Our First Time

Our First Time by Venus O’Hara

Our First Time

I know something is going to happen between us. It’s obvious. The question is how is it going to transpire. I get a nervous thrill when I think about it. But when I analyse the ‘how’ I get a little overwhelmed so I decide to outsource that ‘problem’ to you. I’m going to embrace my divine feminine energy and focus on allowing, surrender and receptivity and I’ll let you step into your masculine energy so that you can take control of the action.  

We’ve just had lunch and now we’re having tea on my sofa. I feel shy and awkward around you. 

The longing I feel is off the charts. The weeks of buildup are about to come to a climax of desire. We make small talk but I want to go deeper. So it occurs to me to read one of my erotic stories to you. I know you like how I write. 

I even wonder what it would be like to write about you. I’m sure I will one day but in the meantime, I share a fantasy that reveals a lot about my sexual tastes. I remember writing it and feeling so frustrated and horny and now I’m in a situation where intimacy is imminent. It’s an indescribable sensation. 

I grab my phone and find the document. I’m blushing and I’m mega uncomfortable as I narrate my hot story between sips of my herbal tea. It describes in great detail exactly how I enjoy the act of penetrative sex. Despite my discomfort. I’m still inspired to keep on reading the explicit scenes from my narrative. When it gets too much, I pause and laugh nervously. Then at the end, I put my phone down and ask you what your favourite part was, even though I can barely look you in the eye. 

‘The part when you described how the tip of the penis entered the vagina,’ you say. 

I sigh and I have to gather myself because I can’t help but imagine what it might be like to feel you enter me. I guess I’ll find out soon, I cross my legs as I contemplate it.

When we finish our tea, I put the cups on the table, meaning that our hands are free to explore each other. Almost without noticing, we slowly edge towards each other on the sofa and I suddenly feel your hands on the nape of my neck, gently caressing me. Do you know that this is probably one of my most sensitive erogenous zones

I let out a sigh as I feel my body react and melt.  My skin is tingling in response to your touch. What’s more, the small of my back feels charged with energy. Is it my kundalini rising? I don’t think I’ve ever reacted as intensely as this to someone’s touch before. 

I close my eyes and I focus on facilitating your access to all of me. As your hands explore my skin, my moans gradually get louder until the point where they are almost orgasmic even though we are still not even close to that point. 

I’m well and truly in passive mode as you discover me, undress me and stimulate me. The caressing becomes an embrace and we automatically shed our clothes until we are both naked. I’m feeling so alive as I notice the blood rushing through my veins. My heart is racing and my emotions are in overdrive. 

I need to feel you inside me now.

Finally, the barrier is crossed. I welcome you to my body. We merge together effortlessly, like two pieces of a jigsaw in divine union. 

I’m surprised at how different our lovemaking is compared to the narrative I’ve just read to you. As you move inside me, my sensations intensify and time becomes ethereal, fading into insignificance.

As we approach the pinnacle of passion, my climax unfolds like a poetic dance of desire and vulnerability, transcending the boundaries of the physical. Like the crescendo of a symphony, it builds with tantalising anticipation, drawing my senses closer to a precipice of rapture as my body convulses in waves of euphoria, releasing the tension that has been building up between us for weeks.

What a relief! As I get my breath back after, I’m not just relishing the tranquility that only post-orgasmic delight can provide. I’m so glad the barrier is crossed and we have entered this new territory of intimacy where I sense that there is so much more to explore. 

First times can be awkward but the real sign of a success is whether or not you want there to be a second time. As I process what has just happened, I’m just hoping that this was the first of many.

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