(The following is the true story of my relationship with Louise, who was both my first girlfriend and the first girl I ever fucked.)
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Louise was a beautiful girl with long, straight brown hair and a lovely figure, who did the same course as me at university. I had been admiring her from afar for about a year when somehow we started kissing at a party. We were standing in the hallway, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, when I slipped one hand under the sweater she was wearing and fondled a girl’s breast for the first time.
Leaving the party we went to her car, and she drove us to a spot a few streets from my house. In the back seat, we undressed and I ran my hands eagerly over her naked body. I sucked on her shapely tits and, moving down, began to lick her pussy. I’d really had no idea what a cunt would taste like, and was pleasantly surprised. The next morning, I found I could still smell Louise’s cunt on my hands, and delayed washing them as long as possible so I could continue to savour it.
A few weeks later Louise and I went out to a movie or something, and then went back to my house. We sat at the dining room table chatting (my parents had gone to bed). She was wearing an elegant, black satin cocktail dress, and looked gorgeous. We started to kiss and, against my better judgment, I led her into my bedroom, where we fucked. When she left some hours later, she went out the back door and up the side of the house. Next morning, my mother was furious and wouldn’t speak to me. She must have heard everything, and she was particularly annoyed with the way Louise had left via the back door. Soon after this, Louise’s mother went away for the weekend and I was able to spend a night over at her house. We had the big double bed in their spare and spent a magic night there, talking and fucking until the early hours.
Louise had velvety, soft olive skin – so sensitive that if you drew your fingernail along it it left a welt – and lovely, tapering breasts with large, puffy, pale brown nipples surrounded by faintly visible blue veins (something I’ve always found sexy). I was just crazy about her tits. She had a favourite, brown satin petticoat which she’d wear when we were fucking. She’d get on top of me and I’d scoop her teats out of the petticoat’s lacy bodice, one in each hand, and lick and suck them furiously as I pumped my cock into her. I’d go into the bathroom when she was having a bath and soap them up and squeeze them (we had sex in the bath quite often – I loved the unusual sensation of fucking underwater, the squeaky feel of her pussy). I’d feel her breasts though her clothing at every opportunity. (I remember in particular a cream-coloured, short-sleeved blouse of thin, rough/smooth material, probably silk, which she sometimes wore without a bra, and the specific sensation of stroking her nipples through this material until they grew hard.) At night I’d lie in bed holding her from behind, her breasts cupped in my hands. One day I rubbed moisturiser onto my cock and, placing it between her tits, fucked them until my sperm shot onto her throat. I just couldn’t get enough of those tits.
Louise’s cunt was an utter delight too. I went down on her just about every time we fucked, exploring its amber folds with my fingers and tongue, reveling in the taste and smell of it. Sometimes I’d pour honey into it and lick it out. (Louise would go down on me too, but she didn’t like the taste of sperm. She’d let me come in her mouth, but then she’d usually spit it into a tissue.) When we were fucking, I loved to look down and watch my cock sliding in and out of her cunt. Not happy with any of the contemporary words used to describe the vagina, I resurrected an old Anglo-Saxon one, ‘cunny’, which I had read in a porn magazine. Looking back on it now, we seemed to discuss Louise’s cunny a lot. It didn’t take me long to learn the art of making her come with my hand, inserting my fingers in her hole and rubbing the little bud of her clitoris as I sucked on one of her tits. Her favourite position was with her on top. The first time we fucked like this I heard the sound my thighs made as they slammed against her buttocks, and remembered a strange slapping sound I had heard from my parents’ bedroom years before, which had puzzled me for years. The mystery had been solved. Mum canlı bahis had been on top! Soon after I started going out with Louise, we went on holiday with a group of fellow students, all girls apart from a friend of mine from school. Louise’s closest uni friend was there too, a red-haired, red-faced, heavily freckled girl named Melissa.
Louise had bought a new bikini with a design of pineapples on it especially for the holiday, and I was surprised when, on our arrival at the beach on the first day, she immediately removed the top of it (topless bathing on public beaches was still quite rare at this time). This gave me quite a queer feeling. I was, at this point, extremely possessive of Louise, and I didn’t like the idea that my friend could look at her tits – my tits. But I was at the same time rather excited by seeing her half-naked in public. I remember later on, in the afternoon, lying on my side about a foot from her, and she lying on her side facing me, and thinking how weird it was that there were people walking around us, and yet I could easily reach out and touch her bare breasts, which hung only inches from my face, or even reach down and slip my fingers into her bikini bottom and touch her pussy, and probably no-one would have even noticed.
Louise teased Melissa on that first day for being too shy to remove her own bikini top. Later in the holiday she did build up the courage to bare her plump, pink-nippled tits, and her shyness made looking at them all the more pleasurable for me.
In addition to Louise and her friend, there were another four girls in our group, and by the end of the holiday I had seen the tits of all of them. I had found myself in a happy situation where I could speculate what a girl’s breasts looked like, then have my curiosity satisfied. I was in heaven! I was fascinated by how different their breasts were, and how they almost seemed to match their personalities.
Liz was a slim, lively, good-humoured girl with long, straight brown hair and a pretty face, who was the least self-conscious about being topless. I remember her happily sitting next to me on the sand, chatting away as I enjoyed the sight of her perky, brown-nippled little breasts. (A story about Liz, told to me by Louise, has stuck in my head. Some time after we returned from our holiday, Louise was sitting in the university canteen when Liz came along and sat up on the table next to her, her legs apart. She was wearing a short skirt and as she chattered away Louise found herself looking right at Liz’s crotch. She was wearing, Louise told me, a pair of extremely ragged panties, through which her vagina could be clearly seen. Louise had, as far as I could tell, no lesbian tendencies, and related this incident to me as simply curious behaviour on Liz’s part, but I found the idea of her looking at another girl’s cunt extremely exciting.)
Fiona was the radical amongst us, into student politics and fucking activists from third world countries. She was a pretty girl with a pug nose and straight blonde hair parted down the middle, who would not have looked out of place in a 1970s Swedish porno flick. I only saw her tits once, as she lay on her back sunbathing. They were perfectly round with compact little pink nipples – no-nonsense tits.
Karen was a reasonably pretty, sexy-mouthed girl with long, unruly, curly blonde hair, shy and with a reputation for eccentricity. She began the holiday a pasty white and, at the end of it, hardly seemed to have tanned at all. Her body carried some excess fat, so that she looked a little shapeless, her stomach flabby, a look which was accentuated by the crocheted bikini she wore. Because she was so shy, I had not expected to see her tits, and it was only on our last day that I saw her on the beach with her top off. Her breasts, I saw, were a little bit saggy, with brilliant pink, conical nipples.
Finally there was Lisa, a skinny, sallow-faced girl with mousy brown hair she kept tied back in a pony-tail. Her body was scrawny, her arms thin and her shoulders a little bowed. Her tits were small, insignificant, brown- nippled things, but with a certain charm.
On the second or third day of the holiday, Louise became badly sunburnt. With the exception of the two white triangles on her crotch and backside left by her bikini bottom, her bahis siteleri body was an angry red colour. Her sunburnt breasts looked particularly amazing, with no apparent difference between the colour of her nipples and the surrounding flesh.
I was initially displeased when this happened, because I thought it would preclude us from having sex, and I still wanted to have sex with her all the time. I shouldn’t have worried. That evening, we left the others sitting in the lounge room of the house we had rented, and went into our bedroom. Louse took off her dress and asked me to rub some moisturiser on her sore body. I began to rub the cool lotion onto her shoulders and back, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. Then she knelt on the bed, leaning against the bedhead so that I could rub some cream onto her bottom. She seemed to be particularly sore where the burnt skin met the unburnt triangle, and as I gently rubbed around it her buttocks were parted and my face was inches away from her anus. I couldn’t believe I had found myself in a situation where staring at a girl’s arsehole like this was such a natural thing.
Afterwards, Louise lay on her back on the bed and I gently fucked her, being careful not to hurt her hot and tender body too much. When I first left home and moved in with Louise, I left my collection of porn behind. I fully expected never to have to masturbate again. Why should I need to, when I had the real thing on tap? Louise loved sex and we were fucking constantly for the first few months. She was the only girl I have met who was willing, even eager, to fuck when she was menstruating. I can remember feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of menstruation (as I suppose is fairly common) when I first started going out with her, but I soon came to positively enjoy fucking her while she was having her period – the sight of my cock covered in thick, dark-red menstrual blood pumping into her bloody brown-haired pussy; the peculiar, slightly cloying smell of it and the dark, sticky stains left on our thighs and genitals after we had finished. I mention this as an example of a fetish which was, as it were, nipped in the bud. Had I conceived of fucking a menstruating woman without knowing Louise, the desire would quite possibly have gone unsatisfied and become an obsession, most women I have encountered being unwilling to fuck during their period, though they will admit to being particularly randy during it. (As it is, I only remembered this facet of my sex life with Louise as I was writing this.)
One day Louise came home from work with a vibrator she had acquired in a roundabout way. It was pink and took the form of an turbanned oriental figure, with another, smaller figure sitting in front of him – an extension designed to massage the clitoris. When you turned it on, it vibrated and writhed slowly around. I thought it was one of the most ridiculous things I had ever seen but one night, while we were fucking, I brought it out of the wardrobe and stuck it in her cunt and found I enjoyed fucking her with it, and she enjoyed it too.
One day, I found the vibrator under our bed. Picking it up, I noticed that it was coated with some dried stuff which was flaking off. Suddenly I realised what had happened. It was dried pussy juice, left on there after Louise had used it to masturbate. The knowledge that Louise also masturbated secretly absolutely thrilled me. I imagined her lying alone in our bed, pushing the vibrator in and out of her cunt, her back arching until she had made herself come. Despite all the brilliant sex I was having, I gradually found my mind again turning to pornographic images. Sex with Louise was great as far as it went, but I began to realise how straightforward her sexual tastes were. She had little desire to experiment.
The catalyst of my frustration was a growing fetish for women’s arses, which had been triggered a short time before by a particular issue of ‘Penthouse’. While they’re common in men’s magazines – and of course the internet – today, in those days photos with women showing their arseholes were still quite unusual. This particular pictorial of a blonde woman (of American Indian extraction, I seem to remember), featured several large, exquisitely clear close-ups of her arse, cheeks spread to show off her beautiful, puckered anus, bahis şirketleri looking like a lump of pink chewing gum. For a while, whether a girl’s anus was visible or not became my criterion for a good porno picture.
I took to parting Louise’s buttocks and looking at her anus whenever I fucked her from behind. I’d grab hold of her buttocks, one in each hand, and as I watched my cock sliding in and out of her, I’d push my hands together so my thumbs were pressing into her arsehole.
Without actually coming out and asking her about it, I knew that having anal sex with her was an impossibility. I had read in a porn magazine years before that a favourite technique among the French was for the man to insert a finger into his lover’s anus at the point of orgasm. I tried this a couple of times with Louise, but was left in no doubt that she didn’t like it. When I was going down on her, I would lick as far up towards her anus as I dared, but I felt she was uncomfortable with me doing this too, and it was only on rare occasions that I let myself go. The best time was early one morning, before I went to work. I had manouevred myself so I was licking her pussy from behind when, giving up all pretense, I buried my face between her buttocks and gave her arsehole a thorough licking. I went to work with the taste of her bum in my mouth, a happy man.
Faced with the inability to fuck Louise’s arse, I began to perform a regular, secret ritual. Like most students (or at least the ones we hung with) Louise and I drank quite heavily. Often we would fall into bed drunk. I would wait until the sound of her breathing told me she was asleep, then move her, if necessary, so she was on her front or her side. I would lift up her nightie, or pull down her pajama pants if she was wearing a pair of mine, and examine her backside. The skin between her buttocks was darker than the rest of her body, with the wrinkled surround of her anal opening being grey and shiny.
Parting her buttocks with my hands, I would press my face between them, sniffing and licking her arsehole, pushing my tongue as deeply into it as I could. I would spit on her anus and insert my finger into it. Sometimes I would rub spit onto my cock and try to insert that too, but Louise’s arsehole was very tight and this always woke her up. Usually I would end by coming on her arse and rubbing my semen into her hole. Sometimes, when inspecting her arse, I would find little flecks of shit on it. I would put these on my tongue and try to get the taste of them.
I make it a practice to take pornographic photos of my girlfriends. I only ever managed to get Louise to willingly pose for one, which showed her lying on our bed wearing only a white camisole, open, her breasts and pubic triangle exposed. She had a sort of amused/slightly embarrassed smile on her face, and it was a cute photo. Unfortunately she managed to take it with her when we broke up. I have another photo, however, taken during one of my arse-worshipping sessions, which she has no idea I took. Louise’s shapely backside occupies the centre of the frame. She’s lying face down, a blue sheet (or perhaps they’re pajamas) covering her above the waist. My left hand is on her left buttock, spreading it, and my stiff cock is pointing at a 45 degree angle from the bottom right hand corner of the picture. You can clearly make out the split of her cunt, surrounded by brown hair, but the photo has faded somewhat, as Polaroids do, and her anus is indistinct. It is nevertheless a beautiful photograph, and I still take it out and masturbate to it when I’m thinking of Louise. (Email me if you would like to see it).
After a while, Louise and I drifted apart, and we both started having affairs. One night, as we lay in bed after a night of drinking, I pushed my cock into her as she lay asleep and fucked her until I came inside her – she never woke up. The next morning I got a call from the girl I had been having an affair with. That was the beginning of the end for me and Louise.
We did have one last fuck however. After we split up we still saw each other socially, and we continued to be attracted to each other. One night we were at a party when she lured me back to her new house. We fucked in her bedroom with her on top, her blouse still on, hanging open, her beautiful tits cupped in my hands for the last time. I remember how strange it was to fuck her in this new bedroom, filled with many objects familiar to me from when we lived together. When I got home the next morning, my new girlfriend wasn’t impressed.