1. A Lifetime in One Moment


    Date: 7/16/2015, Categories: True Story, First Time, Mature, Virginity, Author: Unknow user, Rating: 91.6, Source: sexstories.com

    my hands and begin to squeeze and manipulate it, trying to wring the pain and frustration from my body. I didn't want to masturbate. I was fairly certain now that we were going to make love, that I was finally going to lose my virginity, and to a real women, not a girl. I didn't want to mess that up, but she was right – I was SO HARD. I moved to a secluded corner of the garage and pulled my shorts down just enough to access my swollen manhood. ***** In my imagination, she says, "Not like this. Not here." But then she says, "I will help you, though," and grabbing my erection she moves behind me, pushing down my shorts, stroking my hot, bare penis with her tender hand. I have to place my hands against the shelves to steady myself. Faster and faster she pumps, with perfect rhythm, like she is reading my mind. I have to turn and lean back against the wall, and now she is beside me, stroking me, her mouth pressed against my ear. "Come on, Kevin, come for me," she talks wetly into my ear. I am trying vainly not to swear. My whole body is convulsing. "That's it, come on," she says softly, pleadingly. "Oh jeez!" I spew forth a rope of cum, and then another, and yet more. And then she is gone. ***** I had almost collapsed on the floor in the corner of the garage. I had erupted, and when I regained my senses, I marveled at my effort. A small puddle of my ejaculate lay at least six feet from where I was standing, and then three or four long gooey strings were splattered on the ...
    oil-darkened garage floor. I was sweating from every pore of my body. I was dazed. I found a clean rag and cleaned myself up, and then I dabbed the floor. I threw the rag away and sat down on a folding chair. I tried to rest and recapture my breath. My T-shirt was dirty. I had soiled my shorts a bit. My hands were dirty, especially under my fingernails. She was right – not like this. I found a small powder room on the main floor of Laura's house. The air-conditioned coolness was a greater relief than I had expected. I washed up as best I could. I had taken my shirt off to wipe down my chest when Laura knocked on the door. I opened it. "Here, try this," she said, handing me a T-shirt. I was startled. She was wearing a Japanese silk robe, jade with gold embroidery – it complimented her eyes. The hem brushed just above her knees. Her legs were satiny smooth. I smelled lemon and vanilla and soap this time. "It was my husband's, so it should fit you." I held it open and finally turned my gaze from hers. It was a dark-blue, extra-large T-shirt with a gold "Cal" in script on the front. "Thanks. Mine was kind of dirty." "I know." She smiled. I put the shirt on. "Great," I said. She appeared to be admiring me. She had me sit at the kitchen table. It was a country farmhouse antique, nicked and scraped, the white paint worn away in places. Bread was baking in the oven, and the soothing aroma filled the house. In front of me there was a glass of ice water, an empty white plate, and a small bowl ...
«12...8910...1314»