College nerds love to learn new skills. I learned to read, to argue. I acquired useful skills: navigating bureaucracy, beating classmates to the library when assigned readings were expensive. Honestly, I am good at learning, or so I was raised to believe. I have been told I am a natural learner my whole life.
There was a time that this was not the case. I was out on a field experiment my first year of college. At 19, I was naked on top of my lover, trying to figure out the intricacies of penis-in-vagina in cowgirl position, and it was just not coming to me naturally at all. I could not figure out how to ride his cock for my life.
It’s not that I had not done the readings. Life knows I had done all of them, perhaps even too many. I had watched pornstars squat on top of lovers, beautifully stuffing their pussies while exercising their quadriceps. I had watched videos of titties, bellies, hair bouncing with each ride, women screaming and men grunting in ecstasy.
But watching the experts taught me nothing about actually riding cock. Their expertise made it look effortless; what I needed was a manual for the inexperienced. After all, I was young but eager. I wanted to be a good slut, and I have always loved learning, anyway.
Sadly, what could have been sensual started out as profoundly awkward. My grinding made me soak his cock with my excitement, but it did nothing to get him in. I squatted, I kneeled, I went back to squatting, my big behind getting in the way, my darned leg cramping. I huffed and puffed and I blushed. The image of a sex goddess I wanted to project was crumbling to let the real me shine through: I was a college nerd, frustrated with her first B-.
You might wonder: What about him? In retrospect, I think he got off to watching me struggle. Or, rather, to feeling me struggle. His big cock would stretch my entrance in weird angles, getting covered in the elixir he had worked hard to juice. His 42-year-old ego probably grew on the face of my youth devotion to this project. I kind of get it now. A virginal 19-year-old, the cute nerd struggling to ride a 42-year-old’s dick? That’s probably in the list of upcoming Pure Taboo plot lines.
His patience paid off when I finally fit the puzzle pieces together, when my hips lowered onto his and my flesh enveloped his hard cock. He did not split me; I split myself with him. I still remember his grunt and his hands slowly moving to my hips. “Fuck… there you go, baby.”
I had done it. I had filled myself up with his cock, and, after the customary minute, my insides had successfully stretched around him. Time for the rodeo.
I started moving up and down slowly, my knees on the bed, focused on the sensation of his cock traveling inside me. I became immediately hooked to the control it gave me. Lover laid back and supervised my experimentation with different directions and speeds.
But even the most patient instructors reach a point where they take matters into their own hands, and that’s what he did. With his hands on my hips he began to push me in the right direction. He helped me find the perfect angle and direction that would build up pleasure for us both. He only withdrew his hands once I had mastered it. He crossed his arms behind his head, enjoying the spectacle.
This brief moment of instruction paid off. It was all the young cumslut needed to learn. I maintained the motion partly because it had become easy, but mostly because the rewards were immediate. Even my inexperienced pussy knew it was right. He felt it around him and his words became more encouraging.
“Keep riding like that, baby. You’re gonna make yourself come around me.”
With perfect timing, he moved his fingers to the sweet pleasure spot between my labia, and he began circling it as I rode him. Fuck. I was riding my first cock like a champ and he was rewarding me for it. Learner instinct kicked in and I started moving faster, no longer mindful of the image I wanted to project. My flesh bounced with each ride. I was sweaty and flustered. I was moaning in a different language.
“You’re going to make me cum, sweetheart. Just keep riding cock like that, okay?”
He grunted when even my relatively small breasts started to bounce and he moved his free hand to them, briefly feeling the bounce and encouraging it with a gentle slap. The young slut was doing well. I felt dirty with his approval, with his fingers on my clit, with my newfound ability to control my orgasm and someone else’s. All of this, if you have learned anything from my previous stories, is what would push me over the edge.
Pleasure built up so fast that he had to return his hand to my hips to steady me. I no longer remember what I saw, what he said, because I was barely holding on. It became hard to breathe. I rode him hard and fast until I came. Strong hands held my arms as I leaned over, cumming hard around my first riding victory.
I don’t know if he came before or after I did, but in my daze he pulled me off his dick before the full condom would slip off and leak.
The learning goal was met. College nerd, consummate slut, earned her A+. After all, it turned out I was a natural learner.
That was probably the first of the many lessons he would teach me. He seemed to enjoy my eagerness and my talent for learning. And, really, his teaching was so good that I still rely on those lessons from time to time.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/udyjh7/how_i_first_learned_to_ride_fm_then_f19_m42