Alright boys…here’s the full [Andrea story](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/olyklw/swiss_exchange_student_the_horniest_ive_ever_been/). Apologies for the wait, u/chiller619.
*In pitch darkness, Andrea pulled down my boxers, gently wrapped her fingers around my dick, and whispered, “How do you like your handjobs?”*
Though I grew up in a typical family with two sons and two parents, 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 did see them as sisters, until somewhere around puberty.
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 break into their rooms and smell their panties. Yup. I’m not proud of it, but I must have done it at least 20 times. As a 13 year old, I’d sneak into their rooms while everyone was out, and dig through their dirty laundry like a titalated raccoon. Sometimes their dirty underwear would be hanging on a clothing rack. And 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 all right. 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.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 (she pronounced it “An-drey-yah”) – the Swiss girl next door (as her room was literally adjacent to mine).
This is the part where I try my best to describe Andrea’s physical appearance. I could say that she stood at about 5’5″ (168 cm) and had shoulder length straight blonde hair, a thin waist, and B-cup tits. But more aptly, I would like to direct you to a PH video that reminds me of her each time I watch it – just search “Marry Queen”, and it should be the first one (she’s wearing a grey knit sweater). Coincidentally, Andrea also had on a knit sweater the first time we got frisky.
One sunny afternoon, I was studying in the kitchen/dining area just minding my own business (I was working and doing summer school at the time). As I was typing away on my laptop, Andrea came into the kitchen, scantily clad in beachwear. She was wearing a black bikini top, matching black bikini bottoms, and a pair of jean shorts; I could tell the bottoms were black because her button and fly were fully undone. She might’ve also had a canvas bag slung over her shoulder, but I can’t remember. Andrea walked into the middle of the kitchen and just stood there for at least 3 solids minutes, seemingly texting someone on her phone. I pretended to continue working on my laptop as I stole glances at her B-cup side boobs. Then as abruptly as she appeared, she turned and left. Interesting behaviour (she didn’t even get anything from the kitchen?)
Later that evening, my Chinese dad calls me out of my room. “Can you help do Andrea’s bed?” (I heard something entirely different). I stepped out of my room and into Andrea’s room. This was the first time I had been in her room (she wasn’t yet one of my panty sniffing victims). It smelled like Nivea lotion with a hint of cigarette smoke (I had seen her “secretly” smoking out her window on multiple occasions). Apparently, Andrea didn’t like the metal IKEA bunkbed that was initially in her room – it was too squeaky. “Just switch it with the spare wooden frame downstairs”, my dad said. So Andrea and I spent the next hour and a half working together, dismantling and assembling bed frames. I can’t remember what we talked about, but I remember it felt flirtatious, at least for me. Before I left her room, I asked if she had Facebook and she added me shortly after.
To be honest, I had a crush on Andrea since the first day she moved in. Beyond my family, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut about her. The most helpful friends were Danny, a buddy from church, and Kitah, my coworker. Kitah had pushed me to just tell her how I felt, and try to make the most of the summer before she left. It was good advice. After work that day, I dropped by a convenience store and picked up a nice pack of Marlboros. I didn’t smoke so I asked the guy to pick one out for me. When I got home, I stuck a note on it that said something like “enjoy smoking out the window :)” in Swiss German, and cleverly slipped it under her door. I felt good. That should tell her how I feel. A gift that’s practical *and* demonstrates my acceptance of her poor health choices. Nice one. Now we wait…
Andrea got home later than usual that night. That must have been the longest wait of my young life (and this was before text message read receipts). I sat at my desk, trying to focus on my studies while my ears pricked up whenever someone went up the stairs. Finally, close to midnight, Andrea was home. I heard her open her door, close her door, open her door again, and go into the bathroom to take a shower. She must have saw the smokes when she went into her room to drop off her stuff, I thought. Now she’s probably in the shower, smiling to herself as she’s concocting the best way to respond. I heard her emerge from the bathroom, go back into her room, then turn on a blow dryer. I was still at my desk, sitting on my hands and patiently staring at our Facebook chat. The blow dryer turned off. Then about ten minutes went by – still nothing. Fuck maybe she’s asleep. I opened my door and pretended to go to the bathroom, checking the gap underneath her door as I passed. To my dismay, her lights were still on. Maybe she’s still thinking? Maybe she fell asleep with her lights on? Maybe she’s already smoking them? I went back to my seat and resumed my position, staring at the Facebook chat window.
Fuck it. I typed “Did you get the thing? Haha” and hit send (I really wish I could reference or c/p my old chat with Andrea, but unfortunately I have since deleted my account). Almost immediately, she responded with “yes! thank you :)”. I was surprised by the quick response – was she waiting for *me* to say something? Were we both just sitting at our desks waiting? Kinda cute now that I think about it. “Haha I wasn’t sure if you liked that brand haha.” I waited for her to type back, but no response came from Andrea. As 30 seconds went by, I started doubting whether it was absolutely necessary to begin and end my previous message with a “haha”. Then the “Andrea is typing” thing popped up. Then it disappeared. Then it reappeared. Then it disappeared again. Ah fuck it, yolo (’twas 2012 baby) – I typed “hey I like you :)”, and hit send. A couple seconds later a “me too :)” came flying back. What??? Just like that?! Fuck, my heart was racing (and I feel it now as I am reliving the moment lol). “So what do we do now? Should I come over to your room??” I said smoothly. “you can :)”. DA FUQ?! This girl is crazy. But should I though?? I took a few seconds to think about it. What was I to do even if I did go over to her room? After all, I was “good Christian boy” and had only kissed and fingered girls up until this point. I’ll spare you the details, but we decided to plan a date instead. The next day, we were both going to call in sick for school/work and spend a day at the beach together.
To this day (I’m 28 now), that outing with Andrea was the best first date I’d ever been on. I liked her. She liked me. It happened organically. We had an entire sunny weekday at the beach together. To make the most of the day, I remember we started at about 7AM (we were both used to waking up early anyway). I don’t actually remember most of what happened that day, but I have a particular snippet that has been burned into my mind. We were down right by the water, and I sat leaning against a log of driftwood. Andrea was laid down on her belly, with her head rested on my belly. I playfully undid her bikini top as I rubbed sun block on her smooth back. Seeing her up close lathered with sun block, I noticed she had fine wisps of blonde hair on certain parts of her body and arms. I continued massaging her back and gave her a kiss on her head. She looked up at me, squinting at the sun, and told me this was the horniest she had ever been on a first date. I wish I could’ve stayed in that moment forever. We only ended up leaving because a guy at an adjacent log had said hello and started up a conversation (I took this as a hint to dial back the PDA). Before we left, we found another log of driftwood and sat on top of it. Andrea was sitting cross-legged with her beach towel over her lap. My hand was already on her thigh, but I slid up her inner thigh and into the side of her bikini bottoms, discovering a shaved and very wet pussy. “Wow, that’s wet” “I told you I was horny!!” she laughed embarrassingly, as she checked if anyone had overheard. We walked to sushi restaurant for lunch, then ended the date at a hookah lounge.
When we got back home at around 3PM and arrived at an empty house. We showered (separately), and then went to our respective rooms. As I sat on my bed, I thought about sex; judging by how the day went, I felt I could’ve done it right then if I wanted to. Still a virgin, a mixture of anxiety, shame and guilt began bubbling up in my tummy.
When you are raised Christian, you can likely guess that sex is an especially taboo topic at home and in the church. The pastor, (and basically everyone else), spoke of fornication like it was the ultimate sin – once you crossed that “line” of having sex, there was no turning back. It was so taboo, in fact, that no one ever mentioned any other sexual acts. It was just “sex”. What about fingering? What about blowjobs? And eating pussy? What if I didn’t cum? What if it was just tip? What if it was just the tip in her butthole? I had to know exactly where this line was so I could shove my dick right up against it. I was now lying in bed as these thoughts circulated my mind. I got up, and opened my door, and went into Andrea’s room.
When I opened the door, she was lying on her bed with her eyes closed, wearing just a knit sweater and white panties. I closed her door and got in bed with her. At the beach, we had already gone over the above theological discussion, and Andrea was okay with it either way – she liked me whether or not I wanted to have sex with her. What a great girl. I helped her out of sweater, and started kissing and squeezing her bare boobs for the first time. Jesus Christ, they are so plump and soft, I said to my best friend Jesus Christ. With her panties still on, I rubbed the outside of them until a wet spot emerged. Then tunnelling into her blanket, I spread her legs apart and lifted the crotch of her panties to the side and began licking her pussy. After a few minutes, it got too hot under the blanket so I came up for air. Still in my boxers and t-shirt, I decided that’s as far as I would go. We laid in bed hugging each other. It was nice. Shortly after I left and went back to my room.
I had trouble sleeping that night. Knowing full well that I had to get up at 6am the next morning, I kept tossing and turning well past midnight. Again, I was lost in thought: Jesus loves murderers. Jesus loves prostitutes. Those prostitutes probably gave out handjobs. Jesus probably even loves those men that paid for said handjobs. So how bad is just one handjob? Plus I’m not even paying for mine – there would be no audit trail (I was studying accounting at the time). Fuck it. I silently got out of bed, and once again pretended to go to the bathroom (turned out I actually had to pee). On my way back, I was a bit worried that my brother was still up; so I grabbed both my (actual) doorknob and Andrea’s doorknob, and simultaneously closed and opened the two doors.
I silently closed Andrea’s door behind me. I couldn’t see a thing, and Andrea didn’t move either. Clearly she was asleep, but I was too horny to feel bad for disturbing her. I got into her bed, and picked up where we left off earlier that afternoon by waking her up with a kiss. I could feel her smiling with my lips. I took her hand and gently guided it down to my probably rock-hard penis. In pitch darkness, Andrea pulled down my boxers, gently wrapped her fingers around my dick, and whispered, “How do you like your handjobs?” Wut. How do I like them?? There are settings?! Holy shit this girl is amazing. I whispered back “haha I dunno, how about like this”, and proceeded to give her wrist a handjob. I didn’t even cum, but after a few minutes of receiving my first handjob, I decided that’s where we’d stop for the night. Simultaneously, I also decided I hated handjobs.
A couple days later, I was off to church summer camp. It was a four day retreat, and when we were not singing praise & worship, reading our bibles or listening to sermons, I was hanging out with Danny. We mostly discussed the Andrea predicament – he called her “Swiss Cheese” so anyone overhearing would be none the wiser. “Don’t do it man. Don’t cross that line. You already went halfway already with the Cheese, but it’s not too late. Once you cross that line, there’s no turning back. You don’t wanna make that mistake man. I’ve made it. I can’t turn back. But it’s not too late for you.” What a load of bull, I thought. And of course he did it already – easy for him to say. On the last day of camp, I made up my mind.
The moment I got home from camp, I dropped off my bag downstairs and immediately went up to Andrea’s room. I didn’t even know if she was home, but I opened her door, and there she was sitting at her desk smiling at me. Genuinely, there’s something oddly attractive about a girl in her natural habit – just wearing sweatpants, glasses, and her hair in a messy bun. We were home alone again. I closed the door behind me and gave her a hug from behind her chair. I nuzzled my face into her neck and took a bite. Her neck tasted good. As I started massaging her braless chest through her baggy t-shirt, I helped her up from her chair and continued in the bed. Our clothes started to come off, and our breathing became heavier and heavier.
My first time having sex was a surreal experience. Heck, every time is kinda surreal if I think about it. For the vast majority of its life, your dick always feels cold – even in the shower, its in a constant struggle, battling to pull into your body for warmth. Then for the first time, essentially since childbirth, you reintroduce your dick to a hot and wet mess of an environment, its natural habitat, and boy is your penis grateful. Andrea was straddling me. I watched as Andrea sat down and her pussy enveloped my penis. I didn’t even have a condom on because she said she was on the pill. I knew about birth control pills at the time, but I was still skeptical of their effectiveness. Condom or not, I already decided within that I would not be cumming inside her – it was just too risky for a first timer such as myself.
After a bit of cowgirl, we switched to missionary – a timeless staple of sexual intercourse, and for good reason too. Just as I had watched in many porn videos, I inserted my dick slowly, and pulled it almost all the way out just before inserting it slowly again. My rhythm was akin to those rollercoasters that abruptly slow down at the peaks, just before plummeting down at full speed again. I love the feeling of the initial tip’s penetration. Not to sound like a braggart, but it only took a few penetrations before I didn’t even need my hand to guide it in. No hands, baby. It was as if the natural arc of the shaft was made for the missionary position. I pulled out my dick again, and nudged the tip against her pussy lips. It almost seems like it wouldn’t go in, but with just a little encouragement and pussy juice… ahh… in it goes again. What a sensation.
Right, doggystyle. I asked her to turn over and bring her knees right up to the edge of the bed. I stood up behind her with my dick in my right hand. From this angle, I could only see the end of her tailbone/ass crack, but I remembered a neat trick from watching countless POV videos. I grabbed my dick and rubbed the tip up and down her pussy, pretending to tease her, and then gently nudged forward and into her – “That’s my asshole”. Whoops, second time’s the charm. I rubbed up and down to tease her some more, and then gently I – “Asshole again”. Laughing, we flipped over and got into missionary again. (Note: I later realized her pussy dried up in between missionary and doggy, so spitting onto the tip probably would’ve done the trick).
We resumed the missionary position. Though the above paragraphs seem to read like a lengthy experience, we were probably only 7 minutes in from the moment she left her chair. As I successfully inserted my dick again, I felt a sudden urge to cum. “I have to cum,” I said in between penis inserts. “Where should I cum?” “Just cum…” “Haha what?” “Just cum inside me” She was confident because she was on the pill after all. I had a feeling she might say that, but unbeknownst to her, I had long decided that would be the last place I’d cum. But fuck, I really had to cum right now. I continued thrusting. “How about I cum on your boobs?” “No, it’s messy. Just do it inside me” “How about in your mouth?” “NO!” Fuck fuck fuck. I could feel the cum and blood rising up my shaft like a volcano about to blow its top. Fuck I can’t cum inside her. There’s no way. What if I got her pregnant? My first time, and I get someone pregnant?? Maybe that’s what Danny meant about not being able to come back!? FUCK. I’M CUMMINGGGG. I pulled out so vigorously that my dick flung around like a metal coil doorstop. I watched in slow motion as a week’s worth of jizz came spewing out – each pulsating blast splattered against her stomach, then chest, then neck, then face, then my own chin, giving *myself* a facial.
And then rest of the summer went on like that. Like Danny said, once I crossed that line there was no turning back right? We probably fucked at least every other day for a month. Some days I would just sneak into her room in the morning and wake her up by pulling her panties to the side and eating her out. It was a pretty awesome summer indeed. And before I knew it, she had to return to Switzerland. It actually didn’t end as smoothly as we had anticipated as we caught feelings (technically we did from the beginning). When Andrea left, I started a new school year and felt a little lonely. But fortunately, that void was briefly filled by a Japanese exchange student (that I met at school), named [Saori](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ojs517/car_sex_with_a_japanese_exchange_student_mf/).
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/p1ikw1/7_min_swiss_exchange_student_the_horniest_ive
Really sweet and lustful great writing!
“Jesus Cbrist they are so plump and firm, I said to my best friend Jesus Christ”. Fuck me, that’s funny.
You explored the space and wrote a pretty great story here, bud. Kudos