[mf] I got to be a lesbian’s first man

I met Jenny (not her real name) on tinder, that lovely, awful, godsend of a hellhole. She was 22, half Japanese and half Korean (she brought me some Korean bakery items– bless), around 5’2 and slender. She was pretty insecure about her appearance, but had no reason to be– she had a great figure and a really pretty face. Our conversation started out fairly sexual and we quickly made plans to watch Infinity War on netflix. The day of, we’re talking about sex (what we like, what we don’t, what we want, etc.) and she drops the bomb on me…

Not only has she only been with one other person, but that other person was a female. So I’d be her first guy. I’m floored by this, but immediately tone down the sexting and make sure she knows we can take things at her speed, that we don’t even have to get naked tonight if she doesn’t want to. She’s appreciative and tells me that she’s still interested in having a guy take control, interested in the ‘Daddy’ role, etc. The conversation eventually reaches a lull as she takes a nap and I go to yoga, then to the climbing gym.

Just a quick note about what I look like– 5’10, 155 lbs and athletic, thanks to said yoga and rock climbing. Covered in tattoos and chest hair, olive skin, thick beard, and hazel eyes.

I’m texting her later and not getting any answer, and I’m about to give up when she finally gets back to me that she overslept her nap a bit, then got cold feet kinda, but is getting showered and will head over shortly. A whirlwind of events, I know. She tells me she’s only going to wear a t-shirt and some yoga pants, so I dress similarly (but with basketball shorts instead). I’m thrilled, though– yoga pants are a gift from god.

So she arrives, and I greet her outside, give her a hug, and invite her in. I fix us a pair of drinks– Jack and diet– and we head to my loft. She’s looking at my bookshelves and we’re talking about school (she’s at the local community college), her job (at said Korean bakery), and a ton of things. She asks to smoke, so I oblige her, although I don’t partake because it generally makes me anxious. We talk about Marvel and what our Endgame theories are (this took place last March), and somehow the conversation turns to relationships.

She tells me about her ex girlfriend and what her experiences with toys, kinks, etc. are. I restate that we don’t have to do anything, and we can just cuddle up for the movie, but she suggests we get another drink and talk some more. We do, and I begin casually touching her– a hand on her shoulder as she walks up the stairs in front of me, a hand on her leg as she tells me about the different toys she’s used with her ex. She eventually suggests we watch the movie, but that we should do it in my bed, as opposed to the loft. I set it up, hit play, and we get about two minutes in before she asks me to kiss her.

She gasps and I ask her if anything’s wrong, but she tells me it’s just unusual to feel facial hair on her face… but that she likes it. We take off our respective glasses and continue kissing heavily, and I let my hands slowly wander to her chest. She leans into my touch, and her shirt, then her bra both come off. Although she’s insecure about her appearance, she has a great body, perfect skin tone, and wonderful B cup breasts. As I have her lay back and I begin kissing her chest and licking her nipples, she keeps on saying, “Oh god,” and “oh wow,” and “oh fuck,” and I know we’re gonna have a good night.

I peel her yoga pants off and begin kissing her through her panties and teasing her inner thighs. She’s going nuts and her yellow bikini-style panties are absolutely drenched. I eventually pull those off, too, and am greeted with a perfectly hairless, pink innie. She’s visibly wet and I can’t wait any longer before I dig in. She tastes delightful and I have my arms hooked around her thighs to put a little pressure on her flat stomach– not to restrain her, just to make her feel held. And she’s panting and moaning and grabbing my hands and pulling what little hair of mine she has to pull.

When I feel her orgasm approaching, I take one of my hands back and ease one, then another finger inside of her. She’s comfortable with that, so I add a third. She’s practically shaking at this point, and when I continue working over her clit with my tongue, she tells me she’s going to cum soon. So I begin curling my fingers against her g spot and she begins bucking her hips, and I feel her pussy lips clenching as she begins squirting. I take my mouth off and get on my knees, gripping her hair and looking her in the eyes, “That’s it babygirl, cum for Daddy, make a mess for me, Princess,” and she just about melted into the bed, nearing tears from the intensity of her climax. When I finally let her recover, she’s shaking, and I have her clean off my grooly fingers before kissing her deeply.

I ask her if I can fuck her and she responds with a ragged, “Please.” I hurry a condom on (stay safe, kids!) and pull her hamstrings to my stomach and run the tip of my erection along her slick folds. I use it to rub her clit before she looks me in the eyes and again says “Please,” she bites her lip, “fuck me.” I press inside of her and she gasps again, that cute, sexy thing that girls do when something feels unexpectedly good. Each inch or so, I ask if she’s ok, if she needs me to stop. She shakes her head. I reach a hand around her thigh and start stroking her clit with my thumb, eliciting little quivers up her spine and down her legs.

Once I sink every inch of myself inside of her, I check in again, but she says she feels amazing, a sentiment confirmed by the way her eyes are rolling back in her head. I tell her to look at me, and when she does, I rub her clit faster and say, “Be a good little girl and cum on Daddy’s cock.” The words send another jolt into her, and I swear I could feel her pussy clench a little tighter. I swivel my hips gently, just a tiny bit, but let my thumb do the work until she’s asking, begging me, “Please, please Daddy, can I cum?” I give her permission and once I feel her pussy begin its rhythmic clenching, I start rearing my hips back and fucking her. Slowly at first, but I quickly build up speed, extending her orgasm and making her moans quaver and gradually get louder. I fuck her hard enough that my balls slap against her ass, and that’s when I cum, thrusting in as far as I can and unloading my balls as well as a torrent of foul language.

I gently extricate myself and do away with the condom cuddling up for a few minutes before insisting she let me give her a massage. Steve Rogers finally makes his appearance in the movie as I have her get on her stomach facing the screen. You see, my biggest turn on in life is my partner’s pleasure. Nothing makes me harder than seeing her wet, hearing her moan, feeling her grip me in a silent scream. So I love giving massages. I take my time scratching her head, rubbing her neck and her shoulders, massaging every one of her 33 vertebrae down to her sacrum (thanks, yoga teacher training).

I dig into her shoulder blades and go down her arms, I rub her lovely ass, of course teasing between her cheeks and admiring her hairless pussy and tightly puckered asshole. She’s squirming again, clearly hoping for round two, and I’m hard enough for it, but I keep going. Down her thighs and her calves, even her feet for a minute or two before coming back up her legs I rub her ass cheeks in circles, parting them and watching her arousal drip down onto my already wet sheets. I trace my thumbs along her inner thighs, just outside of her outer lips. Finally, I begin stroking those wet lips, and I hear her exhale deeply. I lean in and lick from her clit to her asshole, but only briefly, before she asks me to fuck her again. How could I refuse?

I don a rubber and she goes to get on her hands and knees, but I tell her to lie flat, wrapping my arms around her and entering her from behind. She guides a hand to her throat and I nibble her ear lobe, already beginning to rub her clit. Before I can even fill her neck with my hot breath and tell her to ask permission, she’s already repeating those magic words, “Please, Daddy.” I tell her, no, that she can cum when she feels me cum. Her moans become loud enough to warrant a gag, and I have just the thing– her yellow cotton panties from earlier, still wet.

I last a little longer this time, feeling her moans of pleasure with the hand on her throat and finally telling her she can cum. Her body is wracked with a climax as mine experiences the same thing, and again I feel her pussy clench on my dick, although this time it lets out a gush of fluids onto my sheets. In a ragged voice, I tell her what a good girl she is, and hold myself inside of her until I’m finally ready to drag myself away.

We cuddle up and I’m out like a light. Fun post script to that story– I wake up a couple hours later, literally just as the credits start rolling, and she’s gone. I check the bathroom and every other room in the house, I check for her car outside, and there’s no trace of her. Thanos had just snapped so I half thought I was in a dream and she got snapped away or something, because she wasn’t answering my texts, either. Eventually, the next day she gets back to me and says she was confused about her sexuality and wanted to go. We got together once more, so I suppose she wasn’t *that* confused, but perhaps that’s what I get for having sex with someone I maybe shouldn’t have? Oh well, good memories nonetheless.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/lvbhnq/mf_i_got_to_be_a_lesbians_first_man