Virgin

We met through mutual friends. Dale was awkward and made the silliest dad jokes, but damnit if he didn’t make me laugh. When I learned he was a virgin, it lit up something in me I didn’t realize I cared about. He was in his late 30s like me but had never been with a woman before. I learned through a close friend of ours that he just worked so much and didn’t give himself the time to go out and meet people. He worked as an engineer somewhere, but I didn’t care. His soft laughter and gentle manner did more for me than anything else.

“Hey Benna, do you need anything?” he’d ask while I sat with the group. He checked in on everyone this way, asking if they were comfortable or if they needed anything.

Because of this, I couldn’t figure out if I had a chance or not, so I did what I knew to do to get a man’s attention.

The low-cut outfits came out: V-neck t-shirts, tank tops, and tight dresses. While it got the attention of other men, I wasn’t sure if it was working on him.

Until one day we were all out and sitting around chatting when he glanced at my chest. When he did it a couple more times, I finally knew I was on his radar.

I began trying to sit next to him, giggling at his jokes in earnest, enjoying the way he’d chatter when he had something to say but sit quietly listening when he didn’t. I made it a point to bump into him from time to time, letting my breast brush against his arm lightly whenever I passed by or say, “Sorry” and lightly touched my hand to the area. Each interaction left me more and more flustered, especially when he would respond with, “Oh no, totally my fault. I’m always in the way.” His wide-sheepish smile made me want to kiss him from head to toe.

He wasn’t a particularly attractive guy, he was thin but a little muscular in the arms and back, and he had soft, short brown hair and pretty green eyes. He was just your average Joe, but I wanted to devour him.

I trailed behind the group one day, as we were out at an art fair, and he trailed back with me.

“You okay?” he asked, always worried someone wasn’t having a good time.

“I’m fine now,” I responded with a smile, and he glanced down at my chest before looking away.

“I’m glad.” He cleared his throat and told me his birthday was coming up.

“Any plans? With your girlfriend maybe?”

He chuckled softly, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Really?” I said, “No one special?”

He shook his head, “And no plans for a birthday. I haven’t thought about what to do.”

“We can have a small party at my place. I’d love to throw a birthday party for you.”

“Aw, you don’t have to do that,” he replied.

“Come on, I want to. Besides, none of you have been to my place yet.”

He looked over and smiled at me, and everything inside me seemed to melt.

“Sure, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

The night of the party I had everything ready. Everyone was inside, waiting for him to come in, and when he texted that he was outside, I excitedly went to meet him. I was wearing a tight forest green dress that clung to every curve of my body and lifted my breasts, displaying them elegantly but still reminding you they were there.

“Dale!” I exclaimed, swooping him into a big hug. He was warm as he hugged me back with much vigor.

“Hey, Benna.”

I looped behind him and covered his eyes, pressing my breasts against his back and feeling my nipples harden at the contact.

“What’re you doing?” he asked playfully, and I told him I wanted it all to be a surprise. I led him forward, still pressed up against him until we were at the open door.

Everyone said surprise as I dropped my hands, and the party began.

I tried to get him to dance with me, but he was always too shy. I was beginning to worry I was coming on too strongly, until toward the end of the party.

It was one in the morning and as everyone was leaving, he asked if I needed help cleaning up.

“Oh no,” I said as if this wasn’t what I had been hoping for the whole night. “This was for you; you don’t have to stay and clean.”

“I want to,” he said dismissively, and I nodded.

After cleaning up, it was now really late.

“I guess I should go?” he said, more of a question than a statement.

I knew what he was asking, and a flame lit up inside of me.

“Or you could stay,” I said coyly.

I sat down on my couch and patted the cushion next to me. He sat and gulped, sweating a little from more than just the cleaning.

“I’m not going to eat you,” I said, giggling and this seemed to make him swallow a lump in his throat.

“Benna, I have a confession to make.”

“What is it?” I said, a little breathlessly.

“I really like you,” he said timidly, ‘But I’ve never been with a woman before.”

“Not once?” My breathing was a little faster now.

He shook his head, “I’ve never been good at this. I’m not even sure I’ll be any good.”

I took his hand in mine, gently, “Dale, I like you, too. We don’t have to rush anything if you don’t want to.”

He looked me in the eyes then, a hard stare that made my breath catch in my throat. “It’s not that. I’m just a little afraid.”

“That’s okay. I’m always a little afraid myself.” I glanced at his mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

He nodded and stared at me as I came closer, pressing my lips to his. They were soft and tasted slightly of rum.

“Was that okay?” I asked.

Instead of responding, he nodded and looped his hand behind my head, pulling me closer again. We kissed some more, and he finally opened his mouth, so that our tongues met a little. I moaned softly in response, and he hungrily kissed me. He began to trail kisses down the side of my mouth, and chin and then to my neck, and my chest instinctively pressed forward. His other hand was still in mine when we pulled away breathlessly.

He pressed his forehead to mine, and in a whisper, I said, “You’re already better than you think you are.”

He laughed and kissed me again, and we looked into each other’s eyes.

“Would you like to touch my breasts?”

He looked uncertainly before responding with, “Do you want me to?”

I laughed, “Yes, but only if you want to.”

He kissed me and tentatively let go of my hand before bringing it to my left breast. I gasped softly at the touch, enjoying finally having him touch them, but preferring skin to skin. He gently groped it, and we kissed like a couple of high school kids getting to second base.

I placed my hand on his thigh and felt him tense up. Pulling away, I asked him if he was okay.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just a little nervous.”

“We can stop,” I said, despite every part of my body screaming no.

“No,” he said, with force then cleared his throat, “No, it’s okay. I want to do this.”

“Okay,” I said in a whisper.

Then we were kissing again, and my hand was rubbing his thigh, making my way to the protruding erection in between his legs. I gently brushed against it, and he hissed but continued kissing me even harder before I could ask anything.

I rubbed him just a little, but I wanted more skin contact. I pulled away and laughed softly at the confusion on his face.

I grinned and pulled my long, brown hair to one side, “Will you unzip me?”

He nodded and I turned around on the couch seat, showing him the back of my dress.

He gently placed a hand on my shoulder and used the other one to unzip my dress agonizingly slowly.

After he got to the bottom, I turned back to him and let the straps fall off my shoulder.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, staring hungrily.

I let the dress come off me, settling around my waist and then reached back and undid my lacy black bra. As it fell off my body, my breasts jiggled, and my nipples were so hard it hurt.

“Touch me, Dale.”

He reached forward and shyly placed his palm on me. I moaned and pressed my chest into his hand, reveling in finally feeling his skin on mine. He grew bolder and pinched my nipple with his thumb and forefinger, and I hissed.

“Did I hurt you?” he queried frantically, pulling his hand away.

“No,” I growled. “Please, keep going.”

Again, tentatively, driving me crazy, he reached back over. He pulled at my nipple, and I closed my eyes, eagerly moaning loudly. Then he was pulling on each nipple with both hands and the ache between my legs was a roaring fire, pleading to be fucked. My back was arched so high it hurt, but the pain was nonexistent next to his tugging.

When he finally put his mouth on my left one, I thought I would cum right there. I groaned and gyrated, wanting more of him. I reached over and touched his hard-on, gently stroking it through the pants.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he said, removing his mouth from my nipple with a wet pop.

“You’re making me this hot,” I replied.

I pushed him and he landed on his back on the couch, reluctantly pulled from what he was doing. I unbuckled his pants and pulled down his underwear and watched his member bounce up in a gorgeous salute.

I hungrily put my mouth on it and enjoyed the sound of his groaning as he struggled not to come. But I wanted it all. I pulled my mouth off him just long enough to let him know I wanted him to come, and cum he did. He groaned and grunted, spasming into my mouth as I swallowed.

I lay beside him, watching his chest rise and fall while his breathing slowed.

Finally, he spoke, “That was the best thing I’ve ever experienced.”

I grinned against his chest, “Just wait for the real deal then.”

As we lay there, he began to rub on my breasts again, and again I achingly pressed them against him and his hand. He was beginning to get hard again and I happily helped by stroking his cock.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, so sweetly.

“Please.”

He reached down, pulled my dress up, and placed his hand on my warm center. I moaned, so tightly wound up and warm, wanting him inside me.

“Are women always this wet?” He asked with a slight purr.

“Some, not all. Does it bother you?”

“No,” he replied in a husky voice. “I can feel it through your panties.”

“You can feel it even better under them,” I said.

His cock was as hard as before when he teasingly placed a finger under my lacy underwear. I was so wet, and I thrust against his finger like a cat in heat.

“God, you feel amazing.”

I couldn’t take it anymore and lifted myself up. “You haven’t felt anything yet.”