My first sexual experience was with a girl who later became my girlfriend for a time -- it might have worked out well between us, except for what happened the first time we became intimate together. We were at her friend's house one Saturday with some other girls from her school (a Catholic school), none of whom I had ever met. There were no parents around, I think they were away visiting relatives. I was pretty sure we were going to end up getting it on, this girl and me, it was just a question of when, and especially where, as we both lived at home.
We were in the kitchen with her friends, I was the only guy around and I was horny as hell. Her friends were chatting and talking up a storm, mostly ignoring me, and I didn't think anyone would notice if we disappeared for awhile. I took her hand and we drifted off, heading upstairs to the bedrooms.
We went into her friend's brother's bedroom -- it was pretty obvious he was a jock, as there was football gear and trophies all over the place. I think his name was Johnny. We lay down on the bed and made out for awhile. I was extremely horny and kept trying to get into her pants but having no luck, so I started rubbing her hand on the outside of my jeans. Eventually she worked her hand down my pants and hauled my virgin dick out. She started pumping me with an overhand stroke - she was lying on her stomach facing me as I lay there with my head against the wall.
After awhile she said her hand was getting tired. I didn't know what to do but I was deliriously horny, moaning and squirming around on the bed. After a short rest she started up again. I started feeling like I was going to come, and I arched my back, humping my ass in the air. When I finally got off it was insane -- I gasped in disbelief as a thick, stringy shot went flying over my head -- all over the wallpaper next to Johnny's bed. Horrified at my ejaculatory prowess, she tried to block the next shot by pinching me off, but all it did was make it more forceful.
I gasped with the pleasure of my first assisted ejaculation, and when she loosened her grip, a shower of tiny drops of white cum erupted from my dick. I could hear it spatter the wall behind me and I twisted my head to try to dodge the next spitz, with only partial success. A fourth shot got all over my shirt, while the rest just dribbled out. After I caught my breath, I lifted myself up on one elbow to survey the scene.
It was a mess, alright. The wallpaper, a lurid yellow floral pattern with embossed velvet flowers (must have been his older sister's bedroom at one point) was all stained with spatters of white, and discoloured where the first streamer had hit and dripped down the wall. I couls see it was soaking into the wallpaper and the velvet pattern had suffered the most -- it was matted and stained in several places. I had cum in my hair, some on my shirt, and she had gotten some on her as well. Unfortunately there was no time to think about cleaning it up, since her friend was calling her from downstairs.
When we went down I didn't stick round long, as I guessed they were aware we had been up to something. My girlfriend told me later that her friend was furious at what we had done, and also heard her friend's brother was out to get me. I worried about what Johnny and his football buddies might do to me for cumming all over his bedroom wall, but luckily he went away to college that September so I never had to face his anger.
As for me and my girlfriend, it only lasted a few months. Her friends were relentless in trying to get us to break up, and one day when I called their place to talk to her, they told me, with obvious satisfaction, that she wouldn't talk to me and didn't want to see me again.
Still, every time I pass that house, I think about that wallpaper -- did their parents ever wonder what had happened -- did they think it was Johnny's handiwork? And I reflect on what might have been, had things turned out differently for me and my first girlfriend.