[rimmer1020]

As I mentioned, these stories are in her own words, written for me. I didn't edit anything, so any grammar/spelling errors are left in. More submissions may be in store. Hope you enjoy.

I think the night started out with a dinner and movie or something similar. Could have been hanging out at his house playing pool, or maybe we were at a football game. I’m not really sure what we had done that evening. I only know that Michael was giving me a ride home and pulled into my driveway at about 1100.

Saying out goodbyes usually did take a little while with us. Typical teenage making out, groping, feeling up took time in the front of pick up truck. This night things got pretty steamy rather quickly. I was sitting in the middle of the bench seat facing him, my back leaning against the steering wheel. I was practically in his lap, my left hand rested comfortably between us, right on his crotch. As we made out; kissing, sucking, nibbling, panting, I felt his cock growing harder. This aroused me more than normal this night, though I don’t know why. I had no particular plan to go any further with out goodbye than I normally did. I let him cop a feel up my shirt, if I was in shorts or a skirt he might get to rub a little through my panties, but that was as close as the contact got sitting in my driveway. This night I happened to be in one of my favorite jean skirt outfits. The skirt was a flowing skirt that allowed ready access to my private areas.

As the make out session became more intense his hand naturally traveled from my hips to my outer thigh, from my outer thigh to my inner thigh, from my inner thigh up higher and higher until his fingers traced the line of my panties. He found that they were satiny that night and smiled at that. He enjoyed the cool smooth feeling. For some reason that night we were both more aroused and more daring. Just as the thought traveled through my mind that I might play with the actual member, his fingers went from tracing the panty line to sliding inside them. They continued by tracing the outline of my pussy, caressing my lips slowly.

His breath grew more rapid and even hotter against my neck and in my mouth. His tongue felt moist and hungry tangling with my own. My own arousal at his touch had the final effect of making my mind up and I unzipped his pants and reached inside. I found his cock to be much harder than I had expected it to be. Being that I had never felt it before, outside of his pants that is, I found it to be much larger as well. The size of his cock served to arouse me further and by forces unknown to me I was magnetically drawn down towards it. I kissed his well muscled chest on the way down, and covered his six pack with my lips and tongue as well. I glanced at his face as best I could in the darkness and saw a look of serenity, his eyes closed and a small smile on his lips. His left hand sat almost awkwardly on his leg as his right hand continued its exploration beneath my satin panties. I was having a little trouble lowering myself comfortably due to the steering wheel; he felt my pause, noticed the problem and raised the wheel quickly. I felt his body tense when he did it, perhaps hoping that having to touch anything or pay attention to any detail may break the spell and stop the action. It didn’t. I smiled up at him and nodded my approval. On the second nod I slid back just about an inch and my mouth seemed to almost fall around the head of his cock. I closed my lips over the mushroom shaped head and sucked gently. Suddenly a feeling of insecurity swept over me. What was I doing, how did I do it, was it right? The feeling was close to panic until I felt his hips swivel and heard the moan escaped him. I also felt his hand clench a little bit, his fingers had found their way to the inner lip area of my pussy and I noticed at that moment that my hips were swiveling as well. My pussy ached in a way I had never felt before…with all of the fondling I’d ever done, I had never encountered a feeling such as this. I knew, by instinct it seemed, that I wanted his fingers to venture further. I kept my lips around his cock for the same reason he tensed when he had to raise the steering wheel, I didn’t want to break the spell. I traced the rather predominant ridge of his obviously circumcised cock with my tongue and reached between my own legs. Interlocking my fingers with his, I guided them where I so badly wanted them to go, inside my extremely moist pussy. The dampness I felt between my pussy lips had the same effect on me as the rigidity of his cock, I was quite surprised. I had not expected to be so aroused, was it his rubbing or the dick in my mouth that had done it? I didn’t know, but I thought it was probably a combination of both. I left his fingers to explore my inner regions alone and moved my own to stroke his cock. It was then that I first learned a “sexed” pussy smelled different than a day to day pussy. Not that I was actually having sex, but the smell was distinctly different. At that time it was just a guess, but after future fondling and such sexual encounters the hypothesis was proved true. A pussy that is aroused and being played with smells different, muskier, than a pussy that is not. I liked the smell of my own pussy for the first time ever. I would later learn, too, that after having actual sex, the smell was equally as pleasant (most of the time). Michael was, surprisingly, very good with his hand in this capacity. I knew for fact that this was his first time in an encounter of this type as well. I later learned that I had been lucky with him, not all men can finger a girl as well as Michael.

During the entire time I was thinking of the smell of my pussy and the fact that I was very much enjoying what Michael was doing, I was also taking great care in the care that I was giving his cock. I was stroking around the base where my mouth would not reach and I remembered what I had read long ago in an article on how to french kiss. The words in my head from this article where “the tongue is the most important part”. It occurred to me, perhaps because each time my tongue made a circle around his cock his ass lifted off the seat and his breathe was either sucked in or blown out harder than normal, that he enjoyed my tongue playing an important part in my first blow job. I’m not sure how long this went on. His thumb and pointer finger; simultaneously tracing my inner labia and tickling the inner walls of my vagina, where inflicting a great deal of pleasure on my defenseless self; and, his middle finger had somehow found my clit in the process. Whether he learned it in a book or judged by my reaction, he was correct in assuming that it felt great he focused a good deal of attention on it. Although I thought his arm looked like it was in an awkward and uncomfortable position, his hand showed now sign of it.

His left hand which had previously lain unused on his leg now moved to the back of my head and I could tell he was trying to control the urge to push me further down his dick. I considered trying to “deep throat” his ample package, but after hearing one too many horror stories in the varsity soccer locker room, I decided to stick with what I was good at. And, judging from the look of joy on Michaels face, I was good at the head suck/base stroke technique. He succeeded in controlling the urge to push his cock down my throat and suddenly it felt larger in my mouth. His fingers stopped mid finger-fuck and his hips stayed lifted toward me. His previously unintelligible moans and gasps now became legible. “Oh Jesus oh Christ, Jen, I’m….oh fuck, you better…can I …?” I knew what he was getting at and after a very short consideration knew I was not ready to have cum in my mouth. Again, due to stories in the locker room I knew that it was hot, sticky, and tasted like rotten salt, I didn’t want it to ruin my enjoyment so I lifted my mouth from his cock for the first time since I had taken it in and simply stroked from base to head, base to head, base to head. I felt his cock pulsing and growing larger with each stroke. “Please don’t sto…” was the last thing he said to me before his load shot out of him and all over my shirt and his jeans. It ran down the back of my hand and threw my fingers; out of some morbid curiosity I licked a small amount of it off the tip of my middle finger. The girls had been right, it was horrible. However, Michael’s eyes grew wide with a pleasantly surprised type of look and I learned at that moment that men enjoyed it when women drank their juices. Calling on every bit of acting talent I had, I fake enjoyment and Michael laughed victoriously as his pulled me to him and kissed me hard on the mouth. He reached for a napkin that was luckily on the floor of the truck, wiped himself as clean as possible and tucked himself in. Obviously unsure what to say to me after this shameless act of fellatio and corresponding finger-fucking he just looked at me, equally unsure of what to say I smile at him. Finally I said, “Well, that was fun.” To this he agreed and we went about saying goodbye, though I don’t really remember, it probably went something like this: Me “I had fun tonight.” Him “Me too” Me “So call me in the morning?” Him “Yeah, I will” Me “K” Him “Later then”, lean in for a kiss and off we went…but this time, after about 5-10 minutes of typical teenage making out, groping, feeling up, etc in the front of his pick up, in the driveway to my mother’s home; we actually said goodbye and I got out and went inside. He waited for me to get inside, as he always did, and then he drove home. Thus went my very first blow job, and the very first time I was actually “fingered”.