The first time a boy went down on me.

Now, please bear with me….some of this may sound a little insulting, but that isn’t the way I mean it…..you should know that of me by now. 

Fact: Boys enter puberty later than girls (the physical) and they mature emotionally later as well. (The psychological). Let’s take that as read. 

I already knew what it was to have someone go down on me (a girl) and what it was to go down on another girl…but, well, as we all know…boys are different! 

So….the kissing was great. I love being gently kissed, and he was good at it….perhaps a tad clumsy, but there was some sensitivity there. (Hmm..I wonder what he kisses like now?) The undressing showed some fore-knowledge too. You’d be amazed how teenage boys can get into a muddle with a front-fastening bra. But he managed to strip me down to my panties really well. 

But as he worked his way down my body I began to get the old insecurities back. What if he finds me ‘ugly’ down there? I knew I was very wet, very wet, actually, so what if he found that repellant? What if he didn’t like my scent? What if he didn’t like my taste? 

Believe me, teenage and adolescent girls are scrupulous about cleanliness down there….too much so, if you want my honest opinion. 

I remember feeling him stop and I could feel his hot breath on my sex. Oh fuck…..oh fucketty fuck fuck arseholing bollocks! If he hates this, it will be round the school tomorrow like wildfire, and those fucking nuns….those habits enable them to pick up on the tiniest whisper, and they were always….fucking always…..on the lookout for ‘sin’. If Sister Assumpta found out, I’d be ‘scrubbing the Virgin’ with a gnarly old toothbrush until the end of time. (Scrubbing the Virgin involved cleaning copious amounts of moss and bird shit off a marble statue of Our Lady that used to reside in front of the convent building. We had to do it without gloves, or shoes. By the time we’d finished we were covered in evil-smelling shit.) 

So…he paused…I felt his breath…and….then his lips as he kissed my clit. This was followed by his tongue as he licked me right from the bottom of my labia to my clit. For me, the feeling was….sensational….horny beyond words….here I was, naked, legs spread and a naked boy was licking my sex. Clumsily, to be sure, but he was doing it…and he kept doing it. I felt the stirrings of a cum deep in between my legs, but even at that age, my cums could be messy. Not full-on squirt yet, but a definite flood happened now and then. 

No, wait…you know , I think I had experienced a couple of squirty orgasms now I think about it. So I began to think of things that might delay the inevitable. The wrinkled image of Sister Mary was always useful for this. 

But I needn’t have worried. Suddenly he stopped, kneeled up straight and grasped his cock at the exact moment he shot his load. It splattered on my chest and tummy and I clamped my knees together determine that none of it would go anywhere near what we called ‘the danger zone’. 

You know, there were so many myths around…and the good sisters did nothing to dispel them. Boys…some boys…thought vaginas had teeth and we could use them to keep a boy inside us, or express our displeasure. In return, we were taught that sperms could find their way through clothing and marched like some kind of microscopic army in pursuit of an egg. Get any of this stuff anywhere near us, and it would find us like some kind of relentless drone attack. 

Oh the myths and legends we created….and the ones that those bastard nuns allowed us to believe! 

So, he had shot his cum on me, but I hadn’t cum. And I didn’t mind. He, poor love, actually asked if I had. I told him yes just to stop his obvious concern. 

But I hadn’t. That came later. As I hastily dressed, stuffing my bra into my bag, I made sure I didn’t clean him off me. On the short walk from his home to mine, I could smell the tangy, slightly metallic scent of semen. Real, live, fresh semen. On me! You have no idea how grown up I felt. A boy had gone down on me, and doing so had made him spontaneously shoot his load. Don’t tell me women don’t have power! My scent did that to him…my scent taste and the look of my body. 

Mind you, I hadn’t been totally honest with him. As I lay there, Miss Brain was virtually kicking the door down. You see, I’d locked her out of the control room. Miss Brain wanted me to murmered obscenities to him…to urge him to ‘lick my cunt….suck me….tongue fuck me….suck my clit…make me fucking cum.” The thing is I couldn’t trust her not to make me say “fuck me…put it in me.” So, although I wanted this vulgarity, I denied myself it. 

However, when I got to my room, that shirt was off in a heartbeat, and I found sticky, semi-dried semen on my boobs and between them. It didn’t smell exactly the same as when it had burst from him, but I couldn’t resist tasting it as I masturbated which sent me over nicely.

Semen is strange stuff. As any girl will tell you, a vagina full of semen doesn’t take long to make you smell unpleasant. Cleaning up after sex is essential. Some girls use a douche which I think harms you. Vaginas are, after all, supposed to be self cleaning. I prefer a gentle bath. Water finds its way in there anyway…and comes out again. No soaps, or chemicals….just good warm water. Well, it’s all I need anyway. 

Tasting fresh semen? Nothing like it. Going down on a guy is heavenly. You can feel his arousal and walk with him right to the point of orgasm, hold him there for as long as you like, before feeling him explode in your mouth. Man….that’s simply fabulous! The feeling of each ‘jet’, the saltiness of the taste, the texture like egg white, and swallowing it seems to me to be the most natural thing in the world. 

A lot has been said about different men tasting differently and it’s true. I realise,I have sucked way more vagina than I have sucked cocks, but yes, they do taste different. Some girls report that they have found guys they simply couldn’t stand the taste of. I found one guy who I found really bitter and didn’t swallow, but he so far at least, is the only one. 

And while we’re talking about guys….can someone explain this? Touching a guy’s bum hole can provoke really different reactions including a love/hate one. It seems that some guys love the physical sensation, but somehow feel that they shouldn’t. One guy actually told me “I like being touched…there…but I don’t let my girlfriend do it because…well….that’s what gay guys do isn’t it?” 

No…enjoying having your bum touched doesn’t make you gay! Anyway, as Stephen Fry said “…..anal sex isn’t the pinnacle of homosexual love. You think it is….but it isn’t, you know!”. 

So, that lovely summer afternoon….that walk home with a friend with whom I had no romantic connection whatsoever, and yet we ended up in his room, naked, my legs spread wide, and him sucking and licking me.

As we dressed he told me how fabulous I smelled. “The sexiest scent I’ve ever smelled.” Bless him…he could hardly have had a lot of experience. Anyway, I had picked up my panties, noticed the wetness in the crotch, and held them out to him. No words. He knew. Wordlessly, he took them and hid them under his pillow. 

That night, after an evening with my family, I had showered and climbed into bed. In the darkness, I knew, simply knew he was wanking with my panties clamped to his face. 

The witches of old used to cast spells by causing people to devour intimacies of others. A man might ask for a love spell, and the old crone would tell him to masturbate at midnight under a full moon, and to cause the object of his desire to swallow some of it and she would be his. The reverse would happen if a girl wanted a particular boy. This is old magic….and I wonder if there isn’t something in it.

Well…look at me….good Catholic schoolgirl to ancient Wiccan in one story! Now, who’d have thought that?