Swiss exchange student: “The horniest I’ve ever been on a first date” [MF]

In response to u/Farkrye’s tip, I’ve attempted to dial it back and let the story tell itself. Enjoy!

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*In pitch darkness, Andrea pulled my boxers down, gently wrapped her fingers around my dick, and whispered, “How do you like your handjobs?”*

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I grew up in a typical family with two sons and two parents; however, I would say I grew up in an atypical household. Since I was nine (until present day), our family took in homestay students (or exchange students). They would come from all over to learn English: Japan, Korea, Brazil, China, and so on. Further, they were always girls (despite having two sons, my mom had thought boys might be more difficult to manage). Throughout the years, the number of students ranged from two to ten; on average, I’d say there would be five female exchange students living with us at any given time. I remember how we would all hold our plates and line up for dinner like our kitchen was some sort of cafeteria. We would eat, celebrate Christmas, and even play Scrabble together. Growing up with these students was a unique experience – it was like having a rotating group of international sisters that came and went throughout the years. And I always saw them as sisters, until somewhere around puberty.

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In my teens, I was a horny, and admittedly a perverted, little guy. This doesn’t put me in a good light for the story, but I feel like I need to finally get this out: I used to go in their rooms and smell their panties. Yup. I’m not proud of it, but I must have done it at least 10 times. As a young 13 year old, I’d sneak into their rooms while everyone was out, and dig through their dirty laundry like a horny raccoon. Sometimes their dirty underwear would be hanging on a clothing rack. How did I know they were dirty? They had that yellowish-white and crusty dried pussy juice on the inside of the panties. That was the best bit to smell. Yup – I was a sick little fucker for sure. But now that I think about it, I lived with my ex for 4 years, and never smelled her panties once. Interesting how time can evolve one’s tastes.

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Apart from getting that off my chest, I wanted to share the above two paragraphs with you in order to set the context. I was a horny little boy that lived in a house filled with (usually single) college-aged women from all over the world; thus begging the question: So what would happen if an equally horny girl decided to live in our house for one entire summer? This is the story of how I lost my virginity to Andrea – the Swiss girl next door (as her room was literally adjacent to mine).

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This is the part where I try to describe to you how Andrea looked like. I could tell you she had milky soft blonde hair, blue eyes, and great C-cup tits. Or, I could direct you to a porn video that reminds me of her every time I watch it – on PH, just search “Marry Queen” – the first one where she’s in a grey sweater is most accurate to how she looked that summer. She even wore a knit sweater the first time we got intimate.

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I was attracted to her the moment she moved in, but Andrea looked particularly attractive on one sunny afternoon. I was at the dining table doing some homework – I had just finished my first year of university and was doing an internship and summer school. She walked into the kitchen area, about 10 feet away from me, and just stood there texting someone on her phone. She was wearing a black bikini top, and jean short shorts. I could tell her bikini bottoms matched her top because she had the button and fly of her jean shorts wide open. She was quite tan already (just like Marry!), as she had probably been going to the beach a lot. Andrea must have stood there for at least three minutes – I pretended to be concentrating on my laptop, while I stole glances at her cleavage. Then she said bye, and walked out. She didn’t even get anything from the kitchen?? Interesting behaviour.

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Later that night, my dad came into my room and asked if I could help him with something. I came out, and Andrea’s door (just next to mine) was wide open – there she was, standing there beside her bunkbed. “Can you help Andrea dismantle her bunkbed and change it to the wooden twin bed downstairs?” my dad asked. Apparently, she didn’t like how the metal squeaked every time she moved (of course, I would later learn this would also be to my benefit). “Sure”. I stepped into her room for the first time (she wasn’t one of my panty sniffing victims at this point). It smelled like Nivea lotion, with a faint smell of cigarettes (I knew she “secretly” smoked out her window at night). The whole job took about 30 minutes, and Andrea and I chatted while we worked on it together. I can’t remember what we talked about, but I assume it was on the flirtatious side, as she added me on Facebook shortly after.

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I fucking love “the chase”. Bar none – I’ve never topped the feeling of chasing a girl. To be fair, I like being in a steady relationship too, but for me, there’s nothing more exhilarating than the butterflies produced from genuinely liking a girl and hoping she would feel the same. Despite being just a few feet away from each other, we talked every night on Facebook. I was also talking to everyone one else about this girl. The friends that were especially helpful were Kitah, a girl I worked with, and Danny, my friend from church. Kitah had egged me on to do something nice and just tell her I liked her. So one day after work, I bought a pack of Marlboros for Andrea. I remember I had taped a small note to it (wrote something like “enjoy the cigarettes” in Swiss German), and slipped it under her door.

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That night, I waited patiently for her to come home. I was eager to see how she would respond to the cigarettes, and was anxious about how I would tell her I liked her. It was pretty late when I finally heard her open the door to her room. I was staring at my Facebook window on my laptop. About ten minutes went by. Nothing. Maybe she didn’t see them. Then I heard her come out, go to the bathroom to take a shower, then return to her room. She blew dry her hair, and then another ten minutes went by. Still nothing. Maybe she was tired and fell asleep. I pretended to go to the washroom and checked under her door. The lights were still on. I went back to my room and stared at the unchanged Facebook window. Fuck it.

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(At this point, I really wish I could reference or c/p my old Facebook chat, but unfortunately I have since deleted my FB account – we’ll have to make do with my fuzzy memory). “Hey” I typed, and pressed send. Almost immediately, she responded with “Hi :)”. Was she waiting for me to initiate all this time? “Did you get the thing? Haha”. “Yes :) Thanks!”. “I wasn’t sure if you liked that brand haha”. No response. Hmmm. How to proceed. I tried to gauge the situation by analyzing her two messages: she used “:)” twice, so she was clearly happy about the gift, but the messages were rather brief. I scroll up to recall how often she used the :) emoji. She used it quite often to be fair. Then the “Andrea is typing…” thing popped up. Then it disappeared again. Fuck it. I type: “I like you :)” (I throw in the “:)” to speak her lingo). About ten seconds went by, then the “Andrea is typing…” resurfaces. “Me too :)”. Wait whaaat? Just like that? “You like me too?” I tried to confirm. “Yep :)”. My head is spinning. “So what do we do now? Do I come over to your room?” I asked in disbelief. “You can :)”. Da fuckkkk. This girl is wild. I hesitated because my parents and brother are on this floor, and at this time, I was a good Christian boy. What was I even gonna do if I went to her room? I took a minute to think about it, and I’ll spare you the details, but we decided to plan a date instead.

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The following day, for our first date, we planned to spend an entire day at the beach together. I would call in sick for work, and she would skip her English classes. As to not raise suspicions, we left 5 minutes apart from each other, and met at the bus stop. She wore almost exactly what she had on the other day – the black bikini with jean shorts (plus a t-shirt this time). I remember we left early – probably around 8AM, as to maximize our day together.

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When we got to the beach, I have a clear memory of us stripping down into our beachwear, and then sitting against a log near the shore. I sat leaning against the smooth wooden log, while Andrea laid on her belly between my legs, her head rested on my stomach (and of course her boobs were nuzzled on my crotch). I had playfully untied the back of her bikini (she was actually quite shy), rubbed sunscreen on her back, and played with her bum. At one point, she looked up at me and went “this is the horniest I’ve ever been on a first date”. I tried to hide my boner in her cleavage. We must have stayed in that position for over an hour.

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Finally, we had only moved because a guy at an adjacent log had said hello and started up a conversation. I took that as a hint that we should probably dial back the PDA (although it was a quiet weekday), and we moved to another spot and sat side by side on a log. As she was sitting cross-legged with a towel over her lap, I slip my hand under the towel, and under her bikini bottoms. She was shaved clean – “You’re so wet!” I exclaimed loudly. “I told you I was horny!!” she blushed, as she looked around to see if anyone had heard. I continue to finger her a bit more, before we decide to get some sushi by the beach, and then end the afternoon at a shisha/hookah lounge. No one else was at home when we got back at around 3PM, but we went to our respective rooms.

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When you’re brought up as a Christian, you can probably guess that sex is a very taboo topic. Once you cross that line of losing your virginity, the pastor ensured you that there was no coming back. It was such a taboo topic, in fact, that I never heard anyone in a church or bible camp mention the ideas of fingering, blowjobs, anal, or pussy eating. It was just “sex”. But what was sex, anyway? Putting your dick, balls deep, into a vagina? What if it was just the tip? What if I didn’t cum? And what about all those sinners that went balls deep and then repented? And what would happen if I was successful in never crossing this line? Would God be proud of me? I mean, we learned that all sins are equal, and I’ve definitely sinned in other aspects of life already… how bad was just one additional sin? Why was this sin so special? I needed someone to draw the line for me, so I could stick my dick right up against it. These were the thoughts that circulated my mind as I sat on my bed. Still, no one had come home yet. I got up, opened my door, then opened Andrea’s door, and found her napping on her bed in a grey knit sweater.

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“I was sad. I was waiting for you” she said with a smile. I smiled back, and fully clothed, I lifted up her blanket and started kissing her as I joined her in bed. She was wearing just the sweater and a pair of white panties. She had showered when we had gotten back, and smelled like shampoo. I pulled off her sweater and started licking her nipples. I pulled off her panties, and then started fingering her, and then eventually licking her pussy . I decided this is where the line was gonna be – as long as I kept my penis in my pants, Jesus would continue to love me. Andrea and I had discussed earlier about the above Christian thoughts, and she said it was all right if I wasn’t okay going all the way. We laid there in silence, hugging each other for a while. It felt nice.

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I couldn’t sleep that night. It was probably 1AM. Although I had work early the next morning, I laid fully awake and fully horny in bed, thinking about that line. Jesus loves all sinners. He loves murderers. He loves prostitutes. He loves prostitutes that probably doled out hundred of handjobs. He probably even loves those men that received and paid for said handjobs. I can probably get away with one handjob. Besides, I’m not even paying for mine – there’s no audit trail (I studied accounting at the time). I got out of bed, opened my door, and pretended to go to the bathroom (if my brother was awake, he probably could’ve pick up my footsteps, so I had to throw him off the trail). On my way back from washroom, I grabbed both my door knob and Andrea’s door knob at the same time, and simultaneously closed and opened them, respectively.

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Andrea’s room was pitch dark, and I couldn’t hear her move as I closed her door silently. Fuck it, I’ve already come this far. As I got into bed with her, waking her up, I assumed she was smiling because she immediately grabbed the back of my head and started kissing me. I take one of her hands, and I guide it down to my crotch. She starts rubbing me with her palm. In pitch darkness, Andrea pulled my boxers down, gently wrapped her fingers around my dick, and whispered, “How do you like your handjobs?” What?? What do you mean how do I like them? There are settings? What a considerate question to ask! I thought. This woman is amazing. I grab her wrist and give her a wrist a handjob. “I dunno, like that?” I laugh. She tried her best, and I returned to my room without cumming, though emotionally satisfied.

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To be honest, this was my first handjob ever. Meaning, I never even gave *myself* a handjob before. This might be kind of weird, but I grew up masturbating by rubbing my dick on my mattress. I realized that this might of fucked up my dick (minor phimosis), and I actually ended up getting circumcised when I was 27. That’s a story for another time, but feel free to leave a comment if you can relate to this – I’m quite interested. Back to the story.

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A couple days after that night, I was off for a week-long church summer camp. There, I talked to my friend Danny (who was a few years older), about Andrea, sex, and the “line”. I remember he called her “Swiss Cheese” as some sort of code word so no one knew what/whom we were talking about. He told me everything I had already heard before: “Don’t do it man. If you do, you can’t come back. I know, cuz I went there. It felt great at the time, but I can’t come back. Once you go, you can’t come back.” Fuck this guy, I thought. If he couldn’t come back, then why tf was he here at this church camp with me?? And who else here had fucked before? Was I the only virgin at this camp?? Jesus Christ. Little did I know, this was the beginning of the disintegration of my faith, and let me tell you, boy oh boy, does it feel great to not go back.

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When I returned from camp, I didn’t know if Andrea was home or not. I just put my things down, and then went straight into her room. She was doing homework at her desk with her glasses on. For some reason, that genuinely never ceases to turn me on – seeing girls that normally don’t wear glasses, wear their glasses at home with their hair tied up and maybe with a pair of sweatpants on as well. I closed the door, and then give her a hug from behind, massaging her boobs. She started giggling as I kissed her neck and ears, and we gradually stripped ourselves as we worked our way to the wooden bed we had set up together.

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She told me she was on the pill. I knew of birth control, but I was unsure of it’s effectiveness. At this point, I had decided in my mind that I would pull out regardless. We did the usual foreplay stuff and then she straddled me, preparing to slip my dick inside her, thus, crossing the line for all eternity. Sex was a very surreal feeling the first time I experienced it. Honestly, it’s pretty surreal every time.

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For the majority of its life, a dick always feels cold – even in the shower, it’s in a constant struggle, battling to pull itself into your body for warmth. Then for the first time, essentially since childbirth, you reintroduce it to a hot and slimy mess of an environment, and boy is that dick grateful. I watched Andrea’s pussy envelop my penis (not to ruin the mood, but this actually hurt due to the phimosis I mentioned earlier). We did a little more cowgirl, then I wanted to try to fuck her from behind. “That’s my asshole” she said, as I struggled to find her pussy. I knew I just had to slide my tip up and down like how they did in porn, and then gently push forward…”Asshole again”. Laughing, I gave up, and assumed the missionary style position.

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We were probably about 7 minutes in (total), when I felt I needed to cum. “Where do you want me to cum?” I asked, as I continued pumping. “Ummm, it’s okay, just… cum…” “Haha what?” “Just cum inside me.” I already decided earlier to pull out. It wasn’t safe. But maybe she was right. Or maybe I could just cum on her tits? “Can I just cum on your face or in your mouth?” I asked, recalling my favourite porn scenes. “No no no, just cum inside me”. AH. But what if she got pregnant. Then I’d be really screwed! Maybe that’s what Danny meant about not being able to come back! FUCK – I couldn’t hold it anymore. While still in a missionary/pushup position, I panicked and pulled out as I unleashed one week’s worth of cum I had saved up at thoughts and prayers camp. I had pulled out so vigorously it caused my dick to fling around like a flicked spring doorstop. I watched in slow motion as each pulsating blast splattered against her stomach, then chest, then neck, then face, and then my own chin. Yep, I gave myself a facial too.

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Just realizing how long this story is now, I’m quite sure I’ll be the only one reading to this paragraph, so I should probably wrap this up. Long story short, we spent the rest of the summer sneaking into her room at all times of the day. Sometimes at night (as we were accustomed to), but sometimes I’d also get up in the morning, go straight into her room, and wake her up by eating her pussy. It was an eventful summer, but we actually ended up catching feelings, and the summer fling didn’t end as smoothly as we had anticipated. Alas, the summer ended, and she was gone. I actually met up with her in Zurich a few years ago (as friends), and she is happily in a relationship with a Swiss dude.

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I missed Andrea though. A week after she left, I was back in university, and started my part-time job at an ESL school… where I met [Saori](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ojs517/car_sex_with_a_japanese_exchange_student_mf/).

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/olyklw/swiss_exchange_student_the_horniest_ive_ever_been