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  #1  
Old 06-30-2015, 10:33 PM
shkshkshk shkshkshk is offline
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Default "Anal doesn't count either"

Teenagers are better than lawyers at finding loopholes in the law of the land, where land = their parents’ home.

Even though I was 18 and just into my first year of college, the rules were pretty stringent when I came home for breaks. The dorms afforded me a lot of opportunities to experiment and indulge, with girls and with the boys who fancied themselves real “men,” but I’d never been penetrated. I was terrified of getting pregnant and stuck to oral sex initially (coming of age during the Clinton administration is at least partially to blame for our “it doesn’t count” mentality). I had a long distance boyfriend by the spring of my freshman year. He was a couple of years older and not a virgin, as I still considered myself. He thought he knew my sexuality better than I did and had a tendency to correct me in conversations about what I’d like and how it would feel. He helped set me up for years of unsatisfying sex with men, which made me question if I was maybe lesbian and not just bisexual.

My college dorms strictly prohibited male visitors (my parents were eager to fork over the cash for this added protection- versus a cheaper apartment- which was admittedly effective against some things anyway). He lived closer to my hometown than where I went to college so we’d often spend time together on breaks and long weekends. This was both convenient and whatever the feminine of equivalent of blue balls is, for me. He had a bottle of cologne that was shaped like a test tube and would talk about using it like a dildo on me when we were having phone sex. I didn’t like the idea and had never put anything inside of myself other than small tampons, which still felt too big. I liked to lightly tease the tip of my clit until I would clench and feel my whole body flush, overwhelmed with a thousand microscopic electric shocks. It felt so intense but I was somehow still a good girl, with my more important boundaries uncrossed.

After a movie once, he turned down a side dirt road on the way back to my parents’ farm. It was a dark night in the middle of nowhere, but I was still terrified of getting caught. I was eager to kiss both his lips and his cock, but it wasn’t enough for him. The bottle of cologne was in the cup holder. I lifted my ass and pulled my unzipped jeans down far enough to get half of it inside. I was wet and it slid easily but I instantly and absolutely hated the sensation. It was too hard and impersonal. He told me to at least clean it off before he took me home. I sucked on it in resentful silence. I didn’t like how I tasted half-dried. Normally, I liked to immediately stick the middle finger of my right hand into my mouth after cumming. It started as a token effort to keep the phone in my dorm room clean but soon became a part of a meditative and gratifying ritual.

Near the end of the spring semester, in late May, the stars aligned and both of my parents were going to be out of town while I was home studying for finals and doing laundry one Saturday. My dad was several states away, training for a new job. My mom and sister were going on a church retreat overnight. I asked if my boyfriend could take me to a movie that night. My mom said that was okay, as long as I promised that he didn’t go up to my room. I swore that he wouldn’t and they were off. I called my boyfriend to tell him about this unexpected opportunity. He said that they could enjoy church but he’d be worshipping my body since it’d be the first time he’d seen all of me naked at once.

I felt guilty as soon as he pulled into the driveway. I told him that I’d sworn not to go upstairs. He agreed. The complication here was that I’d firmly said that I wanted to lose my virginity in a bed. It was me desperately clinging to some sense of self-respect in a relationship with an increasing pressure to keep going further and further. Fumbling and breathless, with a pounding heart, we ended up on the living room couch, me leaning back, feet on the floor wide apart, and him on his knees. I’d already soaked a spot on the sweatshirt I’d thrown down. It didn’t seem right to put my bare ass on a cushion that the whole family would sit on and touch. He buried his face in with enthusiasm but my best friend had set the bar high on that particular activity and he was no match for the passion of until-recently-repressed teenage girls.

And then he licked my asshole. It’s worth saying twice. And then he licked my asshole.

That single wet, firm sensation set my mind and body on fire. I kept myself clean but had never even been curious about anal. Now, I wanted know everything and feel everything. I had a sudden rush of thoughts. Anal didn’t count. A hard cock in my ass on the floor of the living room may have been against the spirit of the law but didn’t technically break my rule about losing my virginity or the promise that I’d made to my mom an hour earlier. There was some fumbling to find a good position for entry but his cock, knowing that it was about to be in me after months of waiting, had turned to stone, in no danger of being discouraged by my awkward inexperience. I found myself on my back, legs flipped up so that my ankles were on either side of my head. The deep shag, while hideously out of date, made a soft enough surface. He spit on my upturned hole. I gagged just a little at the sound. But there was no bottle of lube and I was already half dehydrated from having soaked the sweatshirt. My inner thighs were coated with the rest of what my body seemed capable of making that second. There was no tentative finger. Just his tapered head pressing against my hole until the resistance suddenly gave way and his cock popped inside. My eyes rolled back and my brain reeled until there was not a single thought left. He hesitated and asked if I was ok since I hadn’t made a sound or moved an inch. I managed a breathless “uh huh!” and he needed no further confirmation. I clenched my pussy tight, as though I was latching onto something, almost terrified at this unchecked freefall into pleasure. He moaned when I clenched and I felt a gush of my own wetness being pushed up from some deep reservoir. His cock slickened and pounding is the only way to describe what he did next. I could feel each vein of his shaft individually as they slid against the taut inside of my hole. He grunted hard as he started to cum, filling me for the first time ever. It couldn’t have been more than 45 seconds but as suddenly as it’d begun, it was over. And it couldn’t have been 3 minutes since the first lick.

We never did anal again. His focus turned to a quest for my “real” virginity after that. It turned out that those 3 perfect minutes of anal would have to last me for the next 12 years.

In the intervening time between then and my current partner, one guy was disappointed when I took his anal virginity but I didn’t scream and moan in pain like the girls in the anal porn he liked. The next boyfriend was also an anal virgin- he tried it but didn’t like it, we stayed in a relationship, and a decade passed without it. The next man was bisexual and his early experiences were all with men. He couldn’t stay hard if it was too slow and gentle. So he made sure that it hurt enough that I was actually screaming and moaning in pain.

Now, it’s exquisite, as much as I like, and exactly how I like it.
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  #2  
Old 07-01-2015, 07:00 AM
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nectcouple nectcouple is offline
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Awesome first post!
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Old 07-01-2015, 11:42 AM
ModelT-MsDollie ModelT-MsDollie is offline
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Welcome

An absoulutly great story. Well written and almost like being there. As much as my wife and I both hate anal we loved reading your story.
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Old 07-03-2015, 01:25 PM
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Default Great.

Wow. Hopefully more to come.
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