babswants2
03-25-2009, 04:15 PM
I consider myself a fortunate one. It was at an early time in my life that I learned the difference between passionate sex and sexual passion. At least for me, I define the two differently. I developed a strong curiosity for sex early on in life with wonderment about the differences in how boys and girls look in the buff. How the human body develops physically seemed to fascinate me. Even though I knew clothes could fool the eye, at an early age I was in constant observance of my friends as they began to change in shape taking on different lines than my own. So it was no wonder that discovering boys are not all made alike (thank goodness for that) and witnessing how they respond to physical stimulation just gave me such an incredible high. But, using the discovery of my own bodily senses to discern the many possibilities of deriving personal pleasure came a few years later as I allowed myself to be mentored by a young man 12+ years my elder.
I was 19, but soon to be 20 when I met Steve; he was 32. At my age then, I was still naïve about quality when it came to sex. You know how it is when we want to believe that we know it all; have seen it all? Well even though I had definite ideas about those things that turned me on, I discovered through an extremely well versed older guy that I really didn’t know too much about all there was that could light my inner fires. Steve was nice looking, not great looking, was blonde where I preferred dark haired boys, well built in muscular stature but short in height, so he wasn’t what I would classify today as my dream guy but he had something different; maturity. He had been married and divorced, been through combat in an unpopular war, walked the streets among the unemployed, and still was determined enough in life to obtain two collegiate degree’s all this occurring in a matter of a dozen years or so. Amazing really when you consider it!
I was engaged and completely innocent to life in general when I first came to know Steve. And even though he wasn’t directly involved, he probably was the single biggest influence that pushed me to end an engagement to marriage that I wasn’t ready for at such a young age. Steve was introduced to me one evening by a friend of a friend at a local college hang out. We shared a couple of beers that evening talking, “a lot about life and a little about love” to quote a favorite song of mine. It was guiltless at first until late into the evening I began to realize, I was becoming attracted to him. Then I became rather culpable about my personal situation of being in a supposed devoted relationship with someone I probably really didn’t love.
After that night, it took me a good three months to finally tell my fiancé that I just couldn’t entrust my life to only one person at twenty (my birthday had come and gone). Incredibly it took him less than a week to let me know he didn’t want to see me anymore if I didn’t want him as a husband. To avoid a messy next school year (he was a star athlete) I made the decision to transfer schools; we were both attending a small college in Kansas. I did so at the end of the spring semester. To make up for lost credits in the transfer and with the help of my parents, I took a small apartment above a drugstore located across from the campus of the institution where I transferred. Enrolling in summer classes was the easy part; beginning to grow up in life was the challenge.
It was then I let Steve know I was free and would enjoy hearing from him if he had interest. It wasn’t until later in the summer that I heard from Steve. But he did follow up, and it didn’t surprise me when he told me that he wanted to be sure I had allowed my past relationship to take it’s needed leave from my life.
It would be easy to write a novel here but I’ll relate to occurrences that took place as best as I can recollect. It’s easy to fabricate when if comes to excitement that has transpired in a fond memory. Seems like as we want to re-live that special time, it just gets better and better each time we reminisce. But then hey, isn’t that what makes awesome memories awesome. Steve became my mentor into extraordinary sexual enjoyment. Through his own experiences and uninhibited manner, with tender affection he directed me into a world of passion, admittedly with some obsession, but always with gratification being on the forefront of both our minds.
Here I should probably make reference to an idiosyncrasy of mine. I don’t refer to making love when it comes to sexual interaction with anyone, unless the person I am interacting with is the person I am in love with and is the soul mate of my life. However, I also feel strongly that I can enjoy pleasurable physical experiences with other people separate from the person I have choose to live with. Perhaps the phrase used today is “swinging”. But, it is me, I am comfortable with who I have become and most importantly do not try to impress my feelings onto others. The first night Steve and I enjoyed each other; he shed a light for me in how to utilize my body’s senses to go beyond just genital sex. We were never in love, so we didn’t make love, but we did become sexual companions beginning that night.
One of the first adjustments he directed me in was how to vocalize using words and phrases that broke down hang-ups. For instance, though I enjoyed having my clitoris paid attention to I found it difficult to use the correct physio- medical terms for female genatalia. You know, that V word – vagina just was something I would stutter in trying to get out. My clitoris (clit) wasn’t any easier. I could use slang easy enough. The typical “my pussy” was my reference to everywhere from my pubis to my anus. Geez, I was so ignorant now that I think about it. So much for Family Living classes. I know, I know, we all do, because that’s the American metaphor for the most principal female body part holding the intense interest from the opposite sex, ha! Steve taught me to not just use words in the heat of the moment but to ask for what I desired. To solicit for the touching of my clit, my vagina, my anus; to probe inside or stroke externally the labial area with ease and comfort, to caress my breasts all became as much a part of my vocabulary as was the request to have my backed rubbed, my ears nibbled and so forth. Now I am literal where as before I was rough.
I also found it hot to watch guy’s eyes as they ogle me lustfully when I remove my clothing. I am an exhibitionist at heart, knew it back then, but didn’t really know how to use my fascination for the attention to my advantage. Steve helped me here as well. He taught me to tease, taunt, and tantalize; the Three T’s as he put it. I don’t exactly spill over in the cleavage department and until Steve; guys would view me more as having a “still developing chest” verses perkiness in my pectoral region as he would say. I remember Steve telling me, “Take your time removing your top, touch yourself, and let me know you like with the way your breasts look”. Steve used the word boobs jokingly but breasts when he wanted me to feel special.
It was a couple of dinner dates and the movies, before we got around to the “should we or shouldn’t we”, dialogue. I wanted it, no question! I was intent on reintroducing my self to something beyond my index finger and thumb. And this man turned me on big time. I remember the disappointment when Steve told me that his reasoning for hedging on our playing “in the sheets” was that he had no intention of having a serious relationship with anyone, at least not at that time. He explained his divorce. His ex-wife was really upset when he enlisted in the service. Her threat to not wait for sex panned out. She was young, horny, and didn’t feel it fair to make sex a game of wanting and waiting. It seemed that she surged through the field of eligible young men at home and when Steve was back in the states on leave, she filed for divorce. Through his heartbreak and wonderment of what happened he settled in on an altered philosophy in life. He came to believe perhaps he was the selfish one expecting her to remain true while he was away for so long of periods at a time with his life endangered. His rationale was that if it were he, he probably wouldn’t have stayed faithful either. Nonetheless, his position with me was he would enjoy the sex, but couldn’t have me expect that I would be his only sexual partner.
It had been five months since I had “had any”. I would consider what he was saying but not until later; like days later. That night, I just knew I wanted to have satisfaction; the days of “I Can’t Get No” needed resolution, in a hurry.
Let’s cut to the chase here, he was overwhelmingly awesome; how’s that for description. There was no rush, he was slow handed, and maintained a passion even after the neon lights cooled, (that is how I refer to an ultimate in orgasm). I know that I perhaps am embellishing again, but it had to have been incredible because I have had many orgasms’s in reminisce. I know it was beyond anything I had experienced for sure.
I’ll share some of those things in which I still masturbate while in recall. Let’s see, probably the most notable was when he took my dresser mirror off the back of my grandmothers antique dresser (she would have been happy for me) and set it on two kitchen chairs. It was the prelude to what was to come. He then stood me in front and moved behind me where he proceeded to slowly remove my clothing. He encouraged me to converse to him what I was seeing as he cuddled me casually with his deft fingers. He touched me everywhere, EVERYWHERE, not just between my legs. That was maybe the most different. He spent as much time at the nape of my neck and my ankles as he did at the cleft of my “vagina” and within. If only young men knew how important that can be to a young woman who is trying to understand her body as she steps into her Brave New World of sharing her body with someone. He kissed, suckled, tweaked, and tenderly licked my nipples. He explained that a large dark areola around the nipple was a source of excitement for him. Mine are like unmistakable; they cover half the flesh of each of my breasts. He thought it silly that they had been neglected and sometimes completely ignored in past liaisons with other guys. Vividly I remember how he brought shivers from my spine as he kissed his way down my back until he reached the dimples of my back just above my the cleft of my rear. By that time it seems that I was flooding streams of fluid from regions he was next about to explore. He used his tongue with immense skill. I remember how soft his voice was as he whispered erotic thoughts licking me along the curves of my waist. Especially I’ll not forget his telling me of his great affection for the aroma of female sexual secretions. Until that moment I would have thought “yuck”, but he actually made it sound romantic. I also recall the quiver in my legs as he was proving his lust through the gracefulness of his lips as they traced the lines of my hips and inner thighs. There were no neon lights left when he finished, they had long since over amped.
He took me orally while standing, bent me backward against my kitchen table, and placed me over the back of my sofa. Most amazing was the position he had me in with a leg over that same sofa and one draped over his shoulder. That position I remember because I admired his strength in holding me upright and mine in keeping my balance in a spread eagle position with his face buried in my nether regions. Those are the moments when you think; “thank god” I have stayed in shape. I’ve practiced acrobatics with my sexual partners every since, wonderful for the libido trust me, and try it! I love intercourse, but I discovered how wonderful it is especially after having been vaginally stimulated to the max with a super sensitive clitoris. Not that that had been par for the course in prior experiences, it wasn’t, but Steve’s abilities sure changed my attitude.
Steve undressed only after he finished bringing me to fulfillment. That was long after he had sent every nerve ending in my body through the roof. What was cool was that he still didn’t rush into his own nakedness knowing that the real deal for him was going to be a long enduring happening. I love intercourse, but I discovered how wonderful it is after having been vaginally stimulated to the max with a super sensitive clitoris. He taught me to ask for what I desired in bed from my future partners in crime. He instructed me to vocalize what I was seeing, feeling, smelling, and ultimately thinking, as he took off each bit of attire he was wearing. He didn’t move to the next piece of clothing until I described in detail all that I was sensing. The memories I rehash in my mind are so hot, no wonder I enjoy writing about these things so much, they bring back so many incredible feelings.
The anxiety that was building was excruciating but Steve wanted me to sense what was going to happen verses miss the thrill of the ride. I have to admit there was much to the male anatomy that up until this night, I was missing. I like muscle in a guy but definition was something I only thought I knew. This man had been a marine, had a gym and body toning mentality and though I preferred athletic guys, he was the epitome of physique. For a young woman use to rural America where gyms and fitness facilities were only found in what limited rooms were available to the high school athletic departments, I was amazed in how he had cut and trimmed his body differently than how I had seen in men’s bodies. He was a true bodybuilder; I had seen only lean athletes as my envisionment of great bodies.
Here was my biggest shock of that night. Keep in mind, I had only turned 20, was still pretty naïve in the ways of the world erotically, and had been only with a very limited number of guys, in any capacity. As Steve finally came to his briefs, (they were paisley – remember this was the early 80’s) he turned his back and asked me to finish removing them. Yeah, right – like I was really capable of doing that in the same fashion in which he had. My hands quivered I am sure and I am also sure he could sense my impatience, because he took my hands and stopped me from just yanking them down in a scuttle. Being female, we sometimes forget the status of guys when in the state of anticipation. I was thinking hurry, hurry and he was thinking of a bending improposition if you get my flip. No pun intended, but his erection was notable for sure. He then took my fingers and began to slide them inside to his “package”. I remember the thrill of the hunt, the “Oh my god” and then ………”what the heck”! No it wasn’t a wonderment of the size that took me by surprise, in fact Steve wasn’t that big. Very average in equation to other men I have been with in my time. What was different, again keep in mind this was 1984, was he was clean shaving, no pubic hair, how do you say it, as smooth as a baby’s butt? Another indication that I was entering into a Brave New World way beyond anything I had experienced before. A lot of what I am writing is in the “best to my recollection” rhetoric, but my immediate reaction to that moment was ‘this is freaky”. Still, true to my voyeuristic self, I had to see. I didn’t have to ask and he needed no direction. I can’t remember if it was he or I who laid him across my bed, but I do remember lying on my side and just tracing my fingers across his lower belly, down his thighs and over his scrotum where normal pubic hair would be. It took a few minutes of enjoying the wonderment of what I was seeing before I took his erection into my mouth and tried to equate the oral pleasure he had given me. The touch of bareness to my cheek and chin was so poles apart from anything I had known. And I have to admit very stimulating still today, as I prefer smooth-to-smooth when it comes to engagement of the bodies pleasure organs.
I would be lying to here telling you about fireworks through the rest of the night. They were explosive I am sure, but we all have to admit we remember only bits and pieces of the actual sex. What I seem to remember most of my sexual escapades in life are the lead up events, those tid bits that are new, unusual, or introduce me into the person I am sharing my body with. What made this night different was this was a man who took his intimate play seriously, had spent much time in thought and consideration of what he enjoyed, and was both thoughtful and selfless in how he transferred that blissful discovery to his sexual partner. Most of all I remember and more importantly journalized in my memory cache of “red book adventures”, the need to slow down and enjoy what the body can sensate each moment by moment. After that first night with Steve, the “quickies”, the “back seater’s” and the “wham bam thank you’s” would be few and far between for me.
No need to go into detail of the rest of what occurred. I’ll leave you the reader to fit in the pieces; they can be as colorful as you want them to be. I will offer this as you may read more of my adventures, it was Steve who gave me the nickname Babs – do you remember Babes in Toyland – I had so much to learn and he was very intent in teaching me. He said it was like my being in Toyland; I was such a willing participant. Thank you for taking the time to read! This is fun and I hope you enjoyed. Until next time, play well.
I was 19, but soon to be 20 when I met Steve; he was 32. At my age then, I was still naïve about quality when it came to sex. You know how it is when we want to believe that we know it all; have seen it all? Well even though I had definite ideas about those things that turned me on, I discovered through an extremely well versed older guy that I really didn’t know too much about all there was that could light my inner fires. Steve was nice looking, not great looking, was blonde where I preferred dark haired boys, well built in muscular stature but short in height, so he wasn’t what I would classify today as my dream guy but he had something different; maturity. He had been married and divorced, been through combat in an unpopular war, walked the streets among the unemployed, and still was determined enough in life to obtain two collegiate degree’s all this occurring in a matter of a dozen years or so. Amazing really when you consider it!
I was engaged and completely innocent to life in general when I first came to know Steve. And even though he wasn’t directly involved, he probably was the single biggest influence that pushed me to end an engagement to marriage that I wasn’t ready for at such a young age. Steve was introduced to me one evening by a friend of a friend at a local college hang out. We shared a couple of beers that evening talking, “a lot about life and a little about love” to quote a favorite song of mine. It was guiltless at first until late into the evening I began to realize, I was becoming attracted to him. Then I became rather culpable about my personal situation of being in a supposed devoted relationship with someone I probably really didn’t love.
After that night, it took me a good three months to finally tell my fiancé that I just couldn’t entrust my life to only one person at twenty (my birthday had come and gone). Incredibly it took him less than a week to let me know he didn’t want to see me anymore if I didn’t want him as a husband. To avoid a messy next school year (he was a star athlete) I made the decision to transfer schools; we were both attending a small college in Kansas. I did so at the end of the spring semester. To make up for lost credits in the transfer and with the help of my parents, I took a small apartment above a drugstore located across from the campus of the institution where I transferred. Enrolling in summer classes was the easy part; beginning to grow up in life was the challenge.
It was then I let Steve know I was free and would enjoy hearing from him if he had interest. It wasn’t until later in the summer that I heard from Steve. But he did follow up, and it didn’t surprise me when he told me that he wanted to be sure I had allowed my past relationship to take it’s needed leave from my life.
It would be easy to write a novel here but I’ll relate to occurrences that took place as best as I can recollect. It’s easy to fabricate when if comes to excitement that has transpired in a fond memory. Seems like as we want to re-live that special time, it just gets better and better each time we reminisce. But then hey, isn’t that what makes awesome memories awesome. Steve became my mentor into extraordinary sexual enjoyment. Through his own experiences and uninhibited manner, with tender affection he directed me into a world of passion, admittedly with some obsession, but always with gratification being on the forefront of both our minds.
Here I should probably make reference to an idiosyncrasy of mine. I don’t refer to making love when it comes to sexual interaction with anyone, unless the person I am interacting with is the person I am in love with and is the soul mate of my life. However, I also feel strongly that I can enjoy pleasurable physical experiences with other people separate from the person I have choose to live with. Perhaps the phrase used today is “swinging”. But, it is me, I am comfortable with who I have become and most importantly do not try to impress my feelings onto others. The first night Steve and I enjoyed each other; he shed a light for me in how to utilize my body’s senses to go beyond just genital sex. We were never in love, so we didn’t make love, but we did become sexual companions beginning that night.
One of the first adjustments he directed me in was how to vocalize using words and phrases that broke down hang-ups. For instance, though I enjoyed having my clitoris paid attention to I found it difficult to use the correct physio- medical terms for female genatalia. You know, that V word – vagina just was something I would stutter in trying to get out. My clitoris (clit) wasn’t any easier. I could use slang easy enough. The typical “my pussy” was my reference to everywhere from my pubis to my anus. Geez, I was so ignorant now that I think about it. So much for Family Living classes. I know, I know, we all do, because that’s the American metaphor for the most principal female body part holding the intense interest from the opposite sex, ha! Steve taught me to not just use words in the heat of the moment but to ask for what I desired. To solicit for the touching of my clit, my vagina, my anus; to probe inside or stroke externally the labial area with ease and comfort, to caress my breasts all became as much a part of my vocabulary as was the request to have my backed rubbed, my ears nibbled and so forth. Now I am literal where as before I was rough.
I also found it hot to watch guy’s eyes as they ogle me lustfully when I remove my clothing. I am an exhibitionist at heart, knew it back then, but didn’t really know how to use my fascination for the attention to my advantage. Steve helped me here as well. He taught me to tease, taunt, and tantalize; the Three T’s as he put it. I don’t exactly spill over in the cleavage department and until Steve; guys would view me more as having a “still developing chest” verses perkiness in my pectoral region as he would say. I remember Steve telling me, “Take your time removing your top, touch yourself, and let me know you like with the way your breasts look”. Steve used the word boobs jokingly but breasts when he wanted me to feel special.
It was a couple of dinner dates and the movies, before we got around to the “should we or shouldn’t we”, dialogue. I wanted it, no question! I was intent on reintroducing my self to something beyond my index finger and thumb. And this man turned me on big time. I remember the disappointment when Steve told me that his reasoning for hedging on our playing “in the sheets” was that he had no intention of having a serious relationship with anyone, at least not at that time. He explained his divorce. His ex-wife was really upset when he enlisted in the service. Her threat to not wait for sex panned out. She was young, horny, and didn’t feel it fair to make sex a game of wanting and waiting. It seemed that she surged through the field of eligible young men at home and when Steve was back in the states on leave, she filed for divorce. Through his heartbreak and wonderment of what happened he settled in on an altered philosophy in life. He came to believe perhaps he was the selfish one expecting her to remain true while he was away for so long of periods at a time with his life endangered. His rationale was that if it were he, he probably wouldn’t have stayed faithful either. Nonetheless, his position with me was he would enjoy the sex, but couldn’t have me expect that I would be his only sexual partner.
It had been five months since I had “had any”. I would consider what he was saying but not until later; like days later. That night, I just knew I wanted to have satisfaction; the days of “I Can’t Get No” needed resolution, in a hurry.
Let’s cut to the chase here, he was overwhelmingly awesome; how’s that for description. There was no rush, he was slow handed, and maintained a passion even after the neon lights cooled, (that is how I refer to an ultimate in orgasm). I know that I perhaps am embellishing again, but it had to have been incredible because I have had many orgasms’s in reminisce. I know it was beyond anything I had experienced for sure.
I’ll share some of those things in which I still masturbate while in recall. Let’s see, probably the most notable was when he took my dresser mirror off the back of my grandmothers antique dresser (she would have been happy for me) and set it on two kitchen chairs. It was the prelude to what was to come. He then stood me in front and moved behind me where he proceeded to slowly remove my clothing. He encouraged me to converse to him what I was seeing as he cuddled me casually with his deft fingers. He touched me everywhere, EVERYWHERE, not just between my legs. That was maybe the most different. He spent as much time at the nape of my neck and my ankles as he did at the cleft of my “vagina” and within. If only young men knew how important that can be to a young woman who is trying to understand her body as she steps into her Brave New World of sharing her body with someone. He kissed, suckled, tweaked, and tenderly licked my nipples. He explained that a large dark areola around the nipple was a source of excitement for him. Mine are like unmistakable; they cover half the flesh of each of my breasts. He thought it silly that they had been neglected and sometimes completely ignored in past liaisons with other guys. Vividly I remember how he brought shivers from my spine as he kissed his way down my back until he reached the dimples of my back just above my the cleft of my rear. By that time it seems that I was flooding streams of fluid from regions he was next about to explore. He used his tongue with immense skill. I remember how soft his voice was as he whispered erotic thoughts licking me along the curves of my waist. Especially I’ll not forget his telling me of his great affection for the aroma of female sexual secretions. Until that moment I would have thought “yuck”, but he actually made it sound romantic. I also recall the quiver in my legs as he was proving his lust through the gracefulness of his lips as they traced the lines of my hips and inner thighs. There were no neon lights left when he finished, they had long since over amped.
He took me orally while standing, bent me backward against my kitchen table, and placed me over the back of my sofa. Most amazing was the position he had me in with a leg over that same sofa and one draped over his shoulder. That position I remember because I admired his strength in holding me upright and mine in keeping my balance in a spread eagle position with his face buried in my nether regions. Those are the moments when you think; “thank god” I have stayed in shape. I’ve practiced acrobatics with my sexual partners every since, wonderful for the libido trust me, and try it! I love intercourse, but I discovered how wonderful it is especially after having been vaginally stimulated to the max with a super sensitive clitoris. Not that that had been par for the course in prior experiences, it wasn’t, but Steve’s abilities sure changed my attitude.
Steve undressed only after he finished bringing me to fulfillment. That was long after he had sent every nerve ending in my body through the roof. What was cool was that he still didn’t rush into his own nakedness knowing that the real deal for him was going to be a long enduring happening. I love intercourse, but I discovered how wonderful it is after having been vaginally stimulated to the max with a super sensitive clitoris. He taught me to ask for what I desired in bed from my future partners in crime. He instructed me to vocalize what I was seeing, feeling, smelling, and ultimately thinking, as he took off each bit of attire he was wearing. He didn’t move to the next piece of clothing until I described in detail all that I was sensing. The memories I rehash in my mind are so hot, no wonder I enjoy writing about these things so much, they bring back so many incredible feelings.
The anxiety that was building was excruciating but Steve wanted me to sense what was going to happen verses miss the thrill of the ride. I have to admit there was much to the male anatomy that up until this night, I was missing. I like muscle in a guy but definition was something I only thought I knew. This man had been a marine, had a gym and body toning mentality and though I preferred athletic guys, he was the epitome of physique. For a young woman use to rural America where gyms and fitness facilities were only found in what limited rooms were available to the high school athletic departments, I was amazed in how he had cut and trimmed his body differently than how I had seen in men’s bodies. He was a true bodybuilder; I had seen only lean athletes as my envisionment of great bodies.
Here was my biggest shock of that night. Keep in mind, I had only turned 20, was still pretty naïve in the ways of the world erotically, and had been only with a very limited number of guys, in any capacity. As Steve finally came to his briefs, (they were paisley – remember this was the early 80’s) he turned his back and asked me to finish removing them. Yeah, right – like I was really capable of doing that in the same fashion in which he had. My hands quivered I am sure and I am also sure he could sense my impatience, because he took my hands and stopped me from just yanking them down in a scuttle. Being female, we sometimes forget the status of guys when in the state of anticipation. I was thinking hurry, hurry and he was thinking of a bending improposition if you get my flip. No pun intended, but his erection was notable for sure. He then took my fingers and began to slide them inside to his “package”. I remember the thrill of the hunt, the “Oh my god” and then ………”what the heck”! No it wasn’t a wonderment of the size that took me by surprise, in fact Steve wasn’t that big. Very average in equation to other men I have been with in my time. What was different, again keep in mind this was 1984, was he was clean shaving, no pubic hair, how do you say it, as smooth as a baby’s butt? Another indication that I was entering into a Brave New World way beyond anything I had experienced before. A lot of what I am writing is in the “best to my recollection” rhetoric, but my immediate reaction to that moment was ‘this is freaky”. Still, true to my voyeuristic self, I had to see. I didn’t have to ask and he needed no direction. I can’t remember if it was he or I who laid him across my bed, but I do remember lying on my side and just tracing my fingers across his lower belly, down his thighs and over his scrotum where normal pubic hair would be. It took a few minutes of enjoying the wonderment of what I was seeing before I took his erection into my mouth and tried to equate the oral pleasure he had given me. The touch of bareness to my cheek and chin was so poles apart from anything I had known. And I have to admit very stimulating still today, as I prefer smooth-to-smooth when it comes to engagement of the bodies pleasure organs.
I would be lying to here telling you about fireworks through the rest of the night. They were explosive I am sure, but we all have to admit we remember only bits and pieces of the actual sex. What I seem to remember most of my sexual escapades in life are the lead up events, those tid bits that are new, unusual, or introduce me into the person I am sharing my body with. What made this night different was this was a man who took his intimate play seriously, had spent much time in thought and consideration of what he enjoyed, and was both thoughtful and selfless in how he transferred that blissful discovery to his sexual partner. Most of all I remember and more importantly journalized in my memory cache of “red book adventures”, the need to slow down and enjoy what the body can sensate each moment by moment. After that first night with Steve, the “quickies”, the “back seater’s” and the “wham bam thank you’s” would be few and far between for me.
No need to go into detail of the rest of what occurred. I’ll leave you the reader to fit in the pieces; they can be as colorful as you want them to be. I will offer this as you may read more of my adventures, it was Steve who gave me the nickname Babs – do you remember Babes in Toyland – I had so much to learn and he was very intent in teaching me. He said it was like my being in Toyland; I was such a willing participant. Thank you for taking the time to read! This is fun and I hope you enjoyed. Until next time, play well.