I knew this would be a good night. All’s fair in sex and war, so I abandoned my friend (he still mentions this sometimes, I’m not forgiven) and walked back to my high-rise student heaven.In my room, she suggested I do something strange but erotic: “take all your clothes off straight away”. Sex was implied but nudity would normally comes in increments. I did as she said and was soon naked. She was fully clothed, on her knees, on the edge of my bed. She beckoned my forward. As I walked, my rigid penis bounced slightly and I could see that her eyes never left it. She was about to perform a trick I’d never before seen, and have never experienced with anyone else since.I stood by the bed with my penis near her mouth. She placed her lips so close to my glans that I could feel her breath, then moved her face around the side, as if to savour my length from the closest of quarters. Still she hadn’t touch me. I would later learn that this intensely erotic teasing was her favourite game, but for now this was all new and I quivered with excitement.She placed her lips back in front of my penis and waited. I could have moved forward, touched her face with it, but by now I knew the game. Without touching me, she opened her mouth wide and moved it over the end of my penis. It only touched her tongue and she didn’t close her mouth around it. She moved back and forth with this action a few times. I could feel the warmth of her mouth but this wasn’t a blow job, it was advanced teasing.When it felt like this minimalist approach might be enough to make me come, she pulled back and adjusted her position: raising her head and changing the angle. For the first time, she firmly grasped my penis (don’t come, don’t come, don’t come, remember I was 18), held it at the base and placed the first 2 inches or so in her mouth, this time firmly closing her lips and allowing me the full warm, wet pleasure. Next, her ultra-arousing party trick. I felt the tip against her throat, my limit, but not hers. With firm pressure, she pressed her whole head forward, and after a little resistance, and with a stifled gulping sound my entire length was down her throat. Her lips were against my pubic bone, and with little movement possible (after all, her head was impaled on my penis) she began a sort of gentle vibrating hum. My god, this was a turn on. I felt my orgasm approach and wondered if I should withdraw. My body took over though and I came in gentle convulsions, with restricted movement. She swallowed without swallowing.

Later that evening there would be advanced filthiness and squirming, and I dated this rather lovely woman for over a year, but it’s this surprising opening to our sexual history which I always remember.

Gutted

I hadn’t realised how exposed I was. I’m absolutely gutted about being rejected in a relationship which was 3 dates old. Art Girl is intelligent, interesting, sexy and gorgeous, and despite spending Tuesday night in my bed, won’t be coming back.

Strangely, considering my recent bout of casual sex with ladies I’ve hardly met, I’m really not cut-out for casual sex at all. An emblematic realisation: Art girl is some sort of blow-job genius. She gave me the best blow-job I’ve had, with firm, loose movements, enthusiasm, both-hands, deep, wet. Really, the best. The shy girl disappears, replaced by an insatiable giver of pleasure. When I have a memorable sexual experience, and her blow-jobs were certainly that, it often fuels my wanking fantasies for weeks afterwards - I bask in the hornyness of it. Because she’s rejected me, because it won’t happen again, it brings me no pleasure – I can barely bring myself to even think about it.