I took out my key, unlocked the door, and walked in. The house was cool, still, and silent as usual but, unlike most days, it was filled with the homey scent of cinnamon and cloves from the apple cake I baked the night before.
“I swear I must be psychic.” I shut the door and locked it behind me. “Somehow, I just knew that he’d arrive here this morning. And finally, now I’m back home, too. I thought the day would never end.”
I was so horny I didn’t know how I’d managed to make it through the tedious workday without touching myself, but I was glad I waited. My first orgasm of the day would be with him! The first ones were always the best and this would be a real first in more ways than one. I took a very deep breath, wished myself luck in the mirror, and walked down the narrow hall to my bedroom.
I stepped tentatively into the room and looked straight ahead. There he was! He was lying on my bed, his head and neck supported by pillows. And that smile! He’d had a big smile on his face when I’d settled him and left him there in the morning, but I could almost swear that it was even bigger now. He looked so happy – perhaps even as happy as he was about to make me.
I couldn’t wait much longer. Dinner would have to be postponed till, hopefully, very late that night. First things first! The hunger that most needed satisfying was definitely not for food. I smiled and told him that I’d take a quick shower and be right back.
I hated to leave him, even for mere moments, but my deflowering had to be special and perfect, a memory I’d treasure. A shower would wash the nervous sweat from my body and refresh me, perhaps even soothe my frayed nerves a bit. I was sure that it was what I needed to do. It wouldn’t take long, and afterward we’d have all night, and if all went well, countless days and nights to come.
I blew him a shy kiss, rushed into the bathroom, and turned on the water, letting it warm up as I used the toilet. The thought of him, lying there so close, waiting for me in my bed, had me more aroused than I even realized at first. My senses were so heightened that I gasped and shivered when I accidentally brushed my clitoris with the toilet paper.
I climbed into the tub and stood under the hard, pulsing spray, letting myself get wet all over, except for my long hair that was coiled into a bun at the nape of my neck. After washing my face, I caressed my curvaceous body all over with creamy perfumed soap, bought the week before, in anticipation of his arrival. I paid careful, gentle attention to my private parts that I would soon be sharing with him for the first time.
Instead of taking the shower massage off the wall and aiming it at my nether lips, as I did most evenings, while leaning against the tiles or reclining in the deep tub, I left it in its bracket on the wall. I just stood there for a few moments, enjoying the rhythmic bursts of warm water as they hit my upper body and cascaded soothingly down to my toes.
One strong jet of water struck the very tip of my taut nipple and brought tears to my eyes, but I soon forgot the sudden sting. My body was aching for sex, and ready, so ready. It wasn’t just my stiff, sensitive nipples that told me that, but also my quickening pulse and my labia and clitoris that were swelling, throbbing, and becoming coated with a slick, viscous fluid that could never be mistaken for water.
I turned off the shower and got out of the tub. I quickly dried my tingling skin with a big, fluffy towel while looking at my glowing, bright-eyed face in the mirrored door of the medicine cabinet. My hot, quick breath fogged the glass as I watched myself unfasten and shake free my mass of long, dark curls.
“Well, here I am.” I smiled encouragingly to myself, trying to erase years of insecurity and self-doubt. “I’m a luscious, desirable woman, a Rubens nude come to life. He won’t be disappointed.”
I sensuously creamed my skin with moisturizer scented with the same fragrance as the soap, then completed my toilette by spraying a cloud of the matching cologne into the air and walking through it. After taking several deep, anxious breaths, I opened the door and stepped out into the bedroom, naked, shy, and nervous, but ready. Most definitely ready!
My lover was still lying there, just as I knew he would be, tucked snugly under the blue flowered comforter. I walked to the window and drew the curtains. It would be quite a while before sunset and I felt too shy to be so exposed and on display in such harsh, unforgiving, bright light.
I turned away from the window and faced the bed, my hands kneading my heavy breasts. I walked back to him, slowly, luxuriously caressing and fondling the abundant flesh of my soft hills and valleys. I looked down to watch my hands tenderly touching my body, but I’d made the room too dark. I wanted to be able to see myself and I wanted to be able to see him. I needed to see the two of us together. I lit two candles on the dresser and a large pillar candle on the bedside table.
“That’s much better. Not too bright, but just enough. All the better to see you with, my dear,” I murmured to him.
I shyly pulled up the comforter as I slipped in, next to him. The candlelight was soft and flattering, but I was still feeling somewhat bashful. After all, I’d never been naked in front of any man before.
He didn’t seem displeased when I asked him if he minded if I readied myself a bit with my vibrator, so I reached under the pillows and drew it out. I slipped it beneath the covers, spread my legs, pointed it at my centre, and turned it on. Just the sound of the strong motor humming, excited and dampened me before I even parted my lips and lightly touched my clit with it.
“You do know that I’m a virgin?” I confided with some embarrassment, moving the small yet powerful machine away from my hardening bud as I spoke. “I’d feel less anxious if I could widen myself with this.” I showed him the dildo I kept secreted with my vibrator.
When he kept on silently smiling that inscrutable smile of his, I took that as acquiescence. Lying with his warm arm behind my back, I repositioned my whirring machine. With my right hand on the vibrator and my left holding the dildo, I began to prepare my sex for penetration by his phallus.
And did I ever need preparation! I took my hand off my trusty vibrator, left the dildo clutched tightly inside me, and lifted the covers to take a peek at him. I stared at his swollen, standing organ. It was massive! It was positively frightening!
It appeared to be at least nine inches long with a big, bulbous head and a hefty shaft traced with bulging veins. It was nearly puce in colour and incredibly firm, I discovered, as well as huge. The fingers of one hand could not span its circumference. I had to use both hands, and when I squeezed, the monster barely yielded to the pressure. I was sure I needed plenty of time to prepare myself to take that tremendous member into me, that is, if it were even possible.
Nervously I picked up my massager and resumed teasing myself with it. My swollen folds parted as I gently pushed the dildo further into my sheath. I began moving the cylinder in and out of my increasingly-slicker and more-welcoming canal. I closed my eyes and focused all my attention on that one small area of my body that seemed to be all that existed in the entire universe.
As the plastic phallus pushed in, parting my hidden walls, I revelled in the sensation of being completely filled. As it was drawn out with twisting motions, I suffered the aching, teasing sadness of my folds collapsing in upon each other, contracting in their loss. The vibrator danced around my clit as alternating waves of joy and sorrow, fullness and emptiness, the emotions of my very flesh, rippled in and out of my clenching sex.
The erotic sensations were so intense that I was in danger of becoming lost in my private reverie of voluptuous abandon. Unlike other occasions when I was alone and hungry, this time my sole purpose was not to pleasure myself to orgasm. I had to remind myself that now, with each rhythmic probe and twist, I was making my sheath wider, more lubricious and welcoming. I had to be mindful of the task that went beyond my own immediate gratification. My goal was to prime myself to take his big, hard penis into me.
Thinking of his size, especially his considerable girth, reminded me of the need to widen my nether mouth as much as I possibly could. With that in mind, I began circling the dildo as firmly and widely as possible, round and round inside my pussy. With each determined circle, with each hard revolution, I was loosening my tight entrance and widening the swollen tunnel of my uninitiated sex. It was truly a labour of love.
When I felt ready, I turned off the vibrator and put it aside. I drew out the dildo, moaning in pleasure as I felt the firm tug on my folds of inner flesh. The plastic cylinder was as warm as my swollen cunt and covered with my slippery secretions. Rolling over to face him, I smiled, licked my lips and got onto my hands and knees. With pendant breasts swaying heavily beneath me, I moved down on the bed till his erection loomed directly in front of me.
After one last shy look up at his face, I lowered my head and opened my mouth wider than I ever had before to encompass his glans. I began to lick and suck. I sucked and sucked, coating his sex with my saliva. My fists travelled up and down his shaft, my motions at first light and slow, getting firmer and faster as the suction of my mouth increased.
After a-while, I tired. My mouth and neck were not accustomed to such strenuous exercise. My jaw complained audibly as I forced it open even wider so that I could release his penis. It bobbed up proudly, glistening in the candlelight.
I had not expected to feel such vast and varied emotions. I was excited, aroused, and filled with such aching desire, but that bulging tool of his was so immense. The virile masculinity of it made me feel small, soft, and feminine. It looked so dangerous and powerful in contrast with my own fragile vulnerability. It frightened me almost as much as it enticed me.
I picked up the vibrator and paused to allow myself one more look at the instrument of my imminent impalement before rising up and straddling him. I knelt above him on legs that were shaking with equal measures of anxiety and anticipation.
“I’d better do this myself,” I breathed as, with determined fingers, I stretched my labia wider and wider until my slit was splayed open as far as it would go.
I wanted his entry into me to be accomplished with as little pain as possible. Happily, the escalating pulsations and spasms of my cunt focused my mind more on my hunger and less on my trepidations. But still, I wanted to be careful.
I thrust three fingers of my left hand into the hot flesh of my soaking sex. I pulled them out, dripping with my thick juices, and lubricated his entire penis. Again, I delved deeply into myself, this time spreading the copious secretions over my swollen lips that would soon envelop him. One more time, I plunged into my cunt and used the viscous fluid to wet my own little erect phallus. After that, I was sure I was ready.
I inched further up on the bed, pulled my lips wide and positioned myself in a tense squat over his erection. I teased myself with the vibrator causing more love juice to dribble out of me and drip down the length of his prick. Determinedly, I lowered myself till I felt his hard cock pressing firmly against my spread lips. I looked up at him for encouragement and found that I didn’t want to look away from his face. I felt the connection between our eyes echoing the connection between our sexes.
Panting, I lowered myself determinedly onto his prick, then withdrew, only to push down and swallow him again. Up and down I went, a bit further each time, all the while with my eyes locked on his. I could feel my cunt stretching – it stung, but I stubbornly persisted until I sensed an obstruction inside me, a barrier that wouldn’t allow him any further into me.
“Damn! I’d better take care of that,” I muttered. “With all the wanking I’ve been doing, I’m surprised it didn’t tear before now.”
With my vibrator on high speed and pressed directly against my clit, I rose up and then thrust myself down hard and fast. Crying out in pain, but even more in joy, I impaled myself completely on his cock. I finally had him inside me to the balls.
I felt torn and sore, but still I rode him, gently and slowly at first until my growing pleasure gradually overcame my pain. Soon my tension and lust were so strong and uncontrollable, I was bouncing furiously up and down on his tool. The bedsprings were squeaking madly. My panting became louder and more ragged. I threw my head back and sweat flew into my eyes, stinging them, but I couldn’t have cared less. I couldn’t bear to even think of ending that incredible fuck for anything in the world. I just kept fucking and fucking and fucking with all the energy and enthusiasm and lascivious horniness I possessed.
But all things, including wonderful fucks, must end, and for me, the ending was spectacular. I exploded in a magnificent orgasm, totally consuming my entire body. It was, by far, the biggest and best I’d ever experienced.
I felt as if my insides had shattered and burst and gone shooting up and down, from one side to the other, all throughout my convulsing body and inside my exploding head. My spasming cunt gripped him voraciously, repeatedly. My clenching muscles clamped, vise-like around him, keeping him captive. It felt like we would never come apart, just remain that way forever, lustfully locked together.
The overwhelming sensations kept going on and on. Just as the dizzying contractions began to weaken slightly, another climax built up almost immediately and broke, crashing and tumbling through my body. Suddenly, I realized that my vibrator was still pressed against my clit. I couldn’t take any more stimulation. The extreme, intense pleasure had crossed the threshold of my endurance and become pain. I threw the vibrator aside but kept his prick tightly imprisoned inside me while the spasms slowly subsided, leaving a glow of pleasure behind.
Sighing and breathing heavily, I leaned down and laid my head on his chest, feeling content and at peace. After a few moments of well-deserved rest, I wearily pulled myself up off his still-rigid cock, then bent down and licked it clean, relishing my own sweet taste. I moved up on the bed and lay down next to him, sore and shaking, but happy and satisfied beyond anything I had ever known. The wonderful feeling extended to all aspects of my being – body, mind, and soul.
I was no longer a virgin, could never again be called an old maid, or that hideous word, spinster. If my aching insides weren’t enough to confirm my deflowering, the spots of blood on the sheet and the pink tinge to the juice I’d lapped off his phallus proved it.
My bedroom was totally quiet and still again. It seemed strange to me that this place of ecstatic pleasure and voluptuous sensuality hadn’t changed in some palpable way. It was still the same familiar, calm and peaceful room of my maiden years even though I had changed so much myself.
I smiled and looked over to my right to see my lover lying there, smiling as broadly and contentedly as I was. I reached out and touched his face, his hand, his arm, his leg, and then very gently and lovingly, caressed his sturdy phallus.
It was then that I found myself wondering, “If a life-sized doll with an attached phallus is this fantastic, how much more incredible would a flesh-and-blood, living, breathing, loving man be?”
For the time being, at least, I could only imagine, although I hoped, with all my heart, not to mention my body, that one day soon I’d be lucky enough to find out. But until that day came, I knew I’d be OK. I’d do just fine whether I found a man or not. After all, I had my very own toyboy!