First Time Sex Story
Nitya’s First Time Sex story
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Everyone has a story about their first time. Some are sweet and romantic, some are incredible, some are bizarre and some are disasters. My story may be all those things rolled into one. When I think back even I have a hard time believing what happened. I do know that I wouldn’t be where I am today without the incredible woman who dropped so suddenly into my life, a woman I met the fall of my second year at college. I owe her so much.
I was getting that familiar buggy feeling I get when I’m in a crowd and my anxiety starts to crank up, but I kept it in check by looking down and avoiding everyone’s gaze. The party was in full swing with music blaring from the lounge halfway down the dorm hall. Eager drinkers pressed in around me as I pumped the keg. There was not one familiar face in the crowd. Everyone there was with my roommate or his circle of friends.
Normally, I wouldn’t have associated with my roommate and would have preferred the quiet solitude of the library but the thought of strangers touching my things had been too much, so I volunteered to man the keg. This way, I could keep an eye on my stuff and get free beer.
Black leather combat boots appeared on the floor before me, a change from all the tennis shoes, sandals, and flip-flops I had been seeing. My eyes followed the boots up to a black and green plaid kilt, up to an ancient black Joan Jett t-shirt tattered around the edges, up to a thin face framed by spiked jet-black hair, up until my eyes locked onto brilliant green eyes outlined in heavy mascara. She half-sneered at me, as if in a challenge. I just nodded in greeting and passed her a beer. She gave me a little crooked smile and melted into the crowd, leaving me slightly flushed. I continued pouring but kept thinking about her green eyes and how they seemed to bore into me.
Later those boots and those eyes were back, looking for more beer. Her hands were empty, though, and the supply of plastic cups had run out several minutes before. “Sorry,” I said. “What happened to your cup?”
She scowled. “I put it down to send a text and it must have been picked up by one of these ass-hat frat boys.” Pointing to a half-full mug on the shelf next to me she asked, “Whose is that?”
“Mine,” I explained and she picked it up and downed the rest before smirking and holding it out. I refilled it and she took a long sip off the top before handing it back.
“I’m Nitya,” she volunteered as I took a drink.
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“Gautam,” I said as she took the mug from my hands. A black widow tattoo decorated the inside of her left wrist and another tattoo, green vines twisting and choking a broken clockwork, adorned her right bicep. I counted at least nine different piercings in her ears and eyebrows. She was short, almost a foot shorter than me, with a slight build. At first glance, she appeared frail but I noticed the way the cords stood out on her arms as she randomly plucked textbooks off my shelf and thumbed through them before replacing them in the wrong location. “Nitya’s a unique name,” I said, attempting conversation. I winced inwardly at the awkward rhyming of my statement.
“Short for Nitya Sharma,” she explained without looking up from my Physics text.
I stole a sidelong glance at her body. Her legs were pale and smooth and looked soft to the touch. On her left thigh, I could see just the bottom of another tattoo and wondered what it could be. When I looked up she was watching me intently. Attempting to cover my embarrassment I joked, “Did you just come from the Young Republicans meeting?”
“Church — I’m an altar girl,” she said without missing a beat. She looked me over critically. “You don’t fit in, either.”
I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans but I knew what she meant. My body language was all wrong. I nodded. “My roommate’s party, my roommate’s friends, his friends’ friends, and so on. You know anyone here?”
She shook her head. “No one. I walked a friend back to her room after a movie, heard the music, and decided to crash.”
We talked as I continued pouring beers. Nitya told me she was majoring in sociology and I said I was studying computer science and engineering. The fact that she didn’t run away after I told her was encouraging. The music down the hall was cranked even higher and drinkers crowded in around us, forcing us closer together. Nitya shouted one-sided conversation in my ear as I pumped the keg. To be honest, I don’t recall too much of what she said but I clearly remember the feel of her breath on my ear and the five times her body rubbed against my arm as the crowd pressed in.
Eventually, the keg ran dry and I had the unenviable task of turning away drunk but thirsty souls, their collective mood turning darker by the moment. All of my attempts to get them out the door failed, the crowd growing more surly. In the end, it was Nitya who drove them from the room with pushes and kicks, swearing at them the whole time. I taped a sign on the door, closed it, and locked it.
“Thanks. I thought we were going to be overrun.”
“The only thing a mob will understand is force,” she explained. It sounded like she was disappointed in me in some way. “You need to be more forceful and not let them walk all over you.” I nodded mutely, thoroughly chastised. Then she smiled slightly. “Anyway, I owed you for sharing your mug.”
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Nitya sat cross-legged on my bed, sipping what was left of the beer, watching me shuffle around the room picking up trash. Her skirt had ridden up a bit exposing more of her thighs. I pretended not to notice and concentrated on stacking discarded plastic cups and tossing them in the wastebasket. I finally got to my bookshelf and was, at last, able to reshuffle the textbooks into the correct order. The urge to touch them seven times almost overwhelmed me but I fought it successfully. Only crazy people touch things like that. When I looked at her I saw she had a curious expression on her face.
Her eyes narrowed and her lips twisted thoughtfully. Finally, she asked, “Are you gay?”
“No,” I said, completely unoffended. It was not the first time that question had been asked of me.
“Didn’t think so.” She patted the mattress next to her. “Come here and take a break.”
I sat on the bed with my back against the wall. I tried to look relaxed on the outside but I doubt I succeeded. Every nerve in my body was jangling and my body felt stiff as aboard. Nitya didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she rubbed at a mark on her skirt before turning and looking at me closely. I started to wither under her stare.
“What?” I asked again, afraid she had noticed my right ear lobe was slightly larger than my left.
She shook her head, a frown on her face. “You’re not like other guys, are you?”
“No, I suppose not.”
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She nodded, absently picking at the scuff mark. Without warning she kissed me, hard, pinning me against the wall. Once I recovered from the initial shock I began to return the kiss but I was always a step behind. Her tongue forced its way past my lips, so alive and electric. My hand went to her back; her hand went to my crotch as she drove me down onto the bed. Tentatively I moved my hand down to her ass and she boldly shoved her hand down the front of my jeans.
She stopped kissing and stared at my crotch, her hand squeezing up and down my length. Her hands scrabbled at my jeans, tugging them down to my thighs until I was exposed and erect before her. Nitya muttered, “No fucking way!”
Before I had a chance to speak she had me in her mouth. Someone was pounding on the door, jiggling the handle, and demanding beer. The shouting and pounding and sucking continued unabated for several minutes until the knocker finally took the hint and went away. All I could hear, aside from the thudding of my heart, were the soft wet sounds of her mouth sliding over my cock.
The feel of her tongue was too much and my whole body tensed. With a groan I came, eliciting a muted whimper from Nitya. She continued bobbing for another minute, the sensations intensifying with each bob, drawing out more groans from deep within my body. Finally, she ceased and let me slide from her lips. She sat back against the wall and dabbed at the corners of her mouth before sucking on her finger.
I lay there, stunned and pleased and vulnerable and invincible all rolled into one. The feeling of invincibility faded, though, and I gradually became aware I was lying naked in front of a girl with my now-limp cock on full display.
Embarrassed, I started to pull my pants up but her hand stopped me.
“Don’t; seeing it pleases me,” she said. “Your very first blowjob?” I nodded dumbly and she smiled. “Thought so. What did you think?”
I tried to put it into words but my vocabulary failed me. “It was amazing. I-” How could I describe something that made me feel so many different emotions all at one time? Instead, I shrugged and shook my head.
She nodded in agreement. “Kneel on the floor in front of me.” I did and she scooted to the edge of the bed. Nitya gathered her kilt in her hands, slowly revealing the pale flesh of her thighs, the serpent tattoo that started on her left hip and rose towards her abdomen, and the black cotton of her panties. She pulled my face to her crotch and I stared at it. “Kiss it,” she commanded.
I pressed my lips against the dry fabric. Nitya shifted and I felt soft yielding flesh under the panties. Her musk filled my nose and I became light-headed. I kissed her again, my mouth open slightly and her hips rose slightly to meet me. Without hesitation I licked her and the cotton turned from dry to damp to wet and then I could faintly taste her. I tongued her roughly through her panties, wanting, needing more until she pushed my head back with one hand.
Those green eyes, punctuated by black eyeliner, stared at me intently. I couldn’t tell if she was pleased or angry but I did recognize her surprise. I don’t know how long she held me there but with each passing moment, I became more desperate to taste her again. Finally, her eyes narrowed and with her free hand, she pushed her panties down her thighs, leaving me to pull them the rest of the way off. The hand holding my hair slowly relaxed and dropped away.
I bent down and softly kissed her inner thigh. She tasted like fall, of rain and the sweet smell of slowly decaying leaves. I kissed higher and now I could truly smell her. I paused and, for the first time in my life, gazed at a woman’s sex. Neatly trimmed black pubic hair framed her glistening folds. The swollen clit bulged slightly under its hood, calling to me. I could feel her heat on my face, drawing me in. My tongue parted her, delved into her, and dipped into her nectar. A guttural moan filled my ears and my soul fell into her, drowning happily in the pool of her wet heat.
With slow and tender licks and kisses, I explored every nook and cranny of her, liberating her juices, coating my mouth and chin. Low, primal sounds filled the room only to be muted by the sudden pressure of her thighs against my head. I pushed on, my tongue darting and flicking and she trembled and shook beneath me. Her thighs hugged my face, each squeeze more powerful than the last, cutting off the blood to my brain until the world dimmed.
When I came to my senses Nitya had me by my hair and was twisting my head painfully to the side. Tremors rolled through her body and she looked down at me triumphantly. Her face was flush and sweat beaded on her forehead. With a crooked smile, she pushed me away playfully in an odd display of affection. I wiped my face with my shirt and realized my erection was back.
Nitya looked at the clock and bolted from the bed. “Shit! My curfew is inten minutes!”
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I couldn’t believe my ears. “You live in Mother Mary?” I teased. She shot me a dangerous look as she smoothed down her skirt. To make up for the slight I offered to walk her back.
We hustled across campus to Mary Hall, the lone all-women dorm on campus. Also known as Mother Mary, the Nunnery, or, more crudely, the Virgin Vault, it was the only dorm that had a curfew. A favorite of over-protective parents to guard their daughters against all the evils of college life, it was also the only dorm with a waiting list. We got to the front doors with two minutes to spare according to the large antique clock over the entrance. Nitya kissed me lightly on the lips before disappearing inside. I was walking on air on my way home before realization set in.
I had forgotten to get her number and I didn’t know her last name. I’m such an idiot.
The following week I walked slowly past Mary Hall on the way to and from class hoping I’d run into Nitya, even walking out of my way whenever I had time. I had her panties which I had found balled up under the edge of my bed and I carried them with me like I was the prince in a perverted version of cinderella. Not once did I get a glimpse of her. I slept with the shirt I had worn that night. I hadn’t washed it and I could still smell her on it.
After two weeks I had almost given up seeing her again. I was in my room catching up on homework when I heard a voice. “Hey.” I looked up at those brilliant green eyes. Nitya was standing at my open door wearing a t-shirt and ripped jeans, a lock of jet black hair covering one eye. She flashed that crooked smile and asked, “Am I bothering you?”
“Nope,” I said, quickly closing my Advanced Calculus textbook. She shut the door and sat on the edge of my bed.
“Is your roommate around?”
“No, he rarely sleeps here. He usually stays with friends who belong to the frat he’s rushing so I basically get the room to myself.”
“About that night,” she began but stopped. She gave me a cold, hard stare. “You haven’t told anyone about it, have you?” I swore I hadn’t. “Good, keep it that way. You tell anyone and I’ll hurt you.”
“I swear, I won’t say anything,” I said meekly, withering under her gaze. She was starting to scare the absolute shit out of me.
“Okay, I believe you.” She looked at me for a long moment then said, “Take off your clothes.”
“Take off your clothes. I want to see you naked.” “Why?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Nitya stood up, tilted her head, and looked curiously at me. “Are you a virgin?”
I swallowed and avoided her eyes. I finally shrugged and confessed, “I’ve never done those things before.”
“What? Kiss a girl? Feel another person’s tongue on your own? Touch a girl’s ass?” I stared at the floor under the desk. I was too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. “Or was it something else?” she persisted.
“You know, like what you did to me,” I bumbled.
“You mean when I put your erect cock in my mouth and sucked on it until you ejaculated your sperm down my throat. That’s called a blowjob.”
“Right. That.” I swallowed nervously and went on. “And what I did to you.”
“Ah, you mean cunnilingus, more commonly known as eating me out or licking my cunt.”
“Yeah, licking your, you know, pussy.”
Nitya shook her head. “You didn’t lick my cat, you licked my cunt.” “Ok.”
“Did you like licking my cunt?” “Yeah.”
“I liked licking you.”
“I want you to say the word.” She waited an amused expression on her face. She was thoroughly enjoying how uncomfortable I was. “Say, cunt.”
“Cunt,” I said quietly, flinching as I did so. All my life I had been taught that was the worst word one could ever say.
She laughed. “My God, you really are a virgin, in more ways than one.” Her laughter shamed me and my ears burned. I felt so small. “Well, at least I know you’re clean. Tell me, Gautam, are you one of those types who save themselves for marriage? Did you swear a promise to your God you would remain pure and chaste until your wedding night?” she mocked.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no,” I said a bit defensively. “Do you believe in God, Gautam?”
“No, do you?”
Nitya snorted with derision. “I don’t have time to waste on that nonsense.” She unsnapped her jeans and pulled the zipper down. “I don’t have time to waste, period. Do you want to lick my cunt again, Gautam?” She reached into her panties. “I’m so wet and I’m so willing. Do you want to taste me, Gautam?” She pulled her hand out and held it up in front of me. Two of her fingers glistened and shone. I was already salivating. I nodded. “Then take off your goddamn clothes.” There was a menace behind those words even though they were said neutrally.
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I stood and peeled off my shirt and then my jeans. After a moment’s hesitation, I kicked off my boxers. Nitya shook her head and pointed at my feet. I understood and pulled off my socks. I stood there in the middle of my room naked and semi-aroused as Nitya walked slowly around me appraising my body. I silently prayed she wouldn’t notice my earlobes or that my rib cage was a little asymmetrical. She stopped in front of me and raised an eyebrow as she looked at my cock.
“Utterly fucking amazing,” she said softly. “How big is it?”
Like most guys, I had been curious about the length of my penis. I had measured it and done my research but for some reason, I was embarrassed to admit that to her. Instead, I simply said, “Bigger than average, I suppose.”
She shook her head. “Indeed it is. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me again and my memory was fucked up. But there it is.” She sighed. “On your knees,” she commanded.
I obeyed. Nitya kicked off her jeans and stood before me. “I can’t have a boyfriend,” she said as I tasted her. I didn’t care. I just nodded and drank her in.
In the end, she was sitting naked in the desk chair with one leg draped over the armrest and me kneeling on the floor in front of her, my head buried between her legs as orgasm chased orgasm. When she finally pushed me away almost half an hour had passed.
Brief explosions of pain blossomed in my knees as I stood, my joints stiff. I rubbed my neck to work out the kinks and looked down at Nitya. She lay there, draped over the chair, wasted with exhaustion but with a satisfied look on her face. Her small, pert breasts rose and fell, her nipple ring catching the light with each breath. The tattoo of a serpent wrapped around an apple covered her left hip, up her abdomen, to just below her left breast.
She motioned me over until I was standing next to her. “Masturbate on me,” she said, tipping her head back, closing her eyes, and opening her mouth. Her voice was tired and strained and for a brief moment, she looked sickly. When I hesitated she said emphatically, “Gautam, I want you to jerk off until your cum sprays over my face!”
I stood over her and masturbated as Nitya’s hands played lightly over her body, her fingers teasing her nipples and tracing random patterns over her stomach. The room was silent except for the rhythmic whispering of skin rubbing skin. She still had her eyes closed, and her mouth half-open and inviting. I watched her drive her middle finger deep into her cunt. With her other hand, she caressed my sac, pulling me closer to her expectant mouth until the tip of my cock rubbed against her lips.
She sucked it momentarily then whispered, “I can’t have a boyfriend.”
I continued stroking, my orgasm nearing. Her lips nuzzled the underside of the fleshy tip, sending jolts of electricity directly down my shaft, through my balls, and up my spine. With a groan the dam burst. White lines of cum jetted across the bridge of her nose and caught in her heavy lashes. She pulled me into her mouth and I came some more. When I was finished my knees felt weak.
“I can’t have a boyfriend,” she repeated as my seed dribbled slowly from the corner of her mouth.
I offered her a towel to clean up. Nitya climbed wearily into my bed and pulled the covers over her. I watched her sleep for a while before I got dressed and went back to my desk. I touched every item on the desktop exactly seven times in the proper order before I could resume my calculus homework, letting her sleep for an hour before I woke her gently.
In the next story, I will share with you another story named “UNDER THE PARKING LAMP”
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