First time Naked
Back then, I was new to dormitory life. I'd deliberately stayed in residence the first two weeks getting to know some of the other girls and trying to fit in. I had not been back home to see my boyfriend Ken in that time and my hormones were in high gear.
Almost every night I'd touch myself while thinking about him. It let me sleep but did not sate the craving to be hands-on. I would visualize the fumblings that took place in his parent's basement where we used to make out, never quite passing third base to score a run.
Each date we had gone further and further. We were still exploring where my boundaries were. I knew he had none. Push and pull. Advance and retreat. Skirmishes won, some territory lost, some fortresses defended.
Down in the dark basement, I often straddled him on the couch while wearing a short skirt. I would grind my panties against his hardness while kissing him -- long, deep kisses. Very wet and eager tongues -- both of ours. The last time we'd been like this my blouse was open and he had his hands under my bra -- pushing it above my breasts. It was exciting to feel exposed and know his eyes were taking me in. When be brought his mouth to my breast, it was electric. I was on such a fine edge and the feel of my panties against the jean-clad outline of his hard cock tipped me over. I came and tried not to make it obvious but I'm sure Ken knew. He understood some of the insincerity in my struggles.
He reached for my hand and tried to place it in his crotch. I was tempted -- curious for sure -- and partly out of gratitude for the pleasure he had just delivered. But I drew back -- close to one of the boundary lines I was not quite ready to cross.
He resumed kissing me and we rocked together once again -- me matching the pace he signaled with his hips and the heat between us grew as the friction of pussy on prick took him to his own climax inside his pants. I was happy he came. I was proud of myself -- proud that my body could stir him, proud of this developing change in me and the power I knew my body held over him and would hold over others yet to come.
My other memory of that dark basement was the sound of footsteps above, never knowing when a parent might descend to check on us. For that reason, clothes were mostly left on, and I recall my two competing desires: to want so much to feel skin against skin and to want still to retain some sense of virtue.
It was with these memories in mind, I anticipated Ken visiting me on campus for the first time. The date was a dance in the university gym that Friday night but in the back of my mind, the mental picture of my waiting room was a frequent image.
I dressed for the dance. It was a cool fall night, so I put on nude pantyhose over tiny white panties and a very short, form-fitting green dress with a zipper down the front. The dress was tight to my body, and I almost went braless but at the last minute put on a push-up that was part of the panty set. I pulled the zip down enough to highlight the way the bra brought my breasts together. I could feel the anticipation within me -- butterflies in my tummy but also a palpable need in my pussy which was warm, moist, and already on edge.
We stayed for about 90 minutes. I enjoyed the dancing. It felt good to let loose after the first weeks of study. I could tell we both enjoyed the slow dances. I pressed close against him, feeling his leg between mine and his body press back. And when we moved together, I was very aware of his large cock hardening in his jeans, as I felt a few times before. I wondered what it would look like. What would it feel like in my hand? What would it feel like filling my cunt? Yes -- I wanted him inside me.
