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Posted by: Author: Age: 35 Posted on: 0 comments
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This is the story of our (second) first time together. R may remember it slightly differently-if you're reading this, I'd love to hear your side of it too!


First, the background. When I was 15, I had had a short-lived, but rather adventurous relationship with a 13 yr old boy, R. I was his first lover. We were only together for about six weeks, then he changed schools the next year, and we lost contact.

19 years, a husband and two children later, I was surfing facebook, seeing who else was on there, and found my old boyfriend. Feeling a bit nervous, and slightly guilty as I was married and so was he, I put aside my reservations and decided to 'friend' him. I wasn't sure what he thought of me - it had been a very long time, and I felt guilty about taking his virginity at such a young age. I wanted to apologise. I thought he might be angry with me, so didn't know if I'd ever hear from him. Within a day or so, R had accepted my friend offer, and the next time I was on facebook, a chat box popped up, simply saying 'OMG'. We started chatting, and I worked up the courage to apologise to him. He convinced me that there was nothing to apologise for, in fact, he wanted to thank me for introducing him to a whole new world. Needless to say, I found this quite flattering. We chatted into the night, the conversation becoming more and more intimate, detailing our sexual exploits, preferences and fantasies. He told me of his love of foreplay and exploration - which I, of course, found extremely exciting.

The next morning, R texted me, suggesting he come and see me. After our conversations the night before, and I was still a little horny and feeling excited to meet the grown-up version of the boy I had known so long ago. But I was also feeling guilty - I had a happy marriage, had never cheated on my husband, and didn't want to start. I texted him - 'just coffee, ok?', to which he agreed.

Soon, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find that the 13 year old boy that I had known had grown in to a stunningly attractive man. I was shaking with anticipation, fear, and desire. And I was instantly wet. He stepped through the doorway and put his arms around me for an all-encompassing hug. We could have left it at that, and actually gone upstairs and had coffee. But we couldn't let go of each other.

We kissed, just gently at first, then lips parted, tongues played... I could feel his hard cock pushing against me. I wanted so much to touch it, to feel his power between my legs. His hand started to wander, over my breasts, my hard nipples, down into my pants where he found I was deliciously wet. I tried to tell him No - I felt so guilty for betraying my husband - but even if he heard me he wasn't listening. And my body wasn't listening to me either. I soon found my own hands exploring under his shirt. His chest felt amazing, his nipples erect. He took his shirt off, and slowly slipped mine off too. My hands began to explore below his belt as he massaged my clit, making me quiver even more. His rock-solid cock was oozing pre-cum, making it beautifully lubricated as I stroked it. We took off what was left of our clothing, and I took in the beauty of his naked body. He kissed my shoulders, my breasts, and continued to finger me, slowly and gently, making it impossible for my body to refuse his advances. It was as if he knew exactly what I needed. He plunged his fingers into my wetness, as he circled my clit with his thumb and teased my anus.

We explored each other slowly like this for over an hour, touching and stroking each other, discovering each others' bodies, our juices combining, but never allowing penetration. I was still feeling very conflicted, and didn't want to bring him to the point of cumming myself. After that long, while still fingering my pussy and clit with one hand, R stroked himself into a frenzy, cumming over himself. I didn't allow myself to come - I know it's silly place to draw a line in the sand, but I wanted to save my orgasms for my husband.

R cleaned up, thanked me, and left, and has returned a number of times for more exploration. By his next visit I had lost any inhibitions, and had no qualms about allowing myself to cum with him.

We never did end up having that coffee.



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