I’m a 30 something wanting to share some of my most memorable sexual encounters. Some are passionate, some are primal, and some are just humorous (at my expense usually). Not sure where to start, so I figure going through them chronologically is probably the easiest and most efficient way. I swear that this is all true as far as my memory goes, but maybe time has embellished things a bit. Anyway, here’s the first story, in this case the story of my first blowjob:
At the time of this story I was 19 and a socially awkward nerd, however reasonably good looking. I still am a nerd, but now I’m more self-aware (and better looking thanks to a haircut and a beard). Anyway, I made it through high school with my virginity intact despite several parties interested in relieving me of it. It wasn’t that I lacked interest or libido, but more of a lack of initiative and a sort of honor-based disregard. Idolizing Nikola Tesla and other lifelong bachelors dedicated to their works, I just considered my carnal interest in women a distraction from the important things.It wasn’t until I got my first real job that I really began to be overwhelmed by my sexual urges. I was a video game tester, and yes it was pretty much exactly like Grandma’s Boy minus the chimpanzee. A bunch of smelly geeks crammed into office buildings for seemingly endless shifts, always dicking around, getting baked, and very few women. Lizzie and her friend Shannon were pretty much the only attractive ones out of nearly a hundred testers. We “worked” 80 hours weeks at times and even though it was simply testing video games, the tediousness would get to everyone.
After a long week the whole team would want to blow off some steam, and fortunately one guy in middle management, Carl, lived in a condo just a few blocks away. Carl would host big parties on Friday nights and pretty much everyone would go, even a recluse like me.There would be drinking, dancing, and of course for a bunch of testers: video games! Rock Band was a staple and since nobody wanted to sing I would always step up. My singing voice is in my opinion much more appealing than my speaking voice. I have a sort of nasally Jesse Eisenberg/Michael Cera speaking voice, but fall somewhere between Damon Albarn and Thom Yorke as far as the general tone/vibe of my singing voice. I don’t know why I become a somber British man upon singing even though I am from the US, but whatever, I’ll absolutely take it.
Anyway, I got really drunk that night because Lizzie was making it her mission to see me hammered. I’m pretty reserved and always tried to stay at a moderate buzz, but this violet-haired snakebite sporting vixen was not having it. She kept refilling my drinks until I was belting out songs with a charisma and energy that I otherwise would have subdued. Lizzie was delighted to see me acting in such a vibrant fashion. I was leading whole choruses of party-goers through some 80s and 90s hits until I hit a blurry drunken wall of stupor.
My head was spinning from all the drinks Lizzie had been pushing on me, and life seemed to be moving at a very strange staggering framerate. I asked Carl if there was somewhere I could rest for a minute or two, and he showed me to the spare bedroom that was doubling as a coat room. I flung myself down on the bed, and listened to the din of the party as my vision swam with after-images.
I heard a commotion outside, like two or three, maybe four, guys arguing loudly. I recognized the voices of a few including Carl so I knew it was associated with our party, but honestly I was too fucked up to pay attention. Several blissful quiet and still moments passed with only the murmur of the party and the outdoor commotion until a pale light poured into the spare bedroom as someone cracked the door.
“Oh, sorry I didn’t know anyone was in here,” said an unfamiliar feminine voice.
*It’s fine* I tried to stammer before sighing and giving up on speech.
“Can I just use the mirror to, umm, freshen up?” she said, stepping in and closing the door before I could muster a response.
I just waved to the mirror and nodded my approval, hoping she could see better than I could in the dim light. She sauntered over lithely, giving me a cheeky grin that lit up her pert features as she did so. About 5’6” short pixie-ish black hair and quite pale, she fit nicely into my sort of goth/ALT thing. She kept glancing over at me as she examined herself in the mirror as if to say “Well, what are you waiting for?” I had a thing for Lizzie, but she probably only saw me as a friend. Maybe it was the alcohol…no, it was definitely the alcohol, but I felt more confident and more assertive in that moment, even if speech and motor functions were difficult to manage.
I stood up carefully, trying to be slow and deliberate so as not to reveal how difficult an endeavor it was. This mystery woman took out a small cylinder, uncapped it and ran it along her lips as she pursed them while staring into the mirror. She pressed them together then back apart with a smacking sound.
“You know, you’re a pretty damn good singer,” she said as she glanced over at me trying to stand and smiled impishly, “not a great dancer, but you have a great voice.”
I didn’t want to speak, because some Eisenbergian or Cera-esque nasally nerd babbling would definitely ruin everything. So I just walked over to her, got real close until we were both pressed against the wall next to the full body mirror. Her now clearly bright blue eyes looked a bit surprised as I moved in close, but in more of an intrigued way than an alarmed one. So I kissed her.
She tasted like the fruity lip gloss that she had just applied, and her tongue pushed its way into my mouth as she let out a gasping breath. We stumbled back to the bed full of coats as I grabbed her by the waist and pushed onto the bed. Feeling my way up under her shirt, I cupped and squeezed her small breasts. I didn’t have any idea what I was doing and she could probably tell, rolling us over so that she was on top. She bit and licked at my ears and neck then pulled away suddenly. She paused as if listening to something, then shook her head in disgust/disbelief, and looked back at me.She slid down off the bed, onto her knees, undoing my pants and pulling them down to my thighs along with my boxers.
Somehow, even with probably pure alcohol coursing through my veins, my erection sprang free. At just under 7 inches, I know I’m no pornstar, but just big enough to be a bit surprising. I’m a pretty thin dude and only 5’8” so it looks proportionally sorta impressive at times.“Ohhh, I thought I felt something in there,” she said playfully.She took hold with one hand and immediately engulfed the the tip giving it a suck that ended in a loud POP. She got right to work bobbing on my cock. I had never felt anything like it and only pictured it in my jerk-off fantasies. As she worked her way further and further down my shaft, I could see her side-eyeing my hand that wasn’t busy playing with her perky breasts. After about half a minute she reached out, grabbed my wrist and placed my hand on the back of her head. Got it.
I took a handful of her already messy hair and pushed her face into me. Feeling her frenzied breath rush through her upturned nose, in and out, in and out, as little gusts of air tickled my skin, I distinctly remember thinking I had gotten this whole “sex is a distraction” thing entirely wrong. I let her up for air, and she coughed/giggled as she caught her breath. She paused to listen again, and I realized the shouting and commotion outside was still going on with more voices joining in.“I think I have to go soon, so you know, try and finish” she said very matter of fact.
She went right back to slurping and sucking only faster and more vigorously. Her tongue felt amazing as it swirled around my shaft. She looked amazing with her soft lips sucking so fervently on the tip of my cock. She looked up at me with big blue eyes batting her long lashes, begging me to fill her mouth with cum, but…whiskey dick.Eventually I just shook my head *No*. I could see she was disappointed, but it just wasn’t going to happen. She gave me one last lick and then a kiss before straightening up her shirt and hair. She grabbed her purse and stepped to the door.
“Maybe next time,” she whispered with a wink, before slipping back into the party.I put my now sticky and throbbing dick away and just sprawled on the coats. A few moments later the door cracked open and Lizzie peaked in. She had one of those shit-eating grins on her face. Lizzie was a prankster and also all about drama. I looked back with suspicion and for the first time in ages spoke.
“What? What is it?” I said with my mind searching through all the possibilities. Was there a hidden camera? Did she liquor me up and send that woman in here on purpose? I went through all of my ideas in moments, but Lizzie solved the mystery for me.“I can’t believe you fucked your boss’s girlfriend. You are fucking WILD tonight,” Lizzie said in disbelief and very clear mirth.
“Wait, that’s Phil’s girlfriend?” I slurred trying to make sense of it.
Lizzie couldn’t stop laughing, “Yeah, and by the way everyone heard you guys. Real fucking Smooth, dude.”
There was nothing left except damage control, “Uhh, ahhh, but I didn’t fuck her. Sh-she just blew me”
Lizzie laughed, “Oh, that’s all? I’m sure he’ll forget the whole thing.”“I-I didn’t even CUM though,” I continued with my drunk logic. Lizzie just laughed more.“It’s fiiiiine, he got into a fight with Carl in the parking lot anyway. He got let go,” she said reminding me that they’d cull the herd a bit at our company on the the last Friday of each month. Black Friday we called it.
“So I guess technically he isn’t really your boss anymore, anyway. Kinda ruins the thrill huh?” Lizzie teased elbowing me in the side.I never did see or hear from Phil or his girlfriend again. I learned her name some time later, but as I really didn’t want to get mixed up in even more trashy Jerry Springer type drama, I never did reach out to her. Hopefully they broke up because clearly things weren’t going well. He was always kind of a dick, as evidenced by starting a fight in a parking lot. Still not really sure of her motives. Maybe she was just done with Phil’s shit for the night? Maybe she really had come in just to “freshen up” and just rolled with my advances because Phil is, as has been established, kind of a dick? I don’t know. Pondering it doesn’t keep me up at night, that’s for sure.
Lizzie never did let me forget it, nor any of my other coworkers. I left that company long ago, but Lizzie and I are still friends, and whenever we get into a playful argument and she’s running out of points to make she’ll just yell “I didn’t even CUM though.” In private, in a crowded room, whenever/wherever. What are friends for?
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/c7ao3h/my_first_blowjob