Masha V.   view profile 

I did not have any sexual experience for a long time. This was what happened once. It was at the end of May, before the school was over.

I noticed the neighbors' boy waiting for me on the stairway landing each time I was getting back home from school and going up the stairs to my flat. He was 1.5 - 2 years younger than me. It was obvious that he became very nervous each time he saw me: tried to hide his eyes, licked his lips, and twitched in a strange way, as if gathering his courage for something. I did not realize at first that it had something to do with me, but that was the way it was.
Once he finally made up his mind. I had just pasted the landing, just a few steps, when I caught an abrupt movement below with my side vision. At that very moment his hand slipped under my skirt and grabbed me between my legs. His grip was not painful, but tight and powerful.
It was warm so I was wearing only panties, and his touch was very sensible. Suddenly, I felt as if poured over with a basket of water, I became weak and dumbfounded - could not move and just froze. I tightened my legs in reflex, but it only made his hand stuck to my secret place tighter, and I felt weak in my knees, overwhelmed with sensation. I could not do anything - neither hit nor push him aside.
And he, using his lucky chance, tried not to waist a second - tried (faster, faster) feel, touch everything his hand can get hold of. Not knowing what to do I gave him 'the look of death' - and saw his face. It was a face of a mad man, desperate and unhappy. You can see such an expression on a dog' muzzle when all of a sudden it jumps on the master's leg and starts 'making love' to it. As if some force makes them do it against their will. Later I recalled a 'sperm pressure' expression.
It all happened very quick and unexpected then, so my reaction might not be quite adequate. When I saw his miserable face, I was suddenly struck with 'woman's sympathy' (do not know what you would call it). All my wrath suddenly evaporated, it was replaced with a kind of a derisive feeling, and with it came back control over my body.

I relieved the 'grip' of my legs, which he used immediately. His other hand got under my skirt from the front and met his fist one. He moved one stair up to level with me and pressed his front to my leg tightly, literary twining my thigh with his legs. His hands were fumbling over me from front and back, feeling greedily my pubis, perineum and ass, and he, himself started twitching and rubbing himself against my leg. Exactly like a dog would!
It started to seem a bit funny to me, my 'paralysis' gone, and the touch of his hands was not really unpleasant (rather affectionate). So I withstood 'the procedure' to the end, and when he came off of me and ran downstairs, even shouted derisively after him: 'Are you happy now, hero?'
I cannot say that the episode was of serious influence on me. Maybe facilitated my perception on men slightly. Their weaknesses became obvious to me.

Masha V.   view profile 

I definitely lingered with loosing my virginity. A few of my friends even got married already, but I did not have a boyfriend yet. I was always friendly with men (I am a sociable girl), but my relations with them continued as friendship for some reason, did not go further. I blamed it on my virginity. I thought guys did not want to go further because they thought relations with a virgin had no future. And I thought I was morally ready to kiss goodbye to my virginity.

My attitude changed: before when guys had suggested intimacy, I felt an inner desire to protect myself, but now there were no resistance on my behalf. The question was who would be the first to sense it and take advantage of it.
Unfortunately for me, the first one was Uzbek. I remember his name, but do not want to mention it - I am still disgusted at him, even now. The guy was 24 years old, he came to St. Petersburg to sign some kind of a contract, and while his issue was being decided he loafed about our institution, took a seat near us, secretaries and tried to talk somebody into spending time together.
He was telling basically same thing to everybody - promised to show the miracles of 'oriental sex'. He said he knew such niceties and sacraments of the Orient, that no European knew, and a night with him would become an unforgettable fairy tale for any woman, and offered anyone to satisfy oneself on that.
More experienced girls laughed at him. But I was too stupid to believe. Of course I wanted my first time to be remembered not because of pain and blood, but because of heavenly rapture. So, one night we went to cafe at first, then to a flat he rented.
Uzbek was very mush excited about the date, and got excited even more after I told him I was a virgin. He said I was incredibly lucky - a date with him - the best thing that could happen to a virgin. Then he got down to business.
The beginning was not really bad. I liked it when he caressed my breasts - it was for the first time in my life. But it did not continued for long, he was impatient and in about 5 minutes I was already lying under him naked. Having clambered up on top of me, his took his time busying himself below, setting his tool to the right position. Having made sure I was all correct, he threw a glance at my face as if wanting to say: 'Let's go!' - and pressed.
From that moment on my torture began. Pain flashed in my brain. But that was not it, there was more to follow. I was not at all ready, I was 'dry' - that was why he was forcing his way inside me with abrupt pushes, and each of them was a result of overcoming my resisting flesh. When he started his frictions I began to moan, but not with pleasure. I was sore inside and it hurt and I was afraid his huge tool would pierce me through.
But I clenched my teeth courageously and decided to endure. Because 'oriental delight' was supposed to start soon. That was the reason I agreed to that. Uzbek was indefatigable as a mule. Although, as I understand it now, changing positions was all his knowledge was about. With few minutes' intervals he would turn me over, made me assume most intricate positions, asking me from time to time if that felt good.
I did not say anything definite, (still waiting for the miracle to come), but at the end of the first hour I felt it was time we had stopped. I was all burning sore inside as if sprinkled with pepper. Uzbek by that time had come three times (not inside me, but on the bed, like a gentleman), but, have to give him credit, his hard-on did not become any softer.
When I tried to suggest humbly, that maybe it was time we'd stopped, he asked me to keep my patience, promising that this was about to happen (he just had to show me a few more of his special ways). So I spent another half hour, tied up in unthinkable positions, suffering like hell from the soreness in my pussy.
At last I just begged him to let me go, almost crying. Uzbek was perplexed, indignant and even angry at me. His gallantry vanished without a trace. He explained to me what a fool I was. Any woman would dream of such a lover like him - somebody who could have her tirelessly for half an hour and was ready to go on longer. An experienced woman would have come all over by now, and any virgin would be at least pleased and grateful.
He kept asking me to continue, because it just could not happen that his skills remained not appreciated. But I insisted and he let me go grumbling unhappily.
Despite the late hour, I did not stay at his flat, but rushed out

Masha V.   view profile 

After my first 'love affair' with Uzbek, I thought I was done with sex forever. Luckily it was not so. But my second attempt happened months after. No matter how banal, but my first real lover was my boss at work. 'Boss and secretary' - is there something more of a common place?

I took liking in my new boss immediately. An interesting man of about 40, most girls of my age would think him too old. But I liked him. I liked the way he treated me, almost as his equal, with great sense of humor. I have practically never felt any age difference with him.
I know a lot of girls look at the younger guys only, preferably with big muscles, fashionably dressed and with money. Does not matter what they have in their heads (nothing, most likely), does not matter what they can do in bed (most likely nothing either). They are attracted by a younger body. But one young Uzbek was enough for me.
We took liking in each other with my new boss right from the start. At first it did not go beyond the frameworks of decency, we were just comfortable working together. At first I helped him to get the hang of things. I helped him to prepare a few documents that were appreciated by the top management.
We worked together and enjoyed our success together. He kissed me on the chick several times out of the fullness of the heart, gave me a hug. I liked it! He pleasantly smelled of good cologne. The smell was just great. Sometimes I would deliberately come closer to him, bend over some papers and inhale the smell.
And doing that I enjoy pressing my shoulder or thigh to his side. He would not step aside; sometimes it seemed he even moved closer to me. That made me happy. Seemed we understood each other outside business too.
In general 'office affair' gives a lot of inspiration. Work becomes more interesting, not so boring and tiresome. So, one day when I was standing inclined by his side, I felt his hand gently touched my knee. I pretended I did not notice. Then his hand crawled upward, caressing my inner thigh and stopped when reached my pussy.
I continued mumbling something mechanically, but my body was already weak, like long time ago. Only this hand was much more experienced. With one adroit movement, my panties were pulled aside and his fingers, having opened 'the shell' were studying my entire secret inside anatomy.
Probably, I was supposed to feel embarrassed, but I felt no embarrassment at all. Only pleasure and weakness that made me lean on the desk with both hands. And the growing desire to open myself more and offer myself to those magical hands.
Literary in a few minutes after he started caressing my clit, he brought me to the state of sheer ecstasy. I also remember that I could not get a silly happy smile off my face. I had a feeling that my pussy had been pining for sex and was opening now, keenly absorbing lover's caress. It did not end in orgasm, but was the beginning of my first real love affair.
At the end of the day, we, without arranging it, stayed at work and repeated the procedure, but went further. That time we were facing each other. I was wearing a skirt only, but no panties, and gave myself to his caress completely, when I felt his hand touching my head and pushing it down. Not a word was said, but I understood what he wanted exactly. Did not have a slightest doubt. I gave him an excellent blowjob, although had never done that before in my life.
There was no prejudice or aversion whatsoever. On the contrary, the smell of his sperm, good tobacco and expensive perfume merged in an awfully exciting mix. My smell mixed with it too - because of the wild excitement, I became wet for the first time in my life.
But that was not orgasm yet. I understand now how lucky I was that my lover-boss did not precipitate things. For several days we had nothing but petting and oral sex. That emancipated me, because after the Uzbek story I was really afraid of penetration. But since I was not facing that threat, I was able to fully relax.
As a result, I had my first orgasm when I was sitting in front of my boss at the edge of the desk, and he skillfully masturbated me. And later came penetration. It only added strength to the sensations. But that is a different story.
So, the conclusion is as follows. One mature experienced man, who knows how to please a woma

Nika R.   view profile 

I experienced the first desire to have sex already after I had lost my virginity. It was true love and it was mutual. Strange, but sometimes when you are in love you become awfully shy to express your emotions.

That what exactly the case, we would walk all day long with my beloved, look at each other with rhapsodical eyes, but talked of absolutely different things. Neither he, nor me dared to talk of 'feeling' or, God forbid, sex. Although, we both were already sexually active at that time.
So, in such a state we were sitting on a bench on the boulevard, talking about some book, and I was looking at him and 'melting'. I was looking at his hands, his hair, neck, inhaling his smell, and wanted him like crazy. Really wanted, to the point of cramps and pain in my belly. But I could only watch and listen. Or, to be exact, I pretended to listed, because all I was able to think of was he, his body and intimacy with him.
My answers became more and more absentminded, and he, seeing that I was not really following, stopped talking perplexed. There was awkward silence, we were looking each other in the eyes. The look of his was rolling and pitching me like a boat on waves. And here I heard somebody saying in a hoarse voice: 'Fuck me!' Only in a few seconds did I realized that I said it myself. His response was his huge dumbfounded grey eyes. He only asked: 'Are you sure?' I could only nod my head (I felt awfully embarrassed).
It was noon. Summer, heat, Petersburg's fuss all around. We were in the middle of the city. He stood up and went to search for 'a place'. In about fifteen minutes he was back, took me by the hand and lead into the depth of lanes and courtyards. We went into the entrance of some old building, and settled under the stairway, among the piles of trash on the floor. Not the best sanctuary, but we did not care.

I pulled my panties down, he unbuttoned his pants. He entered me from behind, easy and confidently. Though, there could not be any difficulties whatsoever, I had been fully 'ready' an hour ago. Sex gave me incredible joy, I wished it never ended. For the first time I was moaning with pleasure (good thing nobody was passing the stairs at the time).
This was how, in unsanitary conditions, under the stairs, even before the first kiss, occurred the act of our love. But I was happy! Love does not depend on schedule, but on the feelings!

Nika R.   view profile 

It was silly how I lost my virginity. There was a period in my life when I began to acutely realize myself as a women. A desire to grow up right there and then, heated up by far-fetched images of what I should be, peer pressure, the need to be no worse then anyone else made me do silly things.

I pierced my ears and belly button then, even tried pills and marijuana... In general, I did things, as I understand it now, I could have easily done without. The above pertains to my virginity as well. Virginity was a drawback, which I had to get rid of. Although I did not have a boyfriend yet.
My complaints about the matter were heard by one of my friends and she suggested to help me out. She knew a guy whose services had been claimed by a few of her friends, including herself as well. I was given the best of recommendations - 'painless, neat, hygienic and free of consequences'. Everything used to be simple at that age. A few phone calls exchanged, appointments set, up and out. The whole 'deal' cost me a bottle of exotic Martini (which we finished off together 'for anesthesia').

The guy turned out to be ok, he was fun, definitely 'one of us', I even liked him. We came together with my girlfriend and started with Martini, as I said. The atmosphere was relaxed and easy, we joked a lot, chaffed at each other about the 'forthcoming event'. Our attitude was as that to a simple everyday occurrence, like another ear piercing. When 'anesthetics' came into effect, we went with the guy first to the bathroom then to the room. My girlfriend waited in the kitchen.
Everything was plain and ordinary. The guy stretched a towel under me, not to stain the bed sheets, settled himself on top of me, and was down to business. There was no foreplay whatsoever - who needed it, why should two strangers be caressing each other? But he must have been experienced enough indeed, and seemed to be using some kind of a lotion, because the process of my defloration and 'entering the body' went impeccably.

Of course I could not have missed the chance of seeing my own defloration with my own eyes, so I did not play a proper bride and, having risen myself on my elbows, fixed my eyes on the junction spot between my legs and watched the show. There was no pleasant feeling, and I did not expect any, because I heard that nothing good happens first time.
But, what surprised me pleasantly, the guy turned out to be an exceptional gentleman. He just 'broke' me and almost immediately withdrew, having made sure everything was done the way it should. He did not torture me with his frictions either physically or morally.
Only thing - he went to the bathroom to wash the blood off and asked me and my friend to help him come. My friend was a well known master of blowjob, I helped her with my hands and think that the guy was really pleased - we did our best. They congratulated me mockingly, the guy said we two were 'milk sisters' now. We liked the joke a lot, and called each other that for a long time after. It all turned out to be fun and cute. Let's say the evening was a success. By the way, I still feel good towards that guy, although he has long since left my 'field of vision'.
I do not know, but I do not feel any remorse about loosing my virginity in such a way. On the contrary. Remembering my first sex with the guy I really loved, I doubt that it could happen at all if I had been a virgin.
By the way, my boyfriend never asked me this question - when and how I lost my virginity. It never interested him.

Ira L.   view profile 

An awful thing happened to me once. I had a new boyfriend, we just started having sex. He was not too tall, and rather bashful. But I loved him and it all happened naturally. We did not have much chance to see each other alone, so quite often we made love in entrance ways to blocks of flats.

Late at night we would choose a porch with light bulbs broken (or possibly Sasha unscrewed them beforehand) and settle at the landing between floors by the windowsill. I would stand up facing the window for Sasha to enter me from behind. When somebody started walking up or down the stairs, I would draw myself up and we pretended Sasha was just hugging me. It was hardly possible to tell in the dark that my skirt was up.

That night as soon as we got to it, a door slammed on the top floor and a man started coming down the stairs. But he did not passed us by and stopped. I half turned, looked over my shoulder and recognized him in the dim light coming from the window. That was a huge guy about 40 years old, everybody was afraid of in the neighborhood. I knew he was in jail a few times. He did not go, just stood by and breathed loudly, his puffing becoming louder every minute. He reeked of alcohol strongly. I became scared. Suddenly he moved his arm and Sasha flew to the wall like a bit of fluff.
The man took his place and with one hand bent me forward with such strength that I hit my face against the sill. He pressed me so hard I could not move. With his other hand he pulled up my skirt and having noticed that my panties were already down, started feeling my perineum from behind. I tried to press my legs together, but that was impossible - his hand was huge and terribly strong.
Sasha was scared to death, all he could do was standing in the distance and begging: 'Please stop, please don?t, mister!' When he would come too close, the guy would throw him aside like a kitten and continue feeling me between my legs, then he dipped his fingers in my pussy. I started to cry, but he paid no attention to it and went on doing what he was doing.

Soon I felt something huge forcing its way into me, tearing me apart. I was terrified and started sobbing. Sasha also began crying and even tried to push the man, but the guy fanned him off like a fly.
The nightmare lasted for about 10-15 minutes. The guy took his time fucking me as Sasha watched, and I, pressed tight against the window sill, could not move, just sobbed. Nobody of the neighbors went out. Either did not hear or would not risk. When he finally came inside me, he just let go of me, zipped him pants and was gone. He never even said a word during all that time. Just came, fucked me and went.
I lay prone flat on the sill. Sasha was fussing around, asking me something, I could not talk. In silence I somehow made it home.
We stopped seeing each other with Sasha after that, just could not look each other in the eye. I saw that man occasionally after, always tried to avoid him. But he did not seem to recognize me anyway. He did not care much who he had fucked on the stairway. I got over it in a while. But strange things started to happen to me many years after.
Sometimes I feel like being abused. I remember what happened then as a nightmare, but those memories excite me against my will. Once in a while I start playing 'you are not getting it' games with my husband wanting him to take me by force.
And that rough, painful sex sometimes gives me more pleasure than most refined caress?

Polina U.   view profile 

I remember my first sexual (not love or romantic) sensation very well. The circumstances were rather unusual.
It was in a Young Pioneer camp, a few years ago. Accidentally I overheard the boys from our detachment talking. They were talking about going to the bathhouse to spy on us girls (it was girls' bath day that day).

They elaborated on their plan very carefully - how they would get a ladder, get to the attic beforehand, pull the ladder up after them, close the attic door behind them tightly and would be watching us through the crack in the ceiling. They argued. Two of them advocated the idea actively, the other two were afraid of getting caught, and were trying to talk the first two out of it.
They did not see me, but I was afraid of being noticed, so I left quietly. I began thinking of what I had just heard. At first I was pretty indignant and felt like complaining to the detachment leader. But then I thought the situation over. What if I complained, but they would not dare to go - I would become a laughing stock as an anxious fool. If they did go, got caught and punished because of my complaint - everybody would consider me a sneak and a traitor. They were good boys basically, I was rather friendly with them myself.

I could have told my girlfriends about it, but I did not have anybody close enough there, and as for others, I was sure they would react same way as the leader. I felt sorry I did not listen to the whole of the conversation - at least I would have known what they had decided for sure.
There were 3 hours left before the bathhouse, I was restless. I did not want to be spied on. But what should I do? The boys were nowhere around. Should I go to the bathhouse and check? But if somebody saw me, how could I explain what I was doing there? Should I refuse going to the baths? But that was pretty much obligatory, so I had to give some good reasons...

So, in three hours, not having found anything I was going to the bathhouse with other girls. I threw a glance at the door of the attic as we went by. It seemed closed tightly. Although that was their plan as well.
When we got inside and undressed, I tried to settle in the most remote corner. But the whole of the room was rather open, and of course I could be seen from above as clear as anyone else. Examination of the ceiling did not make anything clear either. Well, it was pretty dark, yes, there were cracks in it... But I did not see any eyes, nobody stamped on it... At first I set on the bench, all tight, trying to bend the way that nobody was able to view me from above. If I noticed something suspicious, I would rush to the dressing room and start the noise. But everything seemed absolutely normal.

And gradually the situation started to bring up different emotions in me. I looked at the naked girls, who behaved at ease, as usual: ran around, pushed each other, poured water on each other - I understood that they could all be seen now. And I could be seen too. I mean not necessarily was, but could be. I looked at my friend who spread out on the bench and understood that she could be seen now - all of her. And if before the sight of my friend lying naked would not get me exited, now the fact that she (same as me) could be seen by the boys naked in every detail, made me gasp for breath. But at the same time I felt safe enough - after all they were not necessarily there!

I began to calm down, it seemed silly to go on sitting there all tightened up. So I started moving around the room, got some water, soaped myself, behaved naturally, but the new sensation would not go, only became stronger. Imagining looking at myself from above, I was trying to guess what exactly they could see at the moment, if they were there, and started to think how they would feel about what they saw.
Suddenly pieces of other girls' conversations I overheard at night started emerging in my head. I imagined how they looked at me from above and their 'things' started sticking out, they squeezed or played with them (I did not know exactly what they were supposed to do with their 'things', but knew that had to be touching them:)), pushing each other aside, to see better... Each of those thoughts got me more and more excited and inspired me to become more and more daring. At some stage I already wished I was seen all, just like other girls.

And I grew bolder - I lay down on my back, same way as my friend, bent my legs and spread them aside slightly so that they could see all of me (providing they were there). I felt myself as if pierced by four pairs of eyes and just basked under their looks, my imagination drawing up pictures of what there were doing while watching me.
At that moment my friend suddenly poured a basin of warm water over me, and that boosted my senses so much, that having inhaled I was just not able to let the air out. I lay there paralyzed, feeling warm streams of water running down my body caressing me wearisomely down there...
That remained my best remembered erotic experience for long time. Maybe it determined how I got my first orgasm later...

Polina U.   view profile 

I lost my virginity after we finished school. It was a very natural thing for us, because we had already known each other very well then.

With orgasm it was not that easy. I liked sex, I enjoyed it, but nothing more. I heard of orgasm, but thought it to be an exaggeration - the way it was described in books and depicted in the movies. I cannot even say that our sex was anywhere close to what I experienced on 'the bath day'. My friend wanted me (and still does) all the time, tries to use every opportunity, of which we do not have too many. Last summer we went for a walk in a suburban park. It was very warm, it was the very end of May, to be exact, there were people walking in the park. Not too many, but we passed by somebody now and then. And there he wanted me. I like it when he wants me, I played a bit, teasing him, and that got me excited too. Of course I did not mind secluding ourselves in some cozy corner of the park. Although we had never had sex outdoors before, but for him I was ready for anything!

We found such a corner with a reclined birch tree, and he wanted to undress me completely and remained in his clothes himself, only unzipped his pants. As soon as he undressed me, and made me lie on that tree, I suddenly got that feeling back, intoxicating feeling from my youth. I was naked and helpless, dozens men's eyes could have been watching me from behind the bushes!!! He was dressed (safe) and watched me naked (defenseless)! Again I had that ambiguous feeling - I could be seen, but not necessarily was, that feeling liberated and excited me, frightened and seduced.
I became gasping for breath same as years ago, relaxing sweet languor swept over me, and when He entered me and I felt his powerful thrusts inside me, hot avalanche picked me up and carried away! I started to yell irresistibly at the top of my voice and wriggle, which had never happened to me when we had sex before. Hearing my own scream and understanding that dozens of people would now come running for sure, I fell into a complete frenzy and was out of this world...

My friend got scared shitless. He tried to cover my mouth, afraid that screams would make people gather. He even did not come himself, was trying to save the situation. Picked up my clothes, tried to hide me, naked, in the bushes, tried to take me further away from the place where I started screaming. I could not care less, I was hanging in his hands like a rug doll, and while he dragged me around, I came three more times, at least, but not that strongly.

In general, we were lucky. Nobody caught us, I was eventually able to get dressed and go home. My friend did not understand what had happened, tried asking me questions. He even did not understand that I had an orgasm, he thought I just got crazy because of wine (we had drank a bit before). I did not tell him about the baths in Pioneers' camp.
I think I should. Because I did not have any orgasms since, and this is all I dream about... I understand that I need 'special' conditions. It is true when they say that everything is determined in childhood...
But how can explain it to him?... Will he be able to guess himself?..

Sonia R.   view profile 

Everybody who can remember summer vocations at the end of childhood, would agree that apart from dolls, puppies and touch-last and lots of other things, there was sex as well. One thing did not interfere with another, the secret and the obvious never really overlapped.

When my friend Natasha came back after a month in a summer camp, she told me that they had 'felt each other' with other boys and girls. I understood what she meant, but nevertheless asked her for explanation. She said they touched each other everywhere. I asked what she meant by everywhere. She said boys touched girls' tits and pussies and they touched boys' cocks.
I began to feel hot in my vagina, I even felt my vulva a kind of twitching, as if muscles contracted. I became short of breathe, my sight grew dim and I started asking some stupid questions, just to hear her talking of the dirty and shameful. But Natasha said she had to go, that her mother was going to Moscow that night and I could come to her place and we could watch TV together.
Despite the fact that the interesting topic was closed, I somehow understood that it was to be continued (or maybe I was just hoping it would). We watched TV for a while at her place. I already began to think that nothing was going to happen, when she took a rug and spread it out under the big round table, covered with a hanging table-cloth, making a sort of intimate closet out of it.

We got under the table and started giggling there. Natasha started tickling me, touched my breasts several times, and tried to raise my skirt. Under different circumstances I would have asked her if she had gone mad, but I did not say anything then. Then she said: 'Show me what your tits look like.' I asked her to show me hers first, we wrangled for a while, but eventually I pulled my T-shirt up and shown her. She pulled up hers then, then took it off completely, then made me take off mine.
We set against each other looking at each others breasts. I still remember her breasts very well: pretty big even for her age, very resilient looking, white skin and big dark circles around the nipples. She started stroking herself, then pinching at her nipples, then took hold of her nipples and shook her breasts. We were both breathing heavily. I was waiting for us to start 'feeling each other', i.e. for her to start touching me.
She made me lie on my back and started working up my breasts, pitching at my nipples with her thumb and forefinger. My pussy was twitching and contracting, I thought I was going to pee myself, I was gasping for breath, Natasha's face was all red too. 'Are you horny?' she asked. 'I do not know' I answered. She took everything off, so did I. Her pubic hair was fair, mine was dark, we spread out legs and started rubbing each other with our pussies.

Then she asked me to suck her tits. I began to suck squeezing my hand between my legs. She ordered me to suck harder. I lost my head completely and asked her to suck me too. She began doing so, biting my nipples a little bit. I felt something pouring out of my vagina. At first I thought my periods started all of a sudden, but then looked at my hand, the liquid was limpid.
Then Natasha put her hand between my legs and started tapping on my clit lightly (I had not heard the word clit yet then). I heard a champing sound because I was all wet down there. She moistened my ass with my pussy juices. Then she started rubbing me there slowly inserting her finger in me.
I asked her not to do it, because I thought it embarrassing, but she would not stop. Then she stuck her finger deep down my ass and made several strong movements inside me. 'This is how Mishka will fuck you, but not in here' - she said - 'Let me show you how.' She ran to the kitchen and brought a cucumber. Then she lay down on her back and started stroking her clit, then raised her legs up in the air and inserted the cucumber between her legs. She was moving the cucumber in and out with one hand while rubbing her clit rhythmically with another.

Her eyes became glassy, face was red, she breathed heavily, almost shouting - Aaaaah! I understood that that was it - I did not know exactly what but was ready to yell along with her. Suddenly she made a wry face, then became soft, pulled the cucumber out and put it on the rug. I felt a sharp smell coming from the cucumber and another metallic smell mixed with it. I thought Natasha was going to insert the cucumber in me now, but she was tired and did not feel like continuing.
Actually, I did not know that defloration meant breaking of a hymen and was accompanied by bleeding. To tell the truth, I did not know that something was supposed to break there at all. I thought virginity can be lost only having sex with a man.
After that occasion I began to touch and caress myself regularly - pinched at my nipples and rubbed my clit. I figured out soon that this had to be done fast and with good rhythm, but it took me some time to reach orgasm though?

Sonia R.   view profile 

I heard somebody saying that real sex and dignity are incompatible. I think there is something to it. Usually when you are young, sex is preceded by love, romantic relations, and not too many girls are able to allow themselves to relax and let go. They think of how to look better, behave proper, etc.

I lost virginity when I was 18 and a half years old with a man who was over 40. I will tell you everything in detail, because I think that details are all that matter, they allow analyzing one's behavior and sensations during sex.
It happened in summer (long live summer!). I had a boyfriend and we 'dated' - kissed and I allowed him to take my breast in his hand, no more. Not because I was so prudish, but because I was a virgin, and was embarrassed to tell him that. I was hoping that I would be able to last until the end of summer somehow, we would part and everything would be ok, I would loose my virginity somehow, survive the embarrassment in the form of blood on the sheets and would be able to demonstrate what I had learned a year after. But everything happened differently.
Once I walked with my camera far from the village I was staying at, almost as far as the next train station, and met a family couple that lived in the area. They were both about 40, very nice people. I will skip the details of our acquaintance - this is not important. They invited me in, showed their garden, and saw me back to the station after, asked me to come see them any time, only I should not walk, but take a train. I visited them a few times after, they invited me to stay overnight sometime.
So, once I told my grandmother that I was going to visit my friend in Moscow and stay overnight at her place, but went to see Lena and her husband Zhenia instead. And naturally, just like in a porn movie without a plot, that very day Lena's holiday was over and she left for Moscow, I did not even see her. I swear I am telling the truth!

So we set with Zhenia a little bit, his neighbor dropped by, they talked about apples and something else, we had a little home-made black ashberry wine, and I began getting ready for the train back. Since it was already dark, Zhenia said he would see me off to the station, so the neighbor left quickly. But as soon as he left, Zhenia changed his plans, said that I was not going home, and should stay overnight, since that had been the original intention.
It was about midnight already, everybody went to bed in the village, it was getting cool - middle of August, we set on the porch and talked of nothing in particular. He said that a girl like me should be having a lot of admirers and a good lover. I was embarrassed, even scared a bit, and answered abruptly that I did not have any lovers.
He moved closer to me, gave me a hug and asked to take no offence. He was embracing my shoulders with one hand, while his other hand crept under my sweater and stopped at my breast. I shrugged and tried to break free, but he would not let me. Said he was not touching the breast, was he? I said no, but his hand was exactly holding my breast.

Zhenia turned me slowly to face him and started to kiss. I was so nervous, that my body grew as soft as cotton wool. I felt blood pulsating in my heart and between my legs. I realized that it was going to happen that day and made no more attempts to break free. He touched me, kissed and asked if I was a virgin. I said yes. He put my hand on his lap, so I felt his hard cock. Then he pulled his pants and underpants down to his knees and set on the bench with his bare ass. He made me take his cock in my hand and said: 'With this cock I am going to break you tonight. Do you agree?' I said I did.
We got back to the house from the porch carefully, so that the neighbor would not hear. Inside the house without turning the lights on he started undressing me, I struggled a bit. Finally naked, I headed upstairs covering myself with my clothes. There he turned on the lights and undressed himself. We lay down on the bed and he started talking to me about sex, he asked me to calm down and relax all the time.

Then he told me how he had deflowered his wife Lena, and how she loved sex, started telling me everything in detail, so I finally began to relax and started to feel desire gradually. He asked me if I played with myself, I said no. He said I was lying and asked me to show how I did it. I began to masturbate, got very horny, but he stopped me, made me go down on all fours and started licking me from behind.
I began to moan already, then he made me lie on my back, spread my legs, began kissing me and asked if I was ready. I said I was. Then he entered me. His cock seemed so thick to me, he held me tight, as if having nailed to the bed. Zhenia started moving inside me, I was very aroused, but was a bit embarrassed to moan. Then I thought that I would never see him again, so there was nothing to be embarrassed of.
It hurt a little bit, but the pain only added to my excitement. He went on with his frictions for a long time, then he understood I was not going to have an orgasm, and told me to help myself. I told him I could not, but he said he wanted to see my orgasm. I started picking at my nipples, rubbing my clit, and moaned loudly when he entered me deeper. Then he started circular movements with his pelvis, and I nearly lost my mind. I felt orgasm approaching.

When I masturbate at home, sometimes I start whispering to myself involuntary; 'Now, now'. And then I started saying it too. He encouraged me: 'Yes, yes my girl, come, come good now?' Then I had orgasm and moaned: 'Yes, yes, this is it!' - he also came with me and moaned in a high voice.
Next morning he saw me off to the station through the back and beyond and said he would be upset if I did not come to see him again. I asked him not to tell his wife anything. He said he was not suicidal. I came to his dacha 3 more times after that and we also met in Moscow a few times.
I felt good with him, because I could allow myself everything with him. He did not have my address, so we could stop our relations at any time and I was not afraid that he would tell anybody about them.