Straight Female / 61
MY Embarrassing Tell Tale Sign
After recovery from the crash, and the surgeries and stuff, I had scars left over. One of them was on my face, where I had serious lacerations. Fortunately they were able to save the nerves and I didn't loose control of any facial muscles. But at 16, a scar along your cheek is a huge issue, especially because if I had emotional issues it turned red, and it stood out. This was my situation when I me the 'boy' next door. It was Thanksgiving of 1977.
He was fresh from college, after serving two years in Vietnam, so he was not exactly a boy, he was a young man with lots of experience when it came to women, some paid for, others of the lower classes that hung around army bases, and a couple of girls that might be marriage material. He told me about all these experiences, ranking which type was better for sex, and the marriage material girls came in last.
He touched my pussy. Just reached out while we were talking and touched my pussy with two fingers. It shocked me, I jumped back. He asked if he had touched my clit. At 16 I wasn't thinking of my clit and was really barely aware of it, just that it felt good to rub up high where my vulva opened up. He wanted a good look, to see if my pussy was old enough to fuck. He sat on the bed in the den and examined my pussy, my pants down around my knees and I was holding up my blouse. He examined my pussy with his eyes, looking for imperfections, and used his fingers to open me up and examined my working parts, including my clit and my vagina. Yes, I passed the test, I was good to fuck.
My tits he liked off the bat, big enough to be real tits, but no so big that they hung when I was naked. He liked that they bounced. I remember like yesterday we were walking across the yard to his house and he asked me if I could feel my pussy when I walked, I said no, he asked how about my tits, and I said yes, because my tits did bounce even in a bra. He told me he was always aware of his dick. The difference between boys and girls I suppose. At his house, no one was there that's why we went there to fuck, he had me get undressed down to my panties and dance for him and let him see how my tits danced back. He told me about the girls in Manila, where he went for R&R, their tits were too small to move when they danced, and they were small and their pussies were like perteen girls. He wanted tits, and a real sized pussy to fuck, and woman who could take him fucking her and not worry he was going to break her back. That was me. I had the build, what people call baby making hips.
While he fucked me, everything was going good, but all that blushing in my face made my scar standout. While he fucked me he asked me about my scar and while he slipped in and out and my legs were getting tired I told him about my crash. Good thing nothing had happened to my tits or my pussy, that would have been a tragedy. He finished, and we got cleaned up to get dressed and he told me skip the bra, to let my tits swing free. We went in his car to the mall to walk around and see how many men and boys looked at my tits. A lot.
What I will never live down is that my mother asked me what I had done that afternoon. I told the story, he came by, we talked and he invited me over to his house and we ended up having sex and then going to the mall. "having sex", that caught my mother's attention. Exactly what did I mean we "had sex". It was too late so I told her I wanted to give him my virginity so we went to his house and had intercourse, and yes he finish in me (a big no no at that time, birth control wasn't as available as it is now).
For him I never wore a bra, even at Christmas dinner. I wore a Christmas sweater and no bra, it itched like hell and my nipples poked through the fabric of the sweater. He touched my nipples, when we were out of sight and touched my pussy and I touched his dick. We went back to one of the back bedrooms and fucked without getting totally undressed. I came out and my mother wanted to know what I was doing, I faked it, told her we had gone outside. She touched my cheek, my scar was bright red, like the Scarlet Letter.
It given my emotions away for my whole life.
He was fresh from college, after serving two years in Vietnam, so he was not exactly a boy, he was a young man with lots of experience when it came to women, some paid for, others of the lower classes that hung around army bases, and a couple of girls that might be marriage material. He told me about all these experiences, ranking which type was better for sex, and the marriage material girls came in last.
He touched my pussy. Just reached out while we were talking and touched my pussy with two fingers. It shocked me, I jumped back. He asked if he had touched my clit. At 16 I wasn't thinking of my clit and was really barely aware of it, just that it felt good to rub up high where my vulva opened up. He wanted a good look, to see if my pussy was old enough to fuck. He sat on the bed in the den and examined my pussy, my pants down around my knees and I was holding up my blouse. He examined my pussy with his eyes, looking for imperfections, and used his fingers to open me up and examined my working parts, including my clit and my vagina. Yes, I passed the test, I was good to fuck.
My tits he liked off the bat, big enough to be real tits, but no so big that they hung when I was naked. He liked that they bounced. I remember like yesterday we were walking across the yard to his house and he asked me if I could feel my pussy when I walked, I said no, he asked how about my tits, and I said yes, because my tits did bounce even in a bra. He told me he was always aware of his dick. The difference between boys and girls I suppose. At his house, no one was there that's why we went there to fuck, he had me get undressed down to my panties and dance for him and let him see how my tits danced back. He told me about the girls in Manila, where he went for R&R, their tits were too small to move when they danced, and they were small and their pussies were like perteen girls. He wanted tits, and a real sized pussy to fuck, and woman who could take him fucking her and not worry he was going to break her back. That was me. I had the build, what people call baby making hips.
While he fucked me, everything was going good, but all that blushing in my face made my scar standout. While he fucked me he asked me about my scar and while he slipped in and out and my legs were getting tired I told him about my crash. Good thing nothing had happened to my tits or my pussy, that would have been a tragedy. He finished, and we got cleaned up to get dressed and he told me skip the bra, to let my tits swing free. We went in his car to the mall to walk around and see how many men and boys looked at my tits. A lot.
What I will never live down is that my mother asked me what I had done that afternoon. I told the story, he came by, we talked and he invited me over to his house and we ended up having sex and then going to the mall. "having sex", that caught my mother's attention. Exactly what did I mean we "had sex". It was too late so I told her I wanted to give him my virginity so we went to his house and had intercourse, and yes he finish in me (a big no no at that time, birth control wasn't as available as it is now).
For him I never wore a bra, even at Christmas dinner. I wore a Christmas sweater and no bra, it itched like hell and my nipples poked through the fabric of the sweater. He touched my nipples, when we were out of sight and touched my pussy and I touched his dick. We went back to one of the back bedrooms and fucked without getting totally undressed. I came out and my mother wanted to know what I was doing, I faked it, told her we had gone outside. She touched my cheek, my scar was bright red, like the Scarlet Letter.
It given my emotions away for my whole life.
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