I could not believe what had just transpired. Earlier today I was mourning my non-existent sex life and in a few hours I’m going to be fucking a girl who wanted me to be her first.

Honestly I feel chuffed that my sister’s friend, Olga, wanted me to be her first. I am no master of sex, I have been with a few girls and only had one long-term relationship with Maggie. Gosh, the thought of Maggie crossing my mind sent a little guilt trip. Then I remember she has gone off to be with her lesbian lover.

Now it was my time to move on, even if it was for one night. A quiver went through my body as I recall the touch of Olga’s smaller soft hand in my own. This was something I never imagined or at least the fates were having fun with me and telling me to man up.

Never slept with a virgin before, so this was something I could only imagine. I do a double check on my preparations. Clean sheets, room semi tidy. Condoms, must not forget condoms. Music playing on my CD player… yes, I am too cheap to buy a MP3 player. Which left me, I go for a shower. Washing myself in lavender scented soap. Have to at least attempt to smell nice. Giving my teeth a quick scrub and I was ready.

Reflecting in the mirror, I wondered why Olga wanted me to be her first. I understood the whole wanting to lose it to someone she trusted etc. Five foot eleven inches, lanky and scruffy black hair. I wasn’t the hottest guy in town, maybe to alternative chicks but what can I say? My looks are not important right now.

The time now was six forty-six. Time was running out. I called for a pizza, that would do for dinner.
I dressed in my comfortable tracksuit pants and a shirt. Yes I was a sex god, note the sarcasm.

Right on seven thirty, there was a knock on the door. Olga stood, with a small duffel bag on her shoulder. She was looking cute tonight, her blonde hair was plaited and sitting on her nose, was a pair of green framed glasses. Jeans and a shirt, just simple clothes, nothing fancy.

“Hey, Regan, obviously my parents took the bait of the story. I couldn’t wear my contacts, they were annoying me. “

“Don’t worry, you look cute with your glasses on,” I reassured her. “Here, let me take your bag.”

She handed it to me and entered the living room. I went to my room and tossed her duffel bag under my bed. A quick scan of my room to make sure nothing was out of place.

The doorbell rang and I grabbed my wallet from my bedside table. I walked to the door and see the pizza chick, looking bored as she told me the total and thrust the pizza box into my hands, after I gave her the money.

I closed the door and walked into the living room.

“That pizza smells good,” Olga remarked.

I placed the box on the table and we started to eat. Through the meal, we stole quick glances at each other. How was this sex going to happen? After the meal, Olga excused herself so she could wash her hands and use the toilet.

“I read that I should use the toilet first, before anything happens, so that I don’t get a urinary tract infection.”

Fair enough.

“Meet me in my room,” I told her.

I went to the kitchen, to give my own hands a quick wash and could feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Not long now.

Then I was sitting in my room and the CD was playing.

“And I know what you mean when you give me a flash of that smile. Girl you are only a child,” crooned Bjorn, from ABBA.

Giggling came from the door way, Olga shook her head and said, “What a perfect song!”

"Oh God! She knows I listen to ABBA! I’m not the cool guy she thinks I am," I thought to myself in a panic.

“Uh, wrong CD it’s my parents,” I mumbled, ready to take it out. She grabbed my wrist and started to dance side to side.

“Don’t! I love ABBA. It’s my guilty little pleasure.”

She sang along to the song and I found myself relaxing.

After our little dance around my room, we sat on the bed, side by side. I found myself starting to stroke her back with my fingers.

Little sighs escaped her and she closed her eyes. I softly stroked her shoulders, down her spine and the sides of her torso.

An expression of bliss is on her face, eyes closed and lips apart. I couldn’t resist and kissed those soft lips. Her tongue responded in kind. I could taste pizza and cola on her breath. Then she did something which I never expected. Her tongue went under mine and she started to suckle it. My cock started to stiffen, as her small hand went to my crotch. Her small fingers stroked the outside of my pants, tracing softly along my hard cock.

A groan escaped my throat, as we pulled apart. We panted and started to undress each other. She lifted her arms up above her head and I slid her shirt off. Her upper half was adorable. She always wore shirts with jackets and I wondered why. Now the mystery was solved. She had small breasts, maybe between an A or B cup, but it suited her small frame. Large pink areolas and hard nipples greeted me.

“These are gorgeous!” I breathed.

She got up and stood in front of me, her breasts were level with my mouth. My tongue flicked her nipple. She gasped and I rubbed her other breast. Fingers clutched my hair and held my head to her bosom.

While my mouth played on her breasts, my own hands found their way under her jeans. First the button, then pulling down the zipper of the fly. I grabbed the edge of her jeans and pulled them off. She pulleped back and steps out of her jeans. She stood there, in just her pink and white striped panties.

I got up and told her to get on the bed. She complied and she stretched out on the bed. I stood at the end of the bed, to get a good look at her. Her blonde hair was undone from the plait and fanned over my pillow. Glasses were still on, making her eyes seem even wider. While my gaze went over her breasts, which had traces of my saliva drying on her hard nipples. There was a small scar on her belly button from where she and my sister had gotten their navels pierced two summers ago.

Then I looked at her panties, I just wanted to rip them off. I put my index finger under the legs of the panties and start to yank them down when I noticed small Cyrillic words inked on each side of her inner thighs.

“Olenka, what is this on your thighs?” I asked.

“I wanted to have something to represent my Russian roots, so I have 'Butterfly' on my right thigh and 'Kisses' on my left thigh.”

Ah, I get it. I kept focussed on removing her panties and tossing them to the side of the room. I grabbed her right ankle and gave her butterfly kisses from her foot to her inner thigh. She yelped little squeals of pleasure.

My nose hit against her shaven, untouched cunt.

“Whoa!” She gasped.

I looked up at her and she was watching me intently. My gaze went to her mound, a piece of silver caught my attention. I knew what it was, but I never expected Olga to have one.

I let my finger brush against her clit. I felt her wither under my touch. “My dear Olenka. Is this a fourchette? A vulva piercing?”

“Yes!” She hissed. “What of it?”

Brushing my finger over her clit again, I leaned down and flicked my tongue against it. The taste of her piercing, juices and flesh was like a dream. So ripe and fresh, like a peach.

“When did you get pierced?”

Her breathing was heavy and she breathed a couple of deep breaths, as I resumed pleasuring her with my tongue and index finger.

“A week after my 18th birthday,” she managed to reply. “Got the tattoos a few weeks ago.”

I moved my tongue inside the lips of her swollen pussy, suckling on them, blowing air. I felt her quiver all over, from my touch. The moans and incoherent mutterings were something I have never encountered before. She once again gripped my hair and held my head in place between those thighs.

Her hips lifting with each thrust of my tongue at the opening of her pussy. Her grip tightened as a huge surge went through her body. Her breath quickened and I heard a faint, “Regan...” Before she collapsed back onto the mattress.

I had brought Olga to her first oral orgasm.