Birthday Sex
A stream of consciousness remembrance of my birthday and the first time having sex with my boyfriend for several months.
His hands are so big. When they’re touching me I walk on air. They’re big heavy hands that take their time caressing down my body and slipping fingers under waist bands.
“Can I take these off?”
We’re going to have sex. He’s told me all week he was getting ready to make love to me on my birthday. I always giggled like it wasn’t a big deal. Like I didn’t need it. But now he’s kissed me. Now his hands have set my skin on fire.
“Yes”
My shorts slide off in a quick motion, disappearing into the room behind him. He slides close and I feel his shaft resting against my lips. He’s hard. I want to know what it feels like inside me; it’s been so long since I’ve had sex. Real sex with someone I love. Luckily I don’t have to wait for long to feel the pressure of him sliding in. I’m soaking wet and it happens fast, but I savor the feeling of that very first feeling of being full.
His cock. His hard cock is buried inside me. We are as close as two people can be and he’s thrusting. It feels good and I can’t help but gasp. I feel like a virgin. This doesn’t feel sexual, not exactly. Its like I’ve broken open my soul for him to see, even all of the ugly broken parts, and he’s probing into it. Poking and prodding and fingering my wounds.
It’s too much. I start to cry. I tell him that’s enough.
He withdraws and moves up to hold me. To say he loves me and kiss my forehead. I breathe and relax and come back to myself. I apologize. I don’t think I can cum, too much wine.
“That’s okay. You don’t need to cum. Do you want to do it again, just for fun?”
Yes. I apologize. Sex is so weird for me.
“It’s weird for both of us.”
His weight is on me again and he pushes back inside. This time, I’m determined not to get lost in my mind. Instead, I dissolve into him. My body takes over and does what feels natural. I don’t orgasm and neither does he.
We fuck, we kiss, we cuddle and sleep. I wake up and I love him more than the day before.
Sex is strange, there’s no control. I’m not sure I want it again.
Except, maybe, next year on my birthday.
One Comment
David
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