It was our first date. It started in a quiet corner of a pub, the chatter was effortless and easy-going. Her smile was intoxicating and the length of her red hair, nearly touching her bottom, and level with the high stools we were sitting on, was amazing.

The conversation quickly turned to sex and although I guarded my answers somewhat, I believe she was throwing all sorts of possibilities into the mix. The one that made my eyes open, eyebrows stand on end and a lascivious grin appear on my face, was the confession that she had always wanted to try a woman.

At first, I wondered what had ever stopped her from achieving that, but for some reason or another, she had never quite gotten around to having threesomes and foursomes. I joked that we’d have to put that right, but the smile on her face told me it was no joke.

The night wore on, and I met a few of her work colleagues that popped into the bar, but I was unsure whether I’d be taking the long drive home that evening, though earlier, she had offered me the spare room for the night. That’s when I found out that her parents lived with her in a converted loft space, but I hadn’t agreed and she hadn’t forced the answer from me.

The more I listened to her, the more I laughed and the more glances I allowed myself to other parts of her body other than her eyes, and tits of course. She had a pert bottom in the tight-fitting work trousers she was wearing and the white blouse seemed to blend in with her white skin, making her freckles and red hair stand out all the more, turning me on in a strange way.

I caught her biting her lip at around eleven o’clock - the time the pubs normally close.

“I can give you a lift home if you like,” I said, as there was no firm offer of a bed for the night.

She nodded, “Shall we go?”

I finished my drink and headed out towards the far end of the car park. She turned to me as we got close and started walking backwards towards the car. She smiled all the way. I marched her into the car door and stood as close as I could to her, wondering what came next.

I wasn’t expecting her hand to come up on my balls and search out the curve of my cock. I wasn’t expecting her to unzip my trousers and reach in, pull my pants to one side and squeeze my dick hard; squashing it into the palm of her hand. I wasn’t expecting her to stroke the shaft so eagerly until it was rock hard and incapable of occupying the space between my body and jeans. She stroked it across my body.

Our eyes never left each other, their conversation in tune with the one her hand was having with my dick.  We never kissed.  I watched the smile develop on her face and wondered whether she had any intention of stopping.

In the end, I leaned forward and whispered into her ear. Her smile became an evil wicked grin. Her hand sped up, and her attitude changed to that of a woman that was intent on making a mess of the insides of my jeans. I whispered to her again. That was when she uttered the word ‘fuck.’

Her hand sped up, and she pulled my jeans down as much as she could to get her other hand around my balls. She pulled them outside, to squeeze them, she tugged on them, making the rub on the zip a little unpleasant. However, the pleasure and speed with which she pulled my dick off, compensated handsomely for the pain.

With her back to the car, her hand worked furiously over the end of my dick, tossing me off into my jeans.

“Cum for me, you fucker.”

Not the words I would have expected in the car park on our first date, and yet, cum for her, I did.

Jet after jet spurted from the end of my cock and as soon as she felt spunk coat her hand, she positioned it over the end of my dick to collect the rest of the juice in her fist. I was breathing as heavily as she was, and I leaned into her while my climax overtook me.

She was good at her word. Once I had finished, she lifted the whole of her hand to her mouth and licked her fingers and palm clean, just as I said she would have to do if she made me spurt.

I couldn’t help but smile when she presented her hand to me for inspection. Then she surprised me by looping her hand around my neck and pulling me in for a sloppy tongue-infested kiss. I wasn’t expecting a mouth full of spunk to be joining in the action of our tongue fight, but join in it did.

What could I do? I returned her kiss and pushed some of my spunk back into her mouth. We slobbered like that for ages before we got in the car and I drove her home.

I stayed the night, she told me she wasn’t going to let me go home until I had proven that my tongue was as good as I said it was. After four intense orgasms on the end of my tongue, I climbed up her body for the fuck of a lifetime. Her legs wrapped around me and she clung on for a deep and satisfying fuck.

That moment defined our torrid sexual affair. In hindsight, she should have had a warning saying ‘slippery when wet,’ tattooed above her cunt, because it was always in that state.

Why we ended it seven years later is a mystery. But it’s a moment in time that I will never forget or regret.