The first time I was close enough to lick a pussy I lamely just blew on it. I fingered the girl, Lauren Britt, while she was lying on a couch as I knelt beside her. I knew I was expected to “eat her out." High school locker room banter had told me that, but the smell of her sex was strong and a bit off-putting. I blew on her exposed clit as I pushed and curled two fingers of my hand into her.

I was an eighteen-year-old college freshman and it was the closest my face had ever been to a vagina. She, Lauren, should have graduated in spring with her fiancé but had two courses remaining for graduation. I was not a virgin but I may as well have been, fully dipped just that previous summer, after a casual girlfriend and I agreed to unburden ourselves of our virginity before heading off to different colleges.

It was Halloween. We were at Lauren’s place after being introduced at a huge costume party, she a bumblebee and me a hillbilly. The night was young. Her roommates would be partying late.

While walking to her dormitory apartment we stopped and kissed three times, each time with increased excitement. The third time she rubbed my erection through my jeans. When the door to her apartment closed behind us she led off with a blow job. Not my first,  but by far the best full swallow up to then. We would not be fucking, she made that perfectly clear straight off, she was getting married in June after all. At most, we would be “playing around”.

Fingering her on the couch in the dim light, only one table lamp was on near the apartment entrance, her lighter-than-pink pearl, from its nest of rich black pubic hair, glistened like a beacon each time my thumb passed clear of it. When I blew on it she moaned. I remembered to move my fingers more. I blew on it again. She said that felt so good.

She sensed my hesitation. After I blew on it a third time she took hold of my wrist and lifted my hand with dripping fingers to her mouth and sucked on the two of them. Then she pulled me in for a kiss. She guided my hand back between her legs and I slipped my fingers into her as she kept hold of my wrist while we continued kissing.

She gave me a moment to push and massage the inside of her cunt before she lifted my hand again, this time to my face. I took my wet fingers into my mouth and my heart rejoiced at the tangy but pristine taste.

“Good?”

“Yes, very.”

She stood and removed the yellow satin shorts, part of her bumble bee costume, that were bunched up at her ankles, and sat upright on the couch with her legs astride where I knelt. The black leotard she had crafted into a bee costume with yellow ribbon and gossamer wings had convenient snaps at the crotch that had long been undone and pulled up.

“Go ahead then, eat me.”

I did, taking guidance from her, taking my time, coming up for air and a shared smile, before burrowing my face and tongue back into her. The taste was like nothing else in this world. I couldn’t seem to get enough. I tried to ignore her pearly button for minutes on end only occasionally allowing my nose to tease it lightly.

I explored the outer lips of her pussy with my tongue and tugged on them with my lips. The inner folds fascinated me and I took my time there too. Lauren responded when I pressed my whole face into her and swiveled it around, searching with my tongue and lips as if I were trying to burrow my way in.

With my hands pushing her knees up toward her shoulders she was mine to explore. Each time I returned to her clitoris, drawing it rapidly in and out of my pursed lips and flicking it with my tongue, she moaned and twitched. She quieted after growing accustomed so I returned to probing her hole. She began undulating against me.

She put her hands on my head and pressed my face to her thick bush. I never knew a woman could get so wet. I kept lapping at her even as she humped my face and moaned and chanted to God, to Heaven, and to me until seemingly exhausted. She finally pushed me away.

I sat back on my heels and watched her recover. She closed her legs. I wiped my hand down my face from my nose to my chin and then wiped my hand on the thigh of my pants. She had made me pull them back up into place after the BJ. We were only still just "playing," so before she let me pull down her shorts, she wanted to ensure at least one barrier between us remained.

It was all for naught because right after she pushed my face away from her pussy she stood up and turned to kneel on the couch with her backside to me saying, “I need you to fuck me.”

“But…”

“I know what I said, but that was before.”

“I don’t have a rubber.”

“No need, I’m on the pill.”

“Okay, but please take off the rest of your costume.”

Lauren was not a thin waif like the girls I usually found attractive. She was a big, full-bodied woman almost as tall as me and four years older. She had bigger tits than I ever imagined. To me, she was so much more than a girl.

“Yeah, I guess it looks a little silly now,” she said with a laugh.

She left her bra on and turned and knelt on the couch again. I slid in easily.

“Go real slow.”

Cavernous would be too strong a word, maybe generous would be a better description of the fit of her vagina on my cock, certainly looser than my summer fling.

I went slow. When I did an involuntary triple-pump she admonished me to “keep it slow, keep it steady”. The sight of her bare ass quivering in the dim light when I punched my cock into her was so erotic that I couldn’t help a few more quick triple-pumps however, and I loved hearing her grunt and moan another admonition to “keep it slow.”

After a few minutes of using the strap of her bra as a handle, I released the clasp. It slid off her shoulders and she maneuvered it out of her way. She began to moan quietly, like a hum, on each of my pushes. I leaned left for a few strokes then right enjoying peeks at her large swaying tits. Her long straight black hair hung down around her head like a shroud that shined even in the low light as it swung in the languorous rhythm of my thrusts.

I reached under and cupped both tits in my palms, massaging them up against her chest as they overflowed the span of my fingers. Then I pulled back on one of her upper arms to twist her for a better look. Soon I was pulling her back with both hands above her elbows. She responded by meeting my thrusts forcefully, quickening the pace.

I reemployed both hands to gather her hair into a ponytail behind her and pulled gently with my thrusts. I did it so I could see more of her face.

“Yes,” she said, “Pull my hair, fuck me harder! Oh, Fuck!

I pulled harder and soon, from her responses, I was pulling her head back forcefully by her hair. In just a few more thrusts I felt her wet vaginal walls tighten on my cock, the undulating clamp squeezed my cock tight as she moaned and squealed.

I felt like a god.

With her hair wrapped around one hand, her shoulder gripped by the other, I fucked hard and fast for maybe only thirty more seconds before I buried myself and unloaded into her with a painfully ecstatic force. Ushered out of her apartment soon after we finished to avoid being caught by her roommates, she was already in tears by the time she kissed me goodnight at the apartment door.

I was unnerved by her tears but I thought of her and what we did every moment of the next week without so much as catching a glimpse of her on campus. I wanted to see her again with all my heart. The following week, still without even a word, I grew forlorn and moped around campus, sometimes loitering across the street from Lauren’s student apartment hoping to catch sight of her and maybe talk with her again. I had no such luck. My stalking only made me sadder. I didn’t dare endanger her engagement by knocking at her apartment. My own roommate and friends wondered what was up but all I said was that I must have caught a case of mid-semester blues.

Coming from my dorm one Friday, the weekend before Thanksgiving, on my way to class I was looking at the ground when I almost bumped into her, Lauren. Turned out it was not by chance.

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No!”

“Truth?”

“I swear.”

“Thank you, I was so worried you would.”

“I can’t stop thinking of that night but I wouldn’t tell anyone, ever."

“My roommates are all going home with Rhonda this weekend. Wanna play?”

I smiled. “All weekend?”

“Bring your toothbrush.”

“When?”

“After dinner on Friday. Be out front about 7:30, okay?”

She came out and got me exactly on time. We were naked in a flash and on her bed in a sixty-nine with her on top. Having my cock sucked while eating her pussy was as close to heaven as I could imagine.

The first time she blew me it took less than a minute for me to cum in her mouth. For some reason, we sixty-nined for almost a half hour through two good, wet orgasms for her before I shot my load in her throat. I learned that keeping my mouth busy made me less focused on myself. Then again, having masturbated in the shower at my dorm before getting ready to meet her may have had something to do with it too.

Lauren riding me cowgirl was another new highlight for me. We talked and teased as she cantered along. I liked her telling me how gifted I was to have such a  talented tongue as well as a nice hard cock.

“Is it as big as Greg‘s?” I foolishly asked.

“His is thicker, but yours is harder.” There was a short silence. “Don’t ever ask a woman that question again,” she said, adding, “prettier too, you have a gorgeous cock.”

Since then, I've rarely had a woman make me feel as special as she did that night. I told her that I felt like the luckiest freshman in the world to have such a beautiful girl as her teach me about sex. What I actually said was, “such a beautiful girl with big gorgeous tits teach me about sex,” which I molded with both hands as I said it.

She told me there was a book in the school library called the Kama Sutra that detailed every position imaginable for having intercourse. Of course, I later looked it up but that weekend we tried as many as she could draw from memory.

A few weeks later in early December on the last Friday of the semester, Lauren found me again. “One last 'play-weekend' at my place? I checked the book I told you about out from the library.”

After a hilarious weekend attempting impossible sex positions, both coital and oral, it was a tearful Sunday afternoon when Lauren and I kissed goodbye for the last time.  I never saw or heard from Lauren again, until one day almost thirty years later, when I received a Facebook friend request from Lauren Thompson. The name didn’t ring a bell, at first, before I looked at her photos. Gradually, the realization dawned that it was Lauren, thin and beautiful.

“You look great!” 

“I gave up beer, bread, and dairy twenty years ago when my oldest daughter, I guess she was about six years old, asked why I was fat.”

"Still a cougar?” I wrote.

“LOL! No, still happily married with two sons and two daughters gone from the nest.”

“Your place in my heart will always be secure,” I wrote.

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