Hi guys. This is my first post, and it covers what was, in essence, my first sexual experience. I was about 20 at the time, the girl was 19. It’s a slow start and doesn’t end in sex, but I think by the end of it, you’ll understand why handjobs are now my biggest fetish. And before anyone asks, yes, I lived a sheltered life. I have no idea if anyone will like this, but I had a hell of a good time writing it.
I remember the day she started at the restaurant. I was assigned to train her, to show her the ropes. She was gorgeous. She was short, barely over five feet, with shoulder-length blond hair that she always seemed to have curled. Because of the uniforms we wore, there was no way to tell how big her breasts were, but I, like most of the guys there, didn’t care. She had a wonderfully bright smile, perfect teeth, and little dimple at the right corner of her mouth that only formed when she laughed.
What I noticed most, however, were her eyes. Enormously expressive, they gave her an air of innocence that was extremely attractive. I found myself trying to get her attention just so I could stare at those eyes.
We hit it off almost immediately. We saw each other nearly every day, and though I didn’t think it at the time, I was falling for her quick. Now, I’m an extremely dense kind of guy, and had never had a real relationship to speak of. So when her interest in me became apparent to everyone around us, I denied it. I distinctly remember one night, after a busy rush, that her and I were sorting a big pile of silverware. We flirted for a little while, and she got up to check on a table. I watched her walk away with something like sorrow, thinking there was no way I could ever get a girl like that.
Eventually, a series of awkward events on my part led to me getting her number. We began texting almost every day, and even hanging out after work to grab a bite to eat every now and then. We flirted more more and more as time went on, the tension between us becoming very apparent. In my mind, however, we were just friends. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say.
On one of our respective days off, I texted her to say hi. We chatted back and forth for a bit, and then, somehow, we got to actually talking on the phone. Again we chatted for a while. It was going really well. We joked and laughed and flirted. At some point in the conversation, I heard a small noise from her end and she asked me to hold on.
“Oh, I’m holding on, alright,” I said lamely. I meant it as an innuendo, and, amazingly, that’s exactly how she took it. There was silence for a beat, and I almost panicked.
“Holding on to what?” She finally asked. She was trying to sound innocent, but I caught the slyness in her voice.
“Oh… you know.” I was terrible at this. Looking back, I think that’s part of what attracted her to me. Thank goodness.
“No, what is it that you’re holding on to?” She asked again.
I was stumped. I was in no way gutsy enough to come out and say “my dick,” even though that’s what we were both thinking. So I blundered on.
“I think you know.” I said.
“Is it your… you know…” She said slowly. Maybe we weren’t so different after all.
“My what?” I asked. I suddenly wanted nothing more than for her to say the word. My pulse quickened. “What do you think I mean?”
“I don’t want to say.”
“Go ahead,” I said.
“Your…” her voice dropped to a whisper. “Penis…?”
My palms began to sweat. So far, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me. My pants were still completely on, but I lied.
“Yep,” I said, barely keeping my voice from cracking. “That’s right.”
She inhaled sharply and giggled. “Is it…” She trailed off.
“What?” I asked. “No point being shy now.”
“Is it… up? Or down?” She asked, and I thought I detected real shyness this time. That just made it even hotter.
Of course, I was rock hard at this point, and I wanted this to keep going.
“Well… it’s up right now.” I said.
“Oh my goodness!” She said, and again giggled softly. Her voice had taken on a breathy tone that was driving me crazy. “I think… the next time we see each other, you should wear sweatpants.”
I wasn’t thinking with my brain anymore.
“I just might do that,” I said. “Of course, if I do, you’ll have to do something similar.”
“You want me to wear sweatpants, too?” She asked, mischief in her voice.
“No, but you’ll have to show me something in return.” I said.
“What did you have in mind?”
I could hardly believe what was happening. “You can pick,” I said, and waited with baited breath.
Then came a simple reply, loaded with possibility. “Oh boy,” she said.
Believe it or not, we set a time to hang out at the local park the very next day, just before we both had to had to head to work. When the time came, I texted her to let her know I was heading over. I was too chicken to actually wear sweatpants and wore jeans instead. I did put a pair in the trunk of my car, just in case she called my bluff.
We met in the parking lot. It was a beautiful day in late spring, just warm enough for shorts and t-shirts. She got out of her car, wearing tight jean shorts that accentuated the curves of her butt, which was always in stark contrast with her petite frame. She was a cheerleader, and though her legs were short, they were muscular. She smiled at me, that little dimple at the corner of her mouth, and I swear my heart skipped a beat.
I asked her if she wanted to walk down to the lake. She said yes. We were off.
We came to the edge of the lake, the sun beginning its descent and reflecting yellow light onto our faces. I looked at her then, as she brushed a lock of silky blond hair from her mouth, and thought that she may be the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. We talked for a while, walking back and forth in front of the water as it gently lapped at the shore. My mind, however, never really left what we’d discussed the day before. After a time, I decided to bring it up.
“So, about what we talked about yesterday,” I said with some hesitation.
Her face broke out in a grin, and she covered her face with her hands. “I didn’t forget about that,” she said.
I laughed. “I think we’d better hold up our deal, don’t you?” I said.
She nodded her head, still smiling, still hiding behind her hands. Her body language told me that she was nervous… but willing. I knew the feeling.
“Should I go first?” she asked. I didn’t see any reason to make her ask twice. I nodded. She smiled even wider, tinges of red appearing on her cheeks.
There was a sheltered picnic area just a few feet away from where we were, elevated on stilts in case the lake were to flood. You could only see into it from the lake side, and there seemed to be no one around anyway. I pointed to it. “How about we go over there.” She nodded and we walked into the shade of the building.
I looked at her expectantly. She looked back and laughed, bringing her hands to her face again, then dropping them. “What did I get myself into?” She asked under her breath, still smiling.
“Hey, it’s alright.” I said. But I wasn’t letting her off the hook. “Just show me whatever you want.”
She tugged at the bottom hem of her shirt. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” She said. I couldn’t think of anything to say. She lifted her shirt up to her belly button and hesitated.
I waited, and the whole world waited with me. This was about to happen. She looked at me, face redder than ever, sighed theatrically, and lifted her shirt all the way up. My heart stopped.
She was already turning away, but I caught a glimpse of them, two breasts, perfectly shaped and no bigger than a handful. Her nipples were a blur of the lightest pink, pointing straight out.
And then they were gone, and she’d turned away, bursting into laughter.
I’m sure I had the biggest, dumbest grin on my face. “Those… those were amazing!” I said. I had no idea what else to say. I walked toward her and pulled her to me. “They’re perfect.”
She looked at me, face still red, but those eyes gleamed. Then, they fluttered to my waist. “Your turn,” she said, smile wider than ever.
Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. I still didn’t know if she wanted to see everything, and I was way too nervous to just whip it out. No girl had ever seen it before. I took a deep breath and smiled nervously as she crossed her arms, nodding her head toward my belt. “Show me,” she said.
I unbuckled my pants, unzipped my fly, and pulled it open all the way. My heart was pounding. She grinned, not saying anything. I wasn’t hard–far too nervous for that–but I had a good semi, and my head was clearly visible through my thin boxer briefs.
She looked up to my eyes. “Why isn’t it… you know.” She asked, and held up her index finger so that it pointed up at an angle.
Crap. I realized then that the fact I wasn’t able to get hard probably came across as insulting.
“I’m just really nervous,” I said, hoping my eyes conveyed an apology. I was also suddenly concerned that we’d be discovered here, showing off in the middle of a park.
“Maybe we should continue this in one of our cars,” I said, hoping for just a little more privacy.
“Good idea,” she said. “Let’s go to mine.”
A few moments later we were in her car. She closed her door and looked at me, again expectant. Right back to it, then. My pulse raced yet again, but I reached down and slid my jeans to my knees.
“Maybe… you need a little more inspiration,” she said suddenly, and I looked over. She was tugging again at the hem of her shirt. My eyes caught hers. I swallowed hard. “That might help,” I said.
She grinned, exhaled sharply as if she were about to jump into a pool of cold water, and lifted her shirt. I might have fainted.
Her skin was flawless, from the flatness of her stomach to the swells of her breasts. Her nipples were small and pink, and hard enough to cut glass.
“Unbelievable,” was all I could think to say. I was in awe.
She kept her shirt up, and gestured with her eyes at my crotch. I tore my eyes from her breasts long enough to look down. My underwear was barely hiding a massive erection.
I looked back at her. She put her arms down, but her shirt stayed up, allowing a full view. I was okay with that. She reached tentatively toward me. “Can I…?” She asked. I swallowed hard and nodded. She reached further forward and placed her hand on my cock, now throbbing underneath the fabric of my briefs. This was the first time a girl had ever touched it, and the feeling was electric.
I looked down at her hand. Her fingers flexed, feeling. “You can go underneath if you want,” I said, trying to be cool but desperately hoping she’d do it.
Without saying a word, she crept her fingers to my waistband and pulled it gently forward. I looked at her. She looked right into my eyes, slipped her hand inside my waistband, and took hold of my cock. I inhaled sharply, and my head snapped to face forward. I felt her hand move from the base of my shaft toward the tip.
“I want to take it out,” I heard her say. I looked back at her, her breasts still exposed, her chest rising and falling quickly. Without any thought, I reached out and gently squeezed her right breast. A perfect handful. Our eyes met again. Those eyes! Her expression was pure innocence.
“You can take it out,” I said, “But I’m warning you, it’s not very big.” At this point in my life, I thought I was probably average, or a little less than average. I was self-conscious about it, and hoped that lowering her expectations would mean less embarrassment. She sensed my hesitation.
“I won’t look,” she said, and turned her head away as she pulled my rock hard cock out to meet the daylight.
That felt awkward for some reason, so, despite myself, I immediately told her she could look. She turned back, and her eyes fell to my now-exposed penis. Her eyes widened.
“That’s not small,” she said, and her smile crept back.
“You don’t think so?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“No, not at all,” she said, with enough enthusiasm that I actually believed her. Her gaze never moved from my cock. This was amazing. “It’s really big.”
I looked down again at her tiny hand, slender fingers curled around the widest part of my shaft. Her thumb moved toward my head and she stroked it gently. “It’s so soft,” she said quietly.
I glanced back at her. Her eyes were still on my cock. I reached out to her bare breast and squeezed it, feeling her own soft skin and the firmness just beneath. I felt her hand move slowly up to my head and slowly back down to the base. My breath quickened. I cupped my hand and bounced her breast, watching with ever-growing excitement as it jiggled up and down. She giggled and moved one hand to cover it, leaving her other hand firmly gripping my cock.
I laughed and pulled back. “That tickles,” she said. Still smiling, I glanced at the car’s dash and saw the time. My heart sunk. Work was in less than half an hour, and we both had to drive there and change before our shift.
She followed my eyes to the clock. “Uh oh,” she said. “We’d better get going.”
“Yeah,” I said, but made no move. “I guess we’d better.”
She pulled down her shirt, much to my sadness, and I put myself away.
She watched as I struggled to fit it back into my jeans. Then she looked up. “How about you grab your shirt from your car and we drive over together?” She asked. That sounded great to me. I grabbed it (we were parked next to each other) and got back in while she started the car.
She put the car in reverse but didn’t let off the brake. “You should get it back out while we drive over,” she said, and there was that dimple again. I checked to see if she was serious. She was. So, I unbuttoned again and pulled open my fly. Immediately, she reached over, slid her hand into my underwear, and in one movement my rock hard cock was out again. I gasped. I couldn’t help it.
“Hey again, little guy,” she said. I thought this was enormously funny.
With a firm grasp still held on my ever-hardening erection, she backed out of the parking lot and pulled onto the highway. This was almost too much.
“What happens if someone sees?” I asked, looking at the cars as they whizzed by.
“I’ll just do this,” she said, and waved my cock back and forth. “‘Hey, look at me, just holding Jordan’s penis!’” She giggled some more, and I grinned out the window. If she did too much more of that, I was going to burst.
We drove like that for a while, her doing nothing more than grasping my dick, me struggling to not bust all over her hand. As we neared the restaurant, I mentioned that I couldn’t believe we were doing this.
“Don’t worry,” she said, eyes on the road. “If we saw someone we knew, I’d just lean over and cover it with my mouth.”
“Yeah?” I said. “Maybe you should do that anyway.”
She looked at me. “Seriously?” She asked.
“Seriously,” I said, looking right back at her.
“How can I do that while I’m driving?”
“You could just pull over there,” I said, and pointed to a basically deserted parking lot near a strip mall.
“Okay!” She said, and turned the car toward it. I swear, this girl was up for anything.
I had almost gotten used to her hand on me, but now my heart sped up again. This felt like a dream.
She pulled to a stop, put the car in park, and looked at me. “Just put my mouth on it?” She asked.
“If you want to,” I said.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned toward me, hand still on my dick. She leaned forward and then down. A beat. I glanced around to make sure we weren’t being observed, and then I felt it. Her lips were warm and moist, and a tingle spread all the way from the tip of my erection to my thighs, before racing back and nestling into the base of my spine. I felt her move down, teeth lightly grazing me, and then the liquid warmth of her tongue as it traced its way around my shaft.
I sighed and closed my eyes. She moved back up, her warmth leaving me, and I heard her ask, “Should I go up and down?”
Was this a first for both of us?
“Yes,” I said, in not much more than a whisper.
I felt her again, going further down this time, and I placed my hand on the back of her head, running my fingers through her golden hair. She bobbed a few more times and then sat back up. I watched her wipe her bottom lip in a gesture I found almost unbearable.
“Did you like it?” She asked me. I looked down at my cock, her saliva still covering it, glistening in the sunlight.
“That was amazing,” I said.
“Good,” she said, putting her seatbelt back on. “We’d better get to work.”
That evening, our coworkers must have found us intolerable. It was all we could do to keep our hands off of each other. Any job we were assigned, we did standing as close as possible. Any time she walked away, I let my hand drift across her butt, and she’d turn and wink at me. Every sentence was an innuendo. I couldn’t wait for work to be over. And finally, at long last, it was.
Since I had ridden over with her, she had to take me back to my car. Which meant we got to to be in the car together again. Alone.
I was excited.
We left the restaurant and approached her car, illuminated only by a few street lamps near the road. She tossed me the keys. “You drive,” she said.
By the time we buckled our seatbelts, I was already rock hard.
I pulled out on to the highway, neither of us saying anything. The tension was palpable, but I wasn’t sure how to break the silence. Finally, I thought of something that was both charming and smooth.
“You know, if you’re feeling hot, you could just go ahead and take something off.” Told you.
She laughed and turned to me. From my peripheral vision, I saw her smile in the alternating dark and light of the passing lights.
“What if someone sees?” She asked with mock hesitation.
“It’s dark,” I said. “You’ll be safe.”
Trying my best not to crash, I caught glimpses of her pulling her shirt over her head, then reaching back and unbuckling her bra. She let it slide off as she arched her back, pushing her breasts outward. “That’s better,” she said, and looked at me. I was grinning like an idiot.
We talked as we approached the park where I’d left my car, mostly about how it wasn’t as warm as I thought, and I pulled into the same parking lot. I put the car in park and looked over at her. I could just make her out, her smooth skin subtly reflecting the pale light of the moon.
I reached to touch her, brushing my fingers along her nipples and cupping her left breast. I felt her reach for my fly, felt her undo it, and reach for me once more. She pulled it out and squeezed. I moved my hand to pinch her nipple, felt it grow hard. She sighed. I let my hand drift across her flat stomach to her own zipper, but she stopped me.
“Not yet,” she said, looking up at me. “Next time.”
I nodded and touched her breasts again as she slid her hand up and down my shaft. She leaned down and again I felt her lips, then her tongue as it danced around my head. I slid my hand along her back and reached the swell of her butt, sneaking my hand inside her pants. Her butt was amazingly firm.
She squeezed me harder, and I exhaled sharply. Her head began to bob, slowly at first, then faster. I leaned against the headrest and squeezed her tighter.
After a moment she sat back up, hand still stroking me. She looked at me, face expectant, eyes searching. I leaned toward her, and I saw her eyes close as she leaned toward me. Her lips touched mine. Her hand moved faster.
I reached up with my other hand and grasped her breast, squeezing it firmly. She moaned, her breath escaping against my cheek. I wasn’t going to last much longer.
My breathing quickened, and I turned away from her. She looked down at my cock, stroking faster than ever. Her hand was a blur in the pale light, and I felt myself getting close.
“I’m going to come,” I breathed, hardly daring to speak. She went faster.
A few seconds later I burst, shooting a rope that landed on my neck and chest. I heard an audible gasp. I twitched and shot more, some of it landing on my stomach, more on her forearm and then on her hand. She continued stroking me until I placed my hand on her arm, still breathing heavily.
I turned to her and saw the smile I was sure I was falling in love with. She held up her hand, covered with my cum.
“Have anything for this?” She asked. I reached into the back seat for my shirt from earlier and cleaned us both up.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4dd6je/hot_blonde_and_my_first_blowjob