Early Morning Confessions- STORY TIME: The 1st time BBC made me CUM
I am solely making an observation out loud to anyone that wants to reflect on my subconscious sexual decision making process with me. This is a thought that is expanding, so I am writing, freely. Feel free to coast with me.
I lost my virginity at 16, in Detroit. I had a terrible cherry popping excursion with the boy next door. You know, the one you think is so fly because you literally know nothing about dick and you don’t really recognize game because your mom hasn’t let you out the house enough to practice. I don’t even think I had my first minute phone yet. But I was definitely had minutes to connect to my lust for o’ boy. He was the charismatic kid that hooped in the middle of the street, and smiled at you in between shots. Yup, that guy. Demetrius was dark chocolate with a smile that made you question your morals. He would say sly things and then smile at the end of the comment, in await to see if your facial expression differed. It always did. So pretty shortly after I couldn’t deny the curiosity any longer. (Everyone around me was sexually active. The only other virgin I knew was Tracey, my play cousin/ best friend, who randomly lost her virginity the same day.) So, I put my morals in the drawer and smuggled him up to my bed room one night when mostly no one was around or home. Unfortunately, he was one of those “I think I got that stroke, so I am gunna fuck you like you’re a pro. You gunna take this dick” type of ninjas. Mmmmm, hello! He must of forgotten the whole virginity part. Or maybe he didn’t believe me. He asked me once if I was OK, but I was already in my head wondering why I was still taking his death strokes. It’s almost not significant enough to go into detail about. But it is, because everyday a young woman loses her virginity to uneducated boys like this. There was no 4 play or easing into it, like how they make it seem in the movies. No romance or sweet nothings to be whispered in my ear. Just young black dick… and somehow, I stayed incredibly wet. Maybe it was all the excitement. Long story short, it was terrible. I had more fun dry humping. He was the first to penetrate me, but I didn’t cum for the next 2 years of sexual activity. (Some of the boys in between time have had ever lasting impressions on me. But for time sake, I will get into detail more about them at a later date or at the readers requests.) Well that is not necessarily true. I am a habitual masturbater, and I have been since very early on in my life (another story for another date). Oh and there was that time when I let my girl eat my pussy until I released all of me in her mouth. However, that’s not today’s story either. STAY FOCUSED. The width of a dick wouldn’t make me cum for another 2 years and 5 partners later. My sex drive was on 1000 by then. Sex was a constant on my mind. I was in need of a passionate mutual session. Porn seemed to be the only thing that got me off… but for the most part I was never in a comfortable enough position to rub my clit while being penetrated. (Young black boys are very similar to Olympic champions… all divisions.) I needed to know what cumming on something so full and think would feel like, and what it would do to me… for me, but young boys know not what they do. However, I understood the significance of a man keeping his ego in a world where he is often chopped down, so I did a lot of faking it to either preserve their pride or speed up the process, depending on how irritated I was or how charitable I was feeling. I wonder now if I made the wrong decision by not calling out their illegitimate understanding on “How to please a woman”. I probably allowed boys to think they had the know how to pleasure a woman as aware as myself. So my apologies to the universe and myself, for caring too much about how they felt, in return depriving my essential needs. I think women in HIStory have made that unfair sacrifice quit often.
Moving along… When I was 18, I met a 26 year old Rob. I met him through Tracey, he was related to her neighbors from the block over, making him almost family to her, they were all so tight. And as soon as he saw me strolling down the street with her… I was his new game. And the hunt began. However, I have never been a huge athlete, nor did I ever have the time or luxury to play games. So the chase turned into me asking him his intentions. And him simply responding… “To make you mine.” And that made me smile, in my misguided youth and ignorance. He was the type to buy me flowers, and bring me food to work. He called me often, just to say he was thinking of me. He seemed to be the first functioning adult I had ever been with. He was also the first relationship I had outside of high school. And he did things to my body that made me question if I knew not what I do. And I didn’t. (The most I knew was some hip rolling and light weight, throw it back rotations.) I don’t remember making him wait long. I never felt rushed though. One night we were in his room and then he got on his knees, and I damn near fainted. I knew what was coming next. (Rob had a goofy personality. He laughed a lot. But he also was very serious about business. Think Damon Dash. Laughing one minute, and going off on everyone as soon as he spot someone slipping. With me, he was very warm and nurturing.) He was tall, like 6 ft. I am just 5′4.5. On his knees, his face was right under my tits. He wasted no time…. I don;t remember him taking anything off. Wet kisses led a trail to my freshly shaved mound of coconut scent. (He was also a deep blended shade of coffee, no cream…. not yet. Broad shoulders. His teeth were a bit more over bite than I would have liked. But overall, I wasn’t strict on physical looks. Never was. I really have always been an energy explorer. He dressed very fresh. New kicks, fresh cut, and clean tee, if not a button down. Oh and his Detroit Al Wissam leather jacket. He drove a two toned coupe deville. I believe it was a 78′, I could be incorrect. Cream on Red. I am not a car person at all. But I remember his car because it was so sparkly and he was the first guy I was ever with that had a car. And it was a Cadillac. We were in the motor city… and man did he love that car. Anyway back to the story.) He kissed my lips like they were his salvation. Slow. Wet. Sensual. Yet, still a bit aggressive. It was perfect. I was already timid. I felt in my heart that I was out of my league. But while I was stuck in between my thoughts and the persuasion of the dark warm colors of pleasure splashing in my mind, he managed to maneuver me from a standing position to a riding his face position. My knees magically settling on the bed, in a matter of 2 swift moves. At this point I felt very much afraid of heights. And then I suffered a case of stage freight, as I looked down and seen that he was watching my every reaction. He was invested in seeing my body sway with every slither of his tongue. And here is the best part… he stopped. Mmmmmhmmmm. Ahhhhhh, but only to express to me the significance of letting go. He said “Ride my face like you mean it. Ride it until you cum in my mouth.” Ladies…. you know what that does to your spine the first time you hear it!?! Shit! It still gets me weak in the knees. My nerves were everywhere, but then it was like a flick of the light switch. My sexy turned on, just like that, for the first time. I phased into the comfort of satisfaction. And he saw it. I knew he did because I could feel him smiling as his mouth was pressed against me. That only enticed me more. I immediately felt cloaked in his need for me. I remember the rise I began to feel, and the the pressure of his hand on my thighs pulling me even closer to his face. Mmmmmmmm and then he changed the rotation and added a harder more focused suction of my clitoris…… it happened in flashes… hot, uncontrollable flashes. I pulled the back of his neck in. My hip movements were much more harsh. I took a deep, deep breath, and by the time I phased back in, he was over me. Smiling in my face. I understood the whole heaven metaphor at that point. All of me was floating……
Oh but wait, this story is called The 1st time BBC made me CUM. Yeah, so you guessed it. He spent time making sure I was still coherent, and then he kissed my face as if to prep me. My face moved into his lips and he and his thick dick pushed into my lips. I was soaking wet and still highly sensitive, so It was all pleasure. Every millimeter of him gliding into me. I felt the heat of his blood rushing. And then I heard his breathe leave him. I was so snapped into that trance. I was so into him. He pushed all the way into me. And I sighed pretty loud. It started very slow. Now that I am older and well seasoned, I am well aware of how tight that fit was. I gave him a few out of sync pumps before I started to follow his hips with mine. And then his moans started to tumble out. Soft moans. I wanted more though. So towards the very end of every stroke I would tighten my muscles and thrust harder, but it was very controlled. As if our body was rolling in a perpendicular rhythm. He laughed very loudly and then wanted to change positions. That instantly gave me power. So clearly, to avoid that early nut, our ‘geography’ had to change. He placed me on top of him. (Did I mention this is the position I feel most comfortable in? Well it is!) It only took a few deep hip lifts from him. He was smiling the whole time. I felt my bottom lip begin to slide from under my teeth where it had been held captive for… I am not sure how long. I felt it lower then slide into a pout. My breathing got shorter, and I felt the skin under me collect a puddle. His face became more serious, as the bounce of my breasts became more consistent and controlled. Maybe it was the constant brushing of my clit against his pelvis but suddenly all of my body lifted, but he simultaneously lifted with me to dig deeper…. I felt myself burst. My body felt like it shattered, and every individual atom was free. It was an instant call to collapse into his chest. I felt his broad chest under me rise with chuckles. At that age I was very prideful, so that laughter would have offended me. But at that moment in that place of bliss, it didn’t even phase me. I too laughed in that moment. It was 2 years of 4 play. If I would have had to wait any longer my body may have possibly spontaneously combusted. OK, massive exaggeration…. but I felt like it would have. I enjoyed it there on his damp skin, as he shifted to peer at my face. I rested until the hypersensitivity dissipated. And then I began to kegel intensely upon his still fully erect extension. (For those of you who may be possibly uninformed, Kegel is a form of exercise that a woman uses to tighten her pelvic floor muscles. A regular practice of this internal work out, and most women can snap that pussy back into almost new. A lack of kegels gets you the looser fitting pussy.) So I got his attention. I captured my attention. Experiencing such girth in me woke me up. I clinched harder. His legs twitched. There in that action I felt dominance. Like a cat I pounced and slowly lifted my hips, waiting for the next time to strike. Continuing the tightening and releasing of his dick, I began to lift and drop my hips, and rock and rotate until I was rewarded with his body glitches. I fell back into that danger zone of build up. The fog began to shift in and my hesitation began to shift out. There was a yearning for the feel of him. I hugged him tightly internally. He deserved it. My full uninterrupted concentration. I, while still squeezing him from within, began to add a hip rise and drop. Something like a gallop. His body began to tense up. Recognizing how much control I had, my stature even stretched up, and I looked him in his eyes and watched him rise and then fall under me with a loud grunt. I didn’t necessarily want to stop. So I kept that speed for another 5 or 6 thrusts. And as his body continued to spasm, I felt victory fall over me. Strategically I began to span my movement out, until he came to a full rest and my mind reached a new level of arousal. It’s unfathomable… when what you have been imaging does little justice in comparison to what you actually receive. At that moment I knew that sex was what I wanted to master. And never again did I want to give someone other than myself the sexual domain of my pleasure. I realized that I was in command of my satisfaction and orgasmic allowance. And never again did I let fear hold me back.
I should start writing again….
Write a book...
