Reminisces Of Early Fumblings

Meeting the warden of my new retirement home in Florida, who's name was Helen, brought back memories of my first proper relationship and successful sexual encounter.

After familiarizing myself with my new surroundings, I sat in my rom and cast my mind back all those years.

Following a disastrous relationship where tales of a premature nature and an inability to satisfy a nymphomaniac, made itself public knowledge, I manfully accepted the jibes from fellow students. The first few months of my college years were were a joke.

I naturally felt sorry for myself for the requisite amount of time until everybody had forgotten about my indiscretion. I then fortuitously met Helen who became my next amour.

Helen was just less than 2 months older than me regarding age, but a lifetime in almost every other area that counted as far as I was concerned. The fact that Helen had been raised on a farm with freedoms and opportunities denied to me, helped enormously. Helen's. liberal-minded parents who trusted all of their six daughters implicitly, gave her the wisdom and experimentation she had obviously experienced.

Having turned 18 just 6 months previously, Helen had just started her first year at the same college as me, Dillard College in New Orleans. I had left the stifling atmosphere of an Irish/Catholic abusive family, with eight siblings, to study biology at Dillard. Spreading her wings, Helen had opted for a psychology major.

The all-year-round clement weather made it almost inevitable that we would form some sort of intense physical relationship, eventually.

It wasn't just that Helen was extremely good looking to me. She had a nice tight pixie haircut, showing off her copper/red hair, sparkling blue eyes, and permanent grin.

The trend above anything else in those days (mid-70s), much like now, was the desperation to be in a girlfriend/boyfriend relationship (or any kind of relationship). Loneliness or independence was, and still is heavily frowned upon, and to be avoided at all costs.

I couldn't have imagined though, what a significant part Helen was to play in my introduction to the furtherance of the pleasures of sexual gratification.

As corny as it sounds, we first met in the library. It was undoubtedly physical attraction -- lust at first sight. There was nobody to compare to this beauty in my eyes. When it first came to initial verbal communication, Helen's confident Nashville drawl made my self-conscious New York nasal effort sound comical. I was no match for Helens verbal banter, but she was willing to try me out.

That night Helen and I walked the grounds of our new dwelling, ultimately finding ourselves in a secluded fenced off area. Helen wasted no time in inserting her tongue into my mouth, Helen then rubbed her crotch against mine rhythmically. The night was mild, which was usually the case, Helen alternately rasped each of my fingers, giving me access to her tight, hairy minge, and frigged herself unselfconsciously with them.

On occasion, Helen would loosen her bra, exposing a breast for me to be able to fondle a nipple. The result was always the same and pretty immediate. I would get a rigid stiffy.

Helen would then expose my cock to the night air and proceed to give it an expertly practiced good pounding.

On average I tended to cum relatively quickly following Helen's attentive foreplay. If I'd had a wank that morning I could sometimes last for as long as 5 minutes. Not very often though. Helen didn't seem to mind at all that I came so quickly.

Having spent my seed, I then had a 25 minute walk in which to rejuvenate myself and be ready for round two upon reaching another isolated spot, a beautiful secluded lake. Helen had discovered this concealed place on her daily walk, another of her hobbies.

The walk almost always followed a similar pattern. No reference was ever made to our warm-up bout. It was just accepted that I needed to be primed for the events that were to follow.

College, essays, lectures, music, fashion and gossip were generally the light-hearted topics of conversation that we covered as we held hands and sauntered towards 'our' place.

On reaching the spot we never wasted any time in getting down to business. Helen's grin was always the indicator that it was her turn to be satisfied, and she wasn't shy about demanding it.

I must admit I enjoyed our sessions at the lake immensely. The ritual almost always began the same way. Helen lay on her back with her eyes closed. I would remove Helen's skirt/jeans (whatever garment she wore) exposing a pair of knickers that just needed to be teased off slowly.

I knelt adjacent to this exposed area with my face close enough for Helen to feel my breath on her crotch and mercilessly did nothing except build the anticipation. When eventually I broke the spell and made contact, it was to gently slide my hand inside Helen's panties to cup her very hairy bush, and insert my little finger inside her.

This technique, which I was very proud of, was producing the desired results Helen was very wet indeed by the time I had gotten three fingers home.

All pretense at gentleness and sedentary movements were abandoned at this point. With the swift removal of her panties, in whatever moistened state, Helen's pudenda was now fully exposed.

What followed could only be described as a strenuous bout of rigorous cunnilingus. I have to admit despite the occasional feeling I might have pulled something in the vocal area, or hair and teeth sometimes getting entangled, I was only too willing to go for broke and extract the maximum amount of pleasure from the proceedings.

Helen was obviously gaining much pleasure from our ritual. This pleased me immensely. The proceedings would be interspersed with bouts of Helen wanking me or me wanking myself.

We got assail each other's bits continuously for a good few hours before it was time to make out way, tired but happy, back to campus.

Every few weeks when I could afford some condoms, I got to give Helen a good hard fuck too. She would never let me put it in her ass though.