[F] My Humble Beginnings

This is the story of two of my firsts! And well, you never forget your firsts, so I figured that I might as well share it on here with you lovely lot here on Reddit.

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This happened back in college, as many things do, when I was 19. That was just four years ago, mind you, I’m not an old woman or anything, but 19 feels like such a long time ago to me because of how much I’ve changed since then. You see, I used to be this epitome of innocence. I didn’t drink, I didn’t fuck around (or at all), and I went to this Christian organization that was based at my university. They even offered me an officer position in it actually, and the only thing that was stopping me from accepting it at the time was my concern for the effect that it could have on my grades, but otherwise I totally would have. It’s a Roman Catholic org, but the aesthetic’s sort of Mormon if anything, all our posters and publication materials online would have us in all white – prim, proper, clean, the works. Very conservative, and that was me at the time.

I’ve become a whole lot more liberal since then. Like, a *lot*. Like I’m an atheist now, for one, though I don’t look back on the years I spent in that org as a waste or anything, since they were all pretty good people as a whole. Like I’ve had a few encounters with other girls since then, though those are stories for other posts. Like I have Tinder Plus now, and lingerie and a drawer for lube, condoms, and some toys.

The only way I haven’t really changed is physically, I guess. I’m around 5”5, which is just about average where I’m from. I’m Asian, though it’s more apparent in the complexion of my skin than in my eyes. I’m pretty flat-chested at 32B, though I’ve since bought some bras to help that out sometimes. I’d like to say I have B-cups, but in reality, I could probably wear an A on occasion if I wanted to. I make up for it with my ass though, or so I’m told. My figure’s very slender, very lean and I used to do a bit of streetdance back in highschool, but not a single pair of jeans that I’ve tried our fits me comfortably because of my ass. Of course, back then, this was something that I sort of tried to hide with looser fitting pants and joggers and all, but when this story took place, I didn’t have that much control over my attire.

See, when I was 19, I took an internship at this national corporate firm. I don’t wanna go too into detail to avoid getting found out, but let’s just say that with the size of the company, the HR department really promoted their idea of what the culture was like, and for them, they wanted to have their employees be youthful and energetic, or at least feel that way. Because of that, everyone sort of looked like they were straight out of a fast casual catalogue, think Uniqlo and Zara and the like. Fitting in as the new intern, I bought a slightly new wardrobe, mostly skater and pencil skirts that didn’t reach the top of my knees (gasp!).

I was doing really well for my first month, and I got a good balance of actual work amidst some coffee jockeying and acting as the human printer. I was on track to go the whole two months without losing my Catholic innocence, until the *new* new intern showed up.

He was a college student too, but a senior, probably like 21. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was sort of exactly my kind of guy. Tall, on the darker side, not muscular but not really chubby. I’d find out later that he had a more than above average cock, which is another huge plus too.

He was also off limits. He had a girlfriend at the time, someone I sort of knew from my university as well. She was short, chunky, and frankly out of his league, which sort of made me resent her even though I had no real reason to. I guess I eventually got at her for that.

Obviously not his real name for obvious reasons, let’s call him Stan. Stan spent his first week avoiding me for the most part, probably because he didn’t know I was an intern too. In my downtime, I’d amuse myself by watching Stan from my own cubicle, messing things up and twiddling his thumbs like I did a lot back in my first week. Absentmindedly, I caught myself daydreaming a bit too. He was reasonably fit and dressed to show it, and even a somewhat prude like I was couldn’t really help herself.

Our first real contact came in his second week. I don’t know how, but he had learned that I was an intern, so naturally, he came over to my desk to ask me if I wanted to go out for lunch. He picked this pretty trendy burger joint nearby, and I figured why not.

I was completely out of my element there is why not. At the time, I had never gone out on a date with a guy, or even a one on one meal. I was a virgin, and I had never even kissed or held hands with a guy. I was pretty stiff and awkward for the most part which took over me by this incessant giggling I did after every half-sentence I could find the courage to speak, and in this hair flippy twirly thing I’d do so that I’d have something to fiddle around with with my hands. For whatever naive reason though, I guess he found that rather cute.

“I really hate the traffic around the office. It takes me a whole hour to get to work sometimes,” I said. This was the level of conversation that I was comfortable holding, really.

“Ah, really? I wouldn’t know. I’m holed up in an apartment for the summer, just takes me a walk to get to the building.”

“Oh?” I asked. I hadn’t even considered finding a place near the office, my parents would’ve never let that happen. “And you’re living alone?”

“Sort of. I have a roommate, a friend from school, he’s interning around the area too. And my girlfriend, ish, she comes over from time to time.”

I’d be lying if I said that that didn’t disappoint me a bit, but it did, and I could feel myself flustering a bit. I get a bit sweaty and red in the face when I’m nervous, and I’d bet that he noticed, even just a bit.

“Oh. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, almost two years now.”

He proceeded to tell me a bit about her which is where I found out who she was exactly, but I’ll skip this part. I ragged on her a bit, very lightly, but he took it very lightly. Jokingly, really.

“So I’m probably going to end up working in this area too. I’d love to see your place sometime!” I said, somewhere near the end of the meal. Now, looking back at it after the fact, I can see where my friends judged me for being so direct and overt in my attraction to him, but remember, my interaction with guys on this level was limited to the joke dating site account my friends had made for me. For whatever reason, I honestly thought that that was some totally normal thing to say.

“Yeah, I’d love to! How about we go to this speakeasy bar that’s by the office after work on Monday, then head back over to my place? We could watch a movie or something.”

Of course, I couldn’t go to that speakeasy bar. I had never drank a drop of alcohol in my life at that point.

“I’d love to go! Next week?”

Idiot.

That night, after getting home from work, I was already being lightly slutshamed by some of my friends before I had even done anything, and I suppose there was a bit of guilt there on my part too. I brushed it off though, because I wasn’t cancelling this…interaction with a guy that I was attracted to over them. I hesitate to call it a date, because well, I don’t think it was.

The workdays leading up to that Monday were full of this heavy tension. Looking back, he really was the start of my change – I was walking a bit different and dressing a bit sexier because of him. Nothing radical at all, really, not even a change in what I was wearing. Just a skirt hitched just a bit higher, or a blouse with one less button. I was still wearing comfort bras and boyshorts underneath.

Monday came, and by 6pm, my skirt was hitched up high enough and my blouse unbuttoned enough to have made my high school teacher cry. I dipped into the bathroom for a quick fingercombing of my hair and a quick face wash, and suddenly I didn’t look like I was dressed for work – I looked like a girl on a well, date. Even then, I didn’t use makeup though. I’m more of a girl-next-door, natural type.

“You clean up nice,” he said, meeting me at the building lobby to head out for the bar together. I remember this line in particular because of how cliche it was, and how red and nervous it made me. I managed a really soft, really meek, “You too.”

The bar was this classy place, hidden off away inside this upscale diner. The interior was dark, lit by only a few lightbulbs and quite a lot of candles. The tables were small, just enough for a cocktail glass and a plate of food each.

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” I started, “but I’ve actually never drank before. No idea what to order.”

“Seriously? Like, you’ve never had a cocktail before?”

“Never had anything!”

“Wow! Okay. Well. How about you get this one for your first drink ever then?”

I forgot the name of that cocktail, but I’ll never forget what it did for me. It was strong, it’d be strong for me even now, and I downed two and a half that night. It was fruity, sweet, and if I knew any better, I’d figure that he was trying to get me drunk and willing, but well, I already had the willing part down even without it. The best thing this gave me, really, was plausible deniability.

The second round of drinks arrived, and I took a bigger sip than one should be taking with any alcohol. “Wow, it burns. Really hot going down the throat!”

He took a sip of his drink and smiled, putting his hand around my waist, pulling me closer to him on the couch. That’s when I knew this was getting real, going somewhere maybe. If I had cleavage to show, I would’ve fixed my blouse to give him a better look.

Biting my lip, I looked at him and asked, “So how’s your girlfriend and you doing?”

He shrugged a bit and answered, “Terrible.” He had this knowing look on his face that told the whole story.

I pretend-frowned and said, “That’s too bad,” and giggled again. I was a bit tipsy at this point, and my face was red more from Asian flush than any nerves.

The third round of drinks came, and this glass I couldn’t finish. I figured I wouldn’t remember much if I drank some more, and I wanted to be in the driver’s seat a bit.

“So tell me about your lovelife,” he said, “any exes? Guys you’re dating?”

I smiled. “Exes? No, no. Not me. I came from an all girls high school.”

“Doesn’t mean you couldn’t have found someone for yourself. You look great.”

“Me? No! I haven’t even ever kissed a guy.”

“Well,” he started, and leaned into me, giving me a peck on the cheek, “that’s half of that done. Not that I believe that you’ve never kissed a guy.”

I was reeling from that one. I didn’t really know what to do, what to say. I stuttered, “T-that’s cool.”

We both laughed at that, him from the awkwardness of it all and me mostly trying to act nonchalant.

The conversation cooled a bit after that, mostly from me trying to finish my drink unsuccessfully, but eventually I just suggested, “Maybe we should head to your place now? So I can check it out?”

His eyes lit up a bit. He called for the waiter, left a pretty hefty collection of notes on the table, and we left without him picking up his change.

The walk to his apartment, his hands were on my waist again, but a bit lower this time, on the side of my butt. I was drunk at this point, and that only gave me more confidence. It made me feel attractive, like I had the power. I didn’t feel like I was restrained by myself anymore, if that makes any sense.

When we got to his place, his roommate was out of the house. I suspect that he must have texted him while we were on the walk there. The apartment was pretty snazzy for a summer rental. Not that much furniture, but what he did have was really modern, and the urban view that high up was great. We took a seat on his black vinyl, leather-y couch and he set up a movie on TV. This was before Netflix was really a thing where I’m from, so it was being fed from a hard drive he had hooked up to the television.

Us both being drunk, me considerably more so, we just kept talking throughout the movie anyway. Our eyes were fixated on the TV, but our minds were elsewhere. Every now and then he would sneak a peek at me, and I would sneak a peek at him. This was the first time in my life that I was really paying attention to a man’s bulge, but it was there, and it was making its presence felt.

After a half hour or so of drunk rambling, I said the magic words.

“But yeah, you know, now I wonder what cock tastes like.”

As soon as the last few syllables left my lips, his were on mine. It was frantic, energetic, very urgent, like a ticking timebomb had just reached zero and the room was about to explode. His hands were on the back of my head, and I was so excited but clueless, I kept pressing my lips against his, like I was searching for him with my tongue. The technique wasn’t there, but I was contributing to the level of ecstasy that he had set at least. I put my hands on his stomach under his button down, just wanting to feel more of him. His hands were everywhere. At the back of my head, on top of my shirt, right at the seat of my skirt.

He was unbuttoning my blouse now, and I was scared of what he’d think. Even with my bra on, it was evident that there wasn’t much. It was a very modest number, more built for comfort than anything, colored beige and with pretty wide straps.

“Fucking beautiful,” he muttered under his breath as he fiddled with the clasp. It was taking him a bit, so I figured I’d help him out. I undid the clasp with one arm, and covered my tits with the other. He kissed me on the neck, then on the collarbone, then on the top of my breasts, then tried to nuzzle my arm away. “Come on then.”

“Are we going too fast?” I asked. I know it was sort of weird to ask that right there and then, but I didn’t exactly know what was the right thing to do in this kinda situation.

“Yeah, we fucking are,” he said as he pried my arm away with his own, and latching onto my nipple with his mouth. He was rough, biting and licking my boob really vigorously, and I let out this long, high pitched moan.

I could feel myself getting wet.

I heard the rustling of his belt being unbuckled and his pants being unbuttoned, and without even looking down, I put my hand on his crotch and over his boxers, I felt up my first cock. I remember it being harder than I had expected. I knew it’d be hard, but I don’t think I knew it’d be that rigid? But looking back, that sorta preconception didn’t make any sense.

He slipped his underwear down. He was definitely above average, I didn’t have much to compare to at that point, but I sorta just knew. Not veiny or gnarly or anything, very neat and thick, just how I’d end up liking it. He gestured for me to get on the floor on my knees, and being obedient, I assumed the position. I gave him a stroke, and then another, sort of feeling out how this sort of thing was supposed to go. He grunted, and took my hand in his and made it tighter, much tighter than I thought it was supposed to be, and showed me through the up and down motion.

“Now suck.”

And so I did.

Sucking, I took to more naturally. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to use any teeth, and that I had to make it as wet as possible. I kissed the head of his cock first just to tease him, then I lowered my lips onto him until I had him in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the underside of his cock and I felt a bit silly doing so, but the reactions I was getting from him were priceless. He was gripping the sides of the couch with his arms spread to his sides, and his cock was all mine.

Without stopping, I slipped my own panties off under my skirt. I shimmied them off of me, then kneeled again with my legs angled and spread wide, and I rubbed my pussy as I sucked him off. Tip for you guys, I was starting from the outside, right about near the hood, and doing it very slowly in this circular motion. My eyes were closed from how good this all felt, my head bobbing and my puss getting rubbed while I was just wearing my skirt from work.

He saw this and gestured me on the couch. With my mouth full of cock, I shook my head no, but then he insisted, so I followed. I rested my head on the armrest of the couch with the rest of my body on the cushions, and he repositioned himself to be facing me, and then hiked my skirt upward and flipped it onto my stomach. One finger first, and real shallow, and I sort of winced a bit. I told him to slow down and to ease off it. I didn’t want to lose my hymen on my first encounter honestly. He nodded and then lowered himself and placed his tongue on my slit. It was warm, and so wet. He spread my lips and found my clit, and then started making this flicking motion with his tongue.

I was in ecstasy. I was moaning uncontrollably, and my whole body was contorting on the couch as he sucked lightly on my clit. I was swearing like a sailor here.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck me with your tongue,” I groaned. Small nod of his head, and I was reaching down to push his head in between my legs.

After a while he stood up and placed his cock next to my mouth. I didn’t need commanding, and began sucking on it. He placed my hand onto his cock, and I was sucking on him while stroking with my other hand.

He had one hand groping my boobs violently, and the other fingering me, two fingers in and thrusting into me slick and fast. I could tell how wet I was from just how fast he was fingerfucking me, and I thought I’d cry out from how good it felt.

I came first. I didn’t squirt or anything crazy like that, but my muscles down there contracted and pulsated and I could feel myself get extra wet and then really sensitive, my legs were crossing and squeezing against each other and I was just in complete bliss.

I didn’t stop sucking, though. I could tell that cumming made him get close too, and I tried to put two hands onto his base while I sucked his shaft. It was real, real tight now and going fast. His cock was so wet, and it would have been easy to almost lose control from how slippery I had made it.

“I’m cumming. Fuck, I’m cumming,” he was grunting. “Where?”

I took a break from his cock and quickly answered, “Whereever you want.”

He groaned as if he had just lost it and pulled out my mouth, shooting spurts of warm cum onto my face and hair. I really didn’t appreciate the hair bit much, but whatever.

“Not bad for a first time,” I said, before lying down on the couch as he found some towels to help clean me up.

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Tell me how you guys like it! I can be a bit responsive but my first and primary concern’s not getting doxxed, so I’m never going to give out any personal information through the comments or on PM that might give you a hint where I’m from. Enjoy!

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9ys4hd/f_my_humble_beginnings